Blue Flame

Sharon lay in the bed. She looked groggy after her morning dose of sedative. She looked ashen, with her crimson aura dim. Church saw an empty ampoule of Midazolam, a strong sedative, on the cabinet top and an empty syringe.

Church noticed the teenager had the same wavy blonde hair like her mother, although matted and uncombed.

Sharon sat up in bed and swung her feet over the side, appearing to be in a trance.

‘Effects of the drugs,’ thought Church. He wondered why he hadn’t felt the ‘thunderbolt’ (Cupid’s arrow) like Granny Pearl said she had when she first met Jack. From what he knew about the Joining, it was what all Keeper and Guides experience when they meet their Chosen-one.

“Happy birthday Sharon, my name is Church.”

“I know,” said the girl. “I have been expecting you… Call me Pinky,” she said as she leaned over to the cabinet and took a tin from a drawer. “Are you my angel?” she asked, still trying to focus. “You are covered in a rainbow. Apart from Jack, the red angel I saw this morning, and I, everybody else I have seen was just white. Mind you, I thought Jack was my imagination until you arrived as he said you would. I have been hearing voices in my head for so long and getting blinding headaches.”

She opened the tin and pulled out a hand-rolled cigarette, which she lit and blew marijuana smoke around the room. Putting the joint in an ashtray, she filled a glass with water, opened a bottle of pills from the collection of neuroleptic medications, and swallowed a small yellow pill with the water.

“Clozaril,” she said, tapping the plastic bottle top. “New wonder drug for crackpots,” she chuckled and held out her arms and showed Church. “This is all over me; I am glowing red, that isn’t normal. I thought it was the drugs giving me hallucinations until I saw you.”

Church smiled and said, “For people like us that is normal and to answer your question, I am not an angel. What you see is my aura, the same as I can see yours, it’s not red, it is crimson. I am a Keeper, so mine is multi-coloured, and this morning my grandfather Jack’s spirit visited you. You aren’t crazy Pinky, just different,” said Church reassuringly. “We are special.”

Pinky closed her eyes as she was feeling high, but juddered awake and concentrated on Church.

“What about all the voices and headaches? Jack told me some crazy weird shit, saying you would explain everything,” she said, adding, “unless it was the drugs. None of this seems real.”

Church remembered his days of confusion and fear, so he could empathise with this young frightened woman.

“Jack told you that I would come, didn’t he?” Church asked.

“Yes,” said Pinky.

“And I am here,” said Church.

Pinky thought for a moment and slurred, “Yeah.”

“Therefore, everything Jack told you must be true… I will try to explain in more detail… but first” said Church, taking her hands. Pinky felt a strange power curse through her body, like a warm wave of electricity. Her aura now glowed and she felt clarity.

“Wow! What happened?” she asked, gazing around the room. “I feel great, drug-free.”

“As I said,” said Church, “We are special and help each other as well as lost souls.”

While Sharon smiled and looked at him, Church went over to the corner of the room and fetched over a small plastic chair.

“Jack told me that once you come, my headaches and different voices would stop pecking at my head. Is that true?” She asked, and said, “That would be my best birthday present.”

“Yes, they will stop now,” Church assured her as he sat and smiled at her, “Let me explain,”

Church spent the next hour or so explaining about the gift and their edict in life, and about her auntie Heidi. Although he never mentioned she was his chosen bride.

Greta then came into the room and asked. “Is everything okay? Have you taken your medication Sharon? Would you like a cup of tea Church?”

“No, thank you, I’m fine,” said Church.

“Isn’t it a lovely ring Sharon? Okay. I’ll leave you to it then. Shout if you need anything, and don’t forget to take your pills Sharon.”

Greta backed out of the door, closing it behind her.

“What was that stupid woman talking about?” Pinky asked.

Church had forgotten about the ring, with explaining to Pinky about the gift and the spirit world, so told her the ring was a ploy which they could use to their advantage.

Church told Pinky that she needed more time to learn about everything and experience things, so she could get a clearer understanding. He suggested that she came to his cottage.

This came as a shock to Pinky, but she felt relieved. Although everything Church had told her seemed unbelievable, she’d trusted Church from the moment she met him.

She glanced around her sparse unwelcoming room and said, “When do we leave?” She asked, smiled, and looked at Church who frowned and appeared nervous. “What’s wrong?” She asked

Church sighed, gazed into her blue eyes, and told her about the Chosen-ones joining.

Pinky grinned as she listened to Church’s voice get croakier. When he’d finished, Pinky smiled and put her hand on his thinning hairline and stroked the top of his head “So you and I are supposed to fall madly in love?” she whispered.

Church nodded.

Pinky chuckled, slapped his head, and said, “Bah, don’t talk shite! You look like Bob Hoskins, and I certainly wouldn’t go out with him, let alone marry him.”

They stared at each other for a moment, before bursting out laughing.

“These Spirits of yours must be as bonkers as I was, are they on drugs?” giggled Pinky.

“They certainly got it wrong this time,” chuckled Church, hoping that they had.

They laughed for several minutes before Pinky looked sullen and said, “My parents got money from the government for taking care of me, so they would never let me go.”

Church showed her the ring.

“Maybe they will with this,” he said and told her his plan.

Church went into the living room. Greta and Harold sat on the sofa pouring over pictures of new cars in magazines. Harold had never worked, and after they had spent the money that he’d inherited from his grandparents many years ago, they had lived off government benefits. Pinky, although an annoyance to them, served them well, with generous carers allowance payments.

“I need to take Pinky to the facility at my cottage for treatment; she needed more help which I can provide there,” said Church.

Harold and Greta looked at one another. “Will we get extra payments?” asked Harold.

Church shook his head and said, “No, but the treatment is free.”

The Pinquist’s mumbled and whispered to each other shaking their heads.

Church and Pinky knew they weren’t about to allow their golden goose to go anywhere without an incentive. Church took the letter from the table, folded it and added, “Oh, and Sharon told me she would give you the ring if you’d let me help her. But I understand if you aren’t happy to let her come.”

“Oh!” exclaimed Harold, looking as if someone had just taken away his favourite toy. “Let’s not be too hasty, Church.” he stammered, “If you think you can help her. Sharon already seems a lot better since you arrived.”

“Yes,” agreed Greta. “Maybe for a short while will be okay, she is eighteen now, so can make her own decisions.”

* * *

“Isn’t greed great?” said Church, driving along the motorway.

“Yeah, I knew those two greedy parents of mine would jump at the chance for the money. The only problem is, what happens when they find out the ring did not belong to the Queen of Denmark and isn’t worth that much?” enquired Pinky from the passenger seat.

“Oh, that,” smiled Church.

“The ring was one of my favourite rewards. I will explain how that works later, but it was given to me by…”

“Just get on with it,” Pinky interrupted and feigned a yawn.

Church smiled and continued,

“What I said about the ring was almost true. It was from the 19th century. However, it did not belong to Alexandrine of Mecklenburg-Schwenn, nor was it made by Jensen. It’s a Sybil Dunlop ring and made for the wife of Logie Baird. I estimate the value to be around the same and knowing your parents, even for such a short period, I imagine they will not care about anything but its value.”

“Made for Yogi Bear’s wife, that’s cool,” Pinky chuckled.

“Logie Baird, not Yogi Bear,” Church continued, “He invented the television.” Church saw Pinky smirking and knew she was joking. He smiled as Pinky then asked,

“So why feed them all that rubbish about Denmark then smartarse, hmm?”

“Well, it would’ve sounded stupid saying Heidi had a ring from England when she’d never been away from Denmark in her life, wouldn’t it?” said Church, sounding smug.

“Hmm, I suppose so,” Pinky said, shrugging her shoulders.

“Besides, it made them feel guilty about not visiting Heidi,” said Church.

Pinky asked question after question during the ride to the cottage. Church told her he would explain later and relieved when he pulled up outside the front door of the cottage. Pinky felt happy; it was just as Church had described and how she had imagined.

“It looks like it’s had a woman’s touch,” she commented.

Church laughed and helped her unload her belongings from the car boot, went inside, and showed her to one of the upstairs rooms.

“This will be your room. Anything you need, just ask. You unpack, and I’ll cook us something to eat and show you around,” said Church, leaving Pinky to accustom herself to her new surroundings. For the first time in her life, she felt comfortable and had a sense of belonging.

* * *

Greta and Harold went upstairs to clean Pinky’s room after she and Church drove away. They felt delighted and had already picked out which model of Toyota they wanted.

They went inside the room and noticed how tidy Pinky had left it. Her medications and a tin of marijuana rolled cigarettes, arranged neatly on the bedside cabinet top, with a note leaning against the water carafe, which read:

‘I won’t need these. I’m going home.’

They looked puzzled for a fleeting moment and then went back to discussing their Toyota.

Pinky showered and started putting her clothes away into a wardrobe. Church knocked on the door.

“Sorry to disturb you Pinky, but we have some visitors who I think you’ll want to meet,” he said.

“I didn’t hear anyone knocking,” said Pinky as she walked outside the room. They both went downstairs and into the portal room, with Church chuckling.

Church led Pinky over to the portal, “This is the portal I told you about. Meet my grandmother Pearl and your auntie Heidi.” He said.

Pinky stood facing the portal, screwed up her face, looked at Church, and said, “There’s nothing there; although I can smell of Brussels sprouts and tulips… Oh, and now something else.”

“That’s Brylcreem you can now smell,” said Granny Pearl. “Happy birthday Sharon.”

“Hello Sharon.” said Grandpa Jack, “Welcome home.”

“Oh, Hi Jack,” said Pinky, “What’s happening?”

“Church will explain everything later, and better. Won’t you Churchill?” said Granny Pearl, chastising him.

Church, still confused, stammered as Granny Pearl continued, “Meet your auntie, Heidi.”

“Happy Birthday Sharon,” said Heidi, and with spirits communicating through thought, Pinky had a happy conversation with Heidi about their lives.

Church stood back frowning and kept glancing at his smirking grandparents.

Auntie and niece finished their conversation and Granny Pearl said, “You’ve done excellent work, Church, although you need to teach Sharon a lot more.”

Church felt he was being ‘buttered’ up, like a lamb going to the slaughter. Although he had only known Pinky for a short time, he’d become fond of this jovial, troubled girl, although more like a father opposed to a husband, and he certainly felt no throbbing passion for this teenager. Pinky felt the same depth of passion for Church… Zero.

Granny Pearl continued, “Treasure’s not your reward this time, Church. It’s far more important.”

Church, becoming frustrated, said, “Okay, Gran, let’s cut to the chase… When and where?”

“When and where what, Churchill?” Granny Pearl asked and Church could hear Jack and Heidi giggling.

“When are we to marry? I presume you will give us directions on that; you seem to meddle with everything else in my life.”

“Marry!” exclaimed Granny Pearl chuckling. “Who mentioned anything about marriage?”

“But you’ve been insinuating ever since I started this case about marriage, talking about Chosen-ones and the fact I am getting older, and this one was special, but no treasure etc.”

Granny Pearl chuckled. “I never mentioned your Chosen-one, Church, Sharon is not a Chosen-one, but a Guide and a special one. Didn’t you realise that when she couldn’t see us?”

Church groaned and said, “Yes I thought that was strange… You buggers have been winding me up.”

Laughter came from the portal.

“What are you laughing at?” asked Church, glaring at Pinky.

“Hard luck Bob Hoskins, Perhaps, you’ll find someone your age.”

Church chuckled as Granny Pearl still smirking, told them, “We have had a great deal of turmoil in the spirit world since the demon spirit entered almost two decades ago. It would be unwise for you to meet your eternal partner now. However, Heidi wanted her niece settled and content with her gift. Sharon will be your apprentice, so you can teach her the ways of our worlds,” said Pearl.

“You bloody spirits have a wicked sense of humour,” said Pinky, a sentiment echoed by Church. Laughter filled the room.

The Portals blue flame glowed again as another crimson spirit joined the group. It was Peter, Heidi’s old Spirit Guide.

“Are you ready Heidi?” asked Peter.

“Yes,” said Heidi and told Church and Pinky, “Thank you both. I am now going to the afterlife with Peter, so I wish you both all the happiness and luck you deserve in life. Pinky, learn from Church, he is a wonderful Keeper, stay safe and be wise,”

Peter and Heidi fused into one intense ball of crimson light and euphoria surged through Church and Pinky. Their energy then disappeared, leaving Granny Pearl and Jack.

“Was Peter the reason why Heidi doesn’t want to stay a Spirit Guide?” Church asked.

“Yes,” said Pearl. “They fell in love after spending all those years together talking as Spirit Guide and clairvoyant, although they couldn’t be together in life, they can spend eternity together.”

Granny Pearl sniggered and said, “Sorry about you two. I think you would have made a lovely couple.”

“Yeah, and she would stop you bathing in that stink that you call Brut,” added Grandpa Jack, chortling.

“Yeah, very funny, you old fossils,” smiled Church.

Pinky marvelled at the euphoric feeling she was experiencing.

“Wow! I feel great. I’ve never felt this good before, not even on cannabis,” she said grinning.

“Sorry child, that was the only time you will experience this emotion, only Keepers have this part of the gift,” Pearl told her.

“Lucky bastard,” said Pinky, light-heartedly.

“Hah, and that is me Miss Pinquist, my young apprentice,” joked Church, with a condescending air of mocking superiority.

“Don’t be so cocksure, my boy,” interrupted Granny Pearl. “Your wife will also have this power with her gift.”

“Hmm, not that again,” Church groaned, “I think we have established that I am not to marry yet.”

“Not yet… but soon Church… very soon.”

“What do you mean, very soon?” Church asked.

Granny Pearl and Grandpa Jack faded, still sniggering.

“What do you mean by, very soon?” Church repeated.

Pinky basked in her euphoric state, as Church shouted at the now empty portal,

“Granny Pearl!”

Silence.

“Granny Pearl!”

“Bloody woman’s done her disappearing act again,” said Church sounding frustrated.

Pinky stood and sniffed the air.

“When I first came in, I could smell Brussels sprouts and tulips, but it’s gone now,” said Pinky.

“Don’t get accustomed to the tulip smell, that was your auntie Heidi,” grumbled Church, now in a foul mood.

The Paranormal Assisted Treasure Hunter was now Hunters.

PNK183: Apprentice and family: 2009 : Case Closed.

7

If you’re going through hell, keep going.

On a crisp spring morning in the Kinzigtal alpine valley, puffs of white smoke billowed out of the stone chimney of an isolated white Nordic stone cottage. A pleasant aroma from the cottage drifted on the breeze as Twigg Hansen and his pregnant wife, Freda, prepared their meals for the day. Bread baking in the wood-fired oven gave the cottage and surroundings a homely smell. Twigg and Freda, a young married German couple, lived at the cottage. Twigg worked his land and took care of livestock while Freda took care of the household chores. She visited the nearby town of Schenkenzell on occasions if a resident who lived there had a problem that Freda could help with. Their secluded, simple life was idyllic and far different from the rest of their country, with its previously decadent features now war-ravaged and rubble. Twigg and Freda knew nothing about the Second World War and the stupidity that had been devastating the mortal world for many years. This homestead and the Hansen Clan had survived untouched and unhindered for millennia… until now.

* * *

Twigg and Freda had finished eating breakfast when an invisible force shocked the couple, sending an icy chill through them both. Twigg was a tall, well-built, German man with long blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. It seemed hard to imagine that anything could put fear into this individual, but something had. He went outside and heard a distant rumble coming from within the dense Black Forest. Feeling a sense of foreboding, he heard a drone of engines above him and looked up. He saw large round parachutes with men and equipment, drifting down from an aeroplane and heading towards the cottage.

Twigg watched as they neared the ground. One, in particular, caught his attention. He gasped and rushed inside to Freda.

Hans Kruger and his crack commandos landed on the soft earth in the clearing surrounding the cottage and removed their parachutes and other items they carried with them. Kruger waited for the last man to land and helped the clumsy man remove his parachute. The shell-shocked Jewish man took his spectacles from his pocket and nodded at Kruger as he put on and adjusted his glasses.

Kruger looked down and smirked at Erik, “Wait here,” he ordered.

After checking his men were armed and prepared, Kruger and his six commandos’ ran toward the small cottage and stopped at the door.

Kruger gave hand signals and a soldier barged the door, which splintered and fell. The first soldier crashed through the doorway and a look of horror came across his face as he received a blow on his head from a large sledgehammer wielded by Twigg. A second soldier charged in receiving the same greeting. Both soldiers with their heads and faces covered in blood splayed out on the floor. Twigg stood back with rage in his eyes and waited.

Hans Kruger, seeing the demise of his men, looked inside the cottage at Twigg, who smiled as if beckoning him to enter. His remaining commandos had their weapons trained on Twigg, but they had strict orders not to shoot, with him needed alive.

Kruger walked through the doorway and the two giant men stood facing each other.

“What do you want,” snarled Twigg, glaring at Kruger.

“Put the hammer down, now!” said Kruger pointing his weapon at Twigg’s head.

Twigg, afraid for his and Freda’s lives, swung his large hammer at Hans, who moved out of the way and smashed the stock of his MP40 submachine gun into Twigg’s jaw, stunning him. Twigg stood back and shook his head to regain his faculties. Hans then fired the machine gun into the air as a warning and again pointed the gun at Twigg.

“Drop the hammer,” ordered Hans.

Hans’s remaining commandos came in. Still pointing their weapons at Twigg, they looked at their fallen comrades now groaning on the floor.

Twigg looked at the commandos, and with a steely glare charged at them, wielding his hammer like the mighty god Thor. He swung at Kruger, who again dodged the blow and they all attempted to subdue this tiger of a man with hand-to-hand techniques, ramming their weapons hard into his body, which proved ineffective. Twigg and his hammer wreaked havoc amongst the tough battle-hardened warriors.

The skirmish went on for several moments until the last member of the assault team stumbled through the door. Suddenly, the fighting ceased. Twigg’s body appeared to go limp. His hammer fell to his side as he stared at the newcomer. The bruised and bloodied commandos again pointed their weapons at the shaking, and now subdued Twigg.

“I told you to wait outside,” snapped Kruger.

Erik smiled at Kruger and then looked at Twigg, “Where is your Guide?” he asked.

Hans’s commandos looked amazed and felt confused about how Twigg had no fear of them, yet appeared terrified by an insignificant, puny Jew.

Twigg said nothing and gasped for air as Erik repeated, “Where is your Guide?”

A commando pushed Twigg onto a chair as Erik looked around.

“Come with me,” ordered Erik. He and Kruger went upstairs and Erik went over to a large pine cupboard in the bedroom and opened the door.

Freda sat trembling in the cupboard and glared at Erik as Kruger motioned her with his gun to come out.

They took her downstairs and directed her to a stool to sit beside her husband. The commandos went outside to fetch in the equipment that parachuted down with them, while Erik Jan Hanussen sat on a stool in front of the Hansen’s, grinning like the Cheshire cat.

“What do you want demon?” asked Twigg.

Erik said nothing. He kept looking at the cellar door and smiling.

Over the next hour, men took equipment into the cottage cellar. Twigg and Freda sat and held hands, comforting each other while trying to figure out what was happening at their portal. “We must let my father know, the spirit world will know what to do,” whispered Twigg, who also felt concerned about the rumbling outside getting louder.

Once they had installed the equipment to Erik’s satisfaction, Hans came up from the cellar holding a Luger pistol and motioned for Twigg and Freda to go with him into the cellar.

Erik waited at the bottom of the steps and grinned when he saw the shocked expressions on the faces of the couple when they saw what now lay in their portal room. Twigg gasped when he saw the pentagram and symbols that surrounded their portal and had protected their family for generations, stripped off the wooden floor and replaced with other symbols that he knew and feared.

The couple turned around and saw an empty glass room resembling a large aquarium with a door. The Hansen’s looked inside the room at what looked like a glass coffin placed at its centre, with drawings and scripts painted on the walls of the glass room and the coffin. Twigg felt concerned and looked at Freda after reading the ancient texts on both glass compartments.

Hans beckoned them over to the glass rooms door and shoved Freda through the glass door and over to the coffin.

Twigg, enraged, was about to attack Hans again when Erik shouted, “Come here, Keeper.”

Twigg trembled and went over to Erik standing with the commandos by the portal, while Hans Kruger ordered Freda to lie down in the coffin.

Freda rubbed her stomach, comforting her unborn infant as Hans closed the lid. He picked up a large jar marked ‘Schwefel’, Sulphur and poured the powder in a circle around the coffin.

Twigg became furious when he looked back and saw this and punched the soldier closest to him. The other troopers tried to mob him, hoping they would not get a repeated thrashing. A scuffle never occurred, as Erik moved in front of Twigg, who went numb. Erik walked forward, forcing Twigg to back up towards the Hansen’s portal.