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A quote: “The fear of burglars is not only the fear of being robbed, but also the fear of a sudden and unexpected clutch out of the darkness.” ~~ Elias Canetti
I’ll start with a story …
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I was in a bad part of town, the room as gloomy as Max’s face. He hunkered over it, jewelers loupe glinting under a single light.
I felt anxious but not unsafe. It would take one of Patton’s Army tanks to breech this hidey-hole. A tattoo of grey-green numbers was visible on Max’s inner arm. One of life’s hard lessons.
“Real?”
“Oh yes. Beautiful stone, 2 carats, antique cut.”
“And?”
“Real. Don’t tell me how it got loose from the …. owner.”
That worried me. Not the diamond but its setting; a canine tooth – 3 inches long …
And human.
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Now, it’s your turn.
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. featured image, cropped, Adobe Stock standard license
Sheila Garrett says: Max had done nothing to settle my mind. Sure, he gave me a price for the thing, but refused outright to buy it or put me in touch with anyone who would.
I wandered. I wanted to think and make sure I wasn’t being followed. I was turning homeward when I was shoved into a short, dark alley. I turned to fight, but there was nothing there.
A voice came from behind me, soft and breathless. “You’ve been betrayed, man.”
“Show yourself,” I snarled. A shadow formed in the darkness, smokey and manlike, but eight feet tall.
“We can help. Enlil never did like Dagon.”
If I get out of this, I’m going to kill Max.
Mikhael Yehuda’s whole body prickled with alertness. If he weren’t on a mission, he would’ve left this part of San Francisco strictly alone.
However, his latest lead had pointed here, to this little shop in a decidedly run-down neighborhood full of disreputable-looking people. At least they just glanced at him and then quickly turned back to their business, as if they had no desire to catch his attention. Like the hyenas lying low as a lion moved through the area, in the wildlife programs he’d loved to watch as a boy.
As he opened the door, a bell rang. Not an electronic chime, like so many small shops used, but an actual bell that hung from the door-closer.
From the back area of the shop emerged a tiny, wizened man, bald as an egg, a pair of silver spectacles perched upon his nose. Another man might’ve chosen long sleeves to hide the mark of man’s inhumanity to man, but he wore it as a badge of honor.
Greet him with the respect due a Survivor, and slip the recognition signal into his conversation. Once sign and countersign were exchanged, they could get down to the business — namely, the whereabouts of the infamous mercenary captain Georg von Gadolin, last sighted here in the Bay Area.
And if something goes wrong, Jerusalem will disavow any knowledge of you or this mission.
Cameron says: The sounds of the outside world faded away within the walls of the shop and there was only the dimly-lit room and the faceless man at the end.
“Do you know who I am?” he asked quietly.
I nodded. “I know that you cannot tolerate wicked people, that you have tested those who claim to be apostles but are not, and have found them false.”
“There is no returning to this world.”
“There is nothing here for me.”
A moment later, I was waking up in a new body far from Earth and being welcomed by others who had escaped.
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