The Writings of Mary Lewys

The old, metal door buckled under her boot heel and the door jam splintered from the force of her kick. Inside the warehouse, the outline of boxes and crates filled the darkness. Her hands pulled two, clear bottles from the silk pockets on the inside of her trench coat. She brought the white cloth jammed in the bottles’ necks up to her lit cigarette and inhaled. Fire sprang to life right before her face.

Nerissa tossed both bottles through the open door. The glass shattered against the cement floor. Her homemade accelerant spread across the floor with flames following close behind. The
boxes and crates went up like kindling. By the time Nerissa flattened herself against the outer wall, the inside of the warehouse burned like Hades itself.

The first two bodies out the open door were pure flame. Within a few steps onto the wharf, the humanoid forms burst into ash. Their fire died out like Saint Elmo’s light in the mist. The next body out the door ran. Its face was distorted by its demon mask of ridged eyebrows and long, sharp incisors. As it raced down the dock, an arrow struck its chest where its heart would have been, had it had a human heart. It burst into dust.

“What the fuck?” Nathaniel grabbed his head as he watched two more run out of the burning warehouse. “Are you kidding me?”

From behind a crate nearby, Mel took aim. His straight arm dropped to bring the arrowhead into alignment with his target. But it was too fast; it slipped past the flying arrow to grab the boy. Nathaniel screamed. He bent in the creature’s hands as if made from dough before his father’s red glow grew around him.

It hissed as its grip slipped. A large, red hand encased its chest and began to squeeze. How dare you, contaminated, touch my son? You are not fit to clean my hooves.
Two more dashed from the flames to hide in the crates. In shadows, they hid easily. If they moved, they didn’t make a sound. Evie watched where they disappeared. She reached into one pocket for crumbled, black root. From a pouch on her belt, she scooped a deep red powder. From her vest pocket, she extracted a single, dried leaf with two fingers. She rolled the combination between her hands and whispered sweet nothings to it.

When her hands parted, two balls of flame hovered over her palms. She smiled. “Go.”

The burning spheres flew from her hand fast. One looped around the other as if nothing more than playful spirits, until their light drew the creatures from the shadow. Before they could move, the spheres hit their clothing with a force that engulfed the creatures. Within seconds, piles of dust were all that remained.

“Nathaniel!” From her place behind the rusted warehouse door, Nerissa cupped her mouth as she yelled. “As they come out, throw them into the air.”

“What?”

“Throw them into the air!” She raised her voice to be heard over the depot fire. Three more half-charred creatures dashed from the flames. Nathaniel and his father took two large steps to grab the first. As if picking dandelions, he popped the creature over his shoulder into the air. Mel’s arrow struck the flailing form in mid-flight. Only dust landed on the docks.

- More. Bring me more so I may crush their worthless existence. -

“Dad, for once, can we can the world global conquest talk and do the job?” Nathaniel floated in the center of his father’s protective form. He watched from within the glow of red as another creature flew over his head only to be met by a ball of fire.

- These are things for you to contemplate, my son. For when you are of age, my full vestige will walk the Earth. We will turn it away from the contemptuous Heaven and into our own Hellish domain. -

“Dad! Why is everything about you? What about me? Maybe I want to go to college or something.”

- You will possess all the knowledge you will ever need through our special bond. -

“Will you shut up?” He placed both hands over his face. Nathaniel’s shoulders sagged. “You’re embarrassing me.”

“So, any humiliating details you can share about your sister?” With a spin, Mel pulled his bow. His arrow was true and turned another flung creature into dust. He stopped within a few feet of the concurring Evie.

She threw her flame. “I’m sorry, but we haven’t met. How do you know I’m her sister?”

“It’s obvious, isn’t it? You look alike, same build, same determination”

“Fucker, if you don’t want your ball-hairs singed, I would never compare me to my sister again” Evie held the ball of fire in her hand until the last second. She grunted as she threw it at the creature that had managed to twist around in the air. It was poised to attack.

Mel dove. With his arm and shoulder, he moved Evie out of the way of falling flame and ash. His straightened arm and flattened hand stopped both he and Evie from crashing into the crate. While she gazed up at him, breathless, he watched as four more creatures rushed out of the blaze.

“Last ones by my count!” Nerissa placed her hand against the open door. The heat caused her to pull it away and shake it with warmed, pink skin. She blew on it as she shouldered the door closed. “Evie, ready the wave!”

Project 365 Short Stories by Mary Lewys is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.

The ember from her cigarette flickered in the darkness of the docks. The storage carts kept them all in shadow, hid from the light that hung over the warehouse door. Rusted tin walls held up its rusted tin roof. The sea air threatened to sink the depot through the rotted, wooden pier into the oil-slicked ocean. Nerissa tightened the knot on the belt of her coat against the mist as it rolled in from the water. She watched the door.

“You have got to be kidding me.” Nathaniel slouched into her peripheral vision. His black, baggy jacket hung off his slumped shoulders. He flipped his wispy bangs out of his face with a shake of his head. “Why am I meeting you here? This place is, like, nowhere. A dump. Is there a rave in there or something?”

“Doubtful.” When he leapt down from the stack of boxes, Mel landed as quiet as the shadow in which he stood. The black hood fell from his head. A hint of a bow peeked out from the black cape. Mel smiled at Nerissa before turning his steely-eyed scowl on the young man. “If we’re here, it’s for a mission. This is serious.”

“Serious?” Nathaniel snorted. He slouched in the way that only a teenager can and folded his arms over his chest. “Dude, I’m in it for the cash. What mission?”

“What’s the target?” She stepped around the corner of another crate. Evie wore a vest with bulging pockets to match her pants with many bulging pockets. Her hair was pinned back. In her hand, she twirled a long, wooden stake.

“Small nest.” Nerissa exhaled the smoke as she ground the cigarette into loose tobacco under the point of her boot. “Should be nine to thirteen by now. No more.”

“Small nest of what?” Nathaniel jammed his hands into pockets as he stopped slouching. He stared as if his eyes were metal and the ill-lit door was a magnet.

“Are these — ?” With a small nod towards the warehouse, Mel glided until he stood behind Nerissa. His question hung in the air with the fog and distant harbor horn. He watched her from over her shoulder take out the pack of cigarettes.

“Yeah,” she said around the cigarette screwed into her lips. Nerissa lit it from behind a cupped hand. She sighed. “You can take them all out except the head. I want the head.”

“Hang on, sugarbutts.” He glowered. Nathaniel actually frowned. “What are we talking about here? I’m confused.”

“Look, you just get into trouble and Daddy will come running. You’re lead.” Nerissa winked.

“And how are we going in?”

“We’re not.” Her heels clicked along the damp planks as she walked towards the haloed door. Her laughter was the kind that covered a great many sins, sins specifically for someone in her line of work.

Project 365 Short Stories by Mary Lewys is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.

“You shouldn’t be fucking smoking in here.”

“Kiss Mom with that mouth, Evie?” Nerissa flicked ash from her cigarette onto the cold cement floor at the base of the slate steps where she sat. She watched her sister sweep up the remains of her “sacred circle” of herbs and salt with a broom she’d found in the corner of the basement.

“What do you want?” Evie swept her sister’s ashes into the pile of heather, ague root, dirt and salt. She dropped the yellow plastic dust bin. It clattered against the floor.
The ember flared on the end of her cigarette as she inhaled deeply. Nerissa held her breath, turned her eyes to the lumber beams running along the ceiling, and exhaled a pillar of smoke. “I need your help.”

Her sister stopped and leaned against the broom. The straw sank under her weight. “No fucking way.”

“You don’t even know what I’m going to ask.”

“Yes, I do.” Evie picked the dust bin up before staring at her sister a while. She clucked her tongue before walking around the back of the stairs, past the white, front-loading washer and dryer, to a large, unlidded waste bin. It was grey much like everything else in the room. “I know you think I’m a moron, but I know what you do for a living.”

“It’s not surprising considering what you do for a living.” With the cigarette in the corner of her mouth, Nerissa pushed her wild and jagged hair around her head as she scratched her scalp with her short, painted nails. “Professional witch. How embarrassing is that? I cannot believe you had business cards printed up.”

“At least I have cards. Can I see one of yours?” Evie snapped the dust bin to the broom’s handle like she’d found it. She crossed to the corner where the cement basin of a utility sink met the beginning of the metal shelving unit. She leaned the broom and dust bin in the small space between the sink and wall. “Oh, I forgot. You’re all fucking super secret government bullshit.”

“I don’t know why you take it so personally.”

“Because it’s fucking bullshit is why.” Her black, combat boots stomped around until they met her sister’s designer boots, toe to toe. Evie put her hands on her hips and tilted her head up to look her sister straight in the eye. “It’s not like we both know what really goes on in the world, what’s really out there. Why you pretend you don’t know is beyond me.”

“Okay, this is me no longer pretending.” In a flash, Nerissa cupped her sister’s cheek. Her thumb stroked her make-up-free cheek. She smiled. “I need her help, Evie. Please.”

“What the fuck do you need me for?” The tender touch didn’t soothe her rough voice. Evie shifted her weight to one leg. Her eyes narrowed.

“I need you to do what you do best.” Nerissa took one more hit off her cigarette before she tossed it down on the man-made floor and crushed it out with the pointy toe of her boot. “I need your A game and everything you can carry.”

“For what?”

She turned and walked back up the stairs. Just as suddenly as she turned to leave, she spun back around. With her left hand, she pulled back the collar of her coat and dress shirt to show the large, web-like scar on her neck. “We’re going after the bastards that did this.”

Project 365 Short Stories by Mary Lewys is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.

“This should do it.” A circle of heather, salt and ague root, six feet in circumference, sat upon the cold cement floor. The damp, grey walls matched the floor. Set high in the wall, small rectangular windows let in the light of the late afternoon sun. Elongated patches of light dotted the basement, but not a one touched the circle or the dull, metal shelving units that lined the walls.

She stood in the center of the circle. Her black, combat boots rested ankle to ankle, with her green, military pants tucked in for good measure. From one of the multitude of pockets in her pants, she pulled out a white candle and a box of wooden matches.

“Okay, buddy, I hope you’re ready.” She wrapped her long black hair into a ponytail. She tugged at the thick, leather belt that held as many bags and containers as it could before sinking into an Indian-style sit. Her black, tribal tattoos absorbed the light from the match as it lit the candle.

She mumbled. Her hands rested palm to palm. When she closed her eyes, something under one of the shelving units, in the shadows, moved. The sound of small claws skittered along the cement.

She paused to take a breath. The dust motes moving through the streams of sunlight paused in their floating descent. A blue light haloed her hands. She spoke again the words of ancient, dead languages. An expanding ball of light forced her hands apart.

Eyes glowed red under a shelf with clear plastic containers filled with Christmas decorations. It hissed as it stared at the blue orb. She smiled.

A blue swirl of sparkles reached out from the orb to grab the glowing red eyes. It screeched and clawed at the floor. Its body was curved and hunched while covered in reddish brown hair. Yellow eyes sat close together above a mouth of sharp, pointed teeth. It looked at her and hissed.

“Too late for that, asshole.” Her hands drew further apart. The creature screeched again before popping into the blue sphere. As soon as it was trapped, she forced her hands together. She met resistance. Sparks flew. She gritted her teeth and pressed her hands together until the palms could touch. The ball of light flashed between her hands before disappearing.

“Nice.” From the stairwell leading down into the basement, she descended in designer boots. Sharp-pressed pants matched her pretty, white blouse. Her wild black hair matched her dark eye make-up and lipstick. “What was that?”

“Goblin.” She wiped her damp brow. Her breathing was labored, but she calmed with a few deep breaths. “What brings you down here, Nerissa? How did you know where to find me?”

“Me? I have my ways. What kind of sister would I be if I couldn’t find you?”

Project 365 Short Stories by Mary Lewys is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.

After passing under the black iron “City Park” sign arching over the opening in the high brick wall, Nerissa walked along the smooth, clean sidewalk. She stuck to the cement instead of wandering off into the grass. Graffitied park benches and dented garbage cans lined her path. A street lamp flickered off as the sky changed from a dull, carbon-filled orange to yellow. With her coat wrapped and tied tight at her waist, she sipped from a cup of coffee. She placed her cigarette between her lips and inhaled. The ember burned bright until she let go a long pillar of smoke.

She smiled. A woman with her hair pulled back and dressed in a shiny gym suit jogged past. Her blue earphone cords bounced against pink windbreaker. One face lift left her eyes narrow and almond-shaped. Nerissa spared her a glance whereas the jogger didn’t. She smirked as she took another hit from her cigarette. Up the path, where the curve in the sidewalk met the slope of the hill, a tall, old oak tree and thick undergrowth marred the horizon. The tip of her shoes stopped at the edge of the sidewalk. The ground just beyond her toes was turned in hopes of the new rows of flowers.

Her cigarette butt smoldered for a while in the fresh dirt until it died. She watched the hill. The early morning sun warmed her back. She waited.

Without a single movement in the underbrush, he appeared as a shadow. As he marched towards her, his fine features contrasted his heavy, huntsman coat. His walk was brisk and determined, with a hint of caution as his sharp eyes marked everyone and everything in the park. Nerissa smiled as he completed his scan.

He stood six inches taller than her. She reached up and pulled off his dark green hat. Long, thick blonde hair fell down around his narrow, sharp face and past the mantle of his coat. She smiled wider because he smiled. He brushed his knuckles down her face as he stepped into the dirt.

“You received my message?” She took his hand from her face and wove her fingers with hers.

“Yep.” He lifted his hand holding hers and kissed its back. He paused to notice the indented white mark on her ring finger. “Leave it to you to use a carrier pigeon.”

“Well, I don’t know where you’re living now.” With her free hand, Nerissa wrapped his silky hair behind the pointed tip of his ear. His ears matched the graceful curve of his cheek and brown eyes.

“Lexington and forty-fifth.” He chuckled in the same way birds sing for worms. “Second floor. Great view of this park.”

“Not bad for a half-breed.”

“Not bad for a half-breed.” His laughter petered out into a bittersweet sigh. He stared at her face for a moment.

“Is it time?” he asked.

“It’s time.”

“Finally.” He looked to the sky as a large, black bird flew over their heads. He squeezed her hand. “Anyone else coming along?”

“A few.” She reached up and stroked his cheek. “I need you for range and back-up. ”

“You’ve got muscle?”

Nerissa gave half a grin. “Yeah. More than enough, I hope.”

“Anyone else?” His eyes narrowed.

“One more.”

He kissed the back of her hand before leaning into kiss her cheek. “I’ll be ready. Call me. Stop with the stupid pigeons.”

“All right, Mellathion Shalandalan.”

“It’s just Mel. You know that. You can never get the accent right.”

Project 365 Short Stories by Mary Lewys is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.