Harvey Loveless Mysteries 1: On the altar

The woman was still screaming when I burst through the door. Of course she was, what else could you do when tied to an altar and surrounded by fanatics in red robes, the leader of which was holding a knife above his head?

There were eight of them, all chanting and holding various Satanic looking objects, one had a skull, another a candle, a third a book with a pentagram drawn on it in white paint. The effect was pretty good if you didn't know that the skull was probably someone's Halloween decoration and the candle required batteries.

I walked in, leaving the door swinging behind me. It had been unlocked, but kicking it open was more dramatic and since that's what these idiots wanted I  figured I'd give it to them. The woman was still screaming despite the fact that the leader was now looking at me with a puzzled expression on his pimply face.

"Okay boys, the street lights are on so you have to go home" I said as I put my hands into my black trench coat. I really wasn't in the mood to deal with these guys tonight. When the captive woman's husband burst into my office a few hours before I told him that if it was a bunch of college frat boys playing cultists I'd charge him double. I'd been right of course, and the prick would pay, but that didn't mean I wasn't annoyed at missing The Tonight Show thanks to these wannabes.

"How dare you disrupt this unholy ritual heathen!" the leader said, still holding the knife.

"Heathen? Really?" I said cocking one eyebrow. "You're the ones who ruined perfectly good bathrobes and hoodies for your little outfits there."

"Seize him!" he commanded pointing to me.

I stood there trying to maintain a blank look on my face despite the urge to double over laughing. Seize him? God this guy has read too many comics.

As I expected, the followers looked at each other awkwardly wondering what to do. The woman kept screaming, oblivious to her absolute lack of danger. I really wished this wasn't the first idiot housewife looking for adventure I'd had to untie from one of these supposed "Death cults", but it was far from it and probably far from the last.

But whatever at least the commission would pay for my new tires.

"Okay, put down the dagger and untie Mrs. Jensen and you can all go home and get back to jerking off to American Horror Story." I said to the group.

"Our great work will not be undone!" the leader screamed again, as he raised the knife to stab into his victim.

"Shit" I said and pulled my hands from my pockets. I lifted a hand towards the leader as he plunged and shouted "Heat!"

The cheap dagger, probably bought at some strip mall for around $30 and never sharpened, heated up and fell to the floor as its owner screamed in pain. The rest of the assembly scrambled for the door, dropping books, skulls and candles on their way.

 I flicked the switch next to the wall better illuminating the room. The scene lost a lot of its atmosphere when the lights illuminated the dated food pyramid posters on the wall. Mrs. Jensen was tied to a large wooden table, the customary plastic chairs around it scooted away haphazardly throughout the home economics classroom. I frankly didn't want to know why the "cult" chose the high school home ec class for its ritual, though I'd guess it was to get back at some teacher who gave them an F on baking cookies.

"You son of a-" the leader sputtered

"Ah ah ah.... Not in front of the lady..." I said, staring at him across the room.

He wasn't that far away. If I put my foot on the door frame and stretched my fingers out I might be able to touch the end of the table, but my 6'6 height probably helped. This guy was short, 5'4 maybe and built like he spent too many nights in front of the TV when he should've been running.

Yeah yeah, glass houses, but I have an excuse.

Mrs. Jensen seemed to look confused at the addition of lights. She was in her late 40's, and from the looks of it was also not one to go on a late night jog. They had her in her bra and panties, neither of which matched, which confirmed my suspicion that she didn't come here looking to be tonight's sacrifice. I have to say I was impressed with the way she was tied. Both her hands and feet were tied together with a single rope that wrapped under the table, meaning that the more she wiggled one set of appendages the tighter the other set would be. What can I say, I appreciate good workmanship, even in late night ritualistic murder.

"He has come, your time is at hand" the idiot said while he cradled his burned hand.

This guy actually believed it. Shit. "Yeah, yeah." I said, approaching him and reaching for a set of handcuffs on my belt. "He came 30 years ago, so what else is new?"

"The time of reckoning will be at hand!" he said circling the table to get away from me.

"Oh come on buddy," I said, switching directions so he couldn't run out the door. "Just come quietly and your mom can bail you out in the morning!"

He changed directions again and we started into a stupid Marx Brother skit with the table between us. Mrs. Jensen kept craning her neck to see what was going on.

"You are gifted with his power, you know of his might!" he said as he feigned back and fourth trying to throw me off. All he was really doing was pissing me off though.

"Look kid, I'm not in the mood for this." I said standing straight up. The problem with these fake cultists was that they didn't know how real power worked. They played at calling on the power of the Eldrich without knowing what it actually means, or what it can do.

I'm always up for a quick lesson though

"Sink" I said pointing at the floor. The cultist immediately looked down as the area of floor directly around him turned into something sticky and viscus. He immediately began to sink down like quick sand. He tried grabbing for the edges but couldn't find any purchase on the solid linoleum.

"Solid" I said once he got to waist deep and the floor immediately solidified around him. He was now stuck in the floor with his gut hanging over the lip. I pulled the table away from him with Mrs. Jensen still attached to it, not an easy feat mind you, and strolled over to the flailing cult leader.

"Look buddy, you made this difficult. I don't care if you and your friends want to get together and chat Latin and pretend that you're calling on the big bads. I don't even care if you wanna strip down and tie each other up, do whatever weird kinky shit you're into. I do draw the line though at trying to sacrifice people for your stupid beliefs. And I especially don't like it when it requires me to drive a half hour to some podunk school in the boonies to bust it up."

The kid started crying and mumbling something in gibberish. I figured he couldn't be more than a college freshman, probably the first time he'd had the resources and freedom to do something like this, but I was also getting the feeling he actually believed in what he was doing.

I crouched down next to him and pulled up my shirt. I pointed to the black veins that spread from the middle of my chest and nearly reached my navel.

"You see this, kid? This is what real messing with this crap gets you. One day this is going to creep all over my body and then I join up with one of those assholes forever. You still think it's glamorous?"

The kid looked at my black lines with envy. "It is the beautiful gift of Cthluhu.:

I slapped the kid across the face."It's Azathoth, asshole. Get it right" and stood up turning to the victim. A couple quick swipes with my actual functional dagger and she was freed, just in time to see the cops swarm in. I raised my hand producing the badge I kept in my sleeve (Really why keep your badge in your pockets when the cops will just assume you're reaching for a gun?). It stated that I was a special liaison to the police force and that it was okay for me to be here. They gave Mrs. Jensen a blanket and escorted her out then puzzled as to how to get the little prick out of the floor as I headed back for my car.

A quick glance at my watch told me it was almost midnight. Not bad for a night's work, now to go back to the office, get my payment, pop some popcorn and see what's on TV.