When Night Feasts: Chapter Two

If you don't want to wait for next week's episode or you just want to show me some support, you can subscribe to my Patreon. All episodes of this book will be available three weeks before they are here for free on my blog.

Last Time on When Night Feasts: Ruby Simons navigated the bustling streets of Newland on her way home. She entered her apartment to find it strangely quiet and dark. Upon entering her roommate Alicia's room, Ruby discovered a terrifying creature on top of Alicia, causing her to gasp and drop her glass. The creature noticed Ruby, attacked her, and she managed to fend it off with a knife. As she tried to escape, a mysterious man stepped into her apartment, and Ruby fainted in terror.

Chapter Two

Thomas Dover, child of Diligence, gazed up at the grey, drizzly sky. It had been raining steadily for several hours, and he was grateful that it had ebbed down to a light sprinkle. He leaned against the wall, taking a drag from his cigarette, feeling the smoke fill his lungs and the nicotine subtly erode his frustrations. 

He was in a narrow alley that dead-ended at the back of one of the city’s hospitals. On either side of the alley, the hospital towered over him. The area was largely deserted, except for an ambulance parked by metal double doors. Its engine sputtered out smoke as it idled. 

Tom took another drag from his cigarette and exhaled, resisting the temptation to glance at his watch. He was on time, and that was all that mattered. At least, it was all that truly mattered to him. The doors swung open, and two men wheeled out an empty gurney, stowing it in the back of the ambulance. 

“Sorry, slick,” Tom said under his breath, referring to whomever the men had recently transported to the morgue. 

The sound of shoes on the pavement caught his attention, and Tom turned his head to see a man in a heavy black coat walk quickly around the corner. The man was in his late twenties, with chin-length black hair framing a sharp jawline and angry brown eyes. Cameron Frost, child of Wrath, seemed to be doing his parentage proud this morning.

Cam strode quickly up to Tom. He spoke before Tom so much as opened his mouth. “Yeah, yeah, I know, save it, I’m late,” Cam said, anger etched into his tone, “fucking trains are running late this morning.” He offered by way of explanation. “Some fuckin bumpkin backed a flatbed onto the tracks this morning. I bet the dumb fuck was watching some skirt instead of paying attention to his job, or noticing the bloody train bearing down on him.”

“Is the guy alright?” Tom asked.

Cam shrugged, “The fuck should I know? Do I look like I have a crystal ball in my jacket or something?”

Tom raised his hands. He wasn’t angry. Instead, he stayed quiet and let Cam get it out of his system. That was all there was to it. It wasn’t personal, it was just Cam's nature. Tom waited until Cam huffed, his anger subsiding.

“Thanks, Tom.” 

Tom nodded, “Anytime.” He took one last drag on his smoke and flicked it into a puddle, “Shall we?”

Cam led the way to the double doors. He pushed them open, and the men walked into the scent that could only belong to a morgue. The sharp tang of death mingled with the acrid smell of chemicals. Contrary to Tom’s childhood beliefs, the morgue was well-lit. Men in lab coats and women in nurses’ uniforms went about their tasks, only a few of them noticing Cam and Tom.

Stainless steel doors were embedded in the walls, and Tom noticed a few bodies covered in cloth. His and Cam’s shoes squeaked and clicked on the linoleum floor as they sought their quarry. 

They found Doctor Ronald Harvey in a small room. He was standing at a table with a cloth-covered body. Tom noticed patches of blood seeping through the cloth. Dr. Harvey looked up at them. He was short and pudgy with thinning blonde hair and watery blue eyes. He smiled grimly at Tom and Cam.

"Morning, Doc," Cam greeted as they entered the room, "Have a cold one for us?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes," Harvey replied, "Came in last night. The third one in the last month and a half." He pulled back the cloth, causing Tom to instinctively flinch.

“Fuck me,” Cam swore.

"Sorry, Cameron, you're not my type," the M.E. retorted without missing a beat.

On the table lay the remains of what Tom was fairly certain had once been a man. His head was missing, and his limbs were torn apart. Jagged cuts crisscrossed his chest, and his abdomen was split open, whether from the attack or an autopsy, Tom couldn't tell. He peered at the body, suppressing his sense of gore. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, and he felt uneasy.

"Do you think a demon did this?" Tom asked.

Harvey nodded.

"Could've been one of those mob hits," Cam suggested, sounding uncertain. "I've heard they've done some pretty messed up stuff."

The M.E. shrugged. "Doubtful, but we can always hope."

Cam looked closely at the body and shook his head. "Yeah... but I think you're right. What do you think, Tom?"

Tom kept his gaze fixed on the deceased man. "It was a demon. No doubt."

"Cardinal?" the M.E. inquired.

"Or possession," Cam said.

"Could it have been a dream?" Harvey asked.

Tom shook his head. "Not even a powerful one could do this. Sure, their claws and teeth burn, but they only leave welts."

Cam looked up. "Did you get that one you were tracking?"

Tom nodded his head and looked up from the body with a sigh. "Yeah, I did. It was a shame demon. Some gal walked in on it feeding on her roommate. It attacked her. When I got there, she was in the hallway with it on top of her."

"Shit, that's bad luck," Cam said. "And the roommate?"

Tom shook his head. "It tore through her mind. She's at a hospital outside of town, babbling incoherently."

"Will she be okay?" Harvey asked.

Tom had to remind himself that while Harvey was well-versed in medicine, he was new to the world of demons. Tom pulled out a notepad to jot down some notes. "She will be. Give her a few weeks of rest and she'll be alright... Probably."

He began scribbling notes about the body before him. "When did he die?"

"Late," Harvey replied. "But I don't know much more."

"What are you going to list as the cause of death?" Cam asked.

"I think decapitation should cover it," Harvey said.

Cam gave him a look. "Yeah, funny," he huffed. "Are the cops looking into it?"

"Yes, but I don't think you have anything to worry about. They suspect it's the mob."

"Good," Tom said. "We don't need them getting in harm's way." He jotted down some more notes. "Whatever did this is a nasty one. Thanks, doc."

They exited the morgue. Tom pulled out a cigarette as they made it to clear air. Cam lit up beside him. "Do you want George and I to take this?" Cam asked. "I know you’re sans partner."

"I think we'll all need to work on this one," Tom said, taking a drag. "That said, I shouldn't be in the field much until I get a new partner."

Cam smirked. "Feeling a bit of a tug to work but also to play it smart?"

Tom chuckled. "Diligence is a bitch." He took a puff, exhaling a cloud of smoke. "Alright, I'll see what I can find on the other two deaths and where the cops are at."

Cam nodded.

They split up and Tom took a cab to one of the city's police stations. As a member of the Sect, he wasn't a cop, but he enjoyed the same unrestricted access that law enforcement did. It didn't take him long to locate the files for the other two deaths, accompanied by a few pictures that were truly horrifying.

Tom pulled out his notepad and began his work, noting every relevant detail. The advantage was that what the actual cops deemed relevant and what Tom considered relevant were often two different things. He wasn't concerned about motive or means; demons didn't require those. However, they did need opportunity.

Tom noted everything he could about the deaths, including where the victims worked and spent their time. It was a tedious and time-consuming task. Tom felt compelled to check and recheck his work until the sun had set outside. He forced himself to stop and left the station, resisting the urge to visit the areas where the bodies had been discovered.

He stopped at a liquor store on his way home, grabbing a bottle of whiskey. The streets of Newland were bustling with end-of-day traffic and people heading out for the night as he trudged along. He entered his building and rode up to his floor. His front door closed with a solid thud as he walked in.

Tom's apartment was small but nice. Everything was well-maintained and clean. It was the epitome of organization. He switched on the radio and took down a glass from the cupboard. He poured the whiskey and knocked back the glass, feeling the heat spread down his throat and stomach. He poured another glass of the amber liquid.

He didn't gulp this one down but instead took a slow sip. He settled into a large, comfortable chair and closed his eyes, waiting for the buzz of the booze to hit him. As it did, he felt a wave of calm wash over him, and with the calm, the incessant buzzing in his mind subsided. He was able to ignore the urge to work, clean, or do anything responsible. Such was the life of a child of diligence.

He took another sip, savoring the whiskey on his tongue. As he swallowed, he heard a soft knock at the door. He rose and walked to the door, opening it. He was greeted by light brown eyes and chestnut hair. Full, lush lips turned up at the corners. Jessica Dixon looked like everything a daughter of lust should be.

He stepped back from the door, letting her in. With her came the soft scent of perfume, and Tom felt his urge to be a diligent worker fade away, replaced by the desire to be a good friend and companion.

"Good evening," Jessica said, her voice smooth but with a slight edge.

She turned to him, and Tom could see the tension in her eyes. She held a bag that smelled delightful.

"You look tense," she observed.

He sighed, "Likewise." 

She bit her lip. "Dinner then dessert?"

His gaze traced the perfect curve of her body, and he noticed that she had left a few of the top buttons on her blouse undone, revealing a generous amount of cleavage. No, Jessica was just as on edge as he was. It was best to curb the urges before they took control.

He smiled at her, letting that compulsion to be a good companion take over, "I think I'll have my dessert first, thank you."

Relief and desire washed over her face. Tom took the bag from her, placing it on the counter. Then his arms encircled her waist, and he leaned in to kiss her.

Previous
Previous

Titan: Episode Two

Next
Next

Titan: Episode One