Authors Note: All characters and storylines are fictional, however all locations are real and exist.
This story contains sexually explicit gay material, should you be under the legal age limit in your part of the world or it is completely illegal to be reading this, the Author takes no responsibility whatsoever in the consequences that may arise thereof.
This work remains the property of the Author and may by no means be copied without his permission. And for South African readers the following link applies: http://www.buys.co.za/publications/cyberlaw/CopyrightAct.htm
Readers Note: To all the readers that enjoyed the first chapter, I do apologize for the late installment of Chapter Two, As this is my first story I've actually put pen to paper for, I never knew just how much time it consumed. However it has been challenging and most enjoyable.
Please feel free to give feed back and your thoughts on the story thus far. Positive criticism is always welcome. Lood forward to hearing from you. I can be contactacted at m.gypsyraven@gamil.com
Chapter Two:
Al got home later that morning to his apartment in Salt River. Situated on the outskirts of the city centre he decided to walk to blow off some steam. When ever he was particularly angry and confused, such as now, he tended to stay away from home as much as possible. There where just too many temptations there, he could easily perform a spell that he'd later regret.
Al made his way directly to his bed ignoring Greg's advice to drink water before he went to sleep, but he was too tiered to do anything else but sleep. He flopped down on the bed in his clothes and tried to sleep. But sleep didn't come, he was far too restless and the walk home hadn't cleared his mind sufficiently. He was already impatient for news from the Shade that he had sent out merely hours before, but it would be futile to call it back so soon, what could it have possibly learnt in such a short time?
Al had to pull himself together, so he stripped down, and went to take a hot shower. Letting the hot water rush over him he felt as if all his worries melted away, except for a nagging aspect at the back of his mind that was bothering him and he couldn't bring it to the fore and identify it.
He looked down in frustration and shook his head only to be reminded of his side-splitting headache. Holding his bowed head, he opened his eyes and saw the water running down his slim toned body and through the dark path, leading from his belly button to the nest of almost black hair surrounding his thick manhood and dripping off the end.
His cock gently flexed and triggered a flood of memories from last night. Watching it grow and take shape, Al groaned softly giving in to its temptation. He ran his hand down his chest and over the slight ripples of his abs, bringing a new sensation to him that he previously would not have thought of.
Wanting more he let his hand slide over his now erect cock and began wanking himself. It felt good in the shower with the hot water for lubricant, but there was something else missing, he searched for a memory to help him enjoy it more, and there it was in the rush of thoughts that had just came over him. Focusing on the memory of Greg's eyes and molded features his pleasure doubled. His hand now moving faster and the other absently exploring the rest of his body he remembered how good it was to feel the other body against his not so long ago. Reaching his climax he couldn't help but utter the word, "Greg," while he shuddered in the heat of the shower releasing his pleasure on the blue and white checkered tiles.
Once out of the shower Al went to his bedroom, feelings of guilt and frustration still battled the new found lust inside of him, he wanted to have more. He wanted to have Greg. But the fact still remained that he dad been stolen from, something precious. He had waited a long time to get his hands on that crystal, but only to have it taken away from him is not how he saw things working out.
Finding his calling at a fortunate young age, Al had been a Summoner most of his life – even at the tender age of twenty three he was one of, if not, the most experienced in summoning that he knew of. It came naturally to him and he experimented far and wide.
He had been around the block a few times and he knew most of the lore of spirits, which is what drove him to seek out the crystal and make it his. Al had, over the recent years, begun to feel at a loss. Summoning spirits to aid him become a better person or in one of the many dangerous situations he had found himself had become tedious. What he now sought after was a Familiar. The fact he hadn't found or been chosen by a Spirit Familiar by now was troubling him and occupying a lot of his time. He had worked too long and taken too many risks to let this opportunity pass him by.
Shill he felt anger for Greg, and in the presence of his arsenal he couldn't trust himself. So lying, still naked, on his bed, he meditated himself into a deep sleep. Al awoke rejuvenated early the following morning; he went to work and came home. Tuesday came and went too, still no Shade. The days dragged painfully on.
The clock had no sooner registered twelve a.m. Friday morning when a sleek black apparition appeared at the foot of Al's bed. It waited patiently for him to awake. Al was in a shallow sleep and woke quietly and lay still. He was vaguely aware of a presence in his room though he couldn't be sure it was benign. He cast his mind out to find out who or what it was, when he found the traces of the infinite patience of the Shade he quickly sat up eager for news. Still pulling himself out of his sleep he gained control of his lame tongue.
"Hi there, it's about time you came back." Al thanked the Shade, but it made no reply. Al looked at it collecting his thoughts.
"What is the name of the target?" He prompted, wanting to make sure the Shade followed the correct person.
"He is the one with the name you already know." The ethereal voice touched on Al's mind skipping his ears.
"Yes, that is the one," satisfied with the cryptic answer, Al continued. "Where does he live?"
"He lives on the shores of the South Seas, high where winds blow and..."
"Yes, thank you," Al cut the Shade short. Questioning a spirit could last for hours if you aren't specific enough. So Greg could have lived anywhere between the Strand to Simons Town which spanned a little less than sixty kilometers. Although the word "High" did catch his attention. So that indicated on a hill or in a block of flats. So he followed his gut with the flats idea. "What is the number of his, um, abode?" Al ventured.
"The number on the door of the one you love is 808." The Shade said matter-of-factly. Al stared in disbelief. He couldn't have heard right. "Stop talking in circles and only answer what I ask!" he scolded the Shade pointing his finger at it. He pushed the absurd idea of love to the furthest reaches of his mind. "Now, you where there for a long time, what are his movements like?" Bracing himself for a lengthy answer he waited.
"He rises an hour after the crow of the cock." That sent Al's mind thinking a little off track, but the Shade continued, "And cleanses his body in water and then his mind. Every day passed there after he feeds and communes at length with his master over an unknown device."
"You bugger." Al thought to himself without letting the Shade hear, "you know damn well what a cellular phone is."
"And," the Shade went on, "Every day there after his movements are never the same save for one."
"And that is?"
"He comes down from his perch on high immediately after having communed with his master."
"Usually what time?"
"Never the same time, for it always depends on how long he and the master speak."
Al had already gathered enough knowledge for a confrontation, enough to intercept him in the morning. Al questioned the Shade further with regards to the crystal only to find that Greg had hidden it in his flat and it remained there. However the Shade refused to look directly at the crystal because of the energies it gave off and therefore it did not know where precisely it was hidden. Al wasn't all too concerned with that, it was a simple matter of finding it once he was there.
They spoke for quite some time still, Al wanting to know as much about the thief before he confronted him. He was going to be as ready as he could be. Once he had gotten as much information as possible (he knew this because the Shade began repeating the same answers to his questions, a sign that it generally didn't know the answer). Learning all he could, he released the Shade to think about a how to confront Greg for the crystal.
What he had learnt was that Greg was a sales person of sorts, and that he always ran things though his boss. He lived alone and that he was quite sociable meeting friends or acquaintances in the evenings, Al wasn't sure of which because the Shade wasn't sure, just that he went out almost every night to meet someone. What Al was happy to hear is that he wasn't having any sexual relations of any kind, so he was put to ease about at least one thing.
Categorizing all the information he had received into something he could use to get the crystal back, Al realized that the Shade hadn't quite left his room although he couldn't see it. Not that it bothered him, but he did enjoy his privacy. When something he overlooked earlier became suddenly apparent, the Shade was giving off the feeling of a raven.
Shades generally felt like any other low ranking spirit, but not this one. Spirits that gave off emanations usually had powers of their own or where higher ranking, something like a creature of myth or a God. The Shade was very placid in his presence, but it made Al feel uneasy all the same that it could do this.
The night wore on. Not long before sunrise, Al was no where closer to making a plan than he was when he released the Shade. So he decided to be as resourceful as possible. He got dressed and made his way down to the train station where he caught the first train of the morning at 05:10. Getting on board the train heading outbound to the southern suburbs he settled in for the near hour ride.
Coming up to the Southern coast line of the peninsula Al was aware that the Shade was following him. He couldn't be sure why, but was sure he'd find out soon enough. He was staring out of the window at the sea as the train pulled into Muizenburg train station. He heard a whisper, but it wasn't sound. It was thought, the Shade was trying to get his attention, Al let his mind open for the message.
"Get off the train now!" The Shade said urgently. Without hesitation Al was out of his seat and out of the train on the platform. Not too soon either as the train pulled away for its destination. Left alone on the empty platform he became aware that he didn't know where Greg's flat was. Not knowing where to start, something caught his attention to his left. Turning to get a better view, he squinted a little only to realize that it was the Shade. It promptly disappeared again from sight before he could make it out clearly, only to leave him with a direct view of the only building for miles to have eight floors or more.
Al could have kicked himself. It was quite obvious that it was this building, there where few other possibilities and even so, they were sixty kilometers away. Checking his watch he was ahead of schedule by a little over an hour. Enough time to make his way to the building and wait for Greg. Al looked in the general direction of where the Shade was last and said, "Thanks." Then he headed for the exit of the train station at a leisurely pace.
He made himself comfortable over the road from the lobby entrance to Killarney Heights and waited. Time went by faster than he expected and he still wasn't ready when he saw Greg leaving the front doors of the building. Greg didn't see him as Al made his way across the road to get his attention.
"Greg." Al called as he stepped on the pavement. Greg turned to see who was calling his name. "You, oh... uh, hi." Greg flustered not knowing where to start.
"Yes, me." Al mocked him. His anger rising. Quickly Greg reassessed the situation and regained his confidence.
"I was wondering if I'd see you again."
"Well fancy that, here I am."
"Yes you are," Greg said with that dashing smile of his that rocked Al's defenses, "I'm going for some breakfast, would you like to join me?"
"No thank you, I came to talk to you about something important."
"Surely not here on the street, coffee perhaps?" he persisted.
"No thank you," Al stood his ground, "I'm sure your breakfast was filling already, after you showered and did your Yoga."
Greg's smile faltered but he bounced back, "What you mean? We had a great time the other night and now that I finally do see you again, I can't take you for coffee?" Even though his exterior was cheery, Al knew his mind was working in overdrive.
"You took something from me and I want it back."
"Al, I really don't know what you are talking about." The use of his name gave Al a shiver of pleasure. He admired Greg for keeping his calm. "Admire?" thought Al, "You are here to claim back what is yours!" He reminded himself.
"Don't try and pull the wool over my eyes, I know you pick pocketed me at the club and I know you got my crystal, I need it back."
"Al..." Greg began in his calming voice.
"Damn it Greg, stop fucking around and cough it up!" Al lost his temper, "I know you got it and if you even think of doing something stupid like selling it you are going to regret it." He instantly regretted his words as he saw Greg's features steel. Al had an on the spot idea that he might sell the crystal and hit the nail on the head, and seemed to push a dangerous button too.
"Look here, so what if I got it? It's now mine and mine to do with what I want." Greg didn't want to be nasty, but this guy already knew too much about him. How he wasn't sure, he always kept his movements as random as possible even though he enjoyed his little private routines that he had at home. This guy had gone too far, to meddle in his work was dangerous for uninformed people. He'd seen those kinds of people disappear all to easily, not to return to their lives. "Go now and leave me alone, if you know what's good for you."
They stared at each other for a moment, the other not knowing entirely what to say.
"Just give it back, and no one will have to find out what's good for them." Al spoke first.
"Its too late, I've already got a buyer and I'm on my way to close the deal" Greg fell right into Al's trap and practically confessed to his intentions.
"You're a terrible liar, Greg." Al said sadly, he could see that Greg was bluffing though he wasn't sure if he had a buyer lined up or not.
Seeing the change in composure, Greg dropped his guard for a moment, Al looked like a tragic hero. His features strikingly attractive, he felt his groin give a throb. "Its done and there's nothing I can do about it. It's out of my hands." And as if that was final and an answer to everything he turned and walked away.
Al watched him walking away. Desperate for a more substantial conclusion to their argument, he went after Greg. "Please." He called before he could stop himself, "You don't know how important it is." Al had promised himself that he wouldn't beg. He never begged, he found it degrading and embarrassing and never saw himself portrayed by either.
Greg stopped and looked back. "You don't get it do you? Its over and you've lost. However important it might have been, I'm sure its not life threatening, or else you wouldn't be begging." Greg was right and now his turn to hit some buttons.
"You want to do this the hard way, fine!" Al flared up, he knew that it wasn't life threatening and if he had stopped to take the time he would have realized that he didn't need the crystal at all. But he was blinded by the craving for power and anger for being proven wrong. It hurt, especially that it came from Greg. And he still couldn't put his finger on why this man made him tick and it added frustration to the mixture of his feelings.
Al turned and walked away, a complete bundle of confusion. The only thing he knew for sure was that he was going to get the crystal back, one way or another, tonight.
Al returned to Killarney Heights that night. From what the Shade had told him, he gathered that Greg was out socializing or at least on his way out. Breaking and entering was not one of Al's weaknesses, or the guilt thereof. Keeping well out of sight under the invisibility of a summoned spirit, he moved in short stages making his way up to the eighth floor. Once there he searched to locate flat 808.
Finding the door, he summoned the Shade he had used to tag Greg before, but it would not come. Not seeing the significance in this, he merely shrugged and called another Shade, all the while remaining out of view of possible prying eyes.
"Go inside this dwelling," he commanded, "And tell me if the master is home or not."
The Shade slipped through the wall obediently only to return less than a minute later.
"The master is home." It reported simply.
"What is the master doing?"
"He has only but finished washing."
Al's thoughts drifted at once to what Greg might look like in a towel, tall, dark and smooth. As stated earlier, Al never really took the time to analyze his sexual preferences not to mention racial groups he may be attracted too. Honestly he never saw himself attracted to a person of colour. But make no mistake, of his few friends they where diverse over the colour spectrum and his closest, most dear of these was an African Witchdoctor thrice his age.
Living in a country with a broken background marred by violence, it is difficult not to adopt your parents points of view and tendencies. Not Al, he rebelled against all their teachings from political standings to spirituality. He was his own individual.
"Thank you." Al dismissed the new Shade. After a moment of tying to come up with a plan, to do at least something, he found himself raising his hand, not knowing why, to ring the doorbell.
Greg stepped out of the shower and reached for his towel. As he was leaning over to reach the towel rack a movement caught his attention in the mirror. It wasn't him as it was totally steamed beyond clear reflection. It was like a shadow moving past, he could have sworn he saw something, but instead he brushed the idea to paranoia. He was a little shaken from a call he had a little earlier from one of his buyers.
The lady on the other side of the line was quite persistent that she was looking for something of value. But in his line of work, it depended on what a person thought as valuable. A painting may just be a painting to one buyer, however to another it may be a priceless work of art. It all came down to perception. This lady had been different; she was looking for a jewel or something along those lines and was adamant that Greg had it. Or at least knew someone who may have an artifact to her liking. It was almost as if she was trying to get him to confess to having the only thing that came to mind, the crystal.
It was the only item he currently possessed (that was for sale) that fitted the description criteria. And to make matters more puzzling, Al was looking for it too. Actually he had had it in the first place and that was troubling too. His attention fell on his cell phone that was under the mirror on the basin cabinet, where he left it before he got into the shower. When the idea occurred to him that he should sell it. Get it off his hands and Al's, he was sure Al would understand in the long run.
Wrapping the towel around his waist he picked up his phone and texted the unknown lady that he had come across some information that may interest her , and that she should contact him as soon as possible if she was still interested. As he pressed the send button the doorbell rang, being his usual confident self he made his way to answer the door not bothering to put anything else on.
As he opened the door he put his phone down on the small table next to the door. He didn't see anyone outside. He poked his head out the doorway and looked left and right, but the corridor was deserted. Not seeing anyone his thoughts returned to his evening's entertainment – the Twink from last week Saturday. He slowly pushed the door closed, only for it to be stopped by a hand.
The door opened in front of Al. A feeling of déjà vu washed over him, he had been in this situation before, a corridor, a door opening and he being invisible. But the feeling quickly dissipated as his heart skipped a beat and got stuck in his throat. Greg had opened the door in all his glory and only wrapped in a towel. Al's eyes wondered over the half naked body in the good light, the abs and pecs where not overly defined but toned. And there were traces that he enjoyed life and food too. Sparsely filling the gaps of the hard muscles was thicker skin, fat not entirely burnt off. The well proportioned body was for lack of anything else, perfect. Al goggled forgetting that Greg was not able to see him, but as the door began to close he was brought back to his senses feeling robbed of the sight now hidden from him.
Al quickly stepped forward out from under his concealment and placed his hand firmly on the door. Greg pulled it open again to see who had stopped it. Again they found themselves staring at each other for a moment.
"Hi, may I come in?" Al broke the silence.
"I don't know. Are you going to behave yourself?"
"Now why would you think otherwise, I just want to talk."
"You just wanted to talk this morning too."
"Well in that case I believe you offered me coffee too, and breakfast," Al reminded him and stepped over the threshold, "But I'm not greedy, I'll settle for coffee."
Greg let him pass and closed the door behind him. He went to the kitchen followed by Al. Al couldn't but let his eyes wonder over the odd assortments that was placed around the flat. Too many paintings hung on the walls and many rested against walls and furniture, there where one or two rhino horns and a few laptops and two computers. There were many other items, too many to mention even and he thought he even saw a complex part of a rifle half concealed. But even though the place was cluttered, there was a definite order of sorts and it looked quite neat and acceptable. Stopping in the kitchen, Greg began to make coffee.
"Two sugars, milk?" He asked.
"Yes please." Al said not paying much attention.
"See anything you like?"
"Pardon? Um..."
"You know something; you're actually cute when you're out of your depth."
Al flushed red, he never did handle complements well. "I... er, see you really are in the selling business."
"You want it, I get it." Greg boasted, smiling as he walked over to give Al his coffee. "I got a lot of buyers and if you came for what you wanted this morning, I'm afraid you are going to be disappointed."
Al wasn't sure whether or not to be angry; he was far to occupied by sneaking glances at Greg's body. Which weren't going unnoticed, Greg was getting turned on again by the innocence that was in front of him.
"Come, sit." Greg suggested as he led Al to the lounge. He cleared a place on his couch for them to sit down, a space so that they were not too far apart. "So tell me, why you wanted this crystal so badly?" he said lounging back on the deep couch making Al all the more nervous. "I just wish he'd go put something on so I could concentrate." Al thought angrily.
Al tried to pull his thoughts together, thinking up a legitimate lie to why the crystal was so important to him, when they were interrupted by a loud knock on the door. Frowning, Greg got up to answer it, "Don't go anywhere." He said with a suggestive wink. Greg had no sooner opened the door when he shouted loud in surprise and there was commotion as he was led back to the lounge at gun point.
Al stood up quickly in shock wondering what was going on. Two men in suits wielding guns came barging in. One pointed at Greg.
"Don't move!" Said on of the men and he aimed his gun on Al. He jerked his gun indicating that he must sit down; the other man did the same to Greg. "Where is the crystal?" He spoke again, this time to Greg. But Greg didn't answer. "Don't tempt me, I'll take a knee cap at a time." He looked serious enough and he had a silencer on the end of his gun, so his threat wasn't entirely empty. "I don't know what you are talking about." Greg answered, his features stony serious. The second man fired his gun into the back of the couch to make their point clear. That was the final straw for Al, he was about to summon something as nasty as he dare, without harming Greg in the process when the tables really turned completely out of their favour. He couldn't believe who just walked in.
"Now, now, I'm sure we won't be needing any of that." A third man said as he came walking in fast, speaking to the two men in suits but his gaze was fixed on Al. He stood nearly a full two meters high and was dressed like something out of a silly vampire movie. He was wearing a pair of dark khaki pants that had way too many pockets and a black shirt that had a sash of rifle bullets draped form one shoulder to the opposite hip like Rambo, all covered by a dirty brown trench coat that was unbuttoned. "You boys go look for the crystal and I'll watch these two." The men in suits exchanged uncertain glance. "Now." Said the third man in a tone that was final.
The two gunmen left the room in search of the crystal. Al, Greg and the new presence were left in a temporary awkward silence. Al was uncertain if he should give himself away that he knew this third man, but that was all decided for him.
"So, Alfred, are you going to introduce me to your new friend or should I just ask him myself." He asked.
Greg looked at Al with big demanding eyes. "You know this thing?"
Al practically withered under Greg's stare, "I wouldn't refer to him as such while he is in our presence." Al advised. Greg was about to protest at being treated like this in his own flat when the man took a menacing step forward.
"You better listen to your friend if you have any sense at all." The big man threatened.
Al laid a hand on Greg's knee to give him some reassurance, a gesture that Greg accepted but was lost on the big brute. "This is Clayton," Al explained, "The Knife." He added mockingly with a sneer.
"We have a certain history together." Clayton said narrowing his eyes.
"Ha! You poaching on my collections or meddling in business that's not yours could hardly be called history." Al scoffed.
Clayton took three long, quick strides and stuck Al with a backhand across his face. Greg launched himself at the attacker only to receive a quick blow to his stomach. He doubled over and fell on the couch wheezing for air. Al quickly forgot his own demise and put his arm around him. Al narrowed his eyes as he glared at Clayton..
"You'll pay for that Clay." he threatened.
Clayton stepped back and took in the scene, there was something amiss to see Al holding a half naked man, shielding him so fiercely. But before he could make the connection that there was more to the eye a noise from the back of the flat broke his attention. "Don't go anywhere." He chortled and turned to investigate what had happened. From the back there was a muffled conversation as the three men continued to ransack Greg's flat.
"We have to get out of here." Al whispered to Greg.
"We? More like me. You bring these people..."
"Hey," Al cut him short, "I brought nobody but myself." He continued struggling to keep a whisper in his anger. "Just because I know one of them doesn't make us accomplices.
"Then you tell me how they came here."
"If I can find you, I'm sure other people can too. Besides, Clay is very resourceful and you don't want to cross him." Al warned.
"Seems to me like you two have history."
"Probably not the kind you're thinking of."
"Then how? He's here in my flat and you two seem to have unresolved issues."
Al tried to suppress his laugh, Greg wouldn't even be able to guess the colorful history that Al and Clayton shared. "Lets just say that I've crossed him one too many times and lived to tell the tale." Greg tried to protest the vague answer he received, but was cut short again. "Lets leave it at that for now, we have to get out of here," he stressed, "I'll tell you another time." He then promised to get Greg to at least cooperate.
"Fine, what do you propose?"
Before Al could make the proper connection in his mind, Clayton came storming into the living room. "Just make sure you find that fucking thing." He shouted over his shoulder. "Now, I thought I heard some laughing. Care to share the joke?"
Just then the phone began ringing.
"That's my sister," Greg explained, "and it I don't answer she'll know something is wrong."
Clayton hesitated briefly with his thoughts, "Answer, but if you mention anything that I don't like," he said slowly pulling a miniature crossbow from the inner recesses of his coat, "she wont ever know what happened here before we leave." He ended pointing the barbed arrow in the crossbow at Greg.
Greg lifted the portable receiver and answered. While he spoke to his sister Al waited to catch Clayton's eye.
"You so much as try and pull that trigger and you're ass is as good as dead." Al said trying to maintain his temper.
"Really, I got some new toys that I'm dying to try out," Clayton said wiggling his fingers, indicating the new rings on his free hand.
"Careful what you wish for Clay." Al retorted.
Clayton's eyes flashed back to Greg, "Get off, you taking too long." Greg brought the conversation to an end and said goodbye and hung up, but he remained standing with the phone in his hand.
"Now, who's first?" Clay droned, "We can't have any loose ends now." He went on, now swinging his aim back and forth between Al and Greg. Al looked at Greg and for the first time showed fear in his eyes. He knew that one of them was certainly going to get hit by the arrow, but he feared more for Greg. But something was different about Greg, he stood feet apart in his towel and shoulders back with a slight smirk on his face.
"Well who's it gonna be?" Clayton asked again.
Al wasn't sure what was happening until he saw Greg give him a barely perceptible wink. Instantly he took his cue, or so he guessed, trusting Greg he gathered what courage he had left in the hopeless situation.
Greg timed it well, he waited until Clayton's hand aimed at him and was then on its slow track back to aiming at Al. As fast as he could he threw the phone at Clayton. Caught off guard, Clayton swung his aim back at Greg growling with anger. The phone flew a little wide of his head and he didn't even flinch. Al seized his opportunity and reached for his coffee and flung the contents at Clayton, this time he did flinch as he the hot liquid rained over him. He threw up this free arm to cover his face and involuntarily pulled the trigger of the crossbow at the same time. It launched from the string at blinding speed directly for Greg. Al let out a low scream and Clayton looked bewildered wondering why the cold coffee wasn't burning.
Before Greg had time to react he heard the arrow thud into the cement wall behind him, all that he felt was the fletching brush his right side as it flew between his right arm and his chest. Al swung his head from Clayton to Greg taking in what had just happened. He eventually stopped and focused on Greg searching for blood, but he saw none and neither did Clayton.
"You fuck! You could have killed him." Al shouted, Clayton responded with a grunt and moved forward to attack Greg, this time with his hands. On his second step Al flicked his empty mug at Clayton and it crashed on the side of his head in splinters. Clayton dropped to his knees heavily and then toppled forward, blood flowing freely form the gash behind his left temple.
"Come let's go." Al blurted in what sounded like one word.
Greg didn't budge though, he was processing the fact that Al had probably killed this stranger in his flat. His mind was running through the legal implications that this now created.
"Let's go!" Al stressed again, this time grabbing Greg's hand and making for the door. And just in time too, the two other men that were ransacking the other rooms came to see what the problem was, only to find Clayton on the floor bleeding and the two young men running out the front door.
Al and Greg had just gone through the front door and turned down the corridor to find an escape when the where given a farewell shower of 9mm bullets to speed them on their way. They ducked down the first flight of stairs next to the elevator to go down to the seventh floor where Al stopped.
"I came for the crystal and I'm not leaving with out it."
"Now's a fine time to be thinking about that." Greg replied angrily.
"And besides, you're half naked, how far do you think we're gonna get?"
"We can go to my sisters."
"In what?"
"My car," Greg began, but quickly saw the error in this plan. He was still in his towel and that he didn't have the car keys on him either.
"Wait here, I'll be right back." Al winked.
"But you don't have a weapon." Greg protested grabbing Al's arm.
This went on for a moment or two until they hit a stale mate that they were just as stubborn as the other. Al knew he could handle two goons with guns. So he moved forward to kiss Greg but he hesitated, he wasn't sure how he'd receive it. So he did it any way. He leaned forward and kissed Greg deeply, but briefly.
"I'll be right back." He promised. Bewildered, Greg let go of his arm and watched him dash back up the stairs to the eighth floor.
Al inched quietly towards the open door, he wasn't sure if the two suits where still in there or not. So quieting his mind, he called a spirit, one which he had used many times in the past; it was a slightly disturbed spirit which usually left weak minded people stunned or fast asleep in its presence. He gently guided it with his mind to enter the flat, where it would no doubt find the two men and render them fast asleep or standing stupid.
However, the spirit stopped in the kitchen and wouldn't go any further into the flat like it was being told to. Angry and puzzled, Al took a chance peek around the now bullet ridden door frame. From just that glance he saw the new problem. The spirit wouldn't work where there was a crowd. Al had seen at least five or seven more suits running around, throwing things over and a few attending to Clayton. "They must have called for back up when they heard the noise," Al thought, "And coming up in the elevator, missed us when we were on the seventh floor." He concluded.
"Right." He said softly, "They want to be business like, I'll give them business to deal with."
He released the spirit in the kitchen and crouched down to trace a symbol on the floor in front of him and softly chanted an invocation. The symbol glowed red then went hot and as white as ice. Al backed off to watch the Djinn appearing in front of him, keeping well out of its grasp.
"Inside there is the debt that I owe you." Al said simply, indicating to the open door behind the Djinn. It stared at him, turned and went inside Greg's flat. The general silence from inside the flat was short lived. Blood curdling screams at unnatural pitches came from the open doorway. Sounds of unknown objects or possibly bodies being flung this way and that, also punctuated the screams. Eventually of what seemed like hours to Al of the actual minute or two that he waited, it got quieter as each scream , one by one came to an abrupt end.
Al walked in quickly, he wanted to banish the Djinn before it killed all of the suits. He knew that it got more pleasure out of hurting or sadistically playing with their minds before it actually killed and took their souls for its own personal slaves. That was the worst part of all, the Djinn was quick and efficient, but messy. But Al needed the job done.
The flat was littered with bodies everywhere, eight to his count including Clayton on the floor, who knows how many else? But they were all still alive, unconscious, but alive. They didn't carry the death trademark of this Djinn.
Al moved so he could look into the bathroom, here he saw the back of the Djinn, busy with one of the suits – clearly he was bringing them here to finish his work.
"At least you're punctual for a change," Al said, "and practical." He added sarcastically.
The Djinn turned to him and advanced. Al backed away saying the banishing spell, but he tripped over a body and landed full on Clayton who moaned and began waking up.
"Give it, give it, give it, give it." The Djinn motor mouthed.
"Give what?" Al said getting worried.
"Give it, give it, give it, give it." The Djinn repeated.
"What!"
"Power, power, power, power, give it power!" It screeched with the look of death in its eyes.
Al then realized that it was feeling the energies of the crystal and was getting greedy, so he repeated the banishing exorcism, but it wasn't working.
"Give it, give it, give it, give it." The Djinn persisted getting more aggravated and angry with Al for not giving it the increase in energies that it was feeling. It moved forward to take its anger out on him, not to mention that he would make a fine and powerful slave, allowing the Djinn to accomplish some difficult personal goals.
Now towering over Al, its attention was broken by a movement in the night outside the window. Al turned around to see what it was. There on the windowsill, was a rather large Raven, perched majestically and so black that it almost blended with the darkness behind it. A look of fear took hold of the Djinn's face and it disappeared hastily scorching the carpet where it was standing.
"Muninn! What are you doing here?" Al said angrily, standing up and backing away from the burn marks left on the floor. "I had everything under control." He ended lamely facing the Raven.
The Raven didn't move, it just looked at him. Then as before with the Shade, the words skipped his ears and appeared in his mind.
"Do not make me have to save your life again." The Raven hopped off the window ledge and disappeared into the night.
The fact that the Raven was just here and had spoken to him had left him more shaken than the close encounter with the Djinn. His mind was racing. Muninn didn't speak to humans let alone appear to them. Something big was happening, bigger than the crystal, himself or the fact that Clayton was involved.
His concentration was broken by Greg entering the flat and picking his way through the debris.
"What the fuck happened to my flat?" He demanded.
"I'll tell you later." Al said looking sheepish.
"More to the point, what the fuck did you do to these people?" Greg carried on indicating the bodies that littered the floor.
Al wasn't sure how to answer to he turned and faced the now semi-conscious Clayton, who was struggling to his knees. Al aimed a kick to the side of his head and Clayton fell again like a stone with a thump.
"All I can say," Al said turning to Greg, "is that I'm as scared as you and I don't want this to happen to me." He made a gesture to the floor then ended, "To us."
"Oh no, you mean you, I'm not getting involved."
"Its too late for that, you're already involved, you have the crystal and that's all these people care about. They'll stop at nothing to get it back."
Greg was going to object that he could take care of himself, but Al continued: "Speaking of which, this is a pretty big unit that was taken out here, there will be more on the way and cops too. I'm sure someone called them with all the gunshots."
This made more sense to Greg and convinced him that it would be best to leave and deal with everything later.
"Quickly go get dressed." Al urged.
Greg hurried to his room but stopped short when he passed the bathroom, he backtracked and stared in disgusted awe at the new paint job that the now red bathroom had received. He looked at Al for an explanation.
"Yes, seven liters can go a long way, please hurry."
Greg continued to his room.
Al waited for a few minutes when Greg came back to the lounge wearing a pair of black utility cargo pants and a khaki T-shirt that had very short sleeves, exposing his upper arms well. He had a bad slung over a shoulder that came down to his opposite hip. He walked past Al to the corner of the lounge next to the wall unit where there was a display of antiques. He picked up a fair sized box and clipped open an unseen latch that let a hidden drawer slip out of the base of the box. He took out a Cryptex and tossed it to Al.
"Hey." Al exclaimed catching it, "I thought you're supposed to be gentle with these things."
"So you watched the Da Vince Code eh?"
"Who hasn't?"
"The password is `P.I.K.I.E.'"
Puzzled, Al clicked the five dials until they reflected the word. There was an audible click and the right side opened easily. Al tilted the cylinder and out slid a wand crystal. It was so beautiful, it refracted the light of the room and threw out the seven colours of the rainbow and more vivid shades in-between without even having to turn it. Al just sat and stared at its beauty, it was the first time he had seen the crystal in good light.
"Isn't there supposed to be a vial of vinegar inside?" Was all he finally managed to say.
"Is that all you can think about?" Greg chided him gently, "But yes, now lets go."
Al slid the crystal back into the Cryptex, jumbled the lettered dials and slid it into his pocket. As they walked at a brisk pace through the front door, Greg picked up his cellular phone and pocketed it.
They made their way down to the basement in silence. Getting out the elevator, Al remained a respectful step behind Greg for him to lead the way to his car. Arriving at the correct parking bay, Greg pressed his remote deactivating the alarm to a dark red almost, but not quite maroon Opel Astra. Still in silence, Greg drove them to he exit, pressed another remote and the roller-shutter gate cranked open. Turning onto the street they heard the sirens of approaching police, Greg pushed a little harder on the accelerator. They had barely gone 200 meters when a string of blearing police cars came streaming around the bend, heading in the direction from which they had come.
Here ends Chapter two of Crystal Deception. If you have any feed back I would like to hear from you. There are 2 more chapters on the way so if you enjoyed it, keep an eye out for them. GypsyRaven.