- James -

Tom and James sat across from a man wearing a pair of blue jeans and a white t-shirt. He was young, handsome, with the palest skin one could have. His eyes sparkled in the daytime of a sapphire and he walked with swagger that could be confused with arrogance or complete confidence that the universe was moving around them. The man drummed his hands and they all sat in silence.

A waitress came over and dropped two black coffees, to the man and James, while a cappuccino to Tom. As soon as she left Tom spoke up.

“You said you had something on the case we are working on, a tip? or information? Did you know Tyler?”

The man’s eyebrows rose “Who?”

Tom could see James give him a sidelined look.

“The man who had a murder basement in his house, it’s been all over the news.”

“What, no, second rate killer, guy was absolute amateur from what I heard. No, no, I heard you guys are in to that” the man put his hands up and waved them about while doing spooky sounds “you know”

James wiped his mustache and leaned forward “and what if we are? Are you into the whole” James mimicked shower scene from psycho then sat back and shook his head.

“I am.”

“What?” Tom said.

“Yes, I am a serial killer. One of the best.”

James groaned and pulled out a note pad and produced a pen.
“Alright, name?”

“Mick Gendal”

“How long have you been a serial killer?”

“A long time, James” Mick smirked.

“Tom arrest this guy, open and closed” James flipped his notebook closed took a swig of his coffee.

“First, I could be joking, second, where are the bodies, third, I just arrived this morning, no way for me to do in this Tyler fellow. Look, I called you two specifically because” Mick searched around the ceiling and windows for the words, both Tom and James followed his gaze trying to spot what he was looking for. Mick scowled and tapped rapidly on the table “I need your help”

“Pardon me?” Tom said

James face broke out into a grin “You opened up with that and now you asking for help?”

Tom elbowed James “Help with what?”

Mick regained composure after drumming his fingers together. “While I did not know Tyler, I did know others like him. Much better then Tyler. They have all met an early demise. I believe that all these cases are connected. You two, as clunky as you are, have a reputation of getting results. Even in the worse scenarios. We marvel at your” he searched again “stupidity? Towards the situations you get yourselves into and then, somehow out of them.”

“You damn right.” James wagged a finger at Mick.

“You said ‘we’, who exactly is that? and why would you be following us?” Tom said.

Mick smiled. His eyes gleamed and he leaned back into his chair crossing his legs and roping his left arm around the back.

“Look, no matter what you do in life, business, art, sport, whatever. One needs to stack the deck in in their favor. You need to make sure that when you go into the action, that you have the advantage, you can’t lose. You are the house in your life, and the house always wins. Eighty years, that is how long I have been a serial killer.” Mick held up his right palm. On it was red circle, strange symbols and sigals line the inner rim and in the middle was a repeating circle that spiraled into infinity. “When I hunt, I always win. When I am hunted, I always get away or, you know.”

“So the ‘we’ is some sort of Hogwarts for serial killers? Holy Hell” Tom rubbed his forehead with his index finger and thumb “Couldn’t get any worse”

“of course it could, it could of been Hogwarts for demons or something” James waved the waitress over.

Mick snapped his finger and pointed at James “Yes, that is what I need your help with”

“Hogwarts?”

“No, the demon”

Both James and Tom froze. While they both knew, since that day neither of them had spoken about it. Somehow they tried every other supernatural entity that they could think of to explain away the case of Tyler. None of them sufficed. The void, the black door in their minds banged and clamored on its hinges. The memories buried and contained, but now bursting and clawing back into consciousness.

“What do you know about demons” Tom spoke up.

The waitress was approaching and Mick leapt from his chair and leaned in, his face inches away from theres.

“You two are the only ones that anyone knows of that has come across a demon and lived to tell the tale. You are fucking rock stars. I need your help to survive this thing. I need to have victims, I need to have blood. I can’t do that if this thing is hunting us like it is. The risk is to high. Time is ticking” As the waitress arrived Mick was leaving “I will be in touch” waved them goodbye and left.

James looked up at the waitress “Banana muffin, side of Jam, please. Tom? Nothing, alright, that’s it, also the bill when you have a chance.”

Tom sat resting his head on a clutched fist and stared into his memory. What was left was not much.

“How did we survive it James?”

The waitress returned with the muffin. James spread jam over the top and took a large bite.

“Did we?”

–

Tom and James our unlikely duo of paranormal investigators are trying to figure out what might be going on when they receive a call asking to meet. They run into Mick Gendal some one who openly admitted to being a serial killer, and not just admitting, but flaunting. That is when the stacked deck line came to me. Mick embodies this statement to his core, yet there is a bigger house in his world that he is against and as he says ‘The house always wins’.

Our demon is still out there, watch out as you roam the streets.

You can read their beginning story here - What’s in her Eyes

James sat at his desk fiddling around with some spread sheets on his computer. The sun was shining through his windows beckoning him to bask it it’s glory. Outside. But work was work and he had to finish. He flipped a pen in his right hand and in his other hand slapped the arrow keys on his keyboard looking for a number among millions. The pen slipped from his fingers and fell. It rang out against his table and snapped him out of his hypnotic state.

“Okay” James rubbed his face with both hands and stood up “Coffee time” He took the pen that he had dropped, spun it through his fingers and set it straight up on the table. The pen, which was a fountain pen, was flat on the cap side, which allowed it to stand on it’s own. He moved carefully away from the desk to make sure not to disturb it’s balance.

James brewed some coffee, swirled some milk into it and returned to his desk. He set his coffee on a coaster and went to retrieve the pen which he had left standing.

Now, there were two pens standing straight up next to each other. James looked at them both. Did he stack two? He might of, he had three of the same pen sitting on his desk. He grabbed the one he was flipping in his hand earlier and set the other one on it’s side. Maybe he was losing his short term memory. The numbers and charts flowing together and making him lapse his reality. James laughed a bit to himself. Who knew that excel cells might mess with you.

The zone they call it. James was flying through numbers, formulas and bar charts, like it was his divine right.

A knock came at his door. Again he snapped out of his trance. The knocking came again. He took one last look at his computer screen and got up to answer the door. His office was just a round the corner in his house. He looked through the window to see who it was, but no one stood at his door. The knocking came again. He opened the door. The sun greeted him, but that was it. He sighed. The zone, would not come back easily. He closed the door and returned to his office.

As he entered his office he stopped just beyond the door. His desk, the floor, the shelves, any where there was space, pens sat standing up. Hundreds of them. All standing like small pillars raising from a tiny world that lived on the surfaces of modern life. He looked down to his feet and pens stood just beyond his toes. He backed up, he heard his front door open. He jolted to it. His heart pounded as he stood wide eyed peering out into the sunny day. The door was wide open. Again his front entrance was empty. This was to much. He went to leap through the front door, but it slammed shut. Suddenly. All the doors, cabinets, drawers in his house started opening one by one. First his closet shot open, then drawers and cabinets in his kitchen started to spring open. They squealed and creaked as he stood whipping his head back and forth at each sound that assaulted him. He grasped and pulled at his front door, but it would not open. The window he thought. He moved, but all at once, everything that was open, shut in one thunderous clap. James dove to the ground out of panic. The house was silent.

Something started to creak. Somewhere door hinges grinded open. James eyes trailed the hall way, past his office and into his bedroom. A shadow cast across the floor. His closet door was slowly blocking out the light from the window in his room. Then something else blocked the remaining light.

James went to speak, warn or question what ever was happening. He never got the chance.

-

This was inspired by when I came into my room and had two pens sitting next to each other. They were both Twsbi Eco’s, my favorite fountain pen. One was a black cap and the other was a coral color. I remembered distinctly using one of them just a few minutes before and when I sat down, I could not remember having two next to each other. This got me thinking of something like the scenes in poltergiest. The scene where the mom turns around and the chairs are stacked on each other.

I thought that this would be really creepy. The first time, you think you just mis remembered, but then is happens again. You were paying attention the second time and you know something creepy is happening.