“So, is there actually a ritual for summoning the Red Cap?” Keursio asked.
“Not that I know of,” I said, drawing my knife. “I just figured I'd surround myself with debauchery and blood and see if that draws her out.”
“Great plan,” Hideaki said, somewhat sarcastically.
Tony handed me an old mixing bowl, and I used the knife to cut one of my palms.
“If only there was Linkin Park playing,” I muttered, letting the blood spill into the bowl. “Think this'll be enough?”
“Here,” Abdalin said, grabbing the knife and cutting his own hand with it. He then proceeded to drop his own blood in with mine.
“Multiple people's blood, all mixing together in a big red bowl,” I said. “Yeah, I can see why that might appeal to her.”
Abdalin handed the knife over to Seraph, who, after hesitating for a bit, added her own blood.
“Sorry,” I said.
“Don't worry about it,” she replied.
The knife handed over to Keursio, who wiped it off with a towelette before cutting herself and dropping some of her own blood into the bowl. Tony took the knife from her, wiped it on his jeans, and added his blood to the mix, without hesitating. Hideaki eyed the knife for a moment before turning to me.
“This had better work,” he said, ignoring the knife and drawing his new kodachi. He gripped the blade in his free hand and drew it across his palm, allowing the blood to trickle down into the bowl.
“Great,” I said. “Let's give this a try. I sat cross-legged on the bed and placed the bowl in my lap, letting the smell of blood drift up into my nostrils. I closed my eyes and focused on the smell, using it to meditate.
Come on, I thought. Come out here. We need to talk.
“Is it working?” Tony asked after a while
“Not yet,” I said. “I thought surrounding myself with sex would work”
“Maybe there's not enough,” Hideaki said jokingly.
Abdalin seemed to take that seriously, as he immediately exclaimed “On it!” and rushed out into the hallway shouting “Yo! I need three of your finest girls and a mini-fridge full of lime Jell-O!”
I sat there for a few moments, staring after him.
“The Game Master's death really hit him hard,” I said. “It's pretty tragic.”
“Riiiiiiiight,” Hideaki replied.
I closed my eyes again and concentrated. After few minutes of absolutely nothing happening, I let out a sigh.
“You know, maybe the right ambience would help,” I said. “Does anyone have any Blood On The Dance Floor music?”
I opened my eyes to look at the others. They were no where to be seen.
“Ooooooooor, not,” I said.
The room looked different now The lighting was really dim, and the walls had turned a dark blue. I got up to investigate them. The paint was peeling away, and the drywall beneath was a dark black.
I looked around some more and found myself face to face with a tall mirror. My clothing was different. I was dressed in a black t-shirt and slacks, and had my old vest on. On top of that, there was a dark red symbol on my shirt. The same symbol I had absentmindedly drawn in the dirt that one time. You know, this one;
I left the room and found myself in a long, long hallway. Seeing nothing better to do, I began walking down it, assuming it would take me to the Red Cap. As I walked, I noticed that the condition of the walls was becoming gradually worse. The paint was chipping away rapidly, and the drywall was badly cracked and dripping blood.
“Yep, this is her domain all right,” I said.
I soon became aware of someone with me. I briefly looked over my shoulder
“Oh, you're here,” I said calmly.
Burner, floating just behind me, tilted his head.
“Stop tilting your head,” I told him. “It looks weird.”
We came to a spiral staircase, and began to ascend along it. For a while. A very, very long while. Eventually, we made it to the top, and a new hallway. I continued to walk along it, until I saw a peculiar door There were a lot of doors there, but this one had a glowing red light slipping out from underneath it.
“Guess this is it,” I said. “The Red Cap must be through here.”
I turned the knob and walked in. The floor ended a few feet inside, and beyond that was a huge black void. And floating there was an aurora, much like the Northern Lights, only red. Every conceivable shade of red was repressented in that floating mass of light.
“So,” I said. “This is what you really look like.”
“Daniel,” the Red Cap said. “Greetings.”
“Yeah, hi, we need to talk,” I said.
“You want me to answer your questions?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I said.
“Very well,” she said. “I will answer one of your questions now. The others will come at a cost.”
“What cost?” I asked.
“I am on the loosing end of a war,” she told me. “You know this.”
“I'm not helping you,” I told her. “I want to end this war. I'm not about to pick sides in it.”
“We share a common enemy in the High Blood,” she reminded me.
“Good point, except you're my enemy too,” I said.
“And yet the High Blood are the greater threat,” she said.
“You've cause plenty of collateral damage of your own,” I replied.
“I can put an end to that,” she said. “For the time being. But I cannot stop the High Blood from taking innocent lives.”
“I'm not joining you,” I told her. “End of story.”
I heard laughter coming from the aurora.
“You haven't figured out what Red Daniel is, have you?” she said.
“You mean what he was?” I asked. “Don't know if you recall, but I killed him.”
“That didn't stop him from saving your life when you clashed with the Sentinal, did it?” she asked.
“I don't know how he did that,” I said. “But he hasn't been seen since.”
“No he hasn't,” the Red Cap said. “Regardless, his followers are stronger then us, and unless we can form an alliance, they will spread throughout this world, wngulfing everything with Vice.”
“You're just ticked because they're stealing all your potential victims,” I said.
“Enough,” she said. “Now, you had questions, did you not?”
“Quite a few,” I said.
“I will only answer one right now,” she said. “The others will wait.”
I put some thought into that, trying to decide what was most urgent.
“Keursio's gone long enough without her sister,” I said. “Can you tell me where I can find Isiore?”
Suddenly, more figures began appearing. They were vaguely humanoid, and appeared to be dark blue. Some of them had fierce red auras around them, but most of them only had a little bit of red glow about them.
“Blood Vessels,” I said. “And Scarlet Marked.”
“Yes,” the Red Cap said. “Some one here knows... Ah! Yes, you. Step forward.”
One of the Scarlet Marked approached me.
“Share with him,” the Red Cap said. “Your memory.”
I was suddenly somewhere else. A dark street, late at night. I was peering down an alleyway, keeping myself hidden. I could see three figures speaking. One of them I recognized immediately as Bill Dawson. He had on his beige trenchcoat, with the armor underneath. The man nest to him was dressed in the same armor, but with nothing over it. I assumed it was Angelo Nox. Then there was the third person. A tall man, dressed in a dusty black coat, with his hands stuffed into his pockets. I couldn't quite make out his face.
“I'm afraid you're asking a bit much,” Angelo said. “The answer is no.”
“I don't believe that you understand me, Nox,” the strange man said. “I'm not taking no for an answer.”
Dawson suddenly had a mechanical sword out, raised to the stranger's throat.
“Too bad,” Angelo said. “Because it is the only answer we will be giving.”
The stranger pulled his left hand out of his pocket and vanished. He suddenly reappeared beside Dawson and struck him in the back of the skull, knocking him out.
“This is my final offer,” the man said.
Angelo produced a mask out of seemingly nowhere and placed it on his face. It locked into place, with some of its robo-iron-man bits sliding around as it did, and a bright red spade symbol on the front it it lit up. A giant, high tech spear appeared in his hand.
“Yes, well, this is my final answer,” he said, not breaking from his icy calm.
And then he attacked. They both teleported all over the alleyway, locked in combat The strange man fought exclusively with his left arm, keeping his right hand hidden away. Angelo's speed was unbelievable. I've seen very few people that could move that fast. But unfortunately, that didn't give him much of an advantage. The strange man suddenly wasn't alone. Replicas of him appeared, each with glowing blue eyes. They too fought only with their left hand, and they attempted to overwhelm Angelo. Angelo managed to strike them down and charged at the stranger. Just then, Isiore appeared through a rift and tackled Angelo. Together with the stranger and his copies, they brought Angelo down. He fell to the ground, panting. Isiore stepped back, while the copies vanished and the stranger stood over Angelo. He shifted his right arm, preparing to draw it from its pocket, but another man suddenly appeared before him, with a familiar sword raised to his throat. He was dressed in a segmented long coat of several colors, mostly black and violet. I couldn't see his face. It was blurred, for some reason, but he seemed familiar, in more ways then one. The two men stared each other in the eyes for a long moment.
“You,” the stranger said, after a bit.
“Hello,” the mysterious swordsman said. “I hope I'm not interrupting something.”
“No,” the stranger said. “Not at all.”
Isiore made a move toward the swordsman, but the stranger motioned for her to be still.
“These men are an important investment to me,” the swordsman said. “I'd hate to have anything bad happen to them.”
He lowered his sword to the stranger's sheathed right hand.
“Just as much as you'd hate to receive any more injuries,” he continued
The stranger scowled, and took a few steps back. The swordsman turned his attention to Angelo.
“Get up,” he said. “You're embarrassing me. Making me come out here to deal with this. I have other investments to attend to, here.”
“My apologies,” Angelo said.
I was beginning to see the big picture. This man, with the sword, was the Backer. He was the one who was funding Angelo and Dawson. And the stranger who kept his apparently wounded hand hidden was the one controlling Isiore.
“Now, go on,” the Backer said.
“Okay,” Angelo replied, grabbing Dawson and vanishing.
“I apologize for how quickly everything escalated,” the Backer said.
The stranger let out a loud hmpf.
“Come, Isiore,” he said, grouchily. “Let's go.”
“Oh, also,” the Backer said, fading away to nothing. “You have a spectator.”
The stranger turned angrily, locking eyes with me.
Next thing I knew, he had me pinned to the wall by the throat, his glowing crimson eyes burning into mine. I could feel, and practically taste his anger. He drew his right hand, colored a deep crimson, with a deep gash on its back, from his pocket, and raised it.
“You should learn to keep you meddlesome nose out of things that don't concern you!” he barked, backhanding me with the force of a fucking car.
I was suddenly back in the Red Cap's domain, and I realized that that had all been the Scarlet Marked's memory. I sat there, panting.
“Fuck,” I said. “No, no, nononononoshit shit shit! Fuck! I am not prepared for this!”
“Calm yourself,” the Red Cap said, somewhat soothingly.
“Calm myself!?” I snapped. “This is the Jack of fucking All we're talking about here! Of all the people who could be manipulating Isiore, why'd it have to be fucking him!”
“I understand,” the Red Cap said. “You will not have to face him alone.”
“So what?” I asked. “You're providing backup?”
“You will meet with a Vessel of mine in Chicago one week from today,” she said. “She will assist you
“Just fucking peachy,” I thought.
“As I said, that is the only question I will answer for you now,” the Red Cap said. “The other answers will come later.”
“One last thing,” I said, standing up. “You must know by now that I'm powerless. The abilities that used to keep you in check are gone So why haven't you tried taking over?”
Without warning, the aurora starting rushing toward me. I drew my sword on reflex, and Burner summoned his naginata, but it proved unneccessary. The aurora stopped seconds before reaching me. Tendrils of drakness were binding it, preventing it from reaching me.
“I would love to corrupt you,” the Red Cap said. “Demolish your innocence and fill you with the darkest of vice. But he won't allow it.”
My eyes followed the tendrils to an object in the sky. A cloud of pure black smoke, obscuring something in its center I squinted up at it, and came to realize what the central object was; a large, cracked gas mask. I stepped back in both alarm and horror.
“The Archangel!” I gasped.
“In a manner of speaking,” the Red Cap said.
“He's supposed to be dead!” I exclaimed, anger replacing my fear. “I killed him!”
“Yes you did,” the Red Cap said.
“Why is here?” I demanded.
“Reasons,” the Red Cap said. “It is not important right now. It will be made clear to you someday.”
I glared up at the floating gas mask.
“That is all I will tell you for now,” the Red Cap said. “You and your infernal companion are excused.”
“Wait a second,” I said. “You know what Burner is, don't you!?”
“I told you before,” she said. “Only one question. I have been generous enough. Now leave!”
I was suddenly sprawled across the whorehouse bed. Every was still there, but they were in a state of mild panic.
“Daniel!” Seraph exclaimed. “Where were you!?”
“Uh, Red Cap's domain,” I said. “Long story. Listen, I know where Isiore is.”
I told them everything. They were all just as shocked as I was. You see, Jack's not human. Not really, anyway. He's a deal maker who only works for himself. He's like an evil genie, only more powerful. Like, Lovecraftian Outer God level power. And he's controlling Isiore.
But what unnerves me even more is the Backer. Even Jack was afraid of him. Just who is he? And also, where did Jack get that gash on his hand? That wasn't there before, was it? So many fucking questions...
Also, the Red Cap doesn't realize it, but she answered another of my questions. I know where that meeting between Angelo and Jack took place. I caught a glimpse of a sign before the vision ended. I don't know if Angelo and Dawson are still in the area, but I know I'm definitely gonna check out Vancouver in the near future.
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