Jericho

Chapter five

Lorelei

A heavy downpour of warm rain washes over the city of Portland, bringing with it a thick stench that lingered in my nostrils; petrichor from the moistened earth, tainted by the roads coated in motor oil. Making my way down the sidewalk illuminated by both streetlights and traffic, I am not spared the wrath of the storm as it desperately attempts to wash away the foul byproducts of urban life. My clothes have been soaked through since the arrival of the storm a little over an hour ago; the black and white hooded jacket I put on for protection doing little to shield me in the long run. The once warm rain, aided by the slight breeze, quickly dispatched what little body heat I had left.

Wiping the strands of my wet silver hair out of my face, I scanned ahead of me, letting out a sigh of relief as my destination came into view. Moments later, I approached a derelict building; coming face to face with the sorry-looking establishment; its eroded brick structure coated in a thick layer of chipped yellowish-green paint, the solitary boarded up window adjacent to an extended archway. About a foot, beyond the archway, a rotting red door with white trim waited for me. I looked up above the archway to see a red holographic projection reading “The Hideout” the projection appeared to be in disrepair as well, the word “The” as well as the “out” in hideout flickered on and off frequently, leaving only the word “Hide” still visible.

“Yup, this is the place. Just how I remember it.” I said to myself before I made my way to the door and opened it; the swollen wood causing the door to stick a bit at first before swinging open with a soft thud. As the door opened, a foul odor smacked me in the face, causing me to recoil, retching as I hastily covered my nose. “Yup smells the same too.” The room smelled vile, a mixture of unwashed bodies, vomit, and urine combined with the mustiness of the dilapidated room created a nauseating aroma that hung thick in the air that clung to all it touched. After the tears welling in my eyes ceased to flow and I regained my composure, I looked around the room.

The walls inside didn’t appear to have fared much better than the ones outside, but at least they were spared the awful choice of color and were instead a more natural red. The room was near empty, five sets of banged-up square metal tables absent of patrons were strewn across the small room. Ahead of me at the opposite end of the seedy establishment was the bar; funnily enough, it appeared to be the only properly maintained thing in that place. It was dark mahogany with intricate carvings towards its base. Four stools lined up in front of it; two of the stools were occupied by dejected-looking individuals spaced one stool apart from each other. Clothed in shabby rags with somber expressions, and overgrown matted hair and beards led me to believe they were quite possibly homeless.

I made my way towards the bar, the decaying wood floor creaked and buckled slightly under my weight, giving me the impression that they could snap at any moment. As I approached, getting ready to take a seat at the bar next to one of the men who clearly had more than his fill of libations for the evening. Slumped over on the counter of the bar, loud guttural snoring emitting from his gullet. I took the sopping rucksack off my back, dropping it next to the stool with a loud clatter; I slid the stool out and took my seat next to the unconscious drunk who stirred briefly at the sound before returning his wobbly head to the counter.

Being much closer now, the pungent odor of urine became much stronger; I leaned over, sniffing to the left of me. My eyes trailed down to beneath him and I could see a pool of liquid below him. Droplets of fluid dripping from his pant leg confirm my suspicion, although part of me naively hoped it was rainwater and not incontinence brought on by the man’s stupor. “Well, well, well.” I hear a delicate voice call out from the right of me; looking up to spot the source of the noise, I see a man walking back towards the bar from a door on the western wall swinging shut behind him. Between the run-down building and dingy vagrants, he seemed out of place in the cesspool he currently resided in.

He was tall and thin, his slicked raven black hair pulled back into a ponytail, flawless tan skin absent of any blemish or imperfection; dressed in formal attire, a crimson red vest draped over a rose-pink long-sleeved shirt with a black tie tucked under the vest, and black slacks with matching dress shoes. After gracefully making his way back behind the bar, he stood in front of me, his piercing emerald eyes locking with mine. “The lost pup returns.” He stated before eyeing me up and down, tutting as he does. “And looking like a drowned rat no less.” He leans on the counter bringing his face closer to mine. “On the run again huh, what happened this time?” his supple voice asked, laced with antagonistic purpose.

“Shut it, Nicodemus, I’m not in the mood for your sass tonight.” I said, pulling off the hood of my jacket; running my fingers through my hair to push it out of my face. Nicodemus giggled as he snapped back upright, smirking down at me.

“Well, you’re no fun, Lorelei. It’s a shame; I do so look forward to our banter whenever you decide to drop by.” He said, making his way to the opposite end of the bar, collecting empty bottles and glasses.

“Yeah, well I don’t much feel like bantering it up right now.”

“It’s that bad, huh? You’re normally a little spitfire.” He said in response, having finished collecting the empty vessels and bringing them towards the sink on the opposite side of the counter. It was bad. My father and I had gotten into arguments before, but they had been getting worse lately. I’m not proud to say it, but when things get heated between us, I tended to need to cool off and get away; going on the run for a little while, vowing to never go back, to wash my hands of him, my clan, and their endless conflict.

That’s actually how I found this place back in the day; I was sixteen at the time and it was the first time I ran away. My clan happened to be in Oregon at the time, making camp in the woods near Cherry Grove. Funnily enough, I can’t even remember what the argument was about; but more than likely it was caused by my protest of the inevitable fate I was linked to. A week or so later, I found myself in Portland, homeless and destitute, staring adversity in the face but too stubborn to concede and return to my clan.

That’s when I met the witch Camilla. To this day, I still don’t know how she knew what I was; perhaps she didn’t, and simply couldn’t turn a blind eye to a child in need. Regardless, she brought me here for sanctuary where I stayed with her for a little while, before my father managed to track me down and brought me back to the clan. Since then, I have seen this place as a refuge. One of my sacred places to go to whenever I was in the area and needed an escape from my fate. Suddenly, I heard a thud as Nicodemus sat down a whiskey tumbler, the heavy base of the glass colliding with the wooden counter snapping me out of my thoughts and back into the present.

“Let’s get a little fire back in your belly; then ole Nikki will take you into the back to get cleaned up, huh?” He suggests withdrawing an unlabeled bottle of crystal-clear liquid from underneath the bar; the cork pops as it is pulled from the top. He pours a generous amount of the mystery liquid into the glass in front of me. Resealing the bottle, he sets it on the counter before sliding the glass closer to me. “There you are, drink up.” He says insistently. I eyed the glass hesitantly. I’m not much of a drinker; truth be told, I thought alcohol tasted foul and I didn’t much care for the way it dulled my senses. But this is one of those nights where dulling them might just be what the doctor ordered.

Picking up the glass, I attempted to slam the drink down my gullet; the taste, however, was far worse than I had imagined. It was reminiscent of rubbing alcohol; instantly stifling my gag reflexes, causing me to choke. The burning sensation in my throat from the alcohol was almost unbearable but not half as bad as the burning in my nose; alcohol had made its way up there during my coughing fit and currently dripped out onto the bar.

“Oh god, that’s terrible!” I exclaimed before wiping my face with the sleeve of my jacket. Nicodemus, delighted by my suffering, cackled uncontrollably, looking as though he was about to topple over. “What the hell was that?” I inquired, grabbing the glass once more and inspecting its contents with a grimace before pushing it back towards him.

“Don’t worry, it’s not poison or anything like that, just a little vodka.” He responded, picking the glass up and downed the rest in one mighty gulp, unaffected by the taste of the liquor.

“Hey, could I get one of those down here?” the man at the other end of the bar asks; his words slurred together into an almost unintelligible mess.

“Oh honey, we both know you’re out of money, why don’t you come back tomorrow night, huh?” Nicodemus replies shrewdly, making his way back to the sink to rinse out the glass.

“Come on; don’t be like that just one more for the road.” The drunk pleaded, trying to coax Nicodemus, who by now had made his way back towards me, clean glass in hand. He reached under the bar and pulled out a soda gun. Holding it over the glass, he pressed one of the many buttons; the gun's nozzle sputtered and hissed as he began to fill the glass with a clear and fizzing beverage.

“Sorry doll no can do. This place isn’t exactly raking it in; can’t be giving every blue-eyed beauty that walks in here free drinks now, can I?” He remarked, obviously referring to me; setting the drink down in front of me with a sly smile, winking at me before turning to face the customer.

“That’s bulls**t, you just gave her a free drink; I want one too!” The man snaps at Nicodemus, his demeanor quickly shifting to one of hostility. “What is it because she has t**s? Aren’t you gay?” He continued, standing up from the stool. The man was clearly three sheets to the wind and not in his right mind. He wobbled from the strenuous effort to just pull himself to his feet, placing his hands on the counter as he tried and steady himself, belching gutturally.

“Why, are you interested?” Nicodemus asked, his arms crossed across his chest, and his head c****d to the side, eyeing the man up and down, biting his lip seductively.

“What? No, no.” He stammered with a look of bewilderment. As he tried to gather his thoughts, Nicodemus moved closer, cooing mockingly.

“Oh sweetheart, there’s nothing wrong with that, you don’t gotta pretend. I’ll tell you what, why don’t you go home, chop off that mop top, and shave that dead rodent off your face; perhaps shower for the first time in what smells like weeks, and lastly loose about fifty or so pounds.” Nicodemus reaches out patting his bloated belly. “Maybe I’ll let you take me out to breakfast, and rock your world with how fabulously gay I am.” Nicodemus proudly stated leaning his face closer to his, kissing the air mere inches from his lips. I sat watching, engrossed by the spectacle, as I sipped on the lemon-lime flavored soda; wondering to myself if the drunken man’s flushed cheeks were due to bashful embarrassment, or unbridled rage.

My answer came swiftly as the man shoved Nicodemus away.

“Screw you; I’ll get the damn drink myself!” He exclaimed as he began to reach across the bar.

“Oh honey, I really wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Nicodemus says with a wicked smile on his face. The drunk reaches below the counter, feeling around for his ill-gotten prize.

“Shut the hell up you d**n-.” His words are cut short as he is jerked violently forward by an unknown force slamming into the bar. The drunken man tugs back while simultaneously trying to push himself away from the counter with his other hand. As his arm came back into view, a look of horror came across his face as he saw it was not the only arm that emerged from behind the counter.

He was being held by a massive hand that engulfed his forearm; thin fingers tipped with nails reminiscent of ice picks. As the hand continues to emerge, lifting his arm above his head. I can see it is attached to a spindly pale arm, impossibly strong for how thin and weak it looked; evident by the large man’s failed attempts to break free, or even budge it from its course. As the monstrous appendage held the man’s arm over his head, a second arm emerged from behind the counter, drawing his attention to it.

As his inebriated brain finally processes the situation, he looks as though he is about to scream; but his chance to call for help is quickly stolen from his lips as the second arm lunged forward with lightning-fast speed. The hand enveloped his face, its thin claws digging into the back of his neck. He starts to kick and desperately flail as the arms lift him into the air. Stunned by the unexpected turn of events, I jumped off of the stool, unsure of what the hell I was witnessing. His long-winded, muffled screams begin to die out from a lack of oxygen due to his mouth and nose being covered.

I saw the front of the bar where he sat begin to contort and open. It split open impossibly wide, revealing intertwining long needle-like teeth on both the top and bottom like a Venus flytrap. Its fleshy, cavernous maw studded with dagger-like teeth down past its throat; four prehensile tongues slid up from its narrow throat. The tongues whip around wildly as they extend closer to this thing's prey. Suddenly, as if they had just locked on to their victim; they lash out, each wrapped around a different part of his body.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the passed-out man I’d been sitting next to starting to stir at the commotion. Worried that this could mean he would become this thing's next meal if he disturbed its current one. The thing by instinct realizes it is about to be spotted. Quickly pulls the man into its mouth, forcing him down its throat; folding him backward in half with a sickening crack as its tongues drag him down the nightmarish pit, shredding his skin on the teeth lining its throat as it does. And as quickly as it had begun, it was over, the arms retracted back into hiding; and the thing’s mouth closed, sealing itself back up and becoming indistinguishable from an ordinary counter once more.

The groggy man by this point is sitting upright and looks around for the source of the disturbance he had heard; first in the direction of where the man had been eaten alive just seconds ago, then towards Nicodemus, who smiles and waves nonchalantly, and finally to me, standing behind him with a dumbfounded expression plastered on my face. He and I lock eyes for a moment before he turns back around, laying his head on the counter and quickly falling back asleep. I continue to stand in place at a loss for words.

“ OK.” I said aloud as I raised my hands in disbelief, pausing for a moment. “What the hell is that thing, Nikki?” I said, pointing at the counter.

“You like it? It’s just a little something I cooked up a while ago.” He responded, making his way back towards the counter. I knew Nicodemus was magically inclined, and that he specialized in enchantments, but I had never in my wildest dreams imagined he could create something like that. “He comes in handy, you know how many bottles have been swiped while I’m in the back smoking? That s**t is watered down, not free.” he states as he caresses the counter. A low creaking could be heard emanating from the thing as if it were purring under his touch; and out the corner of my eye, I could swear I saw its mouth parting slightly.

“That’s pretty f***ed up Nikki.”

“I know, right? Some people just have no class.”

“No, I mean you creating a monster to eat people alive for stealing watered-down booze.” Nicodemus shrugged off the statement before turning to his left and starting to walk out from behind the bar.

“Bygones, Lorelei, bygones, come on, let’s get you cleaned up. I’m sure Camilla will be happy you dropped by.” I took a few steps forward to grab my bag. Now wary of the monster lurking in plain sight, I make a mental note to never sit at the counter again. Shouldering my bag, I turned to head through the door Nicodemus had come through earlier. Exiting the dingy room, I entered a narrow hallway that turned to the left immediately after walking through the door. It was slightly better maintained than the rest of the building, albeit not by much. But I was relieved to find that the pungent odor was gone and had been replaced with the pleasant smell of Lilac and Jasmine.

The hallway itself was unremarkable and left much to be desired; just a brick hallway that led back to a dead end with two additional doors evenly spaced apart on the right-hand side. Following Nicodemus down the corridor, he turned to walk through the first of the two doors and disappeared from view. As I approached the door and looked inside after him, it was just a storage room; boxes of alcohol and other various supplies were organized on a series of metal shelves. Nicodemus was making his way towards one of the shelving units on the wall opposite the door. Reaching the shelf, he grabs a small clean white towel before turning his head to look at me.

“Yeah.” He says, the word stretching as it leaves his lips. Realizing the solitary towel would do little to help my soggy state, he rotated his head back around grabbing a stack of the towels. Turning around, he made his way towards me, handing me the towels. “These might work.” I took the towels from him and nodded.

“They will be fine, beats drip-drying anyway. Thanks, Nikki.” I said appreciatively. Stepping back to let him through, I grabbed one from the top of the pile and started drying my dripping hair.

“Don’t mention it. Besides, who says I’m helping you out of the goodness of my heart?” he stated cheekily, flashing me a mischievous smirk; he walked past me and continued to the back of the corridor. “Word through the grapevine is you’ve turned into quite the bad b***h. Lorelei, the rebellious Daughter of Reinhardt Synder, alpha of the Storm-caller clan.” He says eccentrically, flourishing his hands in the air. I began following him as he continued. “And not just the alpha's daughter either. From what I hear, you are one of their fiercest warriors. And considering your clan gets their rocks off by being a thorn in the side of Jericho and Anubis, while the rest of us avoid them at all costs.” As he reached the end of the corridor he stopped, turning to face me as he finished. “I’d say you’re someone you stay on the good side of. You never know when it could pay off.” Having just finished drying my hair, I threw the wet towel, hitting him in the face with a wet smack.

“You also don’t know when it could blow up in your face.” I japped. He chuckles as he pulls the towel off his face, dropping it to the floor.

“True, but what’s life without a little gambling here and there?” He winks at me before turning to face the wall. His eyes began glowing softly and before long they emitted a bright light. As he focuses on the wall, I can see the bricks starting to shift as they are enveloped in green light. They pulled themselves from the wall and began to erode rapidly as if they were passing through time at an alarming rate. Before long, they crumbled, turning to dust; as the dust dispersed, lined the walls of the corridor, it revealed a hidden elevator. Stepping forward, I opened the metal fence. I stepped inside the elevator and turned to face Nicodemus once more. Closing the fence, I pressed the arrow down and said farewell.

“I’ll see you around Nikki.” He simply nods as he maintains focus on the wall, and as the elevator starts to lower, I can see the dust reforming into bricks and sealing the hidden passage once more.