Case File 2: The Profiler Chapter 3

Printer-friendly version

Author: 

Audience Rating: 

Publication: 

Genre: 

Character Age: 

Permission: 

Case File 2: The Profiler Part 3

As Megan and I drove to the address we’d pulled up, I had some questions, so I asked Megan, “How did this guy go from minor nuisance to all out super-villain ? "

“I suspect he has an artifact. Which could make things more dangerous for us but also for him.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Did you ever read the Lord of the Rings? In the book the wizard Gandalf says any of the mortal race who tried to use such an artifact would eventually be possessed by it.”

“You like Lord of the Rings?” I asked with a smile.

“Why not? It’s an excellent book.” Megan replied.

I smiled, and then said, “So if it is an artifact, what should we expect?”

“Depends on how much of Alan is left after a stunt like he just pulled. If Alan is getting tapped out, the artifact will be on the lookout for a new host. You must guard your mind carefully not to fall victim to it yourself.”

“Understood.” I stated, and we drove the rest of way in silence.

We got to the house, and of course it was shielded. I considered calling Conners, but before I could, Megan called out to me from the side of the house.

“Look here.” she said, a small hole in the shield, and a mouse hole into the house.”

“Too bad we aren’t mouse-sized.” I said.

“We could be. I can temporarily transform us both. Long enough to get inside without alerting Alan by bringing down his shield.”

“Okay, do it.” I said.

A few moments later, we were a couple of small white mice, and we slipped through the hole in the shield and entered the mouse hole.

We made it inside, and were in the kitchen when Megan’s spell wore off, and we were ourselves again. Megan pointed to a door, saying “There. He’s in there.”

I nodded, and kicked in the door.

But I pulled up short when I saw what was inside.

Alan was there sitting on his bed, but he wasn’t going anywhere. He looked like a famine victim, almost completely skeletal covered by paper thin skin.

In front of him on a pedestal was a large red gem.

Then the gem spoke, saying “I wondered who would come. Hello, Joseph. I’m glad it’s you they sent, because your power is so similar to mine.”

“So that’s why you attacked the dance. So we would come after you?”

“Of course. This body is soon to give out, and I was going to need a replacement anyway, so why not a powerful one such as yourself?”

“No chance.” I said, firmly, “I use my gift for the good.”

“Oh, but I could help you do good. I could give you enough power to build a better world. A world without crime, or hunger, or hate.”

I felt my willpower slipping, but I managed to say, “A ... world without freedom, you mean. Not ... interested.”

The next thing I knew, the almost skeletal arm of Alan had me by the throat, and was dragging me closer to the gem.

The gem said, “Say yes, now. Or I will take you anyway, and use you to make those you care for suffer.”

And in the gem, I saw a vision of myself doing just that - torturing my teammates with the gem’s power while my mind and soul watched helplessly.

I was about to break, to take the gem, when suddenly, the hand on my throat fell to the floor, severed at the wrist.

“Not today, Mordred.” Megan said, and then she took the sword she had manifested to save me, and pierced the center of the gem, shattering it.

There was an unholy wail, and then the body of Alan fell over, dead.

Megan held the sword up like she was saluting someone, and said, “Thank you, Excaliber.”

The sword seemed to flash a bright light in response, and was gone.

The two of us walked out of the house, and I asked, “Mordred? Like Arthur's son from the stories?”

Megan nodded. “As soon as I saw the gem, I knew for sure it was him. His body died when he and Arthur killed each other, but he must have transferred his soul to the gem at the last moment. So I managed to keep myself from being seen by him, while he focused on you, until I could summon Arthur’s sword to save you.”

“Where did it go?” I asked.

“To wait for the right person to wield it.” She said.

“Not you?”

“No. I could use it this once, because you could say it owed me a favor. But my soul is far too dark to use the blade. Only someone pure of heart can.”

“Okay.” I said. “Let’s go back to headquarters, I have a report to write up.”

“I’ll help.” Megan said, and we drove into the night.

End.



If you liked this post, you can leave a comment and/or a kudos!
Click the Thumbs Up! button below to leave the author a kudos:
up
52 users have voted.

And please, remember to comment, too! Thanks. 
This story is 841 words long.