Another Side of Brighton Chapter 1

The coarse dissonance of the heavy wax door opening in the submarine prison slammed against the captive's ears,and he shouted a few chosen curses in an archaic tongue as he unwillingly parted from his sleep.

"Let's go,Falkenberg,your trial is today,gotta get you all cleaned up and pretty," the guard, a portly,swarthy man sneered heavily,and he lifted his visor up to smirk sadistically at the captive,a deplorable,restless spirit whose acts were deemed too terrible to even speak of. The prisoner sitting inside was completely covered in pitch from a noble civilian who gallantly flung a boiling bucket of pitch onto him,and with great rancor, he glowered back at the intruder. The guard ignored him,and with repulsion from touching something so abhorrent, yanked him by the arm,slapped him across the face,and dragged him across the floor for a final time. ---

"Cacaw!The attenganger warlock Edgar Falkenberg,age 1,191,I present to you!" announced a lovely young woman with lightly lit violet eyes, pretty,rippling black hair,and a stiff posture that showed a superior education developed over a millenia. Raven Pallas was a dignified Avis, just one type of human who through an undefined breeding,could turn into the bird she drew her name from,and she sat back down."Cacaw!"

On the other side of the courtroom,majestically decorated and grand in size, sat a jury,and the topic of conversation among them concerned the trial that would certainly lead to the rightful condemnation of a dreadful criminal. The doors were finally opened and someone was shoved in, a few elderly ladies of tender hearts fainting from the surely ghastly sight,though there was no horror to speak of,much less swoon over. Most had expected a man as deformed and hideous as the deeds committed with his hands,but when all the pitch had been roughly scrubbed away, a figure who deviated greatly from such expectations was revealed.

Tall and gaunt,Falkenberg was a disheveled,though pretty boy in dark,rumpled clothing, with cold grey eyes,well defined Nordic features,long black hair, and pale skin.Quietly haughty, he was a melanchoholic,stoic,intelligent young man of a past shadowy and cold as the Norwegian hinterlands he came from. He stared apathetically at the floor,almost indifferent to the world as he was glowered at by the judge,a blunt,large man who appeared so angered by everything,that by no reconciliation from it he would ever smile,and was pushed forward by the gremlin bailiffs,small creatures of the underbrush with pointed ears, small fangs,and impish grins.

"Really,I used to make way more people faint;I must be losing my touch,"the boy aloud,his voice a deep,soft bass,and a chortle was heard from a woman in the jury.

"Oh this is a crowning moment of glory for us, capturing perhaps the most wicked, the most unstable, and the most dangerous of our known undead to ever be...ungh...not only born,but reanimated,it doesn't even deserve to be considered human,but out of kindness, I shall do so in sentencing this freak. It has been almost a thousand years in the making,our plan,our ultimate answer,or final solution for troublemakers like you,and we have now executed it to deliver justice where it is most needed," the judge announced."Herr Falkenberg,a self proclaimed master of the darkness,your very existence was a mistake from the moment you were conceived,and it is perhaps the most inexcusable crime in our glorious history. It is bad enough that you had seventeen years of life on this world, but when the Reaper came to drag your soul to Hell where you should be rotting, you could not accept it at all,and defied not only death,but nature itself. If that is not enough, you were wrongly given excess power and the respect granted to others much weaker,but far more worthy."

Falkenberg was not sorrowed nor agitated by this,but appeared to be bored, glancing restlessly at the door,then at his watch.

"Look, I really have something to attend to,so if you could perhaps conclude this in the next ten minutes?" he said calmly." You know how it usually is, you dedicate 55 minutes to berating me and boasting about your greatness, and then five minutes to hastily spitting out a sentence and any other legal procedures. Come on, I've been doing this for centuries,I know how you work."

"Silence,you idiotic boy! And just how imbecilic do you deem us to be,sincerely believing that changing one aspect of your hideous appearance could decieve us?"the judge, momentarily at a loss of logic, snapped,looking for another way of verbally attacking the Norwegian,and with a wave of his hand.F alkenberg's long,tangled black hair was now the ashy blonde colour he was born with."Although I must say your appearance was much,MUCH more tolerable when you were covered in boiling pitch;it's a shame all those burns and blisters healed completely,for they suited you well. Now,it's been over a millennia that we have waited in terror,troubled on just how to eliminate you once and for all, as those who do not depart from this life normally cannot be executed through conventional methods. Now, I wanted to keep you in that cell,as it's specialized to sap away your power,temporarilly making you a lot easier to handle, but unfortunately, the Council decided differently."

"That's nice,but-"

" In fact it was that foolish nature lover from Northern Canada, Morten something or other who suggested not only that, but believing that rumours of your evil have been greatly over-exaggerated,offered an alternative sentence where you,at half your power,not only look into some undiscovered Sentinels on the verge of presenting,but train them to fight against the current troublemakers and secure one of the intradimensional barriers."

"Oh believe me,I know all about these invaders, you monster loving hypocrite. I accept the challenge, but not just to avoid being thrown into the Black Sunrise again."

" I was hoping you wouldn't say that, for I wanted to try out a new torture device," the judge sighed." Oh,another thing, you will not be working alone on this,though, on no,no more of the isolation you love so dearly. For this I have assigned Miss Octavia Tarantella Tessitore to be your guardian."

"Hvad?!"

"It's been a while,Zombie Boy,"the chortling woman from earlier smirked.Barely older than him, Octavia was a tall,corpulent,yet handsome girl of regal blood, with olive skin,wavy,dark hair,and topaz eyes, dressed in a fringe trimmed brown vest, obnoxiously patterned tunic,and flared slacks. Proud and noble in spirit, she was the daughter of a well bred, wealthy Sicilian merchant, and perished gently in her sleep. Blessed with the strength of ten men and the talent of industrious spiders, she could craft webs of silk with her meaty fingers, poison a foe to death with an acerbic humor, brawl with her bare hands, and change form into a little weaving spider to scuttle about. Graceful and elegant in a mannish way, she was nonetheless imperfect. Brazen and headstrong,she was often spitting harsh curses with an obscene vernacular that would make a sailor blush in shame and raging with a frightening anger. Very few would foolishly dare to lay hands on her, for she could easily shatter the necks of her aggressors with a single hand.To the judge, she implored."When do we start and where are we going?"

" You'll be in the city of Brighton,Michigan,where the Great Divide has deteriorated so much,there's an influx of preternatural activity that aggregates around the Mortis House. Your job is to find the Scouts we've detected in the vicinity, train them,and repair the barrier. Oh,and try not to get expelled from high school,either..."

----

"So this is the Mortis House of myth?"Octavia mused,munching on a biscuit from a small bag."We'll be setting up shop in there,huh?"

After a few more words of instruction to Octavia and derision to Falkenberg the trial was eventually dismissed,and the two had traveled to the Industrial Heartland of America just a few days later,settling in a pleasant city known as Brighton,where the border between the world of magick and the world of the mundane had collapsed. Once there, they had been enrolled in the local high school,Octavia as a senior with rather simple courses,and Falkenberg as a junior with a much more rigorous schedule that included band of all things.It was at registration that the blonde noticed how the two of them, a bit more exotic looking than the plain faced Midwesterners around them, easily stood out and earned plenty of looks from their peers to be,and he made a mental note to try and conform best he could to whatever was deemed normal.Next,they were told to locate The House of the Mortis Family,with nobody to claim it but the name of the clan that once walked through it’s halls, and it had only taken a bit of asking to find the decrepit mansion of old.

" The Mortis House of Brighton,Michigan said to be a homing beacon of sorts for preternatural activity,"Falkenberg said,adjusting the straps of his rucksack and flipping through one of the bunches of brochures he had picked up." Interestingly enough,this house was built when the city was little more than a settlement, and on the outskirts of it as well,surrounded by dense wilderness and distant from any real hubs of commerce at the time,such as what is now Detroit. What's even more intriguing is the lack of information available pertaining to this sinister abode, whether Mundane or Magick; even the archives only turned up two or three articles about the house's construction and the unfortunate death of young Viktor, and outside of some anecdotes of questionable legitimacy, there have been reports of dark creatures,possibly demons,lurking around in the 1800s, but again,the ,an who reported the events was a drunkard who owned the local brewery,no records of supernatural phenomenon at all. Either way, I can detect an unnatural presence;there's something lurking within the bowels of this manor that should not be unearthed."

"You know, I have that feeling too, but I think it's just last night's gelato .Only one way to find out just what's in store for us,then,"Octavia decided almost cheerily,finishing the last of her biscuits and tucking it into her jacket pocket to discard later,then pushing the door open."Coming?"

Inside, all was dark and dank as the sharp crack of a match split the silent,somber air. A little kerosene lantern sent the small shadows into a rapid retreat,which he held over his head,shivering at the heavy,wet odor of it, as he and Octavia looked around the foyer. The sweepingly grand room was laden with plump blankets of dust, with a staircase torn in two leading to another floor,and under that, a metal door-”could it be real brass?” he thought, with pure copper handles,and a feast of bludgeoned insects whose backs gleamed green all over the room He could sense the ghosts pressing up against his skin, yet no fear came to mind as he inhaled the musky scent of myrrh and spice in the bear pelt on the floor .

"Gee, look at all that dust. I would sure hate to have to clean this,"Octavia joked as she emptied batteries into her torch and turned it on.

"Hold up, "Falkenberg demanded, removing a small case from his and placing a pair of thick spectacles on his face, clicking the bridge three times." Interplanar spectacles,able to reveal objects concealed on different planes. Most Mundanes can detect beings on the first plane, while those capable of Magick can usually perceive things on the second,sometimes the third and rarely,the fourth and fifth planes, where some of the strongest magick occurs,and only some of the most powerful Sentinels have any hopes of viewing it with the naked eye.They also correct vision problems,such as my myopia, and also have infrared, ultraviolet,x ray,and night vision modes."

" Where can I buy one of those?"

" Can't, I made them," he replied, pressing the bridge another two times."Jøssnavn!! Somebody has used a VERY powerful concealment glamour on this house,see?!"

"Not really, you have the glasses."

"Well,those stairs leading to a balcony of sorts,for starters. That's all illusion,you would fall flat on your face if you tried to ascend them. In place of it are two rolling ladders,the kind found in libraries...how curious..."

"Should be easy enough for me, all I have to do is spin a web in spider form,"she quipped.

"And all those windows, you can see them from the outside,but they're totally fake! They're just sheets of glass with walls made of some sort of impenetrable material behind them." he crowed, knocking on a surgace of solid,thick rock that was indeed,unbreakable,whether by blade,blast,or battering ram." Now why have a window and cover it up? Do you intend to keep the sunlight and people out,or perhaps prevent onlookers from witnessing something within or..."

He squawked as he saw the Italian ignoring him completely,instead enraptured by thousands of little spiders with sleek black fur,curiously dull fangs,and eight pirple eyes,each scuttling by her feet,and he smacked his forehead with his palm."Idiot..."

"Alright! My kind of people! I could get used to this!"

"Lovely," her high strung companion crowed as the wretched creatures crawled up the walls to a cobweb dusted with plump dead flies."It's you,you're attracting them!"

"Oh,does that bother you,Falkenberg? I can't help it if I'm simply more magnetic than you. Know what your problem is? You're always such a grump! If you were to just lighten up a bit..."

She glaned up to see that the attenganger had moved on through the brass doors into a hall of shadows and down a staircase(this one real,thankfully) to a lower floor,and she scurried after him. The two walked down the corridor in a comfortable silence before she let out a moan.

"Oi,Falkenberg, I need some light! Something got me!"

He rolled his eyes, yet complied and helf his lantern aloft. In the orange glow she looked down at her generous chest, seeing her skin and flesh broken by a steel blade,and she grew as pallid as a youth of Italian blood could as the wisps of scarlet curling down her trunk."Dio Bono..."

"Interesting. This house hasn't been inhabited by anything living as far as we know since 1900,but this rapier is made of stainless steel, which came about a few years later," he said thoughtfully as he wrapped his bony fingers around the hilt and yanked it out, the hum of gurgling blood within the wound drowned out by her hissing, and he then looked around,lifting his lantern curiously.

The sable walls bruised grew with time were removed of all dust,unchafed and whole,but when Octavia touched a sconce overhead,blades of a motley sort, the obtuse and sharpened,the thin and dull,knives and swords of the strongest forging were thrust upon them.She yelped, trembling as she erected a silken barrier around her as Falkenberg did likewise with shadow,but a colossal ax head still wedged itself on her shoulder. She shrieked,but by Providence's hand, was only struck by the blunt edge,and it fell off with great ease, leaving her skin mottled with bruises floating up below a patch of wildly pulsing blood.

" A halberd! I made one just like this out of Plutonian Bismuth centuries ago! Falkenberg said appreciatively, picking up said weapon and giving it a few thrusts." Why all these weapons and booby traps if nobody,whether Mundane,Sentinel,or Immortal(or well,Undead for that matter) has set foot in here for decades? Nothing taking up residence here has no need for a physical weapon,magick is usually sufficient,unless it's some sort of-"

"DUCK!!!!!!" the Italian squealed,once more glancing upwards. As the ceiling burst asunder, the sweeping slab of iron descended rapidly,almost having it's progress arrested by burying itself in her ample flesh had she not leapt away with a movement so supple,it was difficult imagining a woman of her girth executing such a manoeuvre.

"A-A!!"

"A guillotine blade, perhaps most famously,or infamously,used to behead queen Marie Antoinette,among others,during the French Revolution," the blonde chirped, examining the pendulum above with interest before grimacing,for by accident or ill fortune,and odd aroma most offensive especially to the acute olfactory senses of the the sentient undead."Jøssnavn! What a stench!"

"Wasn't me," Octavia admitted as she too gagged at the air fouled by an unknown censer,and before them,in the middle of the wooden floor,lay a wide pit with a great mighty stench,overflowing with a dark,reeking,claggy humour.

"We definitely aren't alone," he determined,dipping his fingers into the steaming,rancid pit,and withdrawing them quickly.

"Oh?"

"This is a type of petroleum that's banned in 28 dimensions and strictly regulated in others,including Earth,for it's flammability,toxicity to humans, and detrimental effects on the environment,about ten times as worse for the atmosphere than leaded petrol,which was outlawed in America in the last century. Anyhow,while not boiling,or even scalding, this substance is still fairly tepid, indicating someone,possibly something was here to heat it up," he replied before suddenly losing his balance,spinning around, falling forwards,and pitching headfirst into the pit with a squawk.

"Merda! Falkenberg!" Octavia cried. plunging her hand into the stinking pit,and pulling the sputtering blonde up by the forearm.

"That just confirms it! I didn't fall on accident! I felt something push me!" he cawed, and spat out some of the fetid sludge." Definitely haunted, you and me could both sense it, but why haven't any the ghosts shown themselves yet? They went to all this trouble to deter anyone from going too far into the house,wouldn't they come out and scare any intruders right when they're at their peak of terror for maximum effect, or at least take credit for their handiwork? I also have a feeling that we aren't welcome here,and whoever's been setting these traps is only getting started..." he spat before coughing once more and wiping some gunk from his eyes,standing upright with as much dignity as possible."Come Hell or high water though, I will get to the bottom of it!"

"Not without me you won't,ya birdbrain, Like it or not,Zombie Boy, we're a team and we have to work together!" she huffed, jogging to keep up with the taller boy's longer strides.

---

While Octavia never meant to step on the sensitive,single hair, she did, and a sound no average mortal could bear,a shrill,shivering blast so potent, not even a desolate wail could overcome it in timbre, surely alerted their unwelcome presence to the phantasms of the house.

"Merda! what did I do?!" she asked to nobody in particular as the walls sprung open,discharging rows of tattered iron spikes that began to close in on them with an ominous creaking.

"Merda!!!"

"Iron Maiden,also an excellent classic metal band," Falkenberg chirped as the two dashed to the end of the constricting hall,and by benevolent fortune, around no flesh did the walls clench shut. They couldn't slow down,however, as the floor in front of them unhinged itself ,yet both simply leapt over it and collapsed at last.. The burly Italian then sighed as three phantoms of questionable intent hovered about,bedight in loathsome shadow.

"Oho! What do we have here?!" the first cooed,waving a pair of daggers excitedly. The only female of the trio,she was a buxom little minx with indecently revealing clothes and short,pink hair." Is there a dreamy boy for Julchen Müller?"

"Nah, looks like one big fat ugly broad and a tall,scrawny ugly dyke, but I can't tell. Either way, they're probably both pretty brave or stupid to be walking aroung this joint," the second, a young man of about nineteen with azure hair answered, a weighty,blood smeared axe in his hand that no normal man could ever lift." Either way, they should be fun for me, Wilhelm Müller to crush! I've gone so long without the feel of blood on my hands, I'm going through withdrawal and it's Hell! Wait! I'm a phantom,so it passes through me anyhow!"

"So...any idea on who these dudes are, Falkenberg?"

" My dear lady, we are poltergeists! Restless, havoc-wreaking spirits who cause mayhem and mischief fo the living!" the third, a bespectacled boy with green hair explained politely with a gentle smile, though his hands were raised attentively and alight with a verdant flame." I am Martin Renaud, formerly of the Army of the Northwest, though you may call me Schweinjaten,and this is my brother Schierling and out sister Hasel Verhassgeist. You don't know how sorry we are,but we cannot permit intruders like you to progress any further. If you leave immediately, I'll try to restrain my more… bellicose siblings from resorting to brute force; you seem like truly nice,reasonable young people. Please?"

"Poltergeists,eh?"

"Indeed! However, we see no fun in tormenting people into insanity,possibly even suicide, nor do we terrorize the living...besides, the master of our house is a LOT scarier than us...Oh no,no,no, we haunt the surrounding houses,"laughed Schierling."You could say we look for treasure."

"Though keep in mind, no gold,no rare jewels, no other priceless riches catch our eyes.Nein,we seek something that's far, FAR more valuable:Toilet paper!" Hasel exclaimed.

"Though it is still thievery and wrong,"Schweinjaten said quietly,rubbing his arm and looking down." Stealing is a sin,did you ever hear the Ten Commandments? Number eight: Though shall not steal. There is a difference between mischievous fun that hurts nobody and the acts you two have done, depriving innocent people of their property."

"Yeah, there was this one guy who was nuking away, just stewin' in his own brew,and we nicked all his rolls!" Schierling recalled happily."As we're making off with our stash, we hear him yell'Oi,Angie!!! Where's the effing toilet paper?! I'm marooned and I need to drop some kids off at the pool!!!" then something about corn cobs."

Falkenberg and Octavia stared at each other before she began laughing and he rolled his eyes.

" You dare mock us!? Suffer our wrath!" Schierling roared, and launched himself at them,yet discharged no blood as he slid through both of them.

"Are you truly so abyssmally stupid that you cannot percieve that we are flesh and blood,unaffected by mere vapours? Knock it off right now, that's an order, idiot poltergeist," Falkenberg spat calmly, yet bitterly, and surprisingly, the noisy spirit seemed to desist.

"I won't take orders from some dyke who sounds like she probably took too much street testosterone," Schierling spat with unhappy obedience,crossing his arms childlishly." I only submit to the master of this house,and he could fry you in ten seconds. Hell,you're already drenched in oil,so he'd only need five seconds to polish you off!"

"Hey wait, I recognize you! Octavia Tessitore! You're an immortal!" Hasel screeched.

"It is an honour for a Sentinel of such high calibre to grace our household with your presence, and I don't mean to be rude, but you really mustn't stay,"Schweinjaten,the only one of them who seemed to possess any semblance of intelligence said, his expression concerned." Really, it would take forever for Miss Baker to get the bloodstains out of the floorboards again, and really, there's no conventional means of eliminating you."

"Alright, we're leaving then.Har det!!" Falkenberg announced.

"Che palle! Are you insane?! Wait, don't answer that!" Do you really want to spend more time on that godforsaken prison?! You do know what would happen to a man as pretty as you in there,right?" Octavia chittered, though she didn't see him reach into his leather jacket for something until he withdrew it. The tall blond shot a ball the size of a walnut at the ludicrous trio, within it room enough for a vast cloud of rotten smoke,and he set Octavia, now a fuzzy spider who could fit into his palm, onto his shoulder and ran.

"Dummy! A smokescreen won't work on us,we're gas already!" Hasel taunted as she swayed alot, aiming her daggers at them. Falkenberg produced another ball from his jacket and let it burst on the floor,tiny,tangy beads of spice tumbling everywhere. The three cried out in a foreign tongue before choosing a more familiar language.

"S-SALT!!!NOOOOO!!"they wailed,trapped as their prey fled.

"So what...what was that all about back there? How'd you get them to listen to you?"Octavia asked after they had gone some distance.

"Oh they have to listen to me whether they like it or not. The undead, you see, have been organized in a hierarchy, with those with a corporeal form and sentience at the top,or in a nutshell,whoever can pass as the most lifelike or normal,at the very top. At the bottom are those without a solid body,yet those with intellect who have retained their memories and are independent, or not under the control of someone with power over the undead, are ranked a bit higher than your run of the mill spook. Each group though,must defer to the authority of the superior class,and as a restless,reanimated,intelligent spirit with a body who came back from the dead by his own will, I am at the very top,"he explained,looking around the foyer."There's still something sinister and undead here that isn't me,though, and I want to find out what it is..."

"Well,have fun with that,I'm probably gonna get my laptop set up, maybe get on a dating site. I met my last boyfriend on the web during mating season,and boy, was he tasty,"Octavia,suitcase in hand,said, striding towards a ladder leading to,according to the map in one of Falkenberg's books, the living quarters of the past inhabitants."Don't forget school three weeks from Tuesday!"

"And I have to also make this manor habitable somehow. I grew up in much worse, but this still needs improvement if we're going to use it as a base," he muttered,scribbling into a notebook." There's likely an enormous supply of cheap labour in the form of ghosts,once they start to manifest,and with the right spell,they can become almost lifelike and solid, and I need cement, wood,varnish,and nails to put in a set of stairs to the second floor,maybe some carpet to go along with it. Not to mention,the roof could really use some fresh tar and shingles, we need plenty of dust rags and cleaning solution,there's likely vermin all over,so we require poison and traps, any electrical wiring was done at the turn of the last century and is horridly outdated, it needs fresh paint and wallpaper, the floors need to be redone, and I seriously doubt there's indoor plumbing,and even if there is,the pipes likely contain lead.Now if we combine our funds,we have roughly the equivalent of one year's earnings of an unskilled worker who labours eight hours a day, 5 days a week,for 52 weeks a year,so both of us will need to seek employment;there's plenty of businesses around town that will hire anybody sixteen or older..."

Octavia paid him no attention,her broad back turned to him as she attended to something in the corner. "Why do I even bother talking? Nobody even hears me. Maybe I should just remove my vocal cords or go completely mute," he sighed before seeing the hundreds of spiders with magically glossy raven fur clamoring about her,eyes glinting with an unearthly rubicund light stretch far and tall to the ceiling.

"Come on Falkenberg ,don't be such a drama queen! You're driving me up the wall! Remember,we have to work together whether you like it or not,so here,let me give you a hand...or eight..."

---

Meanwhile,the three poltergeists hovered apprehensively in their favourite corner of the first floor halls, dank, dark, and nicely encrusted in dust and gooey cobwebs.

"Well, brother dear,we did try to warn them,"Schweinjaten declared sheepishly, polishing his spectacles,and Hasel idly tossed her daggers up and down.For once, Shierling looked frightened, unable to lift his axe proudly,and when the smell of fresh ozone wafted through the corridor, the three knew it was time to retreat. Thunder seemed to roll in from nowhere, and lightning surged through the dead air as the three saw the shadow swathed figure they served...

" I suppose they'll have to face first hand the wrath of the Thunderous One..."

---

"Holy...did you hear that, Falkenberg? That noise? Sounded like thunder almost," Octavia said as rumbling in the young evening startled her from her computer where she was perusing content of no value,and him from a weighty tome he discovered on one of the shelves in the parlor and now took interest in. It was an hour later when they had recuperated,she tending to all the injuries she had sustained,he taking a much needed bath in the rain barrel,and after picking out their living quarters,met back to a room they had designated as a gathering area.

" Eh, probably just a large vehicle going by or something," he replied, nothing in the world able to avert his eyes from the page he was browsing.

" No,I know what I heard and that was definitely NOT a gravel truck! Someone could be in this house and-oh no..."she gasped."You think those poltergeists -they were talking about their master! Do you think he might try something on us?

"Well if that's the case, it shall be an intense battle. The only presence I'm detecting that could be strong enough is that of the undead;the electromagnetic field detector's been pinging like crazy, indicating a powerful being,possibly a level 4 or 5! Now, your average reanimated spirit wouldn't dare challenge someone of our calibre, but even still..."

"Then there's only one way to find out if they will or not! " she replied, soft,sticky silk inbetween her chubby fingertips as she dashed towards the entrance. <

"Moron,have you ever tangled with the undead before? Spirits can be fought and captured, but not in the way you expect," Falkenberg said as he followed, and he reached for his jacket and pulled out a beeping device covered in flickering dials and knobs. " A higher than average quantity of positive ions in the air, electromagnetic disturbances, and the temperature has decreased significantly...We indeed have a liche among our midst, and a rather violent one that can switch between corporeal and noncorporeal forms" "What's that mean? What's a litch?"

"Liches are a type of undead,dark sorcerer who desired immortality,usually by concealing their souls and humanity to a phylactery, and typically can control some of the more mindless hoards of the dead.They're also prone to incredibly destructive behaviour, and can be particularly hostile towards humans..."Falkenberg explained,looking a bit too interested at the prospect of encountering a sorcerer who had achieved a sort of immortality in a twisted fashion.

"Great, what did we ever do to get Lord Voldemort in the house?"

---

Past a musty old parlour redolent of mothballs,with plent of dead,fuzzy moths littering the carpet,the cold bedchambers of the long lost patriarch of the Mortis clan, Octavia hurled door after door open in a frenzy and Falkenberg followed calmly behind,studying one of his instruments to hone in on whatever malevolent spirit awaited them.

"Mannaggia! Nothing!Are you sure that thing is working?"

"Any piece of equipment is only as good as the person who made it, "he replied cryptically. "And you 'll find that I'm a highly competent craftsman."

"Whatevs, "she replied nonchalantly, flipping her wavy black hair over her broad shoulder and continued on.She did notice, however that the still air seemed oddly humid for early September, the atmosphere inside the old house disturbed as if one of the summer thunderstorms rattling the region was swirling above.The fuzzy down on her arms(she was a rather hirsute woman, after all),was prickling in the humming air,with Falkenberg's bangs comically standing on end, an ethereal blue glow pulsating around his spectacles. "What the…"

"Interesting, "he said cooly."This is the phenomenon known as St.Elmo's Fire, similar to lightning...

"Lightning? "

"Ja, her er den lyn,men hvor er den torden?"

"Huh?

"I said 'Here is the lightning, but where is the -'"

The house was then quaked by a rumble that sounded like two great clay slabs were slammed dight in a maelstrom of flaming bright light clustered about it, there was the emaciated form of a man whose only distinct features were hazy waves of blood spilling from fluttering wounds all over his black clothing,and not even the deftest gesticulation of the two could escape his watch. Around them, the rest of the room was the dusky hue of thick, dark coal buried deep in a mine shaft,shadows swirling about intensely.

"-thunder.Impressive, "Falkenberg stated dully."It seems we have found our rather elusive foe."

" I AM RANDOLPH BALDOMAR BLITZSTRAHL, THE THUNDEROUS ONE, HE WHO SETS THE HEAVENS ATREMBLE WITH FEAR, CONDEMNING ALL FOOLISH ENOUGH TO DARE TREAD THROUGH THIS MAGNIFICENT LAIR TO A SHOCKING DEATH!!!!! ON YOUR KNEES, LOWLY TRESSPASSERS, AND QUIVER IN FEAR AS THE WRATH OF A THOUSAND LIGHTNING BOLTS IMPALES YOU RIGHT THROUGH THE HEART!!!! "

"...You want some cheese with that ham? "Octavia snarked.

"SILENCE, FOOLISH FEMALE!!!" and for her sass,she was smote with a bolt of crackling blue lightning that rattled her sturdy frame and illuminated her bones in a way that would've been laughable if not for the blazing pain and her agonized shrieks.With that, the liche fled, zapping his way through the brick and mortar, the brazen Italian collapsing helplessly to the ground.

Falkenberg rolled his eyes and ran a hand through his hair, muttering some sort of incantation that made his grey eyes flash blue as the winter sky. In his left hand was a halberd forged from black Plutonian bismuth as long as a man, and in his right was a glass vase in whose delicate flesh arcane,opulent indigo runes were etched, a simple blue candle placed in it's core,the sweetly perfumed smoke falling in a warm haze around them. Octavia still trembled woozily as she stood, and eyed his new possessions.

"Wait,what is that thing?" she hissed.

" It's a Spirit Trap,and it works by luring monsters in with the energy emitted by the burning candle before trapping them. They come in different sizes and strengths,as indicated by the protective runes on the side, and they shrink down to about the size of a medicine bottle. A friend of mine made them,but nobody paid much mind to his accomplishment,sadly. A spirit as strong as this needs to be weakened first,and when it's finally had enough, I just open the lid and it'll be attracted to the jar only to be sealed in it until someone lets them out..."

"You're gonna need to catch..." Octavia then processed just how illogical her statement was." Never mind;he's on the move! C'mon! "

The two of them hurried down the hall, the tingling scent of ozone and raw electricity suffused throughout,when suddenly, one of Falkenberg's meters emanated a noise akin to a shriek, and he yanked the device from his pocket,where wisps of smoke were furling out of the edges, the metal almost red with heat."Faen!"

"HA!!! IMBECILES!!! YOU DARE CHALLENGE ME, KEEPER OF THIS HOUSE?!!!"

Someone who cared very little for the overdone theatrics similar to the performance of an inexperienced actor in a dull play,indeed dared to battle the liche, and that someone happened to be a cerebrally inclined warlock with long blonde hair. He raised his halberd and around the tip curled deep sable energy dark as a starless night over the hinterlands, and he ran this through his foe.The sorcerer doubled over, warm, sticky blood splashing from his pierced midriff, clumping black and claggy as tar as it oozed down his body, and he let out an almighty screech.

"BLAST YOU,CURSED WARLOCK,OR BETTER YET, TRY THIS!!!!" and blast the liche did, with a ball of silver lightning whose crackling was like thart of flesh fried in oil aimed at Falkenberg. This deflected off of the tip of the Norwegian 's halberd, and smaller bursts of searing white electricity bounced everywhere,harmlessly splitting the lightning with thunderclap after bone shaking thunderclap.Furiously, the liche 's outstretched palm was suffused with a glimmering light, but Octavia twitched her fingers and shot five strands of silk deceptively strong in it's delicate weave,and he was bound like a hog.

"Careful, Mr.Liche, or I 'll be having you for supper for the next week, you tasty, tasty thing.Though,it's too bad it isn't the Fourth of July, you could've put on a real good show for us," Octavia chattered.



"Excellent! He's immobilized! "Falkenberg chirped, reciting another spell that didn't change his eye colour for an immeasurably brief interval, but rather, opened the vase,gleaming holy and brilliant, and this light began to tug at the liche.

NEIN,NEIIIN!!!!!!!" he cried out along with other unintelligible curses in a guttural Teutonic tongue,and as water gyrating into a vortex in a vicious mælstrøm in the North Sea, so did he swirl violently down into the jar, his corporeal form becoming a wispy vapor that became blazing white energy before he was tugged completely into the trap. All was still save for Octavia's huffing, and Falkenberg began to trace some sort of summoner's circle with archaic symbols in deep blue ink around the shuddering vase. The Italian considered herself to be fairly intelligent and well educated about the Magick Realm, especially for a woman born when she was, but she felt like a dunce compared to the Norwegian,who was far more experienced with malevolent fiends and the aspects of their arcane craft that were generally ignored. She realized then that most Sentinels,even the erudite immortals,sadly,rarely concerned themselves with the more shadowy components of Magick, dismissing it obtusely as something unimportant that was below their attention,content to live in comfortable ignorance that it would never matter to them. With this in mind, she vowed to not be as dimwitted and myopic as her contemporaries,and to try and learn as much as she could about all sorts of Magick as the blonde's eyes went bright blue again,and the vase ceased to tremble.

"Alright, that should do it,a simple containment spell;he can't escape this circle without suffering acute pain unless one of us does the counter spell to release him."

" And when are you going to do that?"

"When he's tamed. You might want to stay back for the interrogation,though, the undead tend to harbour umbridge against immortals, and he may try to attack,"Falkenberg said, whispering an incantation and crossing himself, then raising his hands. Like a sinewy snake unfurling itself from a woven basket in the bazaars of a Muhammedan nation at the song of a piper, the liche coiled out of the vase the same way he had been pulled into it, though he was trapped in the cobalt circuit.

"Dio Bono! Il ragazzo!!Octavia gasped.

He had reverted back to his mortal form, terrified as he cowered before Falkenberg and Octavia,the latter more than a bit surprised to see just what he had looked like as a human. He was younger than both of them, maybe fifteen, with oblong spectacles,fair skin barely blemished by acne, bright blue eyes, white blonde hair that stood straight up as if a surge of power was shocking through it, and sharp Germanic features;a handsome boy who would have grown into an even better looking young man if he hadn't hidden his soul away in an enchanted vessel.

"Liche!"the Norwegian addressed him stiffly, and that was all he said,for the aforementioned sinister sorcerer had other plans in mind.

"Woob WOOB woob woob woob woob woob!!!" he yelped, leaping up and scurrying away in a cowardly,yet humourous manner, and Octavia was horrified to see that there was an invisible barrier around the circle that had sliced into his flesh in his flight. Yes, he may have been a dastardly reanimated spirit who likely had the blood of millions on his hands, but he was still a mere boy who was undeserving of such wounds!

"Oh no you don't!" Falkenberg,who seemed incapable of raising his voice, crowed, and tackled the wailing liche to the floor.He murmured another spell that held the white haired boy upright with some sort of invisible binds, and approached him cooly hands clasped behind his back."Liche!I am your superior! Tell me,what is your purpose!"

"AUGH!!! BITTE!!! DON'T HURT ME!!! I'M SORRY!!!I'M SORRY!!!"the liche was bawling, hands tight as if praying,and in all honesty,was as pathetic looking as a shrivelled up slug drenched in salt. Octavia,for once, did not speak, only gaped at him,unsure of what to do.

"Liche! We do not mean you any harm, we only seek to interrogate you for information regarding this house and the role you play in it! You will not receive any injury from either of us, and it is therefore, illogical to continue in such an emotional manner! Now calm down and please answer this question:Who are you and what is your purpose in this household?"

" Well,we already know who he is," Octavia chattered."Pretty impressive display,Randolph, I'm quite flattered I got to witness it."

"Please, you can just call me Dolph, or Randy, either or is fine," the boy said, looking a bit ashamed at his theatrical acts earlier." I didn't really realize it at first that you were an undead and an immortal, and I didn't really mean to hurt you, but with every mortal in the county poking around here when it's too dangerous,someone has to be keeping watch and scaring them away so they don't hurt themselves. Usually the living don't make it past the foyer, and the few who do tend to run screaming once they trigger a trap,and those who do usually get frightened away by the poltergeists. Really, they're not that terrible,they're a bit rough around the edges, but pretty nice once you get to know them."

Falkenberg was writing in one of his notebooks,nibbling on the tip of his pen,seemingly satisfied so far at the liche's answer.

"And just how did you become a liche and the self proclaimed guard of this house?"

At this the fair skinned German blanched, creamy skin turning even whiter,then red as a berry." Well, you see, it was decades ago in Germany,when the world was engulfed in one of the worst wars ever fought..."

To be continued...

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