BI – Chapter 6: Mana Trap (Patreon)

Rio

I damn near jumped out of my skin and screeched as I turned around to see a small, thin man. 

“Jesus, don’t do that!” I screamed before quirking a puzzled eyebrow at him. He must’ve come in the side door. Samuel looked as confused as I felt, as neither of us had seen the man enter the room. 

He seemed vaguely familiar, like I should’ve been able to place him—someone I used to know well but had forgotten.

“Apologies,” he replied. “Wouldn’t want to frighten you.” 

“Who… who are you?” I asked, genuinely baffled by his appearance. 

He was dressed oddly. He had short black hair that jutted out from beneath a bowler hat, and his skin was an unnaturally pale white. He wore a poofy flannel shirt that looked more at home in a Renaissance Fair. He had a mustache and beard, both beginning to go grey. 

Something about him seemed painfully familiar, and yet the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end at the sight of him.

“You don’t remember me, stick legs? I hear you've become a magistrate now, but I’ll always remember when you were the tallest girl on the team.” 

Magistrate? That was an odd way to refer to a mayor. Stick legs… that sounded familiar, but I had significantly more pressing issues. He’d have to wait.

“I’m sorry, but there’s an emergency right now. Could you maybe stop in later? I’ll have some more time after…” I trailed off. Would I ever have more time? 

“Oh, I won’t be a bother. I’ll just stay for a while, shall I?” 

Something felt foggy. A sense of wrongness plagued me, like a missed question on a test that I only realized I’d answered wrong after turning it in. A budget improperly calculated… 

…A bullet off target.

“I guess that’s no problem,” I said. “We’d be glad to have you Mister…?”  

The man smiled, and his mouth stretched just a tad too wide. “You really don’t remember? I’m Polkiss. Edgar D. Polkiss, if you please.” 

That name hit a memory. 

“Oh god, Coach P! I haven’t seen you in years! I hardly recognized you!” I said as a veil fell into place. I could feel it even as I spoke. My mind was in a daze, a constant feeling of certainty warring with a jarring fear at that name. 

My basketball coach in High School? Yes… I remembered now! Edgar P! He’d been my favorite! Why had he introduced himself so strangely? Did he think I’d forget? I really didn’t have time to catch up with him, but it was great to see a friendly face when everything was falling apart. He’d always been a rock when life was rough back then.

There was something deeper though. Something stronger. A voice from a place where reality was warped. ‘Polkiss… Lash of the Dark.” 

“I see that you’ve been having some trouble. Would you like a bit of help? I know this crisis is a bit larger than training for basketball but I’m sure I can guide you through it as well. Does that sound good?” 

I beamed at him, sure that he would make all of this better. He’d come to help, and everything was going to be okay. 

Then I drew my pistol and shot him in the face.

The man’s body tumbled against the wall, his face caving inward in a sickening display, but not of blood or viscera. Instead, it warped into darkness. A hole in reality made of that pulsing, disgusting mana that I’d felt inside the metal slab. 

Simultaneously, the veil lifted. Shallow memories placed in my mind like puzzle pieces that didn’t fit, began to reorganize themselves. 

I didn’t know this man. How could I have ever thought I did? 

The dead man chuckled, his voice surprisingly unaffected by the bullet he’d eaten. The voice sent shivers down my spine as the effect on my mind faded. He reached up to the arm of a chair and pulled himself back to his feet, the churning void still spinning. 

I didn’t let him get up any further and shot him four more times. New holes in reality formed in the body, black wisps seeping out of the man. Soon, his whole body began to crumble, like a sandcastle slowly falling into an indistinct mound. His body spilled from the edges, reality falling into the dark whirl. All the while, a strange laughter echoed.

Fifteen gold coins dropped from the air when the last of the body dissipated. The lights seemed to brighten when the demon was fully gone, surprising me as I hadn’t even noticed the difference.

“What the…? Ma’am, what did I just see?” Samuel asked. “He was my uncle. I was so sure!”

“A demon. Or a part of one, contained in the bridge’s metal,” I replied. “Fucking hell, of course it wouldn’t be so easy we could just push the mana out. It’s probably all trapped like this...”

The doors suddenly burst open as a guard came in, gun at the ready. Two more followed him as fast as they could run. He immediately scanned the room but didn’t find anyone but Sam and me.  

“Stand down, officers. Threat’s passed,” I said, hoping I wasn’t lying. That trap had been insidious. I wasn’t sure I’d have even realized there was one if the demon hadn’t used the same name Luca had given me.

Edgar D. Polkiss.

My eyes widened as I remembered the discovery I’d had just before the demon had appeared. The metal. A classer could prevent the collapse. Any classer could probably do it, but it seemed like anyone who tried might have to be ready for mind games and traps. 

I shuddered. Even now, I could still feel the memories of my old coach, lingering there like a slowly dissipating tumor.

“Come on, Sam. We’ve got to get a message out. Classers can restore the metal if they can get to the bridges before they collapse. I need Paula, and I need her yesterday.” 

“Y-yeah. I mean, Yes, Mrs. Tande,” he said, composing himself. 

I took a second look at him, wondering how he’d managed to find the time to change the duck tie.