New York, August 2009
"Do you break into cemeteries often?"
"Hm?" Richard Castle looked up from the files on his phone and turned his head towards Detective Beckett, who was sitting on the back bench. "Not that often." He waited until she had nodded to continue. "We've got keys to all the major cemeteries, to make patrolling for new vampires easier."
He thought she muttered "why did I ask" under her breath, but he wasn't certain - Vi was driving, and the big engine's roar was not completely muted by the car's insulation.
"Anyway. We'll be checking for vampires on the way to the grave…." Castle glanced down "... of Elias Brighton."
"You mean I will be checking for them. Unless you want to play bait," Vi cut in while taking a turn so sharply, Castle thought the right side wheels lost contact with the road for a second.
"It's a team effort," he smirked. Turning more serious, he addressed Beckett again. "Since we don't know what we might encounter, I'll be taking the Ack Pack." Seeing her puzzled look, he added: "British flamethrower model from the Second World War. My favorite."
"The Doughnut of Death!"
"Thank you, Vi. Anyway, a crossbow would be traditional, but I'd suggest a shotgun with Dragon's Breath rounds for you. We're not in Britain, and it'll finish a fledgling vampire easily. And it won't kill a human hit by it. Burn them, yes, but not kill." Hopefully, that would make the detective less prone to hesitate - some people had trouble shooting human-looking bloodsuckers. Some Star Trek fans allegedly even had trouble shooting the vampires with their demon faces on, but he thought that was an urban legend. Or a prank from Xander.
Beckett nodded, looking a bit queasy.
Twenty minutes later, they were walking past grave after grave while Rick tried to make sense of the layout of the cemetery and Vi was trying to sense any undead in the area. So far, neither had had any success, but hopefully, Beckett wouldn't notice.
"We're lost, aren't we?"
Damn. "We're taking the scenic tour, so Vi can sense any undead trying to dig themselves out of their graves. It would be bad if we were jumped by a freshly-risen and very hungry vampire while digging a grave up."
"Ah."
Hiding a grin, Castle continued trying to find Brighton's grave. It took him ten minutes, but he managed it. Vi hadn't sensed any vampire though.
Beckett knelt down and felt the grass, fingers tracing the soil. Castle was about to ask what she was doing, when she suddenly held up a grass sod. "Someone's been covering up something."
"Oh, smooth!" Castle smiled while Vi frowned. The Slayer frowned even more when he nodded at the uncovered grave. "OK, your turn."
"Why me?"
"You're the Slayer, you're the one with superhuman strength, endurance…"
"Hotness!"
"... and the ability to procrastinate more than a college fraternity."
Turning to Beckett, he added: "Just like when we had to dig up the Hellmouth.", then had to dodge the first shovelful of earth thrown his way.
Fifteen minutes later, they stared at an open casket with a shrunken corpse in it, next to the cut up remains of a noose.
"Freshly cut, but a very old rope," Beckett declared, after climbing down and checking it.
"Sealing runes on the inside of the lid," Rick pointed at the sigils. "Inlaid with silver - this was a demon's prison."
"There's silver thread in the hemp rope too." The detective held up a piece of the ancient hemp rope.
Rick took several pictures with his phone. "I'll mail the details to London, but I think we can assume that to be defeated, the demon has to be hung with a rope with silver thread, then buried in such a casket."
"There's still a corpse here," Beckett pointed out.
"That's probably the man it possessed back then."
"Oh."
Judging by her expression, she too had realized that they'd have to hang a possessed man. "What about an exorcism?"
"Those seldom work well, but maybe London has a few ideas." Castle wasn't really expecting anything, and didn't try to hide that.
"Can't we leave it open?" Vi complained a minute later, shoveling earth on the casket. "I'll just have to dig it up again once we have the demon."
"Of course not! That would be unsafe. Even Slayers can fall into graves carelessly left open." Castle shook his head.
"I'm not a Californian, I'd be fine."
"Not once I tell Buffy you said that."
Vi coughed and shoveled harder.
"Buffy?" Beckett asked.
"The oldest Slayer."
"I'll tell Buffy you described her like that!"
"The most experienced and most skilled and most powerful Slayer," Rick hastily corrected himself.
"I'll tell Faith you said that!"
"Ah." Beckett looked like she had just realized something, but she didn't say anything else until the grave had been filled again.
"Who's the 'Vampire Hunter' styled after Buffy?" the detective finally asked after they were back in the car.
"Branda."
"Branda the Blonde, who was in love with the Loremaster double her age?" Beckett was gaping at him. "That's what you made out of the most experienced Slayer?"
Castle and Vi started laughing, but no matter how much she asked, neither would explain why.
*****
"Miller had eaten human flesh as well? Sounds like a new trend. We'll have to watch out for hipsters taking a bite out of people." Castle whistled while putting Beckett's morning coffee on her desk and reading the file on her screen. He didn't see the reporter around - if she were present, she probably would be on the toilet already. Hopefully, she'd not return until this case was dealt with. It would be better for her stomach, at least.
"Yes. Lanie finished the autopsy this morning." Beckett grabbed her cup. "Thanks, by the way."
"You're welcome. Once is a freak, two though… that sounds like a cabal of cannibals. Who are hunted by a Hanging Demon. Which in turn is hunted by the Police. Do you think that'd be too contrived for Nikki Heat's introduction?"
"A cabal of cannibals?" Beckett sounded dubious. She also ignored his question.
"Yes. Are you familiar with the wendigo myth? The Native American tribes in this area believed that if you ate human flesh, you'd become a wendigo, a monster feeding on humans, never sated, always hungry. Kind of like every model, ever."
"You think those two dead people were trying to become such monsters?" Now she sounded more worried than dubious.
"In some versions of the myth, the wendigo corrupt others. That's how they breed." Castle explained.
"And the Hanging Demon hunts those people down?"
"It looks like it. But that leaves the question of who released it. Miller had the information, but as a cannibal himself, why would he have done that?" Castle rubbed his chin, thinking. He was missing something.
"He might have been tricked into eating human flesh," Beckett offered.
"That would fit some stories about the wendigo. Miller bought the files from Burton's estate months ago. Probably just for his collection. He met someone with the same interests in the occult. They talk, dine together… and he's hooked. Then, somehow, he realizes what was done to him, he looks for a way to counter it. Finds it and releases the demon, but ends up murdered by it." Castle nodded. It did sound right. It made a good story too.
Beckett smiled, looking both pleased and a bit feral. "So, now we need to find out who was tricking people into eating humans. IT should have cracked his computer soon and should give us access to his schedule."
"The wonders of technology. Who knew electronics would make hunting demons easier?" Castle sighed. "It makes converting some stories into Fantasy novels harder. Nikki Heat will change that, of course."
"Demons don't use computers?" Apparently, Beckett didn't want to talk about her future literary alter ego.
"Some do. There even was one demon trying to take over the internet. Or create a robot body. Or both."
"What?"
Castle took a look at her expression, and held up his hands. "Hey… I don't know the details, just some broad story… more like a few hints… really." Willow had been rather adamant about not wanting to talk about that incident. And Castle had been rather fond of his computer security. "But it was handled, trust me."
That didn't seem to reassure Beckett much. She really had to work on that lack of trust issue.
*****
Castle looked at the condo complex, mentally comparing it to his own residence. The building was newer, but its location wasn't as nice as his own. And the apartments looked like they were a bit smaller.
"Trying to guess if you need to upgrade your own home?" Beckett asked while climbing out of the car.
"Don't give Vi ideas!" Castle admonished the detective when he saw the Slayer perking up. He coughed, then tried to change the subject. "So… this is where the Central park victim lived?"
"Yes. Ryan managed to identify him through a dry cleaning stub found in his pants. Alessandro Fernandez. Worked for a Wallstreet day trading firm, and got out before the bubble popped. Apparently a well-known collector of Native American art." Beckett summed the information on the victim up.
"Ah… Native American art. Such a dangerous hobby," Castle said, shaking his head. "He should have stuck to sky diving or alligator wrestling."
Beckett laughed, then stopped when neither Rick nor Vi joined her. Muttering something Castle didn't catch, she entered the building.
Uniformed cops - Castle told himself to simply call them 'uniforms' for the tenth or so time - had already opened the door to the dead man's apartment.
"Quite a bit bigger than ours, Rick!" Vi exclaimed, looking around. It was more like a penthouse, taking over the entire floor.
"Ours?" He glanced at her. "You've got an apartment of your own."
"Which you bought," Vi answered, looking around. "Hm. Think you could buy this penthouse, since the owner's dead?"
"I think we're fine where we are," Castle said, glaring at his Slayer. She wasn't impressed, of course.
"If you're done showing off your money, maybe we could start looking for a killer?" Beckett's tone brooked no argument.
"At once!" Castle stated and started for the closest suspicious - or interesting - looking piece of art or furniture. Vi would, or should, sense the demonically-tainted pieces anyway, so he could indulge his curiosity.
Rick was studying a shaman mask - or a good fake of one - when Beckett called out: "Castle!"
"Yes?" He walked over to where she was talking with a cop.
"They can't reach the housekeeper, a Mister Francis Lee," Beckett informed him.
"Oh? Judging by the dust I saw, he might have been missing for a while. Did you check the fridge?" The human flesh the two dead had eaten had to have come from someone...
"They didn't find any human parts in the kitchen or pantry." Beckett informed him.
"If he wasn't the meal, maybe he was the cook?"
Beckett tensed up - she knew what he was hinting at - and addressed the cop. "We'll check out Lee's apartment." Castle caught her glancing at Vi, who hadn't given any indication yet that she had felt anything demony. Demonic. He really had to do something about the Californisation of his language, before his editor noticed.
He nodded. "Yes, let's go before Vi gets bored."
*****
"That's quite a surprising home for a housekeeper in Manhattan," Castle commented when they reached the address on file for Francis Lee. It was a shabby apartment house in the Bronx.
"He recently moved in." Beckett reported. "Three months ago, until then he was living in his room in Fernandez's apartment."
"That's quite a surprising move. Unless his employer was insufferable, there's no reason to move to… here. No good reason, at least. Are you sure you didn't sense anything in the apartment, Vi?" Castle looked at his Slayer as they got out of the Shelby.
"Only some lingering stench, it was strongest in the kitchen." Vi looked around, and Castle saw she was tensing up.
"Trouble?" He casually dropped a hand to his belt, near his holster.
"Just a feeling. Ugly." Vi stared at the house.
"Let's get the shotguns, just in case. Try silver ammo first, then cold iron, and if that doesn't work, we set it on fire and let Vi beat it up." The sun was setting, and the shadows growing longer and longer. Rick had a bad feeling about this as well.
"You know, before I met you, I didn't enter every second building loaded for bear," the detective commented while she grabbed a shotgun. Castle made a mental note to get her one of her own. Maybe with a customized grip and stock. It would be a good christmas or birthday gift.
"That should be 'loaded for demon', but I understand what you mean. You must have been terribly bored." Castle started for the entrance while Beckett gaped at him and Vi giggled.
Lee's apartment was on the second floor. The elevator was out of order - probably had been so since Reagan's election, given the amount of debris inside the cabin. A few more years, and archeologists would lay claim to the site.
Beckett knocked on the door. No one answered. "Mister Lee? Open up, NYPD!"
Vi snorted.
"Something funny, Vi?" Beckett asked.
"Just heard two deadbolts get slammed shut above us. I guess the other residents don't like the..." Vi suddenly snarled, her nostrils flaring. "It's in there!"
The Slayer kicked the door open, ripping the lock out of the wall in the process, and the stench of rotten meat and decay hit Castle's nose. "Should have thought to bring a mask," he muttered, following Vi into the apartment.
Or what was left of the apartment. Broken and smashed furniture littered the floor, deep gashes had been scratched or cut - or slashed - into the walls, and patches of dried blood were visible under hooks dangling from the ceiling. "Dear Lord, we're standing in a monster's butcher shop!" Castle exclaimed.
"You're standing in my apartment."
Someone wearing a blood-stained apron and what looked like a shaman mask stepped out of the kitchen. He looked unarmed and human, and Beckett reacted predictably. "Mister Lee? Detective Beckett, NYPD. We have a few questions about your employer." She kept her gun ready though.
Whatever Lee had been about to say remained unsaid since Vi charged him right then, kicking him in the face. The force of her blow spun the man around and ripped the mask from his face. He didn't fall down though.
"Vi!" Beckett shouted. "What are you…"
Castle was already shooting. Anything that didn't go down after such a kick from Vi wasn't human. His round hit the man in the chest, staggering him. Instead of dying, or at least screaming and falling down, Lee just smiled, showing yellowed teeth. And his smile kept growing wider and wider, until it literally split his face and revealed the hideous head of a monster covered in shaggy fur.
Vi kicked it again, throwing it against the next wall, and Castle heard bones breaking. They kept breaking, and he realized that the whole body of the thing was changing, growing, rearranging itself.
He shot it again, as did Beckett, but the thing kept changing, ripping out of its human skin and clothes until a shaggy, stooped monster was facing them, drool dripping from razor-sharp yellow teeth and half a foot long claws sliding out of its fingers.
Rick was reloading his shotgun with the cold iron slugs while Vi attacked it with her sword. The wendigo was tough and strong - one of its blows went through the wall as if it was cardboard - but it wasn't quick enough to hit the nimble redhead, and the low ceiling hampered its movements as well.
On the other hand, Vi didn't seem to be able to hurt it much either. The cuts she left on the body were not bleeding much and seemed to be healing already, and it covered its neck and head from Vi's strikes.
"Clear!" Castle shouted, and Vi somersaulted back, her head narrowingly dodging the monster's claws and her feet almost striking the ceiling. Before the Slayer touched the ground again, two shotguns roared and the monster was hit with cold iron and fire. The slug didn't seem to do much, but the Dragon's Breath set its stinking fur on fire, and the wendigo howled in rage and pain.
Vi used the opening provided by the creature's attempts to beat the flames on its body out. The Slayer charged it again with her sword. At the last second, the monster reacted, and lashed out. The redhead was ready though, and ducked under the burning claws, then jumped up, her blade slicing deep into its throat.
Choking and gripping its bleeding neck, the monster staggered back against the battered wall. The Slayer landed on its flank, and lashed out again, cutting the tendons in its left leg. Making a horrible gurgling noise, the wendigo finally fell on the floor, setting trash on fire and splattering blood on the wood.
Vi grinned ferally and went in for the kill, dodging the the flailing arms and striking at its neck as if she was a lumberjack working on a log until the monster's head rolled over the floor.
Breathing hard, Castle stared at it. "Damn."
The two women looked puzzled at his reaction, and so he explained. "It would have been real handy if the wendigo had either changed back to a human form, or turned to ashes."
Beckett groaned. "You're right. I can't report this. And we were heard by the other tenants."
"If in doubt, set fire to the place?" Castle proposed, then winced at the glare he got. Beckett needed to work on her unhealthy aversion against arson too.
*****
"I can't believe I falsified a report," Beckett commented the next evening, sharing a drink in Castle's apartment with him and Vi.
"You didn't. You just omitted a few details. The report clearly stated that the apartment was set afire, that shots were fired on a shaggy creature, and that we had to retreat from the apartment due to the flames. All that happened." Castle refilled his glass.
"Yes. But the exact order of those events was different."
"Details, details. Perlmutter will identify one of the wendigo's victims in the flat as Lee, and explain the shaggy thing as a dog." Castle grinned.
"No one who looks at the data will believe that." Beckett held out her glass, and he refilled it as well.
"No one will look at it. And if anyone digs around, it'll get buried by our contacts higher up the totem pole." He almost reached over to pat her reassuringly on the knee, but he needed his hand for work. And other things. Beckett still didn't seem to believe him, but she'd come around in time. "Anyway, we still have a Noose Demon on the loose. Did you find any suspects that could have served as his vessel?"
"Miller withdrew five thousand dollar from his bank account the day before he died. He probably hired someone to help him dig up Brighton's corpse with that, but we don't know who." Beckett sighed and held a hand up. "Let me guess: It's likely that Miller's hired help ended up possessed by the demon he helped dig up."
"Probably. Those possessions usually go for what is closest."
"So we have a murderous demon vigilante in New York, and we don't know how he looks or what name he might be using, just that he is likely to be using a noose to kill criminals." Beckett finished her drink in one go and held her glass out to him to refill it again.
"Exactly! That's quite a bit more than we usually know about the demons we hunt," Castle told her cheerfully.
Vi, refilling her own glass, nodded emphatically.
"So, here's to another successful case closed!" Castle raised his glass in a toast.
Beckett stared at him, then at Vi, then at her glass. Muttering something about 'contagious craziness', she chugged her drink, then held it out for another refill. All things considered, she was taking this really well.
