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Chapter 22-23

Chapter Twenty Two

The notorious lord was a tall skinny old man dressed in an elegant black dinner jacket. He had a narrow face that was perched on a long wrinkled neck and featured a massive hooked nose, thin bloodless lips and the deep-set piercing eyes of a vulture with a proud gaze but also an appetite for carrion. His sparse yellowish hair was slicked back neatly along the skull. 

The faces of his guardians, however, were less glamorous. Their low-browed shaved skulls didn’t shine with intellect, and their grey oversized uniform didn’t fit them well.

As Lord Wittslock spotted Thaler, his predatory face grew wary, even anxious. However, when the detective drew closer to him, the lord relaxed and a vicious smile cracked out across his face. 

‘My heartfelt welcome to my young friend and his charming fiancée!’ Lord Wittslock exclaimed, as he waived his hand ostentatiously.

‘A very promising greeting from someone who has no heart at all,’ said Thaler. However, Lord Wittslock paid little attention to the taunt.

‘What a terrible day.’ Lord Wittslock started fanning himself with a piece of paper that had appeared in his hand virtually from nowhere. ‘Everything is going wrong,’ he complained. Then, as if having suddenly recollected something of great importance, he peered into the paper. ‘Pure madness.’ He shook his head and frowned whilst running his eyes through the text that was simultaneously appearing on the paper as if out of nowhere. He started to read the text aloud, adding his own comments as he went.

‘“Devastating explosion at the chemical plant . . .” What would you expect from this evil kitchen-of-witches? “Multiple airplane collisions at Heathwick . . . Uh-uh,” I personally never relied upon those flying monstrosities and always preferred to travel by horse . . . What? Five? Gentlemen! Five major road accidents with severe casualties, of course,’ he seemed astonished at this news. “Transportation collapse and general malfunction in the city’s power supply” and . . . Just look at that!’ he focused his eyes onto the paper and then, abruptly, glanced at Thaler as if he had to prove his words, ‘A major fire at the city’s police headquarters!’ he shook the sheet in the air like a prosecutor showing his main evidence of a murder to the court. ‘And all that on the very same day, gentlemen!’ he exclaimed. ‘It’s an extraordinary thing, the most extraordinary thing I’ve ever witnessed!’

He looked at his goons as though he were expecting some kind of appreciation, but they showed no reaction to his words. They stood silently, waiting for his command with their rifles ready. Lord Wittslock coughed knowingly and tended to Thaler again.

‘As you can see, my dear friend,’ he said, ‘there’s a lot of trouble around the city tonight. Too much for the police, and such, to care much about our little meeting.’

‘Very clever plan, Lord Wittslock,’ said Thaler. ‘To be honest, I don’t understand how you managed to create an army of thugs in such a short time. That’s not the purpose of my visit, however. Let’s get to the point. I’d like to see what you have, then I’ll show you what I’ve brought.’

‘Jolly good, Thaler! I like people who don’t beat around the bush!’ exclaimed Lord Wittslock. He gave a subtle sign to one of his faceless servants who brought a small wooden chest and, holding it in his hands, opened it in front of Thaler.

The inner walls of the chest were absolutely black and didn’t return any light. In the middle of that dark, seemingly bottomless space, Thaler discerned a weak bluish glow. Then, the faint light thickened and he recognised the tiny face of a man distorted in suffering. The servant closed the chest abruptly and stepped back.

‘As you can see see, my friend,’ said Lord Wittslock. ‘I’ve kept my word. Now, it’s your turn,’ he made an encouraging gesture.

Thaler looked around and pulled out the leather roll.

Lord Wittslock stretched out his hand.

‘I beg your pardon, Lord Wittslock, but your honour is not sufficient to earn my trust. You can view it whilst it sits securely in my hands,’ said Thaler. ‘You’ll have it only when the chest is mine.’

‘Wrong!’ shouted Lord Wittslock. His smile becoming sardonic. ’Absolutely wrong! You’ll give me it right now or you and your woman die instantly!’

At once, the guns of the goons were levelled and aimed at Thaler and Ashley. 

Thaler pushed his hand under his shirt and clutched Redding’s chain in a threatening motion. Ashley drew closer to him. However, the gesture didn’t frighten Lord Wittslock at all. Worse still, it made him sneer. Ashley and Thaler looked at each other. There was not much to say — their plan had failed; they had no protection. They joined their hands and started to back away slowly towards the exit. But, the goons closed the circle behind them. The trap had snapped shut.

‘I don’t know why your master chose such a peculiar way to get rid of you,’ Lord Wittslock said scornfully. Then, he approached Thaler, pushed his scrawny hand under Thaler’s shirt, grasped the Redding’s chain and tugged it down so violently that Thaler jerked forward and almost lost his equilibrium. ‘As you can see, this chain is absolutely useless. It has no power over me, apart from stinking of his sweat and making me feel sick.’

Thaler scowled and lifted his head.

‘The game is over, little man,’ with a grimace of disgust, Lord Wittslock looked down at the Redding’s chain in his hand and threw it to the floor. He then pulled out a large scarlet handkerchief and started to thoroughly clean his hands. ‘Your master was defeated by our overlord and his mogloc was desecrated. I saw your master burning in the flames, but I had a little doubt about what became of his chain. Now, I clearly see that my caution was unwarranted.’

Lord Wittslock looked down upon Thaler.

‘You surpassed all my expectations, but only in one thing — your stupidity.’ The lord sniffed his hands — the smell was still bothering him. ‘This is a painful moment for both of us, Thaler,’ he said. ‘But, I am obliged to release you from your useless burden. That’s what I always do to people taking their very first steps into purgatory,’ the lord grinned.

‘I guess could you call it the “way to freedom,”’ Thaler uttered.

‘Oh, freedom!’ Exclaimed Lord Wittslock. ‘What a sweet word for human ears! You humans can never get enough of it. For ages, you’ve been chasing it throughout that madness called “the history of mankind.” But, for a moment,’ he ruminated, ‘let’s be philosophical and ask ourselves one simple question — what is the ultimate goal of this chase? What will happen if we add more and more of it to your existence? What is its furthest and highest degree? What is absolute freedom? The answer is very simple my little friend — chaos, our domain where our overlord reigns. People, sooner or later, will learn the truth,’ he whispered morosely. ‘Then, they’ll follow us, not you, Master Thaler.’

Lord Wittslock and Thaler stared at each other.

‘Your speech impressed me even more than that old sophism about horns,’ Thaler said calmly, ‘with the only difference — that you, actually, do have horns; at least as a decoration to your real appearance.’

Lord Wittslock smirked.

‘It’s commendable that you have some knowledge of ancient philosophy and can maintain your sense of humour in the face of imminent death, my young friend,’ the lord said with delight. Then, he made a sign and the circle of goons around Ashley and Thaler contracted.

‘Unfortunately, you caused us too much trouble to let you go. But, our deal has not been completed yet. You can still buy a few extra minutes of your miserable life if you choose to obey my orders,’ he stretched out his hand again. ‘I will not ask again.’

Without a word, Thaler passed the bundle with the splinter to the lord.

Lord Wittslock opened it immediately and a maniacal smile spread on his face.

‘Yes,’ he whispered, ‘this is it.’

He took the splinter in his hands with great care and sniffed it from all sides. It seemed that this examination satisfied him, although, the expression of disgust hadn’t vanished from his face entirely.

‘The smell of that old boar will haunt me forever,’ said Lord Wittslock in revulsion, ‘but never mind — soon it’ll be over. Now, you, follow me!’ he shouted at Thaler and Ashley. ‘You have to see something before I throw you both into the Gehenna’s fire!’

He turned around and paced quickly into the main hall. Thaler and Ashley, guarded by the goons, followed him.

Chapter Twenty Three

This time, the hall was brightly lit by thousands of candles set on massive chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and on massive metal candlesticks between the columns. A trembling net of light, woven by the multitude of flickering flames, was cast over the hall giving the scene a dreamy almost ghost-like appearance and seemed to animate the gargoyles that decorated the hall.

A large party of formally dressed people were chatting amongst themselves in the middle of the hall creating an indistinct hum that hovered above the room. The men wore black tailcoats over waistcoats and crisply starched white shirts. The women, bestrewed with diamonds and other exclusive items of jewellery, were dressed in dark sweeping evening gowns and elbow-length gloves. Their voices subsided immediately, as Lord Wittslock’s steps resounded across the hall. The crowd parted, revealing a twelve-foot circle made of rotten wooden boards that were lying on the tiles in the centre of the mosaic floor.

 ‘Yes, my little man,’ Lord Wittslock’s eyes were blazing. ‘Your guess was right. It took us a few centuries of wizardry, but this time we succeeded in taking the black box apart in order to make a magic circle,’ he looked over at the crowd, ‘to help our Lord of Abaddon to rise!’ he exclaimed triumphantly.

‘Our Lord of Abaddon shall come!’ The crowd chanted.

‘Ladies and gentlemen!’ Lord Wittslock announced. ‘Let me introduce you to a couple of lambs who have lost their way and found themselves on our premises. On any other day, we would have a lot of fun playing with their flesh, but today we have a much more important event taking place.’ He held a rhetorical pause and looked over to the crowd once more. ‘Today, we welcome the return of our overlord, Lord of Abaddon!’

The audience applauded enthusiastically. The men and women were dressed most stylishly and looked quite human on the outside, but their evil eyes and sinister smiles spoke for themselves.

One lady showed particular interest in the captives. She was a miniature brunette with a curvaceous figure squeezed into a tight black dress. She had tanned skin and wore elaborate eye makeup along with an abundance of gold jewellery which gave her the appearance of an ancient Egyptian queen. Her lustrous black hair was woven into a thick plait that was resting on her right shoulder. She left her place and, playing with the tip of her plait, strolled across the hall towards Thaler and Ashley. Before she could reach them, she was stopped by Lord Wittslock’s angry voice.

‘Lady Angsgott!’ the archdemon shouted impatiently. ‘I thought I was clear in telling everyone, including you, that there’s no time for distractions, my dear.’

Lady Angsgott threw a leer at Thaler and her gaze lingered a little bit longer on Ashley who was hiding behind Thaler and playing her ingénue role diligently. She eyed them up and down, sniggered and, under Lord Wittslock’s severe gaze, returned to her place. With an expression of boredom written across her face, she started fanning herself. Her black plait, like the tale of an angry cat, made a wide sweeping movement from side to side and then returned to its former place on her shoulder. ‘Today’s chaos that seized the city is just the beginning,’ said Lord Wittslock in a triumphant voice. ‘The new world order will be asserted when our overlord appears here!’

‘Lord of Abaddon shall come! Lord of Abaddon shall come!’ the crowd started to chant once more.

‘So be it!’ Lord Wittslock turned to Ashley and Thaler. ‘And you’ll be the first mortals to see him! This world had been built on one big lie — much bigger than the giant turtle — but, today, the truth will rise forth to every one of your kind.’ The lord took the splinter in both his hands, got down on his knees near the magic circle and, with extreme caution, squeezed the splinter into the boards to make it flush.

Immediately, a bright spark ran along the inner perimeter of the circle, leaving a trail of drifting smoke. Driven by an invisible spinning force, the smoke started to swirl into the centre of the circle becoming thicker and thicker.

‘Lord of Abaddon shall come!’ Lord Wittslock exclaimed in elation. ‘Lord of Abaddon shall come!’ he spread his hands over the circle and started to chant with the crowd.

Meanwhile, the swirl of smoke started to rise up and grow, creating a spiralling column of dust and fumes in the middle of the hall. Soon, it reached the ceiling. The heavy chandeliers began to swing on their fittings flinging the candles across the room as it started to sink into the darkness. Emerging from the darkness, a deep red glow appeared at the base of the swirl. At first, it was weak and hardly visible, but soon gained strength and turned into a raging storm of fire that was belching out from under the floor.

The crowd was chanting wildly, screaming and howling and flailing their hands in the air. The smoke spread rapidly and a smell of sulphur filled the entire hall.

Thaler looked around. The goons stood still, with their guns at the ready, not showing any interest in the grim ritual taking place. The man who held the wooden chest stood motionlessly a few steps away. 

Ashley touched Thaler with the back of her hand.

‘Be ready,’ whispered Thaler.

The bellowing maelstrom of fire was raging in the middle of the room. The ecstasy of the crowd became rabid as a giant figure with massive horns rose from beneath the ground and emerged amongst the flames in the centre of the magic circle.

‘The Overlord is here!’ shouted Lord Wittslock and the crowd echoed him.

Wittslock, still resting on his knees, stretched his hands into the flame towards the figure. The raging fire failed to do any harm to the lord’s skin or clothes.

‘My Lord!’ he exclaimed, ‘Welcome to—’

Suddenly, his words were broken by a loud metallic clang. The magic circle cracked and a viscous red-hot liquid, like volcanic lava, started to ooze out through the breech, spreading on the floor.

The dark figure uttered a thunderous roar that shook the entire building, threw up its gigantic clawed hands and started to sink back down under the ground through the flames. Lord Wittslock jumped to his feet and stretched his arms towards the receding figure.

‘No!’ he howled, but in vain. The flames started to die out and the giant figure continued its sullen and unhindered descent. Wringing his hands, Lord Wittslock jumped to the very edge of the magic circle. The smoke dispersed and they saw that the magic circle had given way to a gaping bottomless sinkhole. The mosaic floor crumbled under Lord Wittslock’s feet and, screaming and squirming, he tumbled down into the abyss.

But it was just the beginning. 

The breach grew wider and wider. Multiple cracks in the floor started to spread from the edges of the hole and traverse the hall in all directions.

The crowd of demons scattered and scurried away, but some form of invisible force seized them and cast them back into the smoke and dust of the sinkhole. Soon, they had all disappeared in the abyss.

‘Now!’ Thaler jumped towards the man with the chest, knocked him off his feet and snatched the wooden box from his grip. The former servant of Lord Wittslock showed no desire to fight. Instead, he dropped to all fours and started to crawl away with incredible dexterity. His clothes had sagged from his frame, before his body sank completely to the ground and then a large rat darted out of the vacated collar. The creature scurried away and disappeared almost instantly among the debris that was falling all around.

The same metamorphosis occurred to all the other goons. Their rifles were dropping from their hands, their bulky frames were collapsing to the floor, and more and more rats were darting out of their uniforms and rushing away.  

The sinkhole in the middle of the hall continued to grow. The whole building shuddered. Its columns started to stagger and a shower of bricks fell from the ceiling. At the same time, some of the chandeliers dropped from the ceiling into the sinkhole that, at that moment, occupied almost the whole area of the hall.

‘Let’s get out of here!’ Thaler grabbed Ashley’s hand, gripped the wooden chest tighter and they ran to the exit. 

But they didn’t get far.

Lady Angsgott was standing casually between them and the way out. As before, despite the chaos and destruction that was raging around her, she looked bored and almost ready to yawn. She gave Thaler a cheeky smile and spread a lace garrotte in her hands. Her black plait slipped from her shoulder and swept from side to side in the air behind her head. Then, it reared up like a scorpion tail.

‘What a surprise,’ Lady Angsgott said in a piercing yet uninterested tone and approached Ashley and Thaler slowly, twiddling with the noose. ‘They all got what they deserved, especially that bore Wittslock. At last, I can have some fun,’ she winked at Thaler.

‘Hands off my man, bitch!’ Ashley shrieked in a high-pitched voice, shook her fists and stepped towards Lady Angsgott. She played her role so well that she almost made Thaler cringe.  

‘Are you jealous?’ Lady Angsgott giggled. ‘Don’t worry, dear. I like to play with women too. It doesn’t matter which one of you dies first. Just have a bit of patience,’ she purred.

‘Get out of our way, you fat cow,’ Ashley threw another bit of a tantrum. Lady Angsgott smiled condescendingly — Ashley’s words amused her.

‘Don’t shake your little fists, dear — they won’t help you,’ Lady Angsgott hissed as her black tail swung threateningly above her head. She hid the noose in her cleavage and switched her attention to Ashley.

‘Shut up, bitch!’ Ashley shrieked. ‘If your fat ass could squeeze through that hole, you’d go to Hell just like the others!’

The third assault hit its target. Ashley’s words infuriated Lady Angsgott. She exploded with a roar of anger, jumped high up to the ceiling and, like a harpy, dived down at Ashley.

But instead of the little fists, Lady Angsgott’s neck met the razor-sharp carbon sword that Ashley had, in a flash, drawn out of her belt. It was a thin blade, flexible enough to get bent around her waist under the belt’s lining, but was also strong enough to slice off Lady Angsgott’s head in one deft movement. The counter-attack was unexpected, quick and precise. It left the demoness no chance to dodge the blow. 

Lady Angsgott’s head, her plait still jerking like a scorpion tail, tumbled down into the smoking pit and her body collapsed to the floor. Thick black liquid oozed from the stump of her neck. Her body shrank and shrivelled to become an empty husk of parched skin wrapped in a luxury clothes.

‘Leg it!’ Ashley grabbed Thaler’s hand as they rushed to the exit just seconds before the columns toppled into the sinkhole and the dome of the hall collapsed leaving the entire building sunk into a thick cloud of dust.

© 1995–2025 Alexander Daretsky. All rights reserved.

Published inThe Case of the Black-Box Man