Remember The Past's Demons

Remember the Past's Demons 6

Warning: This part does have the description of a murder covered as a suicide by children. Just skip the end where Markus is going home and you'll be fine.

Leaving the room where he had been meeting with the Master, Markus pulled off his robe and curled it up, tucking it under one arm before opening the front door. Walking down to his car, he unlocked it with his key chain and slipped into it, closing the door behind him. Alone finally, he shoved his cloak into the bag that he kept in his car and tossed it into the backseat with a sneer.

"This kid is a joke. I swear," he muttered to his rearview mirror. Blue eyes that had gained a few crow's feet over the years stared back at him as he rubbed at his chin. "Forty-five years old and I still look good. But if I'm not careful this food will end up with all of us fucked. Probably would have already if me and Jac hadn't been trained by our father's to deal with the more idiot of that family. His father must be rolling in his grave."

Shaking his head to clear that thought, he pulled out his phone. Unlocking it, he found the number he wanted and called it. "Yes?" came the answer. "Does the Master of need of me? He does remember that I do have a life right? Including classes to attend tomorrow," Jac drawled.

"I could be calling you to have some fun," Markus replied.

"No. You would call up my dear brother or sister for such things. Or both because, you know, twins. What do you need now?" Jac asked him.

Markus hummed. "You have classes with the one named Richard, correct?" he asked.

"Yes. What? Do you need me to seduce him or something?"

"Or something. The Master wants you to get into the house and figure out where they are with the fixing of the house. We could use an updated layout while you're at it to," Markus told him.

"Markus...you do realize that I can't...No. Wait. Maybe I can do this. There's an upcoming project that requires us to work with someone. I've worked with him in the past. Give me a week and I will be able to get into his house easily," Jac said. Markus sighed at that. "I will contact you when I have something to tell you. But do give me time. If the Master starts to get antsy, remind him that the proper month is still three and a half months away," he said.

"I'll remind him if he says anything. Don't worry. Look, all we need is for you to get in, and get the information. Pictures would be nice. Figure out all that you can while you're there. Hell, if you need to, fuck one or the other if it means you can get upstairs to." Markus rubbed at his face, feeling his hand catch on his stubble. "But we need to make sure that they don't take down that damn room."

Jac snorted. "I think he was saying that he was thinking about turning it into a large laundry room with some storage attached to it," he mused. "The altar can be replaced if need be and it's not as if we don't have to lay the circles down each time we do our rituals. You know all the right accounts correct?"

"Yeah, yeah, I do. And you'll get your full payment after you get your job done for us." Jac just laughed at him, a low, throaty, cold sound, before he hung up. "If I didn't know any better, I'd swear that he was as insane as his father."

"Now, now. Jac and his father are two of my best people," a smooth voice said from the back seat. For all that it was cultured with no accent that he could pin down, and the tone was light and almost teasing, Markus felt as if Death itself has taken a hold of his spine in a cold hand and stroked it tenderly.

Turning around to stare at the backseat, Markus swallowed when he found a tortoise coat cat that stared back at him with honey gold eyes. "How the ever loving fuck did you get in here? No...fuck that, what the fuck are you?" he hissed.

The smug look that came over the cat seemed oddly odd for a cat, much less any creature but humans. The fact that it answered his question scared him. "I can get in where ever I wish to, Markus. And you should know who I am. You really should read some of those older books that your grandmother and mother left you. Though, I am going to suggest that you turn to face forward, start your car, and head to your home. There is much to prepare for, and I will need your hands. Starting with my first soul."

Markus shivered at the cool instructions, a mix of anticipation, unholy fear, and glee mixing deep in his gut. Doing just as the being that was posing as a cat had instructed, he returned to his home, wondering what he found. Finding his wife in the basement bathroom, laying in the tub in an obvious suicide, he hummed.

As he watched his daughter, holding the cat as if he had been a part of the family for years, instruct her brother in how best to place the pill bottle just right, he remembered his first kill. He had killed his father, while his mother had watched, castrating him slowly before killing him because he had a wandering eye.

Unlike his wife, his body had never been found and it had been decided that he had run off into the swamp. Either way, the gators had made quick work of his body.

Instructing his children on how best to act as if they were distraught with the passing of their mother, he shuffled them out of the room and up to their shared bedroom. Calming himself down from his excitement as the cat that had gotten into his car watched from the stairs, he called the police. He became the overwrought husband and worried father as he told the police that his wife had killed herself.

The cat just continued to smirk smugly.