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Authors: Nicole Peeler
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She’s also carrying enough Styrofoam trays of Starbucks to caffeinate a flotilla.
“Oh, hey,” she says, when she manages to get close to us. She’s been weaving quite a bit on her walk, and I’d chalked it up to her sandals on grass and her coffee burden. But once she’s close enough, I can see her eyes are three-quarters pupil.
“Hey there,” I say agreeably. “What’s going on?”
“Just getting the coffee. Am I late? Are you new?”
I grin happily at her. Thank the gods we’re dealing with a Master who takes Starbucks breaks. Too bad for the girls he’s less into them wearing clothes, as it’s chilly out. Her trench coat has gaped open enough to show she’s wearing yoga pants and nothing else.
“You could say that,” I say. “We’re here to talk to your Master.”
“Oh. Does he know that?”
“I think he might.”
“Oh. Should I get him for you?”
I nod to Moo, who’s crept up silently behind the girl.
“That you shall, honey. Now hold still; we don’t want to hurt you.”
Moo strikes, wrapping a powerful Alfar shield around the girl so fast it’s like she’s stepped in a bear trap. We manhandle the girl well away from the border of where everything goes “dead,” so we know we’re safely outside the gnome’s territory.
“Dude, the coffee,” is all the girl has to say for herself, as she forlornly gazes upon the spilled contents of the overturned cups. Her hat has also fallen off, and I belatedly recognize her as Brittany, one of the last girls to go missing. She’s lost a bit of weight in the cult and has chopped off her hair.
“I know, hon,” I soothe. “Now I want you to scream.” She looks at me with confused eyes, and I sigh. I really don’t want to have to hurt her, but desperate times…
I yank sharply on a lock of badly cut hair, and she shrieks. I do it again, and she shrieks again. At the same time, Moo uses her power to batter at the subtle shields surrounding the field. It’s less a polite knock on the door and more the pounding of an enraged giant.
It’s not long before we see movement in the field. There’s nothing creepier than people melting in and out of a cornfield, as the director of Children of the Corn knew very well. One minute someone can be there, but they can disappear with just a few movements.
“They’re there,” Moo says.
“Amplify me,” is my only response. Moo does it with her magic so my voice will carry.
“We’ve got something of yours,” I call. “Why don’t you come out and talk?”
I give another vicious tug on Brittany’s hair, and she shrieks obligingly.
More stalks rustle, hinting at hidden watchers.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are!” I boom. A pair of horns is suddenly floating above a row of corn, but Satan stays put.
“I knew it,” he says, his voice furious. “I knew she’d betrayed her Master.”
I frown, unsure how he knows about Shar but even more intent on getting her back.
“Hand her over,” I say. I refrain from adding, “Or the girl gets it.”
There’s more movement in the corn.
“Why would I do that? I relish the chance to punish this little bitch, as she deserves. As you interrupted.”
I shudder, hoping the punishment hasn’t gone that far. We hadn’t taken long to uncover the site and get over there.
But if that jackass has hurt Shar, he’s gonna pay.
“Come out and talk,” I say. We need to get him in our line of sight. We need to engage with him. Then we need to piss him off. Luckily, Triptych seems to specialize in pissing people off.
The horns bob, but Satan doesn’t show himself.
“Are you afraid?” I boom. Sure enough, that does it.
Satan appears at the edge of the cornfield, looking rather surly for a reputed fallen angel.
“Of course I’m not afraid. I am the Master!”
I yank poor Brittany’s hair. She shrieks again. The Master twitches.
“A real master would keep a better handle on his girls,” I say, initiating Operation Annoyance.
Satan
“Oh, hey,” she says, when she manages to get close to us. She’s been weaving quite a bit on her walk, and I’d chalked it up to her sandals on grass and her coffee burden. But once she’s close enough, I can see her eyes are three-quarters pupil.
“Hey there,” I say agreeably. “What’s going on?”
“Just getting the coffee. Am I late? Are you new?”
I grin happily at her. Thank the gods we’re dealing with a Master who takes Starbucks breaks. Too bad for the girls he’s less into them wearing clothes, as it’s chilly out. Her trench coat has gaped open enough to show she’s wearing yoga pants and nothing else.
“You could say that,” I say. “We’re here to talk to your Master.”
“Oh. Does he know that?”
“I think he might.”
“Oh. Should I get him for you?”
I nod to Moo, who’s crept up silently behind the girl.
“That you shall, honey. Now hold still; we don’t want to hurt you.”
Moo strikes, wrapping a powerful Alfar shield around the girl so fast it’s like she’s stepped in a bear trap. We manhandle the girl well away from the border of where everything goes “dead,” so we know we’re safely outside the gnome’s territory.
“Dude, the coffee,” is all the girl has to say for herself, as she forlornly gazes upon the spilled contents of the overturned cups. Her hat has also fallen off, and I belatedly recognize her as Brittany, one of the last girls to go missing. She’s lost a bit of weight in the cult and has chopped off her hair.
“I know, hon,” I soothe. “Now I want you to scream.” She looks at me with confused eyes, and I sigh. I really don’t want to have to hurt her, but desperate times…
I yank sharply on a lock of badly cut hair, and she shrieks. I do it again, and she shrieks again. At the same time, Moo uses her power to batter at the subtle shields surrounding the field. It’s less a polite knock on the door and more the pounding of an enraged giant.
It’s not long before we see movement in the field. There’s nothing creepier than people melting in and out of a cornfield, as the director of Children of the Corn knew very well. One minute someone can be there, but they can disappear with just a few movements.
“They’re there,” Moo says.
“Amplify me,” is my only response. Moo does it with her magic so my voice will carry.
“We’ve got something of yours,” I call. “Why don’t you come out and talk?”
I give another vicious tug on Brittany’s hair, and she shrieks obligingly.
More stalks rustle, hinting at hidden watchers.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are!” I boom. A pair of horns is suddenly floating above a row of corn, but Satan stays put.
“I knew it,” he says, his voice furious. “I knew she’d betrayed her Master.”
I frown, unsure how he knows about Shar but even more intent on getting her back.
“Hand her over,” I say. I refrain from adding, “Or the girl gets it.”
There’s more movement in the corn.
“Why would I do that? I relish the chance to punish this little bitch, as she deserves. As you interrupted.”
I shudder, hoping the punishment hasn’t gone that far. We hadn’t taken long to uncover the site and get over there.
But if that jackass has hurt Shar, he’s gonna pay.
“Come out and talk,” I say. We need to get him in our line of sight. We need to engage with him. Then we need to piss him off. Luckily, Triptych seems to specialize in pissing people off.
The horns bob, but Satan doesn’t show himself.
“Are you afraid?” I boom. Sure enough, that does it.
Satan appears at the edge of the cornfield, looking rather surly for a reputed fallen angel.
“Of course I’m not afraid. I am the Master!”
I yank poor Brittany’s hair. She shrieks again. The Master twitches.
“A real master would keep a better handle on his girls,” I say, initiating Operation Annoyance.
Satan
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