Tales from the Twisted Eden Sector - Box Set: Tales from the Twisted Eden Sector

Syndicate

Tales from the Twisted Eden Sector

By Tanya Lisle

Published by Scrap Paper Entertainment 2013

Chief

Funeral arrangements.

Gabe barely listened past those words. His eyes immediately fell on a small wooden frame containing a petite blond woman, frozen timeless behind glass. She still smiled the way she had a year ago, her eyes carefully ignoring the coffee stain on the glass.

Cheryl.

Two days ago he received the call telling him he’d never see her smile again. Cheryl was gone - hit by a truck - and they just needed him to identify the body. Seeing her lying there cold and motionless made it no easier. He had seen her that morning. She was just going out for groceries and spending the day working on the nursery, despite how he insisted that she rest. And now she was gone.

They’d just celebrated his promotion a month ago. He was Chief of the Freelance Department now, meaning stable hours and a steady paycheck. As far as Cheryl knew, he was a freelance detective before and she had never questioned it further.

He was going to come clean about it and tell her the truth eventually. After the baby. There was a chance his daughter might be like him and if she was, there would be no more hiding it.

But they were both gone now.

He hadn’t left the office since he’d gotten that call. He couldn’t. The place smelled like her - reminiscent of the perfume she loved so much. There were pictures of her on the walls. There might still be pieces of the nursery scattered in the hall. Worse, she might have finished the nursery and he’d have to walk into it, knowing that it would never be used.

Gabe? Gabe, you still there?

Gabe blinked. Right. The phone.

Still here, Norm, he said, realizing just how tired he sounded.

You okay? the kid on the other end asked. Norm, Cheryl’s little brother. He was barely in his twenties and not all together yet, but he’d stepped up and taken over the funeral arrangements in Gabe’s place.

I’m fine, Gabe insisted.

So are you okay with doing an open casket service before the cremation? Norm asked gently. It’s in three days.

Gabe said nothing. He couldn’t even think about looking at her again, still, battered and lifeless.

After a few seconds of the prolonged silence, Norm continued. Look, I’ll take care of it. Call if you need anything.

Yeah.

Gabe put the phone back down on the receiver.

His eyes lingered on Cheryl’s photo for a little longer, drinking in every detail. The way her forehead crinkled when she smiled. That one stray bit of hair that always seemed to fall into her eyes. How she held her hands, like she was fighting the urge to wipe something off his face. He reached over and placed the frame face down on his desk. She was gone and there were still too many things he wanted to do. With her watching, he’d never be able to concentrate.

His job was both more and less complicated than detective work. He worked for an organization lovingly called the Syndicate. Its sole purpose was to use any means necessary to keep the existence of magic from becoming widespread knowledge beyond those who were actually able to use it. As the Chief of the Freelancers Department, his job was to select the right freelancer for the right job from the stack that no one would take willingly.

The trouble was that all the files came through the Freelancers Department first. And the stack of files on his desk was always piled high.

He pulled the first one off the pile.

There was the possibility of Nostra, the man who most of the more exotic drugs in the city came through, employing two young children as enforcers. Until anyone did anything to expose what they were, it wasn’t his jurisdiction. They were already keeping an eye on Nostra. This was just another thing to watch for.

There was a new shipment of Xombie. So long as it didn’t get out into the public, it wasn’t Gabe’s problem.

The Cult of the Ordu Finnire was planning something. Of course they were. In three days there would be a blue moon. But there was a team dedicated to deal with the cults already.

Simya Academy. He didn’t even open the file and he could feel Cheryl’s eyes on him. As soon as they found out they were going to have a daughter, Cheryl had begun looking at schools. She grew up in a small town near Simya Academy and seen the girls come into town now and again to work. She wanted to send their daughter there.

Gabe put the file aside. He could come back to it later.

The sky had opened just outside of the city and dropped out a creature. There was a photo of the part-plant, part-mechanical monstrosity that appeared to not have a face. This wasn’t even his department. The Others dealt with this sort of thing.

The next one had him raise an eyebrow. The Phoenix Brand had appeared in the city and already transferred hands. A man named Henry McKellar had it until his house had burnt down and the freelancer lost track of it. That or, more likely, the freelancer had gotten bored and moved on to something else.

Gabe flipped past the report to find out just what this Phoenix Brand was. The picture showed a medic alert bracelet with a few red lines scratched into it which might have once been a bird. The wearer was granted the powers of a phoenix, with fire running through their veins, unable to be harmed, and it could raise them again from even death. All it needed was a spark.

Wait.

The Brand was somewhere in the city. It could bring her back.

If this worked, Gabe vowed he would tell her everything. He’d probably get fired and he would have to go to another sector, but that would be worth it. There would be no way to explain Cheryl coming back, anyway. But somehow, if this worked, he would make it alright.

He went to the top left drawer of his desk. He brushed aside the small plastic packets, dried herbs that had fallen out of their paper bags, and loose cigarette wrappers to grab a metal cigarette case and lighter.

Turning back to the report, he made a few notes about the man, his name and history, before looking through the places he frequented. They were all familiar, though he was drawn to one.

Donahue’s.

His eyes drifted back down to the drawer as he adjusted his coat. He went back into it and carefully selected one of the packets of pills, this one marked with a climbing vine. Gabe threw them into his pocket before leaving.

As soon as he opened the door to his office, the sound of hissing made him slam it shut. He waited a moment before opening it again, the smell of burnt mahogany lingering in the air. He cast a sharp glare to the left. A large woman who had been partially turned into a dragon was already walking away. Her lumbering form knocked a much smaller man over and her tail thrashed behind her. Gabe knew he should probably find out what happened there, but he didn’t care enough to press the matter.

His watch showed it was getting late. He turned left down the halls, not paying any attention to the ambient sounds of arguing amidst the office or the random shows of magic, sometimes accompanied by a small explosion, fire or destruction.

He swung open the metal door at the end of the hall and walked through it into the cool air of the streets, his head down. He turned into the alley and headed right for Donahue’s. This time of night, a man with his house burnt down would probably be heading for a drink.

Donahue’s was nestled deep within the back streets, looking distinctly out of place with everything else. The small wooden tavern was surrounded by harsh concrete buildings and dark, dirty brick that seemed to be trying to melt into the shadows. The tavern seemed to almost glow, warm and strangely inviting, drawing people into it from all over the city.

Gabe entered, looking around as he approached the bar. It wasn’t crowded yet, but it would be soon enough. Familiar faces from the office whose names he didn’t know were starting to slowly trickle in. He went up to the end of the bar, taking a seat and discreetly taking a look around. Henry would be alone, wherever he was, but there was a much easier way to figure out which one he was.

One on the house, a gruff voice said, bringing Gabe’s attention back to the bar. Behind it, a large bearded man looked sympathetic.

Thanks, Gabe said, taking the drink in hand.

Figured you’d be in sooner than this, he said. I’m sorry to hear about Cheryl.

Gabe grunted in response and took a drink. Not here about that, Dusty, he informed the barkeeper. I’m looking for someone.

Already? Dusty asked, a faint smirk on his lips and an eyebrow raised.

Gabe glared at him to shut him up, but that only seemed to amuse him more. I need information, he said, his eyes turning back to the rest of the tavern. Henry McKeller.

Dusty nodded and his eyes went a little further down the bar. Sitting alone and staring into a foaming mug was a man with an arm bandaged up and burns still healing on his face. He’s been a bit jumpy. Comes in every night like he’s looking for someone, but doesn’t know what he wants to do once he finds him. His place burnt down and he’s been homeless for a week looking for a new one. He even tried to hide out here overnight once. Dug him out of the washrooms and sent him on his way. What he do?

Nothing yet, Gabe told him, his eyes carefully on the other man. He glanced around in a pattern, once every three seconds. First left, then back to his drink. Right and back to his drink. He took a drink every five checks, and Gabe nodded. He knows something, though.

You’re in luck, Dusty said, leaning in. He’s getting one more after this one. Go over, give him a misery loves company angle and you’re golden. You might want to work quick though. Az is looking a little restless tonight.

Gabe’s eyes trailed off his target a moment to the woman in the corner. Tall, dark and eyes made of blood and fire, the woman was a fallen angel that thirsted for a fight and revelled in destruction. She was practically a fixture at Donahue’s and it operated very much on her schedule. Tonight, she looked anxious and ready to jump out of her seat.

Gabe finished his drink and got up, walking around the tables to approach the bar a second time. He waited until Henry looked over his left before approaching, taking a seat one down from where he sat. Dusty gave him another drink and stepped away to let him work.

Henry looked back over his right, surprised that there was someone there. Gabe nodded, raising his drink in a miniature toast and looking appropriately depressed. Henry nodded and raised his, though as Gabe drank, Henry realized his glass was empty.

He raised a hand, mouth opened and ready to call for another drink when one came sliding down the counter. The glass stopped just past Gabe, who grabbed it by the rim, a small pellet dropping out of his sleeve as he passed it the rest of the way down the bar. Henry looked grateful, not noticing as he took a deep drink.

What you got? Henry asked, his eyes in his drink, then flicking back to scan the bar.

Wife died, he said, not really sure why he still sounded quite that depressed about it. She wouldn’t be dead for much longer. Car crash.

Henry grunted in sympathy. Kids?

Not yet, he said. He hadn’t thought of that. Would the baby return with the Brand too? He would be glad to have Cheryl back, at least, but he hadn’t thought of the baby. There was a chance, though it was unlikely. He knew little about raising the dead and less about raising the pregnant dead. He probably shouldn’t get his hopes up.

Gabe was getting distracted. He needed to get Henry to start talking. What happened to you?

Henry sighed and took another drink before answering. House burnt down. With me in it. At least you’ve got a place to go back to.

Gabe forced his eyes down, nodding and saying nothing while a bout of rage welled up in his chest. A place to go back to. An empty place filled with memories and nothing more. He grasped his glass more firmly, knuckles starting to lose their colour, but managed to keep himself together.

Cautiously, he glanced up to the pair of eyes he could feel burning into him. Az in her corner was watching him, her eyes blood red and she was smiling. He took a deep breath through his nose and tried to calm himself, though his jaw did not unclench. He tried to stay focused on Henry who he realized was still talking.

Now don’t get me wrong, he was saying, swaying a little in his seat. I don’t want her. No way. She’s a bitch! Hope that surgery kills her. But who was she to say I’m an asshole? You know, you’re a lucky bastard. No bitch whining at you all day anymore. Mine’s still doing that after everything. Well she would if she could find me. Bet she sent that guy to burn down my place to get back at me. Just ’cause I wouldn’t pay for her shit.

Gabe glanced at Henry’s drink, finding it only half gone, but no trace of the pellet in his glass. Good. Gabe wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to keep from punching this guy, especially with Az’s eye still on him.

Should probably head out, Gabe suggested, carefully keeping his voice level. The fight’s gonna break out soon.

Fight? Henry asked, looking back drunkenly. You sure?

Gabe stood up, stamping his foot as he did so, and put on his coat.

A few tables behind them, a man’s chair tipped, sending him into the table and sending the table into the woman he’d been sitting with. The woman’s voice tore through the room, the word incomprehensible as a jolt of lightning sprung out of her hand at the man. He dodged, the lightning instead hitting the small group behind him and chaos erupted.

You’re good, Henry said, attempting to get to his feet. He was unsteady and started to sag a little too far to the left, Gabe coming to his side and keeping him upright.

Let me give you a hand, Gabe offered. Henry nodded dully, Gabe noting with satisfaction the slight green glaze over his eyes as he did so. They stumbled out, Gabe steering them carefully around the fights breaking out and into the cool night air. Henry had, at some point, started babbling about his ex again and Gabe steered them around the corner of Donahue’s into a small alley. He brought Henry to the back of it, leaning him against the wall where he drooped to the ground and continued his babbling.

Gabe turned back to check the mouth of the alley and got himself a cigarette out of his coat. He pulled the lighter out of his pocket as well and clicked it, not even a spark appearing for his efforts. There was no fire left. Just as well, Gabe thought with a bit of a shrug as he stuffed it back into his pocket. He brought his hand back up and snapped his fingers, a small fire appearing at his fingertips for him to light his cigarette with before turning back to Henry.

Seriously, you’re probably better off with her dead, Henry was saying. Nothing good out of them. Nothing.

Gabe’s eyes narrowed on the man and he grabbed him, slamming him hard against the brick wall. He exhaled the smoke in Henry’s face. The smoke continued to linger over his mouth and nose, refusing to move Henry inhaled some of it and his breath caught in his throat, the smoke refusing to move past his mouth.

His eyes widened as he realized what was happening.

I-I didn’t mean it, he said desperately, words starting to fall out of his mouth in rapid succession and his eyes never leaving Gabe’s. I’m just messing with you! I-

Gabe shut him up with a punch to the stomach, knocking the wind out of him. Henry crumpled to the ground, the smoke around his face following him down and, though he gasped and tried to draw air back into his lungs, not enough could make it through the smoke.

Let’s get you a little more sober, Gabe said, stepping back and leaving him writhing on the ground, gasping for air.

Gabe waited until the green haze over Henry’s eyes finally faded away. With a wave, the smoke dissipated from around Henry’s mouth.

I just want to know about the fire, Gabe told him.

Henry, coughing and gasping for breath, pushed himself back up against the wall. The... the fire?

His eyes widened suddenly, realizing who Gabe was. He tensed and looked desperately to the mouth of the alley, already starting to try and scurry away. Gabe rose his hand. Henry’s muscles tensed. When Gabe gestured for him to return, he did despite his efforts to continue running.

What did you... You’re Syndicate, aren’t you?

The fire, he repeated, not wanting to explain how the pellet he’d slipped him worked. It was a blend of plants that fed on alcohol and would let him control the body it inhabited. The lifespan of the plant was short, but he was patient. If it stopped working before he got his information, he had other ways.

Henry glanced back at the opening of the alley and tried to move, but found he could not. Eyes looking back up at Gabe, he took a shaky breath. It was just a fire, he said. Nothing special. My microwave and stove are busted so I tried cooking with fire and shit happened.

Lying won’t do you any good, Henry.

Henry said nothing, eyes moving between Gabe and the end of the alley. He started to get back to his feet, but Gabe stopped him, waving him back down to sit on the ground.

Gabe took another long drag of his cigarette, exhaling a cloud of smoke that lingered between the pair of them and refused to dissipate. It floated slowly down towards Henry, a malicious grin playing on Gabe’s lips. If you aren’t going to say anything anyway-

Okay! he said, his eyes still fixated on the smoke. The fire. I got my hands on… on something.

The Phoenix Brand, Gabe said.

Henry blanched, his eyes flickering to Gabe. Yeah. That. It just washed up on the dock and it was like I had to put it on. Can you call this thing off?

Gabe said nothing, the smoke floating slowly down to Henry’s face until he could see his shallow breath distort the cloud when he exhaled.

Okay, okay. So I got it and it turned out that I was a bit too flashy with the thing. One of the guys I work with says he’s from the Order of the Finnish or something like that and they’ve been looking for it. I wouldn’t give it to him, so one day, he breaks in and tries to take it from me. We fight, I lose. That’s all there is.

I want his name, Gabe said.

Henry hesitated, his eyes on the smoke in front of his face. Gabe made a gesture and Henry’s head started moving deeper into the smoke.

Argo! he pleaded, trying desperately to pull his head away. Guy’s name is Fenton Argo!

Gabe nodded and the smoke dissipated. He released his hold on Henry, the other man smacking his head hard against the brick. He stayed on the ground, dazed.

Gabe left him there, walking out of the alley.

Fenton Argo. He headed for the office. He had a file on his desk with the address of every single member of the Ordu Finnire, including Argo. If he could get it tonight, then he could rest easy knowing that Cheryl would be back in his arms soon enough.

No, Argo wouldn’t be at home. In three days there would be a blue moon and Argo was a high ranking member of the cult. He would be preparing protections for the ritual, thinking that whatever they had planned would best the Syndicate’s efforts.

Gabe walked through the front doors of the office and then back out, the door now leading to a spot between two warehouses. The night had settled fully, though the clouds and light from the city blocked the view of the stars. The moon was there, still not showing her full face, but shedding enough light to show him the way. He took a deep breath of the salty air and started walking along the docks.

The warehouse on the dock looked like it had been abandoned for years. For all anyone knew, it was. It had gone bankrupt a decade previous and had never been resold or repurposed. This part of the pier had been abandoned.

Gabe found a side door and tried to push it gently open. It stuck and he tried pushing harder to no avail. When he threw his shoulder into it, it screeched open, the sound echoing off the high, broken wooden roof and throughout the empty warehouse.

About time one of you guys showed up!

Almost empty. The door behind him creaked closed, but his eyes were on a tall, scrawny man with a crooked smile approaching him. Argo kept his hands in his pockets, shoulders back and relaxed as he came closer. He walked slowly and sized Gabe up. Shining on his wrist was a familiar looking bracelet.

Always knew Syndicate sent someone in here to sabotage us. I thought you’d be bigger. Not that it matters. You’re a few days early and not going to make it to see us summon her anyway.

Argo had already decided they would fight. With the Brand, Gabe had no idea what he could do or what to prepare for, so he looked at what was available. Casually, he lit his cigarette with his fingers, giving him a little smoke and fire to work with. Concrete beams held up what was left of the roof, the holes in which showed the sky above clearing to give him a little more light. The rest was mostly wood, which was going to be difficult to work with. Wood and things that used to be alive didn’t like listening to him. The concrete below, however, would listen if he called it loudly enough.

I don’t give a shit about your summoning ritual, Argo, he told him, reaching into his pocket for the dead lighter. I’m just here for that trinket you picked up. Hand it over and I’ll let you walk out of here.

Argo let out a laugh. He shook his head and looked up at Gabe, literal flames in his eyes.

Gabe was expecting fire to appear, but he didn’t think it would be so quick or so large. The column of flame erupted up from his feet to over his head, ready to incinerate anything caught inside it to ash.

He closed his eyes and stepped out of the fire, taking the lighter from his pocket. His cigarette had disintegrated in the flames and his coat was on fire. Flicking the lighter open, he pulled the fire off of his clothes and tried to ignore the smell of his burning coat and hair. The flames slowly funneled off of his clothes and into the lighter, fighting him as he pulled them away from the smoking leather. The lighter was blisteringly hot from containing the flames, but he kept the pain of it from showing on his face. He needed to focus on getting the flames off.

Once the fire was gone, he lit another cigarette with the flames in the lighter. It burned his hand to use and he tucked it into his pants pocket. He was tempted to discard his jacket, because of the smell of burnt leather more than the fire damage, but it could probably take a little more heat before it stopped being useful.

You’re a little better than you look, Argo said, frustrated as he brought the column of flames down with a gesture, leaving only concrete where the wooden floor once covered it. His eye twitched and his arms spread out wide, fire forming in each of his hands. This is going to be fun.

Gabe started moving and tried to find cover in the open space. He dove behind the nearest support beam, the fire balls thrown at him flying past and missing him by a wide margin. Like the column of fire, the flames burned away the wood before they died away, leaving the concrete exposed.

He took a puff of his cigarette and breathed out smoke, the cloud of it floating to the left of the pillar and expanding. He held the cigarette between two fingers at the butt and forced the fire to burn the rest of it away. More smoke formed until the cloud covered the space between several of the concrete supports in front of Argo.

Come on, Argo taunted, throwing more fire into the cloud of smoke. Is this really the best the Syndicate has to offer? But I bet you weren’t expecting me. You were just going to do something simple, right? Find our supplies, maybe substitute out the silver for steel? Hope we didn’t notice and think the ritual didn’t work again? Hope that maybe we’d give up? You think we don’t know you’re doing that? We figured it out ages ago. You’ve gotten lucky so far, but she sent me a gift. She wants to be summoned! And this time, nothing will stop her.

Gabe took off his jacket and drifted it into the smoke. He moved back behind a further pillar where the fire had burned the wood away to give him a clear path to the concrete. From safety, he watched as the fire continued to fly through the smoke, now directed at his floating jacket. He moved it back and forth like it was trying to avoid the balls of flame and hoped that it didn’t catch fire itself. With Argo’s aim, though, he wasn’t that worried.

Gabe directed his jacket more into the centre of the cloud of smoke. Argo took the bait, coming closer.

Concentrating on the far pillar, Gabe kicked at the ground. The concrete beam fell outward, the roof it held up falling down into the edges of the smoke and the bulk of it falling directly onto Argo. He could barely hear Argo cry out as the timber crashed on top of him. The wood cracked and shattered as it shook the entire warehouse, sending splinters past Gabe as he took cover behind the pillar.

Not letting the smoke dissipate just yet and leaving his coat hanging in the middle of it, he peered through to try and see if Argo was staying down.

A bright light shone from under the rubble. The pile of fallen roof rumbled and shifted before a large ball of fire erupted from underneath it. It unfurled near the hole in the roof, wings spreading to become the form of a bird. He could see Argo in the middle of it, arms outstretched and fire pouring out from deep gashes all over his body. A piece of wood sticking out from his side was on fire, turning quickly to ash and fire licking his wounds away.

He looked completely healed only a few moments later when he opened his eyes. Argo caught the dark spot in the smoke where Gabe’s jacket still hung and he dove directly at it.

Gabe immediately stamped hard on the empty concrete spot, the concrete crumbling outward and down into the ocean.

Argo crashed through the floor and head first into the ocean.

Gabe dropped back against the pillar, panting as his muscles ached from the effort. He only needed a moment to catch his breath; nowhere near done with this yet. He still needed to get the Brand and he could see Argo’s body bobbing in the water and slowly slipping under the waves.

He called some of the smoke over to him and down onto the waves before jumping. He walked on the smoke closer to Argo’s unconscious body, bending down and grabbing him by the wrist to relieve him of the Phoenix Brand.

Nothing. The Brand wasn’t there.

A moment of panic swept over him. If there was no Brand, he couldn’t save Cheryl. That was the whole reason he did all this. It needed to be there. If not there, then somewhere close. It was probably still close. The waves couldn’t have taken it that far yet.

Gabe brought the smoke up around him and sank further down below the waves. He took out another cigarette. If it took all night, he would find it.

***

The sun had risen twice and was about to set again when he finally stepped back out of the water on the other side of the city. The ocean had taken it back again. He had looked under every rock and piece of garbage at the bottom of the ocean off the coast of Vancouver and come up with nothing. Finally, he gave up.

It was a foolish hope. She was never coming back. There was nothing he could ever do to bring her back to him again.

At least he might still be able to see her one more time and say goodbye. But not like this. He would head home, surround himself with her and fix himself up. And then, before it was too late, he would see her before all was left were ashes and photos.

Terror Twins

Gabe left the lights on this time as he shuffled through the pile of files on his desk, trying to find the tape of the interrogation from this morning. He had taken the rest of the day off afterwards, but now, deep in the night, he wanted to know for sure that it happened as he’d been told.

The events from that morning played again in his head as he sorted through the mess of paperwork on his desk.

***

It had been a normal morning. After working until the sun rose again, the files were finally beginning to dwindle. He’d approved additions to the cases, sent several off to the board for someone else to pick up or to specific people he knew would finally finish off the job, and he was almost able to see what colour his desk was again.

And then he went for coffee. When he came back, a thick file was sitting atop the pile, this one bright red. A red file meant it was something that he would have to deal with personally.

He’d turned around to head home, pretending he didn’t see it and call it a night, but he knew he’d have to deal with it sooner or later. When he lifted his hand to turn the door knob, he was holding the file.

Apparently ignoring it wasn’t going to be an option. He dropped into one of the chairs in front of his desk and opened the folder.

It was one he was familiar with. The Terror Twins case file had been on and off his desk for years with little updates in regards to their movements and full of contradicting information. Their names were Di and Ezra Thrice. They were anywhere between six and eight years old and worked as enforcers for Nostra, the most prolific narcotics trafficker in the city, and kept things operating smoothly while Nostra dealt with his more exotic imports personally. They left grown men in tears, scared of their own shadows. Many of those men chose to end their own lives rather than risk facing the twins again.

And then there were those who they killed outright. The murders looked unnaturally clean for something committed by a child’s hands.

When Nostra died several months ago, the file stopped showing up on Gabe’s desk.

He read over the newest page to the file with his instructions on it. The Twins were found, brought to Holding, and waiting. Instead of disposing of them or neutering their abilities, he needed to hire them.

He continued to leaf through the file, carefully reading over old reports. He told himself then that it was so he could close a few more cases involving them and to know what he was up against. Now he could admit that he was hesitating.

When he finally left the office an hour later, he thought he was ready. He had a plan and knew just what to ask of them to close a few cases. He’d find out what they had done and what they could do. He could figure out some place where they could work.

It would be easy. They were just children.

They were in Holding, a large section in the center of the building that served as a small prison. It was surrounded by cubicles and small offices for regular employees or freelancers who had been around long enough that they claimed a space for themselves, which meant that there were guards always on hand so long as they were promised cash to keep anyone from escaping.

A large Native American man sat at the desk in front of a pyramid of monitors, half watching them and half shuffling a deck of cards in an increasingly elaborate fashion. He didn’t look up as he said, Tell me you’re here for the kids, Chief. I’m going to run out of cells for the idiots who keep trying to break in to gawk at the fallen Terror Twins.

Another monitor grew out of the top of the pyramid.

What can you tell me about them, Nick?

Just picked up from something called the Hamper case, he replied, ignoring the pleas on the newest screen, a man insisting that he just wanted to see. Nick turned off the monitor. There was a scream that was abruptly cut off. Couple guys were using kids to steal stuff and, for some reason, they decided to get caught with everyone else when the cops raided the place. Contact over there said they wanted to be transferred here.

Gabe kept his expression slightly annoyed as he mulled over the information. He should have known better than to waste his time wondering how the infamous duo had managed to get caught in some pathetic police raid and put behind bars at all. Nick was right. They let themselves get caught.

They requested the transfer? he had asked. In retrospect, he should have asked if he was going to talk to them individually. It would have saved him a lot of trouble.

They even knew who to ask, Nick said, his eyes flickering to one of the monitors. We’re not going to be able to use him again for a while, though. They roughed him up a bit before they showed up here.

What else?

Not much. They look like they’re about fourteen. Looked surprised when their magic stopped working. Brother had a glock, sister had a revolver. Handed those over pretty easy, though. They also say they really just want to talk.

Great, he’d said, ready to just get it over with. Where are they?

We just moved them for you, Nick had replied. They’re waiting in the third to your left. I’ll be watching.

***

Now hours away and in a well lit office rather than the dark interrogation room, he found the tape buried in his paperwork and pulled a dusty television with a stand out of the closet. It had been ages since he had used it, but tonight it was necessary. The VHS slipped into the player, the small machine whirring as he turned on the television.

His mind detached itself from the events on the screen, telling him to think of it as one of those bad cop shows on reruns rather than something that actually happened, to look carefully and find the mistakes. Mistake number one being that they didn’t have any restraints on them as they sat rather nervously across from him.

***

He watched them silently, the pair shuffling nervously under his gaze and taking separate accounts of the room. They looked like twins, at least. The girl had strange green eyes that seemed to fade more and less blue as she took her account while the boy’s stayed a very stable brown. Different jaw line, different lengths of the same dark brown hair, different well worn clothing, but definitely twins, and definitely fourteen year old kids. He had been thinking they were too young and inexperienced to be of any threat to someone like him, who had already seen too much. He had let his guard down at the sight of the scraggly teens. Mistake number two.

They looked at one another, their faces cracking from their frightened wonderment into a wary smile before they turned in sync towards him. He could not see his own face in the video, but he knew he kept it expressionless for now.

Are we in trouble? the boy, Ezra, asked. He looked at him, eyes wide and scared.

We said we wanted to work off whatever trouble we’ve caused, Di said, nodding and looking just as innocent. He noticed now that the room had darkened a little as they began to speak, though it was so slow he had almost missed it, and the twins had become somewhat lighter. Not noticing it at the time would make it mistake three.

Consider this an interview, he said. There was no waver in his voice to betray how unsettled he was by the two of them. They were supposed to be dangerous, but looking at them, they were just scared kids.

They nodded and began to say something, but he cut them off.

You are not going to talk unless I ask you to, he continued. You want to work here, we’re going to close every file that’s remotely linked to the pair of you. If I decide to let you on instead of locking you both up, you will do what I decide you are good for and you will report to me. Got it?

They nodded timidly. At the time he thought he was intimidating, but he was definitely going easy on them. Maybe he hadn’t wanted to, but he was. He remembered a slight hum in the room and could hear it again on the tape, though now he leaned in close and watched, catching Ezra’s lips moving faintly throughout it all. An oversight, but not necessarily a mistake just yet.

On the tape, he shook his head and muttered something. The infamous Terror Twins, eh? At the time, he couldn’t believe that these kids could be such trouble.

He watched the pair of them on the tape as the humming stopped for just a second. The pair glanced at one another and their wide eyes narrowed. When they turned back, they didn’t look nearly so innocent anymore. He’d missed it at the time.

I’ve been told you requested the transfer here, he said. You got yourselves involved in some trouble with the regular police and were arrested.

You mean those guys and the other kids we got arrested with? Ezra asked.

We thought it was a good business opportunity.di’s from Di took over with a sly smile. He wanted us to steal for him in exchange for room and board. I think he had some mojo on him too, because some of the others were saying how great he was but he was just a big fucking idiot. So we stole a little for him, and then we ended up keeping most of the stash for ourselves, or returning it for reward money and little gifts.

And you were caught?

We all get caught eventually, Di said.

And where were you before that?

Confusion crossed both of their faces. Genuine, as he had suspected before, as they looked imploringly at one another. They looked back at him, the innocence returning for a moment. Di offered an apologetic smile as she spoke. I’m sorry, what do you mean by that?

Once Nostra was no longer your employer, the pair of you dropped off the radar. A few months after that, reports came in of people who went missing for days only to be found hiding in bathrooms and closets of their own houses. Witnesses reported two children roaming around the houses for a few days and leaving without a trace. The house inhabitants, all of which were adults who lived on their own, reported inviting children into their house who wanted to use the phone for a moment and then reported them turning into demons and creatures, or their houses changing into alternate dimensions.

He watched Di closely as he spoke, noticed her eyes became a sharp, icy blue every time he referred to them as children. The anger was mirrored in Ezra’s face, though he had been careful at the time to avoid looking directly at his interrogator, concentrating instead, it seemed now, on his mutterings. Even Di was careful to avoid Gabe’s eyes, looking instead above his head to the camera and seeming to stare directly at him as he watched now, hours later. It was hours later.

It was also the moment in which he made his biggest mistake.

Di let out a sigh and shrugged lightly, relaxing. Her smile turned into a goofy grin and her eyes grew just a little wider than normal. Have you ever lived on the streets? she asked. It’s cold out there at night, especially in the winter. Freezing. We all do what we have to just to make it through to spring again. They were nice enough to let us in, but we never really figured out why they were hiding.

He remembered the stern and prying look he had given them, piercing and looking for the break in their resolve, trying to determine the truth of the matter. Di seemed to shy away, seeking out her brother’s eyes. They went very quickly and fluidly from being timid children to predators locked in a room with their prey, their faces loosening into sly grins.

Well, that’s not entirely true, Ezra admitted. Say, are you a very religious person?

***

He paused the tape a there, replaying Ezra’s last line once more and watching him. His hand had moved, though he did not remember it. He couldn’t quite figure out why that little wave was in there or why it seemed so important.

Or maybe he was focusing on the small movement to distract himself from what came next. He wasn’t sure at the time why he kept talking to them instead of leaving. Leaving would have been much smarter.

Gabe played the tape.

***

No. My wife was, though. Used to go to church with her some Sundays before she died.

A dead wife? Di leaned forward on the table, her grin showing far too many of her teeth. Please tell me there was a baby too.

Was there a baby? Ezra asked.

Not yet. She was pregnant with our daughter.

Oh this is perfect, Di said with a demon’s grin, her teeth now all sharp. It’s been so long since we’ve had a dead baby story.

Now don’t tease him, sister, Ezra said, he too cracking open a grin of jagged teeth. We’ve probably passed them at some point, now haven’t we? You see… whoever you are, he said, a slight wave once again in an offhanded gesture as his fingers began to expand into claws, we happen to be visiting the surface from down below. Seeing what life is like up here, taking in a few of the sights, that sort of thing.

There is so much misery up here for us, Di continued, her transformation flowing through more quickly than her brother’s as she became one of the most hellish beings he had ever seen, and he had seen more of hell on earth than he would ever care to admit. Her hands were nothing more than claws, steel and bone jutting out from the flesh and dripping with blood. Her jaws were likewise, with blood dripping down them as if from a fresh kill. Her skin had hardened, scaled with metal and bone. The bits of flesh from her former body still held together and started to slowly slide off, getting caught on the scales on her larger form. Her face was now no more than skull plated with steel and bits of muscle lingering on a protruding jaw, threatening to fall off any moment. We’ve been feasting. It’s delicious up here.

Her brother’s transformation finished soon after, and it was no easier to watch on video than it had been in person. The camera had not been able to pick up the sound of tearing flesh that had reverberated in his ears. At least the camera also missed the look of horror that was certainly splattered across his face.

Don’t look so worried, Ezra said as Di stepped up onto the table, cracking the wood with her weight as he threw himself against the other side of the room. The door had disappeared. She won’t kill you. Maim, but not kill. We’re just going to do what we need so that yo-

***

Pause. Watching the tape, he noticed two very strange things. First, Ezra’s voice was not the harsh and rough voice of hell that he had been hearing in the room, but still that of a fourteen year old boy. A fourteen year old boy whose voice just cracked.

There was the second thing. It was only a flash and he replayed it a few times, but it was definitely there. Like coming out from behind an invisible veil, there was a flash of brown hair. Di’s from how it just swung in and out of sight of the camera. There was something to that, but he wasn’t sure what just yet.

His thumb hovered over the play button a moment before he set the remote down and picked up the coffee next to him instead. Tearing his eyes away from the dark room on screen, he took some comfort in the well lit office.

It was hours ago. It was all well over now and he wasn’t going to let himself get shook up a second time over what a couple of kids had done. The little bastards were not going to get the best of him.

Still, he looked over at the television hesitantly. What came next, he still remembered far too vividly and he was definitely not over it yet. He wasn’t sure he would ever be. He could fast forward through it, but that would be like admitting defeat. He wasn’t about to admit defeat to them a second time in twenty four hours, much less when they weren’t even here.

Nerves steeled, he went back to the tape, letting out a breath to calm himself. He hit play once more, though his thumb hovered over the stop button.

***

-u can see your lovely wife once again. It was so strange to see a full grown demon speaking with the voice of a child.

It was stranger to see the camera shift. It actually moved, though a little shakily at first, to follow the demon that was once Di as it approached him and he could see his own wary face as he backed away from the thing.

Di’s claws came up and a wicked smile crossed her partial lips. He was cornered and she was blocking every exit with her massive husk. This will only hurt a bit, Ezra’s voice said soothingly as Di jabbed her claws forward, each like a blade thrust through his arms and embedding themselves in the wall. Well, maybe more than a bit.

He watched as he stifled a scream on the tape and the blood started to bleed through his shirt, running down his arms. Every flinch and movement only tore into him even more.

From this side of the screen, he rubbed his arms at the memory of the pain. There was no mark of what had happened on him; not so much as a bruise. But he still remembered the pain. It had felt so real, like bullets with a trail of nails following behind it that got stuck under his skin and tore through his muscle until they rubbed right up against the bone with every pain induced twitch, ripping his arms open the more he struggled.

It had distracted him from noting the effects on the rest of the room as it swirled and morphed like in a bad horror movie from the seventies. It darkened, becoming lit by the glow of the ground, now being covered with magma and hellfire. He had thought Di had raised him on the wall, but it looked like the floor had fallen below him instead , the demons not caring as their feet bathed in the magma. There were shadows that danced in the light of the fires, playing amidst the stone teeth in the cavern they had ended up in. There was nothing there to create them.

He remembered the wall feeling strange and he was beginning now to see why. The walls bulged and retracted behind him like they were breathing. They were alive and wriggling, arms, legs, heads, all seeming to have melted together, though each was desperately trying to pull itself free from the mass. There would be a writhing hand here that got free of the rest of the meat, an eye looking frantically elsewhere, a mouth open in a haunting wail in another place along the expansive hellish landscape that the room had become. He had felt it breathing on his back and it had made him want to retch, though he managed to hold it down then and still managed it now, though the living, bleeding walls still turned his stomach.

What do you want? he managed to choke out through the pain and disgust. Mercifully, his face was blurry through the haze from the heat and smoke of the fire. Whoever was controlling the camera seemed much more interested in showcasing the scenery and the demons that had once been children instead of his reactions.

We wanted to help you, came Di’s reply, even the tone far less malicious than he remembered.

We asked nicely and you were mean to us, Ezra added.

We really didn’t want to bring you down here.

We aren’t supposed to bring upworlders here before their time comes.

But we’re going to do something for you.

Because we are so very nice.

And we want to show that there are no hard feelings.

Bring out the bitch and the brat!

***

He hit the power on the VCR, the screen going black. His hands were shaking. He dropped the remote to the desk and sunk his forehead into the palms of his hands, breathing deep and trying to slow down his pounding heart. He wasn’t ready for this. He wasn’t.

Pushing away from his desk, he got to his feet and began to pace around the light of the office. Still, everywhere he moved, the television was still there in sight, taunting him and reminding him that he was letting those kids get the better of him. It also sent flashes of what was to come on the tape, memories of what he saw. His willingness to continue the tape was dwindling.

Gabe grabbed a small pack of cigarettes and left the safety of his well lit office to the halls of the Syndicate. It wasn’t really so dark, nor was it so quiet out here. People buzzed about, things exploded at random and there were still fights happening between the field agents, come in to check their desks to see if there were any new assignments to take or paper work to mysteriously catch fire.

Conversation was not what he looked for and certainly was not what he got. The halls were busy with volatile substances and tempers, and it was this combined with the grimly haunted look on his face that kept anyone from so much as coming near. He almost wished one of them would dare so that he could yell at them.

Instead he headed for the door, a cigarette from the case already in hand and being lit. The cool night air mingled with the calming smoke and he could feel his nerves finally start to relax. His hands were shaking less, at least.

They were just a couple kids on a tape. It happened hours ago. He was getting worked up over what a couple of teenagers managed to pull on him. The bastards were getting the upper hand. The memory of what he was about to watch was beating him.

And he wanted that memory to be done with.

He finished the cigarette and went back to his office. Before he could stop himself, he hit play and threw the remote at the door with a loud bang. Pride alone kept his eyes on the screen. He was not going to let those kids get the best of him. He simply was not.

***

The camera moved further down the wall of writhing flesh as something began to force its way through the convulsing muscles, the camera once more not picking up the cracking bones he knew he heard before. As his wife broke through the skin, he forcefully detached himself from the images on screen. It was someone else. Anyone else. It had to be.

Surprisingly, his desperate plan worked and he saw something strange. The face and body as it burst through had no features on it. It wasn’t really a person, just a featureless doll. There was none of his wife’s blond hair falling in her face, or her hollow and desperate voice calling his name. The scraps of clothing were still there, but none of her. There were only the injuries.

He noticed that the Ezra demon had vanished. He had been so focused on Di, then his wife, that he hadn’t noticed.

He wished he kept the remote with him so he could mute the audio. He could hear himself start to crack and break between the pain and his desperation to see his wife again and save her from this awful place. It had all been too much and listening to it now was embarrassing.

He told himself it was someone else and tried to ignore it.

Something dropped from the ceiling, now far lower than he remembered it being. He had been told that this was his unborn daughter, now bathed in blood and dangling in a noose made out of her own umbilical cord. Unlike the woman in the wall, he could make out every gratuitous detail on the baby.

At the top of the cord, however, just within the reach of the camera there was a slight fade where he could see the rafters of the interrogation room through the stalactites.

He watched himself collapse into a hopeless blubbering mess as Di pulled her claws out of his arms and let him collapse onto a small bit of rock.

This was the last he remembered happening. He leaned in as Di’s demon vanished completely and Ezra stepped forward, the demon form evaporating off of him until he was a kid once more.

Now, Ezra commanded, his hand absently waving once again, you are going to close your eyes and keep thinking you’re stuck in hell with your dead family and all that crap until either you leave the room or we do. You are not going to make a sound or notice anything else.

The room returned to normal, less Gabe in the corner curled up in the fetal position and silently shaking. There was no sign that anything unusual had happened at all left.

Ezra got onto the completely intact table and looked directly into the camera.

Who are you kidding? We know you’re hiring us anyway. We’re willing to play nice and do what you want, but call us that and you’ll end up like him, got it? We’re done.

The camera moved again, less fluidly through the shots now as it settled back onto its original perch and adjusting until it focused once more on the table in the middle of the room and the seats on the other side.

Ezra jumped down from the table, looking up to the camera as it made its final adjustments. Di appeared, jumping down from some point behind the camera after probably being the one who filmed the whole thing. Landing lightly on the table, she laughed with her brother. They muttered something about it being fun and too long before they pulled themselves together.

They nodded to one another and went to the door, pounding on it frantically until someone off camera, Nick, opened it. Di was the first to start wailing. Ezra was slightly calmer and tried to explain that their interrogator had just collapsed and started acting like that. They both insisted that didn’t know what happened.

***

He reached over and stopped the tape before turning off the VCR. Those kids definitely earned the name the Terror Twins. Gabe could sympathize with all those people who had reported them in their house. They needed to be kept locked away somewhere where they could be observed, but not watched.

He lit another cigarette and flipped through the file again, trying to find some loophole that would allow him to lock them up, strip them of their powers, or be rid of them entirely. No matter how many times he combed through the instructions, he couldn’t find a way around it. They will work for the Syndicate. They and their magic will remain intact.

At least what they could do was somewhat obvious now. Di could make you see whatever she wanted you to see and Ezra could make you believe it, not to mention make you do whatever he asked. Neither of these things explained how they were able to do it in a room that was supposed to be a magic free zone.

The why of the matter was also bothering him. Why did they want to join up with the Syndicate in the first place? They would clearly be fine on their own. And why would they bother with an innocent child act when they knew everything was being recorded anyway? The two of them made little sense and he did not want to deal with them any more than he had to.

He opted to focus on the questions he could actually get answers to first. It was about time for Nick to come in for his shift. Grabbing his coffee mug, he slowly went