Chapter 13

Journal of Artemis Strapp

March 12th

I stared out the window as the dawn began to break. The first ripples of sunlight dancing upon the waves out in the bay. I watched Lucius until his shape receded from view. What had I said that offended him so? I was cordial and kind. I listened. Perhaps I spoke too much. Yes, that might be it. However, the man was a lawyer of some ability and should be used to listening to others. No, there must be some other reason for his sudden departure.

I will attempt to contact him, but a more expedient matter pressed in on me.

The creature Lucius encountered in his dreams or visions. The one I guessed was the creator of the unholy abomination that used to be the child Isiah. M’Lady I think Lucius named her. What kind of creature was she? Why blood? Why did she drink blood? And how did the subject reanimate after being drained of blood, which of course was medically impossible? Was the answer viral in nature? Did her condition resemble a paralytic organism on a biological level? So many questions and no answers to come with them.

I strode down to my library and began pulling volumes from the shelves. Judith came in once, set a cup of coffee on an end table, and left while I rifled through texts about blood diseases. It seemed on the surface that whatever M’Lady was might be akin to a predatory leech. Attaching itself to the prey, possibly injecting a toxin, anti-bleeding or anti-clotting toxin, and then dropping off the host when satiated. Sadly, there was no way to test my theory without a body to perform a proper surgical exploration. How would I acquire a body and how would I know when next she would strike?

As I pondered this, another darker emotion pulled at me. If M’Lady attacked again someone would surely lose their life. I could not have this on my conscience. I needed some way to combat this demon. My mind ruminated on this. Fire? All animals are afraid of fire. Would mortal weapons work on her? Should I treat M’Lady as a natural or other-natural phenomenon? Something that conventional weapons might not work against? And the cross. What of the cross? This signified religious overtones that could be important. At this thought I knew I needed to speak with a man of the cloth to investigate church dictates on matters of the supernatural.        

Artemis.

“Yes?” I turned, expecting Judith at my door. She was not there so I turned back to my journal. Writing always fueled my creativity, allowing me to expand my mind to places it had not been before.

Artemis.

The sound, no more than a whisper, like gossamer. Able to be touched, but so delicate.

I was intrigued now, thinking Judith was playing some kind of trick on me (which was most definitely not her way). So, I decided to play along. I sprang from my chair, tiptoed to the door, waited a few seconds, then sprang into the hallway.

“HA!”

The hallway was empty.

“Judith? Where are you?” The house was silent. Interesting. I walked through the downstairs, finding a note on the kitchen table from Judith, telling me she went to the market.

Artemis.

I spun, understanding that the voice was supernatural in origin, but emanating only in my mind. Or, perhaps I was going mad once more?

For some reason, I felt compelled to walk back upstairs, and as I climbed the stairs, I knew where my feet would lead me. Indeed, within seconds I was standing inside the bedroom that my beloved Anna and I once shared. I did not sleep in this room any longer as her memory lingered too strong for me, my study had become my bedroom. Every item reminded me of her. The hairbrush and comb sitting on the vanity, bottles of cheap perfume she insisted on wearing, fake jewelry Anna bought from street vendors; all these objects somehow instilled with her essence.

I sat on the bed, causing a coating of dust to fly into the air, hovering as if to say hello. Judith had offered to clean and clear the room many times, but I always rebuffed her with a gentle shake of my head. She would concede, but with a worried eye. I know Judith worried about me, about my sanity perhaps as I wondered as well, because…

I could not let her go. I did not want to let Anna go.

My mind would not accept the reality that she did not exist on this physical plane any longer as much as I wanted it to be so. As usual, I found my fingers twisting the silver wedding band.

Why did I still wear it? My Anna was deceased, and yet, I was still married. In my heart…in my soul…I would forever be wedded to her for all time.

Artemis…

The bed sagged next to me, the pressure increasing as if from a body sitting on it. I felt soft, sweet breath on my face. An aroma seared into my consciousness. It was her! But I dared not look, lest it be some monstrous apparition.

My Love…

I closed my eyes, afraid to look.

Seconds, then minutes ticked by, and still I sat, a coward in every way.

When I finally gathered enough courage to turn my head I was greeted by empty air. I felt nothing. The sensation of Anna gone like summer rains in midday.

I am a foolish man.

Chapter 14

The Diary of Lucius Williamson, Esq.

March 12

6pm

I supped with Momma Simms in the morning, met with several clients, had lunch, then continued on into the day. Ruby stopped by and badgered me into attending a meeting held by the African Methodist Bethel Church Society in a building on Saratoga near Gay Street. Ruby attended all their meetings, but I usually declined as I had no interest in hearing others argue about politics. I agreed to attend with her mostly to end my own suffering. Perhaps I needed to be around others. So, upon closing the office I walked the seven or eight blocks to the church building where Ruby met me outside.

        “Pastor Moore is going to speak tonight! He is so handsome! And well-spoken. Quite a catch from what the ladies tell me.” Ruby beamed as she spoke.

        “I thought you wanted me to hear the latest political back and forth, not watch you froth at the mouth over some self-righteous religious leader?”

        “Shame on you Lucius! Show some respect. These men and women of the church are the real ones leading the fight! What do you do? Review contracts? How does that help the cause?”

        Anger bubbled up inside me, but I pushed it down, unwilling to take the bait from her. I quelled the fire inside me and for the next two hours listened to Pastor Moore wax poetic about our responsibility to build an independent society for free Blacks, slaves, and others. At least he did not spout more nonsense about the Back to Africa movement. Even if this country did not feel like home, Baltimore was; for good or ill. Africa would never be home for me and generations like me. It was too far removed from where we toiled now in our lives. As the next Pastor approached the podium I stood and excused myself. Ruby questioned me with a glare, but I could not take the tedium of another exercise of oratory regurgitation.

Once out on the street I pondered my strategy. Or dare I say, attempted to construct a strategy.

How should I track this demon woman? She moves like air and can see events mortal man cannot. How then? What does Artemis know? And the larger question…can I trust this man? He may speak to me in a different manner, but does he truly see me as an equal? No. But, the question remains. I needed to take a series of logical steps, collect evidence, present the facts, and ultimately, win the case. In whatever form that took. Using my mind would be the surest way to win this battle against M’Lady, regardless of what she was.

10PM

I sat in my room in darkness. Quieting my mind.

All my previous encounters with the demon occurred when my mind was still and calm. So, I deduced that if made my mind go to a place of absolute stillness then it might be possible to recreate the conditions I needed to observe her next movements. This thesis was not without danger though, as now M’Lady would be alert and watchful. I did take a certain amount comfort in the fact that she only noticed my presence the one time. The other instances I had been a simple observer.

So, I would observe once more.

I counted my breaths as I inhaled and exhaled. Slow and steady. I would extend myself into the darkness to find her. As I sat there a portion of my mind began to drift. I felt weightless as the room faded away into nothingness. The walls, the bed, the window, all gone now; replaced by the sensation of floating, as if on water. After a time, I opened my eyes and was astounded.

I was high above the city of Baltimore, staring down at the miasma of life. Buildings, houses, factories, horse carriages, men and women of all kinds walking, talking, working, living and dying all beneath me. The great tapestry of Baltimore laid out before my eyes. I had no sense of body, but somehow could feel the wind against my face, and smell the ever-present sea air that all residents of the city become used to.

Something drew me down, and as I descended it become apparent that I was nearing the Mount Vernon district. Many of the Free Black population in Baltimore lived in Fells Point, Federal Hill and Mount Vernon, among other places. I knew folks from Mount Vernon, and Momma Simms had lived there most of her time in the city, but I was not all that familiar with the district. I ended up close to the Susquehanna Railroad near a small stand of buildings which I assumed served the railroad business in some manner or other. Once I touched the ground, I could feel my actual body once more. I looked up and down the tracks. The area was deserted. Four or five railcars stood on the tracks, side doors open and dark. I began to wonder how to get back home when I heard a noise from several yards away. I flattened myself against the side of the building and waited. I did not wait long…A dark-robed shape I now recognized as M’Lady was leading a group of children in the direction of the railcars.

There were eight, maybe nine children, all wearing hoods or sackcloth over their heads. They appeared to be tied together with rope. A knot around the wrist of each child. They stumbled along, some crying soft, others shaking. I began to feel enraged, but remembered my purpose. To observe. So, I kept still even though on some level I knew she did not sense my presence.

M’Lady lined the children up. Then, something curious happened. Another woman walked into view. She had a bob of curly brown hair, and what I assumed passed for pretty. She walked along the row of children, pulling the hoods off their heads as she passed. I clapped my hand over my mouth. I wanted to scream out loud. The children were all Negro, ages seven to maybe ten. They were terrified. Some had tear streaks down their faces, or mucus dangling from their noses.

M’Lady pulled her hood back and smiled. Her raven black hair glimmered in the soft moonlight. She said something to the woman and they both laughed; the sound leaving an icy trail down my spine. M’Lady nodded and the blond woman herded the children into the rail car as a group. One of the older children protested. The blonde one picked the child up as if he weighed less than a bag of flour, tossed him over one slender shoulder, and marched into the dark railcar with him. M’Lady glanced around the dark area, her eyes moving my direction. She could not see me.

M’Lady walked into the railcar, slamming the door shut. I moved from my position and crept closer to the railcar. I stopped several feet away, but close enough to hear muffled voices inside, but not the words.

A scream sounded from within the railcar. First one, then others!

I could not take it. I banged on the door with my fists. Pounding and pounding until my knuckles bled. The screaming continued for a few seconds more, and then was replaced by a chilling silence which was more disturbing. The door flew open and the woman and M’Lady strolled out; their manner casual as if they had come from a tea party or other social event. Both were drenched in blood. I screamed at them, madness clawing at my brain, but they could not see or hear me. I tried to strike them, but my hands touched nothing but night air. The vile creatures disappeared into the darkness, moving away from the railroad tracks.

I turned back to the railcar, afraid to go inside, but compelled to do so.

I walked up the wooden ramp and into the railcar. It was dark, but I immediately smelled the copper scent of blood. As a young man, I had worked for a time in a slaughter house and knew the smell of death and blood. This was the same stench. The full moon helped my cause by streaming in through the open doorway; just enough to illuminate a ghastly scene of mind-numbing horror. The children were all dead of course. Their throats a savage ruin. Eyes forever open.

I backed away, fell down the ramp and vomited. I lay on the ground and cried until my guts hurt. I cried for the children. I cried for their families. I cried for myself. Once again, death had visited my people, but this time in supernatural form.

What God would allow such atrocities to happen? Why? I cursed his name even as I kept believing there was a chance to stop the evil.

When I recovered my strength, I made up my mind. I would swallow my pride and entreat Artemis to help me in my cause to destroy these cursed demons! I would not allow another Black child to be hurt! Not again! The night seemed to close in on me, swallowing me whole and spewing me out into nothing. Silence once more.

I opened my eyes and found that I was sitting on my bed, safe at home. Had I imagined the entire horrible affair? Was it a dream? A nightmare? Perhaps my mind did not leave my body at all, but instead I had simply fallen asleep. I felt a trickle of shame. I rose to walk to the water closet when I noticed my feet. My shoes were positioned next to the door as I always placed them. So, I was barefoot, having taken my socks off before bedtime. I continued to stare at my feet. They were filthy. As if I had walked in dirt for many miles. Then I noticed the ache in my hands. I brought them up to my face. My fingers and knuckles were bloody and raw.

The dream was real.

I had projected my consciousness from my body out into the night in search of the demon, M’Lady. This thought brought back memories of the dead children which caused a heaviness in my heart. I would partake in vengeance in their memory! Somehow, I would destroy this evil creature. I understood though that I must be wary. Even projecting myself could bring dread consequences…I looked at my hands and feet again…And pain.

The dread I felt was accompanied by another sensation. I began to smile, for I knew what my weapon was…this Gift Ruby and Momma Simms told me I have. The ability to find her, at will. This gave me power. A power I had never felt before. A power I would hone to a razor’s edge. My mind, my skills, my abilities as a lawyer depended upon precision and logic. I would hone this gift in the same manner until I was prepared and ready to strike at my enemy.