Blogtober 19 – Halloween Jack 3 teaser
NOTE: This teaser for Halloween Jack and the Red Emperors has not gone through any edits. You’re reading as it exists in rough-draft. Final, published-version subject to change.
In Which Moira Dalton Waits to Ambush a New Enemy
On a foggy Halloween night in San Francisco, Moira Dalton hid in a wardrobe, wondering how it could be possible for a demon to not be afraid of jack o’lanterns. She’d pondered this question from every possible angle, since sunset, when she had herded the children who lived this orphanage into the attic to hide before climbing into this wardrobe to wait in ambush. Moira would have preferred to hide the children in a basement, but few buildings in San Francisco had basements or cellars. Nothing could go down. Everything in this “Paris of the West” had to go up, up, up.
Well…with the children secreted away, and Moira laying in wait for a demon that preyed upon children and who apparently wasn’t afraid of jack o’lanterns, her thoughts wandered. This was the first time in fourteen years, she was not playing hostess to demons after their shenanigans on the darkest night of the year. Instead, she was trusting her greatest of grandmothers to deal with the demons and the Dalton children while Moira followed her cousin Jack’s master scheme to deal with this situation.
Not for the first time, Moira wondered how much of Jack’s oddities came from being the descendant and heir to Jack of the Lantern and how much of it came from growing up an American.
Strange place this America. Stranger still to think that in her youth, Moira dreamed of visiting this vast land and having grand adventures. But that was before she met Sam, and before they had Fiona, and now the twins. That was before she had survived two great adventures with her cousin Jack. Make that, narrowly escaped. And while she knew that if she and her family hadn’t lived through those adventures, if given the choice, if someone ever asked, “Moira Dalton, would you care for an adventure?” Moira Dalton would reply, “Thank you, no. We’ve had quite enough adventure for one lifetime. Don’t you think another family might appreciate a little adventure for once?”
However…
Moira Dalton also understood the reality of who they were and where her family had come from. Descended from the legendary Jack of the Lantern, and now the protectors of humanity on the Darkest Night of the year, her family didn’t really have that option of turning down adventures or offering them to other people
And thus it was that Moira had spent a decent portion of this Halloween Night crammed into a wardrobe.
Waiting.
And waiting.
She spent part of the time worrying about Fionna and the twins. Of course the children would be fine back at the cottage with their greatest of great grandmothers. Truthfully, in many ways, the demons feared and respected the woman they called, the Lady, more than anyone else in their bloodline. Besides, Sam, Moira’s husband, could be back their, in any number of automaton bodies. And, truth be told and all things considered, since Halloween Jack had trapped the Devil himself to hammer, possibly for all eternity, with one of their family’s ancient heirlooms the demons had gotten far less rowdy and rambunctious.
Still, mothers worry. Especially since last year when they all learned that at least one demon had decided it was no longer afraid of jack o’ lanterns. Shortly after Halloween Night nearly a year ago, when their many-times-removed cousin, Father Sean, brought them word that Jack o’Lanterns had failed to keep a strange dog-shaped demon from ransacking an orphanage in San Francisco. And so, that was the reason Moira Dalton hid herself away in wardrobe. She waited on the possibility that this demon dog would come sniffling around looking for a tasty orphan treat, at which point, Moira would remind the demon why it should be afraid of Jack o’ Lanterns.
And so, she waited…
…and waited…
…and…
…waited…
…and…
“Oh, this is bloody stupid,” Moira said to no one in particular. “I hardly think any demon that’s worked up the courage to ignore the lanterns is going to be put off by me jumping out and saying, ‘Boo!’”
Pushing the wardrobe doors open, Moira got out, and stretched her arms, legs, and back. Her cousins’ “early warning” system could go pound sand, as she’d heard people say here in America. She’d been dealing with demons and dark beasties long before either Halloween Jack or Daniel McRory.
Feeling less cramped, Moira walked over to a table, and hopping up onto it, she sat facing the door with her legs hanging over the edge. As was her habit over the whole of her life, Moira swung her legs back and forth, back and forth, counting each swing to mark time. Unlike most people, Moira was perfectly content to sit quietly without any need for excitement or entertainment. So, when she swung her legs for the one-hundred-fifty-first time, she began to think perhaps this demon had either come to its senses about the lanterns, or it had gone to one of the other orphanages. Either way, for the first time in fourteen years, Moira Dalton allowed herself the faintest glimmer of hope that she might have the first quiet Halloween of her life.
And, as if by merely giving that thought consideration Moira cast it as a dare to the great powers-that-be of the universe, a large shadow moved across several of the windows.
Moira sighed and gave her eyes a little roll. She should have known better that to get her hopes up. Still, she remained sitting on the table, and only stopped her legs from swinging long enough to pull her pistol from its holder and set it on the table next to her.
The shadow passed by another window. And then another.
“Angels and ministers of grace,” Moira said. “Will you please break down the door already so we can get this over with?”
She was fairly certain the creature outside couldn’t hear her. Truth be told, she didn’t care much one way or the other.
Long ago, Moira decided that once she learned about any impending doom lurking in the shadows, she’d much rather just get down to the shouting and fighting. Of course whatever demon happened to be out there most likely figured on a quick snack of some orphans, and, for some reason, creatures of darkness always seemed to prefer to frighten their prey. Moira wondered why. More than that, she wondered why she’d never wondered that until now.
“I’ll have to ask Mixxplik about that,” Moira mused outloud.
By the time the shadow had gone across a window for the fifth time, Moira stopped swinging her legs and picked up her pistol.
Now, it wasn’t just any pistol. The family descended from Jack the Blacksmith did not use conventional firearms. While firearms were loud and flashy with the bang and spitting fire and smoke and all, they couldn’t really hurt demons. The descendants of Jack of the Lantern, along with their family and friends used more creative weaponry. Some few of the items they used to fight the creatures of darkness either came from wishes granted by divine powers or else were magical in some way. However, Moira’s cousin, Daniel McRory had crafted the pistols, as did most of the weapons they used to fight demons and other dark creatures. The pistols bore a passing similarity to the Colt Peacemaker; however, the bit of the gun where the bullets had been replaced by a glass orb, and a ball of yellow energy swirled within the glass, and each had a small dial and two switches where the hammer would have been. Daniel had given Moira this gun and its twin in thanks for rescuing him from the clutches of a vile succubus fourteen years earlier.
Moira pointed the gun at the orphanage door…
…and waited…
…and…
She didn’t have to wait nearly as long as she had while cramped in the wardrobe before she heard something scratch at the door.
Once…
Twice…
A pause…
Just to be sure she didn’t tip her hand too soon, Moira waited a few more moments.
And then the scratching resumed in earnest. No longer tentative little rakes of claws on the door, the creature increased its attempts to get in, the scratching became heavy raking sounds, and Moira imagined chunks of the door coming away with each swipe.
The corners of her mouth curled upward. Moira’s smile was not the wide, mischievous, wicked grin of her cousin, Halloween Jack; rather, it was the subtle smirk of a parent catching a child being too clever for his or her own good. While she no longer possessed the desire for adventure she’d yearned for in her youth, Moira Dalton’s heart still warmed any time she could get one over on the any beasty or baddy. Perhaps it ran in the family.
As she squeezed the trigger, Moira wondered, why didn’t the thing just open the door? It’s not locked.
By then, it was too late. The pistol went off. The sound of vworp filled the front room of the orphanage as ring of yellow-gold energy flew from the barrel and hit the door. The door blasted outward. It hit something large and dense with such force that the door shattered.
A large creature, unlike anything Moira had ever seen stood just beyond the door shaking its head and snorting like something that had been whacked on the nose as one might discipline a dog with a book or rolled up towel. Only…it was definitely not a dog.
With all the years she served demons coming out of the Devil’s Gate on the Darkest Night of the year, she’d never seen anything like this. As strange as some of those demons came, their forms had at one time been angelic, and therefor somewhat human like. The thing standing just outside of the snorting steam and now glaring at Moira with its green and golden eyes had no human-like characteristics what-so-ever. It looked like a strange cross between a dragon, a bull, and a lion. Three horns sloped out of its head, one right behind each eye and one in the middle of its forehead. Its claws gouged deep holes into the porch just outside of the door.
“What kind of bloody demon are you?” Moira asked, pointing her gun right at the thing.
Over the years, they had learned that if they got a demon talking, it would eventually give you the key to defeating it. In their pride, most demons were more than eager to talk about themselves in length and detail.
The demon in front of Moira responded, though not in any language she recognized, much less understood.
Moira repeated herself in both Latin and Irish.
The creature replied again, still speaking in that unknown language. Its eyes flicked to her gun for a moment and then rose to meet Moira’s gaze once again. It said something else. Flicked its eyes back to the gun. Cocked its head to the side, sniffed, met Moira’s gaze again, and took a step forward, which put its snout slightly through the door.
“Going to be like that is it?” Moira asked.
It was a rhetorical question, as were most queries she made to demons. Instead of waiting for an answer, Moira squeezed the trigger.
VWORP.
The circle of energy hit the creature, whatever it was. It slid back a few feet, its claws gouging deeper grooves in the porch. Moira did not like that at all. Not one bit. The thing should have gone tumbling through the air and crashed into the buildings on the far side of the street.
The creature cocked its head again, and again, fixing its eyes on the gun.
A deep growl rumbled from the creature’s throat
With a backward somersault, Moira rolled off the table. The monster surged forward, slamming into the door frame. Wood of the wall cracked and splintered. One or two more hits like that, and the beat would be in the orphanage. The last thing Moira wanted was to be stuck in such a confined space with that thing. The next to last thing she wanted was to keep fighting it alone.
As the creature backed up to make another run, Moira kicked the table over. Even as the edge thumped on the floor, she aimed her gun at it and fired.
VWORP.
The table flew across the room and slammed into the monster’s snout just as it struck the door frame again.
Moira didn’t wait to observe its reaction. She holstered one of her pistols, turned, and dashed back to the wardrobe, reached inside, and pulled the string. Within moments, three flares would launch from the roof, each five seconds apart. Now, all Moira had to do was keep the thing busy until they arrived.
The original plan had been for her to hide inside until the demon came, send up the signal flare through the tube that Daniel had installed, and wait for the cavalry as it were. She was supposed to be the surprise reinforcements if things got out of hand. Well, now mister oh-so-clever Halloween Jack could be the surprise reinforcements.
She didn’t suspect the Jack would scare this thing, even if he brought a hundred Jack o’Lanterns. Though even if Jack didn’t scare this thing when he first arrived, Moira was certain her cousin would rectify that with little trouble at all. Of all his talents, Jack was particularly skilled at terrifying the dark creatures of the world.
Moira raced across the room and snatched up her chair. Without slowing, she tossed the chair through a window. A few steps later, she leapt through that window, following the chair into the street.
She needed a plan.
First, get the thing’s attention and draw it away from the orphanage and the children.
Second…
Moira would worry about second after she took care of the first part of her plan.
Adjusting the dial on the gun pistol in her hand, Moira took careful aim, and fired.
This time the gun fired a circle of golden energy about the size of a silver dollar. It hit the creature’s hind flank, causing its hind quarters to fly away from Moira. This spun the beast’s body so that its head slammed into the inside of the door frame.
“Mind the door frame,” Moira called. “It can jump out at you.”
She didn’t speak so much as to be understood as much as she did just to make sure the creature knew where she was.
The beast pulled its head and shoulders from the doorway into the orphanage. It looked about for a moment before its gaze fell on Moira. The roar that followed held a the blend of irritation and rage that only someone descended from the line of John the Blacksmith could instill in something immortal.
Moira smiled, curtsied, and picked up her chair with her free hand.
First part of her plan accomplished.
“Now,” Moira said, mostly to herself to bolster her courage, “I only have to stay alive long enough for Jack to show up and work his mischievery.”
Maybe then this thing would why it should fear the lantern, and things could go back to normal.
The monster roared.
Moira stood her ground, unflinching. After having threatened the Devil himself without fear or reservation, she just couldn’t find other creatures quite as frightening.
It set back on its haunches, getting ready to pounce.
Moira leaned forward on the balls of her feet, ready to move. And that was the moment that
Moira realized that thing facing her might be preternaturally fast, that it had only been toying with her up to this point. Demons and other dark creatures were known to do that. Well, too late to worry about that now, so Moira just stayed ready, intent to carry out her original plan.
The creature leapt. Blessings upon blessings, it did not move preternaturally fast.
Moira waited until the last possible moment before diving underneath it as it pounced. Passing under its hind legs, Moira tossed her chair upward so that the seat of it connected with the monster’s back left foot.
A moment later, the creature landed and stumbled with the chair attached to its foot.
It tried to set to pounce again, but the chair obviously made its balance awkward. For a moment, the thing turned its attention away from Moira as it tried to shake the chair off its foot. It could keep trying. As far as Moira knew, she was the only person in all of creation who could get the chair to come away from the foot.
As this new foe dealt with the change in its situation, a figure came out of the air, landing between Moira and the creature.
The newcomer held a carved pumpkin in his left hand and a stick about two feet long in his right. The stick was covered in silver and iron crosses. He wore a coat of black wool and orange silk. Moira couldn’t see his face, but she imagined either his wicked-clever smirk or his maliciously-gleeful grin.
Now that Halloween Jack had decided to grace them with his presence, this creature might finally learn to fear the Jack o’Lanterns.
