*Hey y'all. It was nice to have a break with no dangling story threads to worry about.
This story was one I had cooking for the Halloween story contest, but it took me a few extra months to finish it. For anyone who has read my 'Bottom Tier' stories, this is more of that format.
This story, as it stands alone, is a complete story with a beginning, a middle, and an end. If I never wrote another chapter of it again, I wouldn't feel guilty.
That being said, I feel like I'm not quite done with Willem and Isaac.
Please enjoy!
All Characters are 18+*
*
"The unfinished house has been reported to be 'haunted' because of the abnormally high rate of accidents within. Four men have been injured in the wreckage, which doesn't seem unusual, but the odd thing is that these only seem to happen at night, when the men weren't even supposed to be in the building, weren't even on duty."
Willem was in a bar, so he watched the scrolling black subtitles under the woman's earnest face to get the news story. The woman's face was occasionally replaced with pictures of the building, a derelict old house with peeling blue paint and a sagging roof. And then again to a hospital, showing the four injured men with their faces blurred.
Willem couldn't be sure without seeing the faces, but he thought he could see some of the telltale signs. He reached for the bowl of pretzels and popped the stale snacks in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. The screen was reflected in his pale grey eyes.
"The company in charge of construction has told us that there has been some untoward behavior, drinking and partying in the ruins at night, and that any injuries are the fault of this behavior. However, we have testimony from a worker who will be referred to as 'C', who states that each of the men was in the building alone, while the injuries occurred. This is Laurie Dhue, from Fox News."
Willem rolled his eyes. Fox was bound to report it wrong, but it wouldn't kill him to look. Activity was rare in the small town that he lived in, but Minneapolis was only an hour's drive away. If it really was something above and beyond human stupidity, maybe Willem could do something to help.
It would only be a little while until the deaths started, if it really was what Willem thought it was.
Willem glanced around the bar. It wasn't a loud flashy bar, but just a quiet hole in the wall where men could meet and hook up. Willem knew most of the regulars, but there was a sweet young thing at the other end of the bar, looking around nervously and nursing a beer.
He had to be one of the kids from the college, sneaking away to the next town over to avoid being seen. He had shaggy brown hair and slim shoulders. He was dressed in jeans and a button-down shirt and converse sneakers. He seemed to be trying to take in everything at once with his wide green eyes.
Willem moved over and sat next to the young man, who glanced at him, startled. Like a rabbit in a den of weasels.
"Buy you a drink?" Willem said smoothly, gesturing to the beer glass, nearly empty.
"Um, sure?" The kid couldn't have seemed less sure. He was eyeing Willem warily. Willem just gave his most charming smile and gestured for the barkeeper.
"Top off this young man's drink, and give me a Cuba Libre."
The drinks were in front of the pair in less than a minute. Bud Lite, and coke and rum with lime. Willem took a sip of his drink and started to talk to the young man, who loosened up slightly. The young man's name was Maxwell.
It was getting to be about eleven when Willem put his hand on the young man's shoulder for the first time. "Tomorrow is a Saturday, do you have any obligations?"
Maxwell glanced at the older man that had approached him in the bar. There was something about Willem that he couldn't put his finger on. Something frightening. Physically, he was just a tall slim man with dark red hair and a great smile and sexy grey eyes. Good looking, with a nice physique and a touch of chivalry, buying the drinks and acting the gentleman. He should have been all over the guy.
But Max just couldn't shake the feeling that there was something off about Willem.
"I'm very sorry." The young man murmured, getting up. "I... I have somewhere I need to be tomorrow. Here."
Maxwell was fumbling money from his wallet, blushing bright red.
Willem sighed. "You've had a bit to drink. Let me call you a cab. No, no keep your money. I had a nice time and a nice talk."
Willem made sure to see the tipsy boy into a cab and back to the college. He was in a darker mood than he appeared. All he could think about was the stream of handsome faces that had hesitated before coming to his bed, or made sure to get away after they had slept with him once.
He was an attractive man, a kind, intelligent, and successful man. Modesty wasn't his strong point, but he knew that he was good in bed.
But he always drove them away. They could always sense that something wasn't quite right.
Willem walked out to his car. He had nursed one drink all night long and wasn't feeling the effects. He started to drive north to Minneapolis. He was angry, and he hoped that there really was a demon in that house. He wanted to take out his anger on something.
---
Eli Burns had shut down the construction site. The injuries were more baffling and complex than anyone knew. He had shut down the construction site after the first two incidents, but another of his men had wandered in late at night, and the most recent attack was on a local homeless man.
Nobody but the police and the contractor knew that they were attacks.
The four men in the hospital had each lost a huge impossible amount of weight in one night. Almost forty pounds on one of them. They all had burn marks around their lips and genitals and eyes. The last man hadn't yet woken up, and the other three remembered nothing.
Eli Burns knew that it wasn't his fault. The first had been deemed a freak accident and the entire foundation had been searched, safety and security had been tightened, and hours had been reduced. After the second attack he had stopped the project indefinitely.
He had reacted properly, and yet if the attacks continued, he would turn into the scapegoat. He already knew that the media was trying to pin it on him, making it seem as if construction had continued after the horrible injuries.
He heard a knock on the door of his office and checked the clock. It was after midnight. Who the hell was here after midnight? Burns was here for the overtime himself, knowing that it might be a while before he got paid at all, much less overtime.
"If you're with the press, television, radio, anything at all, fuck off. No comment, no trespassing."
He thought that whoever had come knocking had left, but then he heard a soft male voice. "How long did the comas last? It's hard to get information from the hospital."
Eli Burns froze.
"I didn't commit the crimes, if that's what you're thinking. But I know that I can stop them."
"Who are you?" Eli snarled, grasping his company-issued cell phone in his hand, ready to flip it open with his thumb.
"My name is Willem, and I'm afraid you might have an infestation. With creatures like this, it only takes one or two to qualify as an infestation. I'm something of an exterminator."
Burns wanted to flip open the cell phone and call the police badly. But something in the man's voice reassured him.
"Trust me. You don't have to see me, or speak to me again, but I can get rid of your problem. I just need some information."
"Why should I trust you? You could be the attacker! What do you want, money?"
"I am not the attacker, and no, I do this service for free. Just tell me what you know about the victims so I can know what I'm dealing with. I don't need to know names or phone numbers. Just the gender, age, and symptoms."
Eli relaxed slightly, keeping his hand on the phone.
"Three construction workers and one bum. All were men. Forty-year-old hispanic fellow, thirty-eight-year-old white guy, twenty-six-year-old white guy. The bum was black, and they don't know his age. Each of them was in a coma for three to five days after their attack, and they all had burns on their eyelids, mouths, tongues, and dicks. They don't remember anything, not even the day before they were attacked, and the bum still hasn't woken up."
"Thank you, I'll take care of your problem now. If you call the authorities, and trust me, I'll know if you call them. I wont."
Then the voice was gone.