Silent Night, Unholy Rite

         He woke in a cold sweat, barely stifling the natural scream. Of all the changes in his life of late, he hated the dreams most of all. This one was the worst he'd suffered through.

         He'd been clutched in the hands of something foul. It was like Frankenstein's monster, but not the silly square head, bolts in the neck version. More like the recent one with Hopkins. Just something that had been stitched together out of other people. It was strangling him as Oh Holy Night rang out of nowhere. Thing was, the words were different, it went more like "Unholy blight, the stars will darken and die."

         He sat up in bed, memories of who he was and where he lived flooding back to him. He was no stranger to morning amnesia, but it still disturbed him. The last thing his clearing mind told him was that it was the day before Christmas.

         Knowing something to do with the dream would be there, he grabbed the remote and flipped on the TV.

         A man in a suit stood in front of a patch of land. The black sky indicated that it was not live. The story was probably from at least a few hours ago. He was in the middle of saying something.

         "...remains of six people have been unearthed. The police have made no comment about the bodies, who they might have been, or who might have buried them here. There is currently no word on how old these corpses are, or why they are here in this particular spot. We can only wonder. This is Harold Reeves reporting."

         As the TV dimmed back to silence, the phone replaced it's sound. He picked it up and said, "Carter. Who's this?"

         "Gabe? Rick here. You see the news?"

         "Yeah Rick, just turned it off. Looks like a strange one all right. How long ago was the feed done?"

         "Reporter was at the site about four hours ago. We finished exhuming the remains an hour later and brought them back for examination. It's looking more and more like this is going to be right up your alley my friend."

         "I know I'll regret asking, but why do you say that?"

         "Each of the six bodies is missing something, and each one has something carved into it."

         "You figure these are some kind of ritual killings then?"

         "We're not sure what to think, but it looks like a possibility at this point. I'd love it if you came in and told us we were way off, but I've got a feeling that isn't what you'll have to say."

         "Two hours from now good?"

         "Yeah, that'll be fine. I better warn you, though, it's not going to be a pretty sight. You may want to skip breakfast."

         "Warning taken. Bye."

         As he hung up the phone, Gabriel heaved himself off the bed. It creaked as he rose. Once his weight was off it, it sprang up a couple of inches.

         He got into the shower, eager to get the scent of the nightmare off himself. After the shower, he stared into the mirror. It had become a morning ritual for him. Stand and stare, and wonder why he had ended up in this position. Was his current calling a result of what he had done, or was what he had done a preparation for what he was now required to do? Heaving a sigh that nearly caused the small window to rattle, he returned to the bedroom to prepare for the day.

         He didn't suffer from the problems so many others did in deciding what to wear. He was restricted in buying what would fit him. He got rather tired of always shopping at the few 'Big and Tall' shops, but without them, he would have no choice but to live in a nudist colony. Again he felt compelled to ask, was he chosen because of his size, or was he born this way because of his future? It always made his head hurt, so he finally stopped and got on with life.

         Pausing at the bookcases, he marveled at the ones with his name on them. Those were why he was heading to the main precinct station this fine morning. He had earned a name for being a local expert on cult and ritual crimes, so when something like this morning's discovery came up, he was often asked to consult for the department. Of course, the books were his main source of income, but his dealings with the police gave him an edge in his other endeavors.

         He stretched his arm up to signal a cab. He figured it would take a bit of time. Cabbies in this city were often reluctant to stop for someone as big as Gabriel Carter. Luckily, the third cab to come up the street was driven by someone he knew, Sam. He was happy about that. She was a sweet woman, even if Gabriel harbored suspicions that she could take him in a fair fight.

         He hopped in the back, and the tires flattened slightly. Sam looked back at him. "Morning Gabe. Where to today?"

         "Main precinct Sam. How's the Super bowl looking?"

         "Same as every year, Gabe. Like a bunch of guys playing a stupid game for more money than I'll see in a life time."

         Gabriel and Sam bantered back and forth the whole ride to the station. As usual, Gabriel gave her a five dollar tip, and she acted like it was the most money she'd see in a year.

         Gabriel drew some stares at the station. He spent at least ten minutes standing outside looking at it and thinking. The men and women that worked here served the people of the city, and tried to keep them safe. For the last six months, so had he, but in a different manner, and against very different opposition.

         Finally, before he got arrested, Gabriel entered the station. He went to the front desk and gave his name. Shortly thereafter he was escorted in to the morgue. Most of the cases he had assisted with in an official capacity brought him here. For some reason, cultists never engaged in ritual purse snatching and only rarely in graffiti.

         Rick was already there looking at a group of bodies. "Morning Gabe. Glad you could come on short notice."

         "The cases you call me in on don't normally allow for much delay. What have we got?"

         Rick waved Gabriel over to the table where the bodies were on display. He was examining them with clinical detachment. Gabe doubted Rick had ever allowed himself to be sickened by what he saw. He must have mastered all the stress relief methods they taught in the academy.

         There were six bodies on the table. They seemed to be a cross section of inner city life. Rick commented, "They're all the sorts of people no one is likely to miss. Who ever is doing this knows how to pick them and how to hide them. We only found it because some jackass ran his car off the road. The impact dug up part of one of the corpses. Like I told you, each body's missing something."

         Rick pointed around the table. "He's got no hands. She's got no feet. These two are missing right and left arms respectively. These two are each missing a leg, again one right and one left. And each one his this weird mark carved on the back of the neck." Rather than roll one over Rick brought out a set of photographs. "Looks like Chinese to me."

         Gabriel looked at the pictures. Rick was looking up at him, since he towered over the Detective. The things carved into the bodies did look a little like Chinese characters. Gabriel said, "I think these denote what was taken. The way the lines in the figures are connected look a bit like a complex stick figure, and there is a different line or set of lines missing on each one. I'm not sure what these ones to the side of the main figure are, though. They are the same in each case."

         "Do you think it's the work of a cult?"

         "Can never be totally sure, but I'd say this is all the work of one person. These figures look to be done about the same way in each case. Almost no variation at all. I'd say they were done by the same person each time."

         "Well that's a relief, if a small one. A single serial killer is as bad as a cult as far as I'm concerned. I guess we're going to have to do some much heavier patrolling. Thanks for the hints. If you can think of anything that might help, let me know. You've got my number. Be a nice Christmas present to catch whoever this is tomorrow."

         Gabriel looked back at the corpses once more. "I can tell you, when I see stuff like this, I'm glad I'm agnostic."

         Rick looked at him and asked, "Why's that? I always like to pray when things like this come up."

         "Sure, but you just pray to one God. I've got a selection. And when I see stuff like this, the more the merrier as far as I'm concerned."

Rick chuckled. "I guess we really are our parent's children. I was born and raised to my faith. But you, never baptized, never been a church goer, nothing. And born on Christmas day of all things."

"Oh sure, and you believe Jesus was born in the middle of winter and Shepherds were watching their flocks by night too? It's just a date of convenience, Rick. Me, I know there' something out there, but I don't think we'll ever figure out just what, so I'll keep my options open."

"Well, if you look into the entrails of any pigs or anything, let me know what you find out."

         Gabriel couldn't help but smile despite the surroundings. "Will do. I'll do what I can to figure out what's going on here."

         That much was true. Of course, most of what he would be doing would never be reported to the police if he could help it.

         Gabriel spent the rest of the morning looking for some clue about the symbols, but found nothing. After lunch, he went back to bed, knowing he would get little sleep during the night.

         When darkness fell, late that evening, Gabriel was prepared. Ever since he started having the dreams six months ago, he had developed a plan of action. Of course it was very general, since the threats he faced were so varied, but he had developed some general guidelines.

         Despite the risk, he didn't carry weapons. They would just give him problems if the police took an interest in him. Besides that, something had changed in him. He was able to hurt the things that went bump in the night with his bare hands when push came to shove. With all the martial arts classes he'd taken, he was reasonably dangerous when he needed to be.

         It was a warm night, so he just put on his usual dark clothing with not too much underneath. He didn't want heat exhaustion to slow him down. Then he left his apartment through the window, and slipped down the fire escape. On the way down, he was once again amazed as he thought about all the things most people were blind to. The things that lurked in the shadows, and some that walked in broad day light. It always shocked him how the things he had studied as an academic interest turned out to be so real. It was a frightening world he lived in, but he felt prepared to deal with it.

         Gabriel trusted to instinct and headed for one of the poorer areas of the city. He had a hunch the docks would be a good place to start. There were a number of abandoned warehouses used by squatters, so not only would there be a ready supply of victims, there would also be some where near by to store the trophies. His hunches on these matters seemed to pay off more often than not lately.

         After a few hours of fruitless hunting, Gabriel was about to give it up as a lost cause when he saw a glint coming from just beyond a near by light.

         Heading that way, he saw someone wrapped in a long black coat approaching a young woman. She didn't look like was out of her teens. She was wearing a dark tee-shirt with a couple of tears in it, a a pair of worn jeans. As the black clothed man approached, she looked up and screamed.

         Gabriel saw the knife in the other man's hand, and charged forward calling to the girl to run. The black coated man turned to face him. His face was wrapped in a black scarf. He looked like the Shadow, except he was no pulp novel hero

         Gabriel was relying on his size and the element of surprise, and the fact that the knife holder must be roasting in those clothes. As he closed with the other man, the knife fell, and Gabriel found him self hauled off his feet, and hurled down the alley formed by two dark buildings. He crashed to the ground stunned. He heard the screaming cut off into a wet gurgling, then fall silent.

         Recovering his breath, Gabriel leaped to his feet and saw the man running. Gabriel ran after him, and glanced down at the girl. His determination grew on seeing the wound in her throat, and the now empty sockets where her eyes had been.

         Gabriel quickly lost sight of the man in the maze of buildings. He had no clue where his quarry had gone. Then his eyes were drawn to a high window where he saw light playing. He moved to the building, and found an open door.

         Gabriel prowled the darkness within the old warehouse. He could discern shapes all around the building, but nothing that might lead him to where he needed to be. Then out of nowhere a blinding light flared to life.

         "Freeze, police. Don't move, don't even breathe. Gabe? What are you doing here?" The flashlight moved from Gabriel's eyes, revealing Rick's face.

         "Rick? I'm researching a new book. Modern myth sort of things. The homeless always seem to have some good urban legends. I saw a light in here and figured maybe I could get some information from whoever was living here. Door wasn't locked..."

         "The light was probably mine. I saw someone duck in here. All in black. Looked a bit suspicious to me. I'm kind of glad you're here. I've called for back up but nothing's going to be available for a while yet. You're no armed officer, but I've seen you in a fight before. Come upstairs and I'll show what I found. Maybe you can make something of it. Oh, by the way, it's midnight, merry Christmas, and Happy Birthday."

         Gabriel followed Rick and replied, "I'd rather be celebrating anywhere else right now."

         Richard lead Gabriel into a room that was probably once an office. There was a second door at the back, and Gabriel could see something in the dirty window in at the top.

         Richard pointed to a large white container hooked up to a humming gas generator. "Take a look inside. Tell me what you think."

         Gabriel opened the top, and felt a blast of cold air. There were more body parts within. If he had to guess, there would be two corpses, one missing a torso, and one a groin. The pictograms on the two staring faces seemed to indicate this, anyway.

         As he closed the freezer, Rick said, "Come on, the worst is yet to come." Rick opened the door at the far end of the room. He opened it and walked through, Gabriel close behind.

         Gabriel had encountered a number of vile things in the past six months, but they did not prepare him for this. The stench of rot alone nearly made him gag. But the vision of a body sewn together from many parts, hands nailed to a wall to keep it upright was truly disturbing. Gabriel looked at Rick. "Looks like we know what the killer's been doing. Why becomes the active question now."

         "I really don't care about motive at this point. I just hope I can find the perp."

         Gabriel scanned the room. He saw a dark pile on the floor. Walking over to it and bending down, he found a long dark coat, much like the one the killer had been wearing. He turned to call Rick's attention to it, and saw his friend slamming the gun toward his head.

         If he hadn't turned at that moment, he would have taken the force of the blow to his skull. As it was, he raised an arm, and heard a loud crack as pain lanced up through his shoulder.

         "Rick, what the hell are you doing?"

         "Just getting the last piece of the puzzle, Gabe. The other parts were easy, could come from anyone, but the heart? I needed something special for that. What better than the heart of a man unbaptized who was born on the day of the celebration of Jesus' birth? And my master agreed that it was perfect. Now hold still, I don't want to damage it."

         Rick aimed the gun at Gabriel's head, but as the trigger began to depress, Gabriel rolled out of the way. He could feel chips from the floor strike his temple as he leaped to his feet.

         It was a very different fight this time. Gabriel knew his opponent was much stronger than him. This meant he did not charge in blindly. He feinted a strike to Rick's head, and when Rick tried to block it, kicked out at Rick's wrist. The gun clattered away, stopping beneath a foot of the grotesque patchwork figure.

         Rick had training from his academy days, but Gabriel was a far more accomplished fighter. Rick's inhuman strength made him a dangerous opponent, however. Every blow Gabriel blocked jarred his bones. The pain from his broken arm also slowed Gabriel down.

         Rick kept Gabriel on the defensive, raining blow after blow on him. Then he lashed out at Gabriel's injured arm. Gabriel spun out of the way and swept Rick's legs from under him. As he fell, Gabriel followed up with a powerful kick to Rick's abdomen, then a third to the head. He was amazed when Rick began staggering back to his feet.

         Gabriel bolted for the fallen gun and swept it up in his good hand. As Rick stood, Gabriel pointed it and yelled, "Don't move Rick. It's over. You need serious..."

         He was unable to finish the sentence. He heard a sound behind him. It was like the creaking of old boards on a ship. Then powerful hands grabbed him by the throat. At the two wrists, Gabriel could see stitching. The gun went off, and a crimson spot appeared on Rick's forehead. At his ear, Gabriel heard a voice like keys scraping off new paint from a car. "Give me my heart!"

         The hands kept him from pulling away, so Gabriel drove his head back. The thing that held him released it's grip. Gabriel turned and his fears were confirmed. The patchwork man had pulled the nails from the wall and was standing on its own.

         Acting on instinct and fear, Gabriel launched kicks and punches to the creature. He aimed the kicks at the stitched areas, desperately trying to break the seams. As the thing staggered back, Gabriel drove the toes of his shoe into the throat, and followed with the heel of his other foot into the thing's chin. The blows tore the stitching free and its head flew from the body.

         As it lay twitching, the head spewing curses and vows of vengeance, Gabriel dragged a gas can from the outer office, and soaked the monstrosity. Then he fired a shot into it, sparking a blaze.

         Leaving the now burning building, Gabriel headed for a hospital. He thought it was lucky he was a writer, since he was going to need to come up with a good story to explain the broken arm. He also knew he wouldn't need any outside help to come up with nightmares to drag him from sleep.