Secrets & Shadows

“Yes, Mrs. McCarthy, I’m sure,” I said as I pinched the bridge of my nose with my thumb and forefinger with one hand, while my other held my landline phone to my ear. “Yes, it’s just a harmless poltergeist-type entity.” The room began to spin.

Mrs. Donna McCarthy, my most recent client, was a middle-aged woman who had hired me to find out why her furniture, and sometimes her kitchenware, would rearrange and stack itself up without a sound. I found out the little cottage she had built for herself in the woods, on the outskirts of town, was in a forest elemental’s territory. The elemental was upset that its space was being invaded and wanted to make the invader leave. I had explained this several times over the last hour on the phone with her. I developed one whopper of a migraine as I began to chew on my nails.

“But what should I do about this? Should I confront it?” She asked me for the um-teenth time. Man, this woman was persistent and really pissing me off.

“As I’ve said ma’am,” I began to say, as the dark cloud in my brain tempted me to tell her off, but I bit my tongue against anything I would regret saying, “that is all up to you. Just use your best judgment. It is harmless. Ignore it and leave you alone. You just have to put up with it for a while.” I gritted my teeth.

“Well, thank you anyway, Mr. Frost. Good bye,” Mrs. McCarthy finally said, hanging up the phone.

“Good bye,” I replied to no one and hung up as well. I slunk back in my chair and thought about how I disliked stubborn and stupid people. I rubbed my temples with my fingertips in an attempt to diffuse my migraine and keep my brain from getting overloaded.

Perhaps I should introduce myself: my name is Lance Frost, paranormal investigator, bouncer and (most importantly) sorcerer extraordinaire! Well, maybe not that extraordinaire. I don’t like to advertise that I’m a magic user; that kind of publicity comes with a lot of baggage. I live in a town in Kansas called Kaw City, to which I moved about five years ago from another, even smaller, town in Kansas and I’m also cursed with an anxiety disorder.

Kaw City is a moderately large town, which lies about ten miles southeast of the geographical center of the United States. The town is big enough where it can take a little while to get across town if there’s traffic, and has stupidly high rent due to the nearby college. But, the town isn’t so big where you won’t run into the same person twice in a week. It also has an incredibly deep and bloody history which makes it a hotbed for paranormal activity.

“Did you finally get them to hang up, Sir?” A small voice squeaked from my couch.

I got up from my chair and pushed my desk aside and pulled the punching bag I had in the corner out a few feet. My desk wasn’t anything huge or fancy, just a very basic, and very inexpensive, office desk. I had to be careful moving it as there were a lot of papers and a myriad of occult books piled precariously upon it. I didn’t have a lot of room to push my desk as my apartment, in which I also worked, was kind of small.

It’s just a very small one bedroom apartment with a small kitchenette and an equally small bedroom. The only thing that really makes it special is that the landlord allowed me to have my name on the door:

Lance Frost

Paranormal Investigations

“Yes, I finally did, Puck,” I said as I slipped on a pair of boxing gloves and began to land some punches. “Unfortunately, general human stupidity and stubbornness frustrate the hell out of me,” I said as I continued punching the bag. Slowly my brain started to calm down and my heart began to race from the cardio and not its fight-or-flight instinct.

“Good,” said Puck. “I thought they would never hang up.” The voice from the couch would be my partner, Puck.

Puck is a faery. No not that kind, a real faery! Puck is about ten inches tall and of ambiguous gender, (I call Puck ‘he’ but faeries of the Summer variety don’t recognize, nor do they actually have, a gender. Sure I could call Puck ‘she’ or ‘they’ but Puck never protested on whatever pronoun I chose. Besides, his features looked slightly more masculine to me). Puck’s skin resembles gray stone and his hair is a tuft of short white fluff which has always reminded me of a troll doll. He wears a small piece of red cloth like a tunic that reaches his mid-thigh. Puck’s six wings resemble a dragonfly’s and he glows orange when he’s in mid flight. He otherwise looked androgynous and spoke with an Irish or Gaelic accent and is always very in tune with other human’s emotions.

“Yeah, me neither,” I said as I landed a round kick to the bag. My shin produced a loud thud as it contacted the bag. The chains that held it up rattled in protest to the hard hit. “It’s a shame that stupidity isn’t a fatal disease. Or at least excruciatingly painful.”

Paranormal investigation, or ghost hunting as some call it, wasn’t the only job I had. My fees and retainers helped keep the lights on, but sometimes it wasn’t enough. So when business is slow, I help as a bouncer at an old friend’s bar. I might not be a mountain of muscle like most bouncers, but I’ve practiced and studied various martial arts throughout the years and it’s made me just as effective. Plus, aside from investigating, martial arts really helped calm me when my anxiety flared up and tried to control me.

“Is that why you get so many headaches, Sir?” Puck asked, sitting on the small couch, watching TV, eating out of a giant bowl of popcorn. The popped kernels were about as big as his hand and he somehow, comically, popped them into his mouth one at a time. It was an effect similar to Shaggy and Scooby eating a six foot tall multidecker sandwich. Popcorn and other human snack foods were addictive to that little guy, who couldn’t get enough of it.

“Oh, shut it!” I retorted, landing a rather hard right hook. Taking frustrations out on my punching bag was a great way to keep my head clear. All the negative emotions I had built up tend to cloud my thinking and makes my magic sloppy. I suppose some self therapy is a form of minor magic in and of itself. Doing something healthy or productive to let out what you’re feeling, almost always feels good in the end.

“Puck, I swear,” I said. “If I get one more person that thinks they’ve seen Bigfoot, a demon, or the Loch Ness monster in a man-made rural lake…” I hit the bag again with alternating round kicks at every suggestion, the chains holding it protested again louder at each hit. “I get that people might not believe in magic, that they think it’s all some Penn and Teller showbiz tricks, but if I could just get one little case where there is actually something legitimate.” I punched the bag a few more times before holding myself up on it breathing a little heavy. The darkness in my mind had retreated and all was quiet in my head.

“Speaking of stupid,” Puck said. “I don’t think I have ever understood you humans for as long as I’ve lived in your world. Other humans actually give you slips of green paper for -”

“Shush,” I interrupted. “Someone’s coming.” Someone had come stomping, slowly, down the hall to my home office and knocked. My heart started to race and that all too familiar darkness began to creep up inside my mind.

I checked the time on the clock on my wall, “ten minutes to quitting time.” I muttered. The person knocked again a bit louder.

“Yes, come in!” I said loud enough for the person to hear as I threw off my gloves, pushed the punching bag back into its corner and pulled the desk back to its original position. I did my best to remember to breathe.

A person shaped like a ball came in, heavy footed. That explained the stomping. He was short, about five foot two, and bald except for a halo of hair around the sides and back of his head and a very bushy mustache. He resembled something more like a bloated frog with hair than a man. He wore a pale yellow suit with a powder blue shirt and red paisley tie. The man was a bit pale in the face and was sweating, probably from his walk. Man, talk about no sense of fashion. It was a pretty stark contrast to my black slacks, black shoes, and dark purple shirt with black tie. So I like black and dark clothes, what of it?

“Can I help you?” I said leaning back against my desk, hiding the mess of papers and books stacked upon it.

“Yes, I hope you can,” He spoke with a lot of strain and stress. His mustache was beginning to shimmer with sweat. Gross. Puck shot up and hovered in the air above the couch and flew around this, I assumed, potential client. “I’m missing a client of mine, a rather important one.”

“Sure you didn’t sit on them?” Puck chimed in as he buzzed around his large midsection, “or eat them?” Puck gave a high pitched chuckle as he hovered above the man’s head. I glared at Puck. The man apparently took notice and looked up.

Normal people can’t see Puck, luckily. Just anyone with magical abilities or properties. So other sorcerers, wizards, and magical entities like spirits, other fae, werewolves, vampires, babies and so on. (Yes, even babies. Babies themselves are magical in their own right. Their magic just disappears once they’ve lost their first tooth). Pretty much anyone who isn’t a normal, mundane, humdrum human.

“Is there a fly or something?” The man croaked as he swatted the air while Puck so nimbly dodged each hand.

“Oh, no sorry. Long day,” I said, playing it off and trying to refocus on him. “So who’s this important client you’ve lost mister...?” I inquired, eyeballing Puck as he continued to examine my new client.

“Smith. Edward Smith. Call me Eddy please. I’m the manager for a band, Sexy Little Voodoo Dolls. And the client I’ve lost is our bassist,” he said with a bit of urgency but with a business tone like he was trying to sell me on himself. “We’re on tour and we’ve stopped here due to some mechanical troubles with our bus,” Eddy continued. “It’s lucky we managed to break down here. Smaller cities usually give us the discretion we prefer.”

Holy shit, Sexy Little Voodoo Dolls? This band was my absolute favorite! They rose up in fame just recently, over the last few years, seemingly out of nowhere though were still a bit of an indie band. But they were gaining quite a following. They are a heavy metal band with a unique sound combining the voice of an opera singer and metal music. I think it was a genre called symphonic metal. They had a certain Je ne sais quoi as they say. I was doing my best not to let Eddy realize that I was a huge fan.

Even though I was excited, I had to also remember that their missing member could be hurt afterall. In the back of my mind, I began to wonder why he was asking a ‘ghost hunter’ to look for a missing person?

“Oh, sorry, where are my manners? Please have a seat.” I pulled up a sturdy chair from next to me and placed it in front of my desk to allow him to sit and face me while I sat behind it. “So tell me his name, description, and last known whereabouts.” I got my small notebook and got ready to write down a description. Being a huge fanboy it’s not like I didn’t already know. Even if this didn’t turn out to be something paranormal, at least I could give something to the cops if it came to it.

“Well, he goes by his stage name ‘Ghost’ but his real name is Jake Wallace,” Eddy began. “He’s about, oh I don’t know, five foot eight-ish, scrawny, with spiky green hair and two full sleeve tattoos of ghosts and wears primarily black.”

“So that’s how he got the stage name, huh? The tattoos I mean,” I said. “Do you have a recent photo of him to help identify him?”

“Yes, he wasn’t really the imaginative type,” Eddy said as he produced a photo. He pointed at the picture which showed Ghost and the lead singer together, “His girlfriend, who happens to be our lead singer, Siren. She is the one that came up with most of the stage names actually.”

“So where was he last seen?” I got ready to write again.

“We’re not sure exactly. Siren was with him last. Apparently the whole band thought it would be fun to use a ouija board in the tour bus a few weeks ago, since they were a little drunk and wanted to pretend to summon spirits or some crap. I was in the front of the bus with the driver at the time.

“Recently, we stopped here to gas up and get some fresh air for a few hours. Siren said they went out to one of the local bars and then as they were coming back to the bus, she said she saw a shadow move past her and then Ghost was gone!” Eddy said. “I will make this clear, I don’t believe in ghosts or spirits or other nonsense, but I will say some strange things started to happen that I feel are little more than coincidence.”

“Like, what exactly?” I asked him.

“We’ve had electrical problems at the venues, lighting has fallen on stage and nearly killed ‘Thorn’, our lead guitarist, a couple times. And just recently, our bus has had some unknown issues preventing it from starting, hence why we’ve been here longer than need be,” Eddy explained.

“I see. I assume everyone has tried calling Ghost on his phone since he disappeared?” I asked.

“Of course! But it seems his phone is dead,” He said dejectedly.

“Ok, so I have to ask, why come to me, rather than go to the police with a missing person’s report?” I put everything down on my desk. You’d figure that with a band just starting to get notoriety they’d want everyone out looking for him.

“We can’t afford any more bad publicity!” Eddy urged.

“What do you mean? Aren’t most rock groups pretty clean now? It’s almost like an industry standard now to not get into trouble or do drugs,” I said.

“It’s not that. It’s the band member’s relationship. It’s pretty unconventional. And since the relationship has gotten out as they’ve gotten more popular, the band, the label, and myself have all come under fire from the media on why they would allow it!” Eddy kept wiping away more and more sweat from his head and continued to fidget.

Sexy Little Voodoo Dolls was known to be a part of one giant polyamorous relationship. Meaning, all members of the band were all in a relationship with each other. This meant the two guys were a couple, the two girls were also a couple; and each of the girls had each of the guys as a significant other as well. All four of them were in a committed relationship with each other. You can see how the large conservative population of America would not be too pleased with this set up. When this was made public, I remember seeing lots of different boycotts on the band “promoting deviancy” and “promiscuity” in young people.

It’s not as if other music industry giants weren’t gay or known for getting around in their hay day. Not to mention the things that the people doing the boycotting were most likely guilty of as well. Pot, paging Kettle!

“Should I get a bucket or something, Sir?” Puck asked as he floated just to my right. “Looks like this one can fill it up pretty quick with all this sweat!”

I shooed Puck away and glared at him to behave. I even gathered a small bit of energy in the tip of my right forefinger and casually flicked it towards Puck. It was just a minor spell to silence his voice for a short time. My mother used it on me quite frequently when I started mouthing off as a teen. Nothing abusive mind you, but like every parent, I assume, you get tired of your child’s shit every so often. And silencing them, literally, helps in getting your voice heard. That’s what she’d tell me anyway.

“So you’re afraid that the police will let Ghost’s disappearance leak to the press, right?” I asked, trying to pin down the exact reason to come to me rather than get a manhunt out.

“Exactly,” he said.

“By the way, how did you find me?” This wasn’t really making any sense.

“To be honest, since we’ve only been here a little while we didn’t know who to ask,” Eddy said uneasily. He seemed almost embarrassed. “I looked up private investigators in the area on my company phone. Your name came up first with the most positive ‘Yelp!’ reviews.”

Well, at least the money I gave to various internet search sites was paying off a little bit. “Alright, final question. The $54,000 one: How long has he been missing exactly?”

Eddy swallowed and his frog-like, mustached face seemed to have sweat running down his face like a waterfall. “Four days,” He said flatly.

I nearly choked, “Four days?!”

“Yes, I realize that this is quite a while and we’ve mishandled the situation entirely. But please, you must help!” Eddy was starting to act frantic. Obviously he was under pressure from someone to get this SNAFU figured out.

“Is there any motive for him to go missing? Like, did anyone want to hurt him?” I asked only what I could think of. Missing persons and police investigating were not my forte. The only other questions I could think of were what I’ve heard on TV from police dramas.

“He did confide in me that he was thinking of leaving the band, not to mention leaving everyone else as well. Said he was exhausted and wanted to go solo. He never gave any other reason,” Eddy said.

I thought for a minute. This was a good opportunity to get some good money for once and actually pay rent on time. I glanced over to Puck. “Let me confer with my associate to make sure this is a good idea,” I said.

“What associate? There’s no one else here,” Eddy looked around flabbergasted.

I picked up my landline phone and motioned with it meaning I meant to call said associate. Eddy acknowledged his hastiness and mouthed an apology.

I emphasize that I use a landline phone as magic has a way to interfere with wireless signals. So Wi-Fi, cell phones, radio, anything like that just doesn’t work around us magic users. However wired cable TV, landline telephones, and wired internet usually aren’t affected. However, there can be some static or even some total malfunctions if a lot of magic is getting thrown around.

I looked over at Puck, still trying to talk after I silenced his voice box. I couldn’t quite see what he was mouthing at me, but it didn’t look nice. “My associate is out right now, so I have to give him a ring.” As I dialed a fake number and turned the volume down on the receiver, so Eddy couldn’t hear the dial tone, I sent a bit of energy towards Puck to have him get his voice back. “Hey Puck, it’s me!” I said as Puck ‘answered his phone’.

“Really? We’re doing this bit again?” Puck said annoyed and positioned his pinky and thumb like a phone like I had taught him years ago.

“Yup, you got it. So what do you think about looking for a rockstar?” I asked into the phone while glancing at Puck. He was talking into his hand like a phone.

“I think, since you’re such a super fan of this group of minstrels, you should double your price,” he said. “Think of all the popcorn and snacks that money can buy!”

“Always a one track mind with you isn’t it?” I chuckled. “Alright, sounds like a plan, we’ll get drinks later.” I hung up the phone and looked back at Eddy who’s suit looked like he’d just ran through a deluge of rain by this time. “Here’s the deal, Eddy. My retainer is $5000 plus expenses.”

“Five Grand!?” He spurted. He looked a bit more relaxed at that number. Damn, that wasn’t good.

“Yes, only because this is a high profile case that needs to be kept on the down low,” I explained. Eddy seemed calmer after thinking for a moment and understanding the situation he was in.

“Alright, I assume you work in cash,” He started to rummage through his jacket pocket and produced a large wad of moist cash. The truth is, I also take checks and cards and rarely deal in cash, but who am I to complain? ‘Shit, I really should have asked for more…’ I thought to myself. Story of my life.

“Pleasure to be in business with you, Eddy”. I left the cash where he placed it on my desk. I hate touching sweaty cash. Also, who carries that much cash at once? This made less and less sense the longer we spoke.

“Thank you, here’s my card,” He produced a card from a steel carrying case and handed it to me. At least this was dry save for the finger and thumb print on it. The card looked pretty expensive, stiff material, raised gold lettering for his name and music label he represented, plus his phone number on the bottom. “Please contact me as soon as you know something!”

“Of course, I’ll get on this first thing tomorrow. It will have my full attention.” Mostly because all the other cases I had were either non-existent, or just finished and I had nothing else to do.

Eddy thanked me again and left in a bit of a hurry. A large sweat mark was on the chair I leant him. Gross.

Puck went right back to his giant bowl of popcorn watching TV as I put the large amount of cash away in my money box I kept in my locked desk drawer to save until next month’s rent, which was stupidly expensive for this town. Afterwards, I went to sit next to Puck and took a handful of popcorn for myself and tried to calm down from the impromptu, and unprepared for, social interaction.

“Talk about being careful about what you wish for huh?” I remarked. “Speak of the devil and he appears.”

“Definitely a strange coincidence, Sir,” Puck said through a mouthful of popcorn.

“What are we watching by the way? It’s been on mute the whole time,” I asked, as I had not looked at the TV once all evening. I began looking for the remote to turn the volume on. Yes, remotes for TVs work since it’s infrared light and not radio waves.

“No idea,” Puck said with a full mouth, somehow. “I don’t understand human entertainment, I just look at the pretty moving pictures and try to figure out how you humans interact. Especially your mating rituals.”

“Mating rituals?” I asked. “What in the world are you talking about?”

I found the remote between the couch cushions and hit the mute button to turn the volume back on. It was then I realized why Eddy had been sweating so much. I heard a long drawn out moan of pleasure from the TV and my stomach dropped and my heart pounded in my head. I turned and noticed Puck had apparently found the Playboy channel and lesbian porn had been playing the entire time!

I stared blankly at the TV, “Puck?” I sighed.

“Aye, Sir?”

“You’re not allowed to channel surf anymore.”

“Why? Is this show bad or something?”

I rubbed my eyes while pinching the bridge of my nose again. This migraine just wasn’t going to quit. I began to chew on my nails and cuticles again as my stomach did backflips. For as long as Puck has been in the human world, he wouldn’t learn anything about us humans and absolutely refused to pick things up that didn’t directly pertain to him or his likes. It’s not all his fault, it’s just how faeries are. They don’t really care for anything unless there’s something in it for them. I’ve told Puck to at least try to learn about humans. He just happened to catch an odd interest in sex. Which was kind of understandable as his specific breed of faery doesn’t mate.

“Just-. Nevermind.” As I quickly changed the channel, regrettably, to something not as attractive as two beautiful women in the throes of passion, my phone rang. “Again with the late work? Ugh,” I grunted. “I’ll just let it go to voicemail.” The phone rang for its usual minute before switching over to the answering machine.

A large male voice came over the voicemail sounding very similar to Michael Clarke Duncan, “This is Detective Michael Green with Kaw City Police looking for Mr. Lance Frost for a proposed investigative assistance.”

I got up as fast as I could while he was leaving a message and grabbed the phone. “Yes, this is Lance Frost!” I said a little too eagerly over the phone. I had knocked over a fair amount of papers and a couple books off my desk in the rush.

“Mr. Frost, this is Detective Michael Green as I said before,” He began. “We have a rather unusual situation we would like you to look at and see if you can help out.”

“Um, I suppose I could but how did you get this number by chance?” I was a little nervous. What case could they have for me that they couldn’t do? And how did people keep coming to me for things that don’t go bump in the night?

“A rookie of ours apparently hired you once,a year or so ago, to get rid of ghosts in his home.” The detective said a little quieter, probably embarrassed to say it out loud. “Something about having good Yelp! reviews?”

“Alright in that case, to what do I owe the pleasure of our call, detective?” I said a little too politely.

“Well,” The detective paused as if looking for the right words. “We have a mummy. I can’t give out details over the phone. Please just come down right away. We’re at 11th and Warrior Avenue.”

I wrote down the corner address, it wasn’t too far away. “Alright, give me about ten minutes and I’ll be right there.” He gave me an affirmative grunt and we hung up the phone.

“Okay Puck, we’re going out! The police, apparently, need us.” I started to put papers back together on my desk and put the couple books that fell away on the built-in bookshelf on the adjacent wall. I went through my desk drawers and pulled out a few things that I might need while being out.

I didn’t know what to expect, so I grabbed the essential tools of a magic user: chalk, an amethyst pendant for dowsing, small vials of salt and holy water, and a focus ring, which is just a basic silver ring that I enchanted in case I need to use any offensive magic, and my jacket. Which was just a plain black hoodie that zips in front, of which I added a few pockets to the inside.

As a sorcerer, our magic kinda runs wild as it is part of our DNA, as opposed to witches or wizards who are born with a minute amount of magic ability, but need to learn how to harness it and make it grow. Sorcerers just need a small tool to focus direct magic so it doesn’t go astray and harm any bystanders.

“The human peacekeepers?” Puck asked. “What do they need?”

“They said they have a mummy to look at,” I answered as I packed the items into my jacket pockets.

“Is that unusual for humans? To see a mummy I mean.” Puck inquired while scratching the wild hair on his head.

“Well yeah, Puck. It’s not something humans deal with everyday, unless you’re digging up 5000 year old tombs in Egypt. Or going through a museum.”

“That’s kinda gross, why would anyone want to dig up dead humans?”

“Oh never mind, let’s just go,” I sighed again as we walked out the door and made our way outside.

I drew in my jacket, crossed my arms and shivered as a chill wind blew. This was typical weather being mid October in Kansas; especially with how annoyingly windy it always is. The sun was beginning to go down and it set the sky ablaze with beautiful shades and hues of reds, oranges and purples. Kansas might not have a lot, but the landscape scenery is amazing!

Puck and I got into my car, which was parked in the designated lot for our apartment building. My car wasn’t anything special by any means. Just a very old 1992 red Chrysler LeBaron. You’re probably wondering for the amount of money that I took, why I drove such an old, beat up, piece-of-crap car. Well the reason is simple: older cars worked better for magic users. Less wireless, electronic and technical stuff, the better. It ran rough and hard and loud but it was mostly reliable. We drove in silence for the ten minutes or so it took to get to where we needed to go.

We parked a couple blocks away from the corner that the Detective gave and easily found the crime scene. Lots of flashing lights, a squadron of police cars, a couple news trucks and lots of yellow police tape isn’t exactly difficult to find. A rookie beat cop was at the tape line, telling me I needed to go, that this was an active crime scene, blah blah blah. I held up my hand to stop him.

“I’m the guy that Detective Green called to check out his situation,” I said. “Lance Frost?” He nodded, apologized and took me behind the tape and took me to meet the detective while Puck trailed behind me.

“You Lance Frost?” Asked a deep voice. “About time you showed up. I’m Detective Green, we spoke over the phone.” Detective Green was a mountain of a man. He stood nearly six and a half feet, dwarfing my five foot ten inch height and was all muscle and dark skin. He wore a lavender colored button-up dress shirt with a dark purple striped tie with his badge around his neck falling near his solar plexus.

He held out his hand to which I grabbed and shook it as firmly as I could. This was extremely difficult as his hand was bigger than my face and hard as a rock. I could tell he was aware of his strength as he didn’t crush my hand but didn’t give me that horrible dead fish handshake either. He seemed like a genuinely nice guy outside of work. I smiled up at him as we finished exchanging grips, or my lack thereof.

“So what’s your situation again? Something about a mummy?” I asked, rubbing my hand from the grip and fidgeting with my fingers. Puck was orbiting Green’s massive form in fascination.

“Wow, Sir!” Puck had said in amazement. “I didn’t know humans came this huge! This one is like a giant!” Puck really hadn’t met anyone this intimidating, tall or muscular, so I don’t blame him for his examination and utter bewilderment of the size of the detective. I ignored Puck’s further comments.

“I may have not chosen the right words. This is weird and I don’t like weird,” he said apprehensively. “He’s not exactly a mummy but we weren’t sure what else to call it.” Green walked me over to where the body was located, near the opening of an alleyway.

A thin white sheet covered what lay at the alley. There was a young officer who couldn’t have been more than twenty years old, probably fresh out of the academy, sitting against the wall trying to get his composure with what looked like his most recent meal sitting on the pavement. The Detective pulled the sheet. When I saw the body and had to stop my stomach from being turned inside out as well.

The body did indeed look like a mummy. However, the skin wasn’t dry and firm like one. It looked as if the flesh was still malleable and soft but still had the look of a mummy. I suppose it could be more of a husk. The victim, his body lying on its left side, arms and legs bent slightly like he fell over like he had tripped. It looked like he had a bunch of tattoos on his arms that were now all blurred beyond recognition and maybe once had a decent amount of hair on his head. The hair that was still present was dry, thin and brittle. He wore an obscure band t-shirt that looked like it was from a concert and tight jeans. Both looked clean, newer and in good repair. There was also a very large and obviously bloody bite where his right shoulder met his neck.

“Detective, I imagine you noticed this giant grotesque bite mark, right?” I asked.

“Of course we did,” Green said. “We’re waiting for CSI to get here so they can tell us a bit more about it.”

“Who was he?”

“Well according to this,” Green said, producing a simple black leather wallet in a plastic evidence bag, “his name was Jake Wallace.”

“What the unholy shit? Are you kidding me?” I said in astonishment.

“What? You know this guy or something?” Asked Green.

“I was just hired, not thirty minutes before coming here, to find him. His manager said he had been missing for a few days.” I did my best to catch my breath and stop my head from spinning out of control from it all. More flips from my stomach urged me to turn away as I tried to suppress the oncoming bodily purge. I collapsed on my knees. I couldn’t believe that he was gone. I knelt and wept. Puck, who must have seen my condition, landed on my shoulder.

After taking a few minutes to calm down and collect myself, I agreed with the detective that the situation was definitely weird, albeit for different reasons that he thought. I filled the detective in on everything that Eddy had told me earlier that evening. “You think he, the manager I mean, might be a suspect?”

“Can’t tell you that right now,” he explained. “We have to have the evidence for that first. Can you tell us why he looks like this before the CSI and the ambulance get here?”

“I can try,” I said. “I don’t know what I’ll be able to do. But, we’ll see what happens.” It had been a long time since I saw a dead body outside of a funeral home. The experience was surreal. Here I was, looking at what was a young man who was now withered and very much dead. I’ve listened to this band’s music since the release of their first album and was kinda geeking out on the inside, what with being so close to a personal favorite member of my favorite band and all. Even if he is dead. It was bittersweet in an odd, macabre way.

“Frost, wait a moment,” Green put a hand on my arm just before I started to investigate.

“Is there something wrong?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Green said. His voice started to get quiet. “I don’t like weird shit. I didn’t even want to call you in the first place because, to me, this should all be black and white. That’s how it was in the Marines; good guys and bad guys. Good guys like me, and bad guys like our attacker. There’s weird things I see everyday as a cop and it always has a logical explanation, but I’m not worried about that. When I see something off the wall, out of left field and creepy, like this, it makes me very uncomfortable.”

I was a little perplexed at what exactly he was getting at. I told him so.

“What I’m saying is,” he said. “That I want you to let me know if this situation gets too far from normal. If this gets too weird and difficult for us to handle or comprehend, you can handle it.” Green urged as he pointed a finger at me.

“Let me handle it?” I tried to decipher what he was talking about. “What do you mean let me handle it? I’m not a PI you know.”

He looked at me sternly, towering over me. “Meaning, if this is something that defies normal logic and understanding of the universe, off the record, I’m giving you authority to do whatever you need to do with any spooky shit as long as it doesn’t break the law.”

“If you say so, big guy. All I ask is that I get compensated for my time,” I said as I turned around to begin my examination.

I leaned in close and walked around as best I could, feeling out with my magic for any other magical residue that might have been left. Or if magic was even used. I turned my back to the detective as I looked at the body and whispered, “Hey, Puck.”

“Aye, Sir?” Puck chimed, still sitting on my shoulder.

“Do you sense anything wrong with this body?” In addition to being intune with emotions, faeries also have a way to feel dark energies and subtle black magic that humans cannot. Puck slowly hovered over the body examining it. He even stood on the victim and walked up and down the body, finally sitting cross legged on the side of Ghost’s head.

“Are you just about done, Frost?” Green said, impatiently.

“Good paranormal investigation takes some time. I’m sure you understand Detective.” I kept my back to him as I watched Puck, still meditating on Ghost’s head. He was still and serene while he reached out his senses to feel for any magic or anything of the sort around the body.

While Puck meditated, I examined the bite mark a little closer. It definitely looked like human teeth. The bite was deep. It was as if the attacker wanted to rip out Ghost’s trapezius muscle with just their mouth.

“AH HA!” Puck shouted in excitement.

“Find anything?” I asked Puck quietly.

“Not much,” He said, fluttering back up to meet my face. “There is some very faint, very dark magic lingering around the area. It was something pretty nasty. Also, there is a very unique mark on the human’s right hand,” Puck explained. I went to check out the tattoo Puck was talking about. I ever so gently touched the cold hand and saw that it was a very small geometric mandala-like mark in the space between his forefinger and thumb. I had seen the symbol before from my magic teachings my mother gave me in my youth. The marking was a brand, about the size of a dime, and it meant that our victim was a volunteer livestock and a lover to a certain Tribe of vampires.

These vampires are called the Prana Tribe. They live off the life force and energies of other humans. The problem was, these vampires don’t need to bite. They get energy, typically sexual energy as it is the most potent, via sex obviously, as well as using touch. But, they also siphoned other types of energy. Like the energy an excited crowd might give off. Many of these types of vampires make a living as massage therapists, hairdressers to the stars and various entertainment positions where they are the center of attention.

Normally, you wouldn’t notice these vampires on the street. They don’t have any extraordinary features like your typical vampire, who has fangs and are generally pretty gross looking under their human facade . These are actually the exact opposite. Prana Tribe vampires are ridiculously attractive, cunning, can walk out in the daylight and honestly look just like anyone else. The only subtle thing that really gives them away, is that they never have to eat or drink. They can eat if they want, but it’s usually unpleasant as they usually get sick very soon after eating or drinking anything a human would. They only take a small amount of energy and their prey usually just ends up feeling a little tired after being fed upon. I had also never heard of anyone dying from a Prana vampire encounter. Much less anyone having more than a love bite or a handler turning on their lover/prey like this.

Not to sound cliche, but these clues didn’t add up. I whispered to Puck, “We’re done here, follow me.” I walked over to the Detective to tell him the news. Puck returned to my shoulder.

“Well, is this something that’s everyday weird that I can handle, or is this your kind of weird?” he asked.

“This is definitely my kind of weird,” I said looking up at him. “And it just keeps getting weirder by the minute.”

“Great,” sighed Green. “Just what I need. More paperwork.”