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Church of Bones	By : LuciferDragon Category: +M through R > Rise of the Guardians Views: 1334 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I own nothing in the Rise of the Guardians world, and I make no profit at all from this fiction. All in good fun.

Chapter List
- 8
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9.
I stopped the boy before he could enter the workshop below in the catacombs. "Before you go in there, you need to swear you won't flip out."
Jamie seemed nervous. "Why would I flip out?"
"You've seen elves, yetis, giant stone eggs, little eggs with feet, tiny tooth fairies, and Sandy's creations, as well as Pitch's Nightmares. Well, that's fine and all, but you need to understand there are more things out there, things that do bite back if they need to."
He visibly gulped and I couldn't help but laugh.
"Loosen up, Jamie, I said if they need to. Just don't take anything from them and nothing will happen." I fell serious again. "I need you to swear it. There are skeletons, shadow creatures, ghosts, and reapers running about in there. Hearing about it and seeing it are two different things. What is your reaction to that knowledge now?"
"A-a little thrown off knowing they do exist. Having a hard time believing though."
I smirked. "Oh child, you have no idea." I unlocked the latch and opened the door, ushering him inside. I quickly closed the door behind us, letting the hall become so dark I couldn't see my hand pressed up against my nose. "Up against that wall there should be an old torch." I heard his hand slide on the rough stone walls, and then the clunking of wood tapping on stone. "Good boy. Now hand it here. Follow my voice, come on—there you go." I took the torch from him and, with a bit of old magic, lit it on fire. Immediately the heat surrounded us and light shot up against the walls, revealing a narrow stairwell. "Since we can dip into the shadows, we don't really use the corridors. So trust me when I say watch your step."
I took the lead while Jamie followed closely behind me. It was a good thing I had cut myself off from his fear. I probably would have been able to satiate myself well off his fear alone. However, when I was in a fear high, it was, ah, usually a good idea that Pitch be around. Otherwise problems arose that I would have to deal with on my own, and that was never as much fun.
The noise of the workshop grew louder as we reached the end of the narrow stairwell, emerging into a dimly light area below the main room of the lair. Almost immediately I felt Jamie grasping on to my loose shirt. "This is Halloween, child. Welcome to my home."
He had to duck as a Shadowbat flew overhead, and sidestep out of the way of a Skel pushing a cart of carved pumpkins. "This is— Oh God, this is real?"
I arched a brow at him, crossing my arms behind my back. "What did you expect? Cute little black kittens?" I looked back as I felt at boney tap on my shoulder, but not before I saw Jamie's look of absolute horror. Behind me was a skeleton with some sinew still keeping him together, and still keeping a blue eye in. His jaw was also hanging on by a few strands of flesh still. "What is it, Mason?"
"Since you're down here, I wanted to know what you thought of a new idea," he said, his hanging jaw not moving as he spoke.
"Alright, let's hear it."
"What if we sent out Changelings this year? Give the parents such a fright." His boney fingers pressed together giddily as he cackled. "Can you imagine the expressions on their faces when they realize that their good children were replaced by wicked little demons?"
I frowned. "Mason, I'm surprised at you. Do you not realize the children would be eaten in the process?"
The equivalent of a frown formed with the hanging jaw. "Oh yes. My apologies."
I looked behind him as the specter of the Headless Horsemen paced, getting antsy. The soldier always showed up early for no reason, and then grew irritable with being stuck in the catacombs until I let them out. I think it was more to build up his frustrations and make him more terrifying in that small Sleepy Hollow. I snapped my fingers, a great idea hitting me. "What about the dullahans? I'm sure we've got quite a few of those wandering the war section of the catacombs."
"Yes Miss Eve, lots."
"Send them out to the cities, towns, and countrysides known for raising horses or have a history with horses."
He bowed. "Right away Miss Eve."
I watched the Skel walk off, shaking a fists at a Shadowbat that knocked into him, sending his jaw flying off then. His disembodied voice shouted out curses. Jamie stood by me, a gaze of pure curiosity gracing his face. "Dullahans?"
I gestured to the Horseman. "Something like him, though the horses were also decapitated. They're mainly from Irish lore, but I think Americans should have a taste of the spirits."
"What do they do?"
"If they pass you, they'll either blind one of your eyes or dump a bucket of blood on you. If they stop by you or call your name, you will be killed by him." I looked to Jamie as his face shifted to that of dread and I laughed again. "Don't think I'll send out the vicious ones. Wouldn't dream of it."
"You… but you're in charge of a day dedicated to scary things and dead things."
I held up a finger, pointing it at him. "Yes, but not death. She's an entirely different piece of work." I twirled that finger around my head. "She's a little crazy." I looked around, seeing no reapers around me. I gestured to Jamie, having him stoop down a bit. "Don't let the reapers hear that though, they do still work for her. Her and I have a mutual agreement."
"Which is?"
"She supplies me with spirits and reapers every Halloween and I don't kill her for trying to sleep with Pitch." I shrugged and turned around. "Not that she'd succeed, but still it was the fact she tried."
"What do you see in that guy anyway? From everything I know about him, he's not that nice of a guy."
I paused in taking a step forward. I didn't look back to him. "You wouldn't understand."
"Try me."
I looked on as a spirit passed by in front of me, rushing, actually, to scoop a female spirit into his arms. Apparently they had died at different times and could not find each other until this point. I gleaned that much from the sounds of excitement and of relief. "He saved my life a very long time ago. Things… things happened."
"Like Drago?"
"Drago's existence was never possible up until slightly over a decade ago." I nodded my head, indicating I wanted to keep going with the tour. "I had died, like Jack had. My internal organs, besides my heart and brain, they didn't work. Pitch, he never died."
"How is he the way he is then?"
"That story is not mine to tell. However, he never died. He came from a different world and was changed from a good man, to one that was a shell of his former self, possessed by evil spirits called Fearlings. Due to that, he still has more internal functions than I do. He can eat if he so chooses to eat real food. He only prefers to feed off fear since it is an easier solution. I can't eat. There's no way to digest anything. However, eleven years ago, my cycles began again."
"Eleven years ago…" I could almost hear him thinking. "That was when you all fought Lucifer, wasn't it?"
"Exactly right." I nodded. "Manny gave me a gift for cooperating with the Guardians. In essence, he gave the Boogeyman a gift as well. I think it shows he isn't bitter about the past. Again, not a story that I can tell." I navigated around a table of Skels training spiders. I shrugged. "It's been a very strange decade, but it's been interesting at least."
"Wait, so why was Death interested in Pitch? Haven't you guys been together, like, forever and a half now?"
"Ah, well, there was a century where we were split up. We had our reasons. Apparently he had a drunken fling after I left that wasn't serious. She took it serious though." I shrugged. "Once I found out she had attempted anything after we started seeing each other again, I found her while she was working and beat her within an inch of her own life." I flinched. "Not something I'm exceptionally proud of. Don't mention it to Drago. I'd rather not be a poor example for the boy. And it's not like I came out unscathed, I was pretty screwed up too." He still looked a bit skeptical. "She tried drugging him at a holiday party. Cupid did a stupid thing and gave her an aphrodisiac. If it were anything else I would have just laughed it off, but that was something else entirely."
Jamie shook his head as his expression changed to a certain understanding. He still looked around at all the decorations and things being put together in the chambers. "If that's the case, I'm not judging."
I turned back to him, arms outspread, willing to change the topic. "So, what do you think?"
He let out a grin. "No mummies?"
I scoffed. "What do I look like, an Egyptian grave robber? No, I don't do mummies. I don't house vampires, and I don't keep werewolves. I especially don't do werewolves. Too messy. Those three are on their own for Halloween. They keep in line enough, but I intervene if they go too far." I folded my arms. "So that's basically it. My Skels and Shadowbats keep everything in line pretty much all year long. It's been a good reprieve over the years trying to raise a little boy, but I'm getting back into it gradually not that he doesn't need as much attention." I saw his expression change slightly. "Jamie?"
He merely raised a shaking finger, pointing over my shoulder.
I looked and sighed a bit in relief. "Camen. What a lovely surprise. Do we have enough souls for our night?"
The reaper nodded, his glowing orange eyes shining from beneath his heavy shroud. "Yes, Miss Eve. And Lady Death sends her deepest apologies that this batch isn't the best she could get this week. She will try again next week."
I waved a hand in front of my face. "No worries. I'm sure we're fine enough as it is. "Thank you, Camen."
The reaper nodded again and glided away. I saw Jamie looking to the empty space between the ragged edge of the shroud and the ground. That, and the skeletally thin hands hanging from the cloth. "How would you like to carve a pumpkin, Jamie?"
He nodded. "Sounds good."
I led him to the far table where a few pumpkins were waiting to be carved. I frowned as I saw Drago's still sitting there. "Strange. He should have finished this."
"Who?"
"Drago. He was working on something a day or so ago. I had to send him out of the workshop before he could finish." I shrugged and sat Jamie down in front of a pumpkin still needing to be carved. "You know how to do this, right? Gut it and then carve it?"
He nodded. "That, and cut the top at an angle. Not my first pumpkin," he added with a sheepish grin.
I returned it. I could see why the Guardians had kept him as a pet for so long. He was easy to get along with, and accepted much that most people wouldn't. Once he had the top opened and began the process of gutting the pumpkin, I went to see what Drago was working on. I paused in my tracks as a shock went through me. Carved in the other side was a knife, an axe, a sword, and a gun, all around a howling dog. I didn't want Jamie to know anything was wrong so I merely covered the pumpkin with a cloth. "Wouldn't want it to wilt too fast," I said with a short chuckle.
Hessian formed out of the shadows, a sharp snort escaping his nose. "We have a problem."
I frowned. "What is it?"
"The globe. It's lighting up again."
A cold flash of dread washed over me. "Jamie, stay here." I sank into the shadows before he could argue and went into my office, looking at my globe from the viewing window. Sure enough, Pennsylvania was lit up again. "Oh shit…" I looked around for a moment, trying to gather my thoughts. The first clear thought that entered my mind was to grab a crystal from the shelves built into the wall next to me. I placed it in the holder and activated the shadows within it. I pinpointed the source of fear and tapped into the local news.
"… until the killer can be caught, residents are advised to be indoors before dark, and if they have to venture farther, they should never travel alone. New details have been released dealing with the death of Martha and Thomas Thackery of Burgess, Pennsylvania. Mrs. Thackery had been hacked to death with an axe taken from her garage. There are no signs of forced entry, meaning the victim knew her attacker. Mr. Thackery seemed to be guarding his wife until the last minute. The axe was left behind at the scene of the crime, however there is no evidence linking an outside source to the crime. Our thoughts and prayers go out to the Thackery family."
I looked up at the globe again, seeing the lights pulsing. "An axe… New Orleans… jazz music? What are the connections?" All at once it hit me like a ton of bricks. It had been so obvious. I looked through my shelves for a book of records of all serial killers in America, both solved and unsolved. I looked in the index and turned to the correct place. "Of course…"
Staring back at me was a bold headline from a newspaper article written in 1919. The article had come from a newspaper called the New Orleans Times-Picayune. I trailed my fingers over the letter the killer had sent in, exposing himself as a demon who enjoyed the sultry sound of jazz music. He was giving a time and place of when he'd go out and slaughter all those who were not listening to jazz music at the time. Hessian appeared at my side as I tapped the page. "We've got one of them. The Axeman of New Orleans."
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Church of Bones