Hellblazer: Lost Innocence

Hellblazer: Lost Innocence

Chapter 1

Some mornings things are clear, the smell of greasy over cooked eggs, undercooked pancakes, and just slightly burned bacon could almost be registered as heavenly. True, these days were far and few between. Especially for someone that dealt with the kind of darkness that most people believed only existed in Stephen King novels. Unfortunately there wasn’t an Other dimensional being taking the shape of a clown. If that was the true issue then life would be far simpler. Instead the world was full of demons, vampires, werewolves, and all sorts of beasties which typically hid in the shadows and killed just enough to stay under the radar.

But today it was as if all of them had taken a vacation, and for the first time, in at least a year, he was able to breathe, and enjoy a mediocre breakfast at an IHOP knockoff. His yellow trench coat hung loosely on his arms as he used his fork to cut through the under cooked pancakes. He dipped the over elastic morsel into a glob of syrup and then plopped it into his mouth. It was delicious, breathtakingly so, or at least it seemed that way. He finished the pancakes, turned to the eggs, and began eating them.

In truth he preferred over easy. The yolk running out was one of the nicer parts of eating fried eggs, but since these had been overcooked the yolks had become hard. It was a slight disappointment, but his taste buds told him that the taste was the same. He finished the eggs, and then bit into the first of the four strips of bacon. It was hard as iron, sharp as the chef's finest knife, and somehow the tastiest thing on the plate. Of course he knew that what he was tasting wasn’t the real taste of the bacon, eggs, or pancakes. Instead it was a simple glimmer cast on the food to fool his mouth into enjoying it.

In a couple of hours he would deal with the unfortunate side effects, but that was his future self’s problem. He finished the bacon, and finally, he turned toward the coffee. Unlike the food there was no need for a glimmer on it. The coffee here was actually fairly good. He could taste the freshness of the pot, how the grounds were obviously freshly ground this morning, and it wasn’t any freeze dried shite. He drained his cup, caught a waitress, and asked for a second. She walked toward the kitchen, and came back with the pot. After getting his second cup he finally looked at the paper.

One thing he had learned through trial and error was that anything reported on that fell into darkness he dealt with typically didn’t make it into the major papers. The Daily Planet didn’t really report on anything dealing with the supernatural. No, they didn’t, but The Seer did. Most of the population believed the Seer to be nothing more than a tabloid. Something people bought and laughed at. Sightings of ghosts, villages reappearing after being gone for a hundred years, and of course ancient Lovecraftian gods raised from the very pits of hell and set upon some small island nation.

Most people blew the tabloids off, but he didn’t. Because the tabloids were normally right. Typically they covered the events that no one else would, and he would of course compare what they wrote about with any scrying he would do. He picked the paper up, opened it, and suddenly he felt the breakfast he had just eaten talking back at him. There, the words in black and white, was the realization that he had celebrated having a day off too early.

‘Sixth Disappearance in Cayuga Springs Oklahoma: Work of a Cult?’

Silently he closed his eyes, and mentally he tried to remind the Almighty that surely he owed him one by now, and that if at all possible just let this be a terrible set of consequences happening in Oklahoma. He opened his eyes and looked at the story itself.

“Disappearances themselves aren’t uncommon, and so it might seem odd that a disappearance would make its way into a story outside of a local newspaper, certainly not a national one, but it’s less about the disappearance itself, but more about the odd behavior of those interviewed.”

It was looking more and more like this wasn’t going to be a day of relaxing. Granted, he could go ahead, relax, and do nothing, but that would mean allowing whatever it was to keep a toe hold in the world, and he didn’t want to let the balances shift like that. He took a drink of the coffee, and looked at the paper again.

“I interviewed several people of interest, and found that all of them believed the people missing weren’t missing at all. The chief of police herself informed me that no paperwork had been filed, no one had called to report a missing person, yet the family of the individual insisted that they had not only filed the report with the police, but they had taken to the streets asking about the whereabouts of their son.

Looking into the story further I found that this had happened five more times in the last month. Individuals had gone missing, reports filed, and then nothing. It was simply as if the person wasn’t missing at all. Most of the small town of Cayuga Springs seemed the same way. Almost all of them knew of the individuals that had gone missing, but all swore that they weren’t. Businesses that had hired four of the six stated that they had been to work everyday. However, when I attempted to search for them at the job sights I found no trace at all.

Everyone I asked had the same story, and that seemed far too strange. Everyone had the same story. Everyone was saying the same thing. Each one of the individuals I interviewed gave me the same response as the Chief of Police. For now, the disappearances are a mystery, but they are one that I plan on following until I find the answer.”

He looked at the story again, and he wanted to put it down, go home, and simply not deal with it. That was what he wanted, but he couldn’t and he knew it. Instead he reached down beside him and opened the bag he had brought in with him. Chas had updated his carrying bag to a book bag. He explained that since most people were using them to carry their belongings in that it only made sense. And of course it received far less notice than the old turn of the century bag he had carried for years. Unfortunately he had to place new wards on it, but ultimately it was worth it.

He dug for a moment, found an old road atlas of Oklahoma, and then he pricked the end of his finger. Closing his eyes he held the blood away from town mentioned.

“Audi me, et ostendam tibi quid mihi quaerere. Collaudentur veterrimi Collaudentur, supplex peto terebrare imaginationis umbracula, in aethere accipimus, et ignotum videre.”

He opened his eyes to see the drop of blood fall to the atlas, and then it rolled, never leaving a mark, until it touched Cayuga Springs. At which time it split not into six, but well over a hundred tiny dots. He noticed that the dots were spreading, surrounding the entire town, and slowly moving out. He handed the waitress the twenty he had found just outside of the restaurant, and then collected his change, left her a tip, and walked outside. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a charge and burn phone.

“Chas, it’s John, how do you feel about a road trip?”

Taking a jet would have been faster, but his luck, and the suggestion magic he cast, had netted him a train ticket instead. As luck would have it the train would be stopping at Cayuga Springs itself. It seemed that while the town was small, just under eight thousand people, it did have a functioning train station. He looked at Chas as his best mate opened his own book bag, pulled out a book, and began to leaf through it.

“What’s that mate?” he asked.

Chas gave him a grin, and showed him the book.

“Geraldine got this for me,” he laughed, “She’s discovered My Little Pony, and she wanted me to read about it.”

John eyed him for a moment, “Really?” he laughed, “Never took you for one of those blokes, so, what’s happening in there? Lots of sunshine and rainbows?”

Chas shook his head, “I think that she got this because it’s about My Little Pony, but I don’t think that it’s what she thought it was.”

John studied him for a moment, “How so?”

He closed the book and showed the cover to John. The gold inlay looked wonderfully done, and it appeared as if there was a picture of a small pony, with a pistol floating by her head, standing in front of the title.

“Fallout Equestria?” he asked.

Chas nodded, “Yeah, I’m surprised at how good the story is, and honestly, the heroine, she reminds me of you.”

John cocked an eyebrow, “Does she now?”

He nodded, “Yeah, she’s facing forces stronger than she is, things she shouldn’t have a chance in hell at beating, and yet she’s pushing forward. She actually just dropped a box car onto a living goddess in order to beat her.”

John gave a laugh, “Really, might have to remember that. Of course that would mean being somewhere with a train, and typically I doubt that anything we’ve faced would want to meet anywhere that would remotely give us a bloody advantage.”

The ride lasted through the night, and well into the morning before the train itself stopped. The conductor walked by, letting them know that they had reached Cayuga Springs. Both of them grabbed their bags, and together they exited the train to see a picturesque small town. People walked almost uniformly through it, and everyone seemed to greet each other with a nod, some pleasant conversation, and not much else. It had a very Pleasantville feel to it.

He watched as everyone seemed to go about their business without batting so much as an eye at either of them. That wasn’t right. People, regardless of where they lived, tended to be curious about strangers. There was typically a need to at least look at and study anyone that didn’t belong, but instead it appeared as if everyone simply was treating Chas and himself as if they belonged there.

It wasn’t the overly welcoming most of the tourist sections of the town would give in order to make visitors feel as if they belonged, but instead it felt as if everyone was treating them almost as if they had always belonged there. There was no fear, no surprise, no questioning glances, but instead there was a quiet ignorance of their presence.

“Well, that’s bloody well off,” he said as he looked at his tall American friend, “Chas, why don’t you see about getting us a rental, and we’ll go from there.”

He began to walk out when he noticed something that fractured the picturesque look of the town. A lone woman ran, as fast as she could, toward the station only to fall to her knees and weep as the train left.

“No… no no no no no no, I was supposed to get out. I… I finally got loose! I was supposed to get out!” she screamed.

Two fairly well dressed men walked toward her. Both of them had sympathetic smiles on their faces, but it was what was behind the smile that bothered John. He felt a blankness, a sort of lack of individuality from them. Normally he could feel the sense of another person right off. Not really seeing their aura, that was more along Doctor Fate’s ability than his own, but instead he could get a sense of who they were.

These two might have been department store mannequins for all he could tell about them. He glanced at the others around him, and it was the same. More of the blankness, more of almost empty slates.

“Lads, it looks like the lady simply wants to take the train, how about leaving her alone till the next one runs through?”

One of them looked at him, paused, and then the same smile greeted him, “Ah, a visitor, I’m sorry our Aunt has made a scene. She’s not well, and it wouldn’t be right to simply let her go off by herself.”

The woman looked at John, moved toward him, but one of the well dressed men touched her. When he did a glazed over look appeared in her eyes. She went limp, and the two began helping her up. John moved toward them.

“We’re sorry for the confusion, we truly are, but we need to get her home.”

John looked at them, moved forward, and began to say something when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked at Chas, and then at the other people in town. Suddenly they were a point of interest. He realized that the looks weren't confusion, but instead they all looked like the two well dressed gentlemen. They seemed to be waiting to see if they needed to step into the situation.

“None of our business, sorry,” he said.

The two men left, and suddenly they were ignored again.

“John, there’s so much not adding up right now.”

John gave a nod, “True, but there’s nothing we can do right now mate. We’ll need to sneak around a bit before we can find out what’s going on.”

Leaving wasn’t an option, so instead the two of them went to the closest hotel. Going into the hotel itself John felt something cold run down his spine. He walked toward the counter and standing behind it was a woman. She was slender, her frame more petite, and if he was to guess she had a build of a model. Her raven locks looked fitting in a French Braid, and when she looked at him her forest green eyes looked completely uninterested. Unlike the rest of the population they had seen so far she wasn't blank, but there was something under the surface that he couldn’t quite gleam. Instead she looked at him, her eyes never showing the slightest bit of intrigue, and in truth she looked more like he was annoying her simply for being in her presence.

“I’m guessing the two of you would like a room?” she asked.

He nodded, and she studied him, “It’s fifty a night, the credit card machine is broken, so cash only.”

He dug into his right pocket and pulled out a hundred dollar bill. Handing it to her she grabbed a key and passed it to him. He noticed that the key wasn’t a key card, but instead it was an actual key. He took it, and expected to sign a book, but instead she simply looked at him.

“Yes?” she asked.

“Sorry, what room?”

She rolled her eyes, “The number is on the key. It’s room fifteen, the last one down on the right hand side.”

He gave her a nod, turned, and walked outside. Unlike everyone else there was something more about her. But that something felt dangerous. He couldn’t quite tell what it was, but the more he dealt with her the more it felt like almost as if she was connected to a demonic presence. Naturally he could be wrong. It was possible that she was simply an unpleasant wanker living a normal life with a shite job. He walked to the room, and slipped the key into the lock on the door. There was an audible click as it unlocked, and he pushed the door itself open.

He’d been in enough shitehole hotels to know one when he saw one. The room itself was stuck in the American eighties. An old VHS player and TV sat on the dresser, and the sink was an odd metallic mint green that had only really been popular when cocaine was the drug of choice. He heard Chas and the two of them began to check the room for any potential traps. There was nothing in the traditional sense, but he did find a small rag doll with hair sewn into it.

It was evidence of Voodoo, but the doll itself looked to be mostly unused. He took it, placed it into a plastic bag, drew a basic circle of protection on the bag with a sharpie, and then put it into the book bag he had brought.

“So, I doubt we’re going to find anything by the normal walk around and ask method.”

John nodded, “Yeah mate, we’re bloody well fucked there,” he took a seat and looked at the dresser, “Place has a plastic feel to it. Only one that seems to be somewhat real is the girl out there.”

Chas gave a nod, “Yeah, not real friendly though.”

He gave a nod, “But I got a feeling we’re dealing with Voodoo.”

Chas looked at him, “How?”

He opened his book back and pulled out the doll, “That’s a Voodoo doll. Fairly basic, has some hair, but nothing else really. It hasn’t been used, which in itself is odd. The hair means someone meant to use it.”

Chas looked at it and then at the door, “Think that whoever made it wasn’t given a chance to really use it?”

John gave a nod, “Exactly. Either this was the start of all of this, or someone figured out what was going on, and then they tried to stop it.”

Chas looked at him, and then walked toward the door. He stopped, grabbed the sharpie from the dresser, and then opened the door. He quickly drew a circle with a few runes in what seemed to be a random order, and then in the middle he drew a single eye that was resting on a pyramid.

“Better safe than sorry,” he said.

John gave a nod, “True, but it’s not going to hurt to get good and ready.”

Cayuga Springs Motor Lodge ‘Manager’s Apartment’

A young boy sat in the living room. Soft chirping sounds came from the background, but it wasn’t until the door opened and the woman from the front desk stepped in that everything grew quiet. He watched her, seeing how she moved forward, a soft smile on her lips, and then suddenly a green flash covered her. Her true form was one that made him feel at ease. Her black carapace seemed to be accented by light green joints. Her stomach itself was of this light green color, and her hair was a darker more forest green. Her fangs, something that would inspire fear in others did nothing to frighten him.

She knelt down to where he was, “They will never bother you again.”

He hugged her, getting one in return. She lifted a black crown from the dresser and fit it to her head. Suddenly there were others similar to her standing there. Most had blank blue eyes, their emotions and thoughts a mere reflection of her own.

“Everyone is gone?”

She nodded, “All except for two visitors. I will deal with them soon. No one will ever hit you, laugh at you, or attempt to control you ever again. You are mine, and as a Queen I will ensure those that try pay for it with their lives!”