Laytesh had only one idea how to begin in finding a being millions of years old who had no desire to be found. Laytesh did have a clue where he could at least begin his journey.

It’s name was T.C., a living phantom. Laytesh had seen his or her handiwork during the rebellion in Egypt. Entire compounds of armed men silenced without a sound. Convoys attacked in the desert with only a single survivor to tell tales of ghosts who vanished in between fountains of blood and fallen comrades.

One night just before he had left for America, he received a visit from these apparitions, as he was packing his bag to leave. He only saw the one but he felt the presence of others, poised to strike him down if thing went awry. This man stood before him with the confident ease of a man used to controlling all around him by the mere virtue of his presence. This man was a born killer, a blade forged for no other purpose but death. The man never spoke just watched Laytesh with curiosity, clearly anticipating a response of some kind. Laytesh, while scared shitless, would not gratify this ghoul by showing his fear overtly. He sat down casually on the bed with a mask of nonchalance over his features and body language.

A portion of his mind noticed the black veil and the strangely patterned brown and tan uniform he wore, clearly not of any military pattern Laytesh had ever seen. Uncaring for the growing feeling of imminent death as he reached casually for the lighter in his pocket and American style cigarettes in his bag, they both knew the spirit/man was in control here but Laytesh would be damned before letting it seem he was cowed into submission. Laytesh light the cigarette and drew a deep puff before offering it to this Harbinger before him. Laytesh got the impression of a smile but the response was a shake of the head. Laytesh puffed again contentedly, drawing out the moment, before speaking the first words of the whole encounter.

“I hope you will pay for my flight if I am late, or split the cost with the men you have here. Before that however, spirits don’t often visit the living without purpose I wish you would get to that, rather than the theatrics.” By the end Laytesh spoke coldly, but otherwise maintained perfect English. The man Laytesh was increasingly certain was American bowed his head to acknowledge his point and moved swiftly to produce a pen and a sheet of paper. He wrote a note quickly and handed it to Laytesh while making the pen vanish into a sleeve, followed quickly by an appearing knife from the same sleeve.

Does he have a rabbit up there too? Laytesh thought as he painted a smile for the knife and forced himself to ignore it while he read the note.

Laytesh, my men and I have greatly valued your work in the freedom of your people. From one professional to another you have my respect. If you need ANYTHING, let me know by sticking this note in a book called the Art of War by Sun Tzu, I’m sure you know it, in the city library at Killian in California or Justice in West Virginia. One of us will respond within twenty-four hours and meet face to face with you. We will supply you with anything you request on any endeavor. I only ask you tell us what the task is and if we need YOUR assistance you respond in kind. This pact I seal in my blood. Careful, I’m coming with that knife now.

T.C.

Laytesh looked up sharply at the end of the note to see the man hovering over him without sound as he placed the knife to his own index finger and sliced deeply and then drawing a thick line of blood over the message. While Laytesh sat wondering why, the man vanished right before his eyes. He felt the room empty of all human presence and danger but for his own startled breathing. Maybe Spirits and Djinn are all real after all. Laytesh snorted to himself. The fact he bled was an admission of being human and an apology for the theatrics. Though his humor needs improvement. Glancing at his watch he realized no more than five minutes had passed in the eternity of that meeting. The watch was clearly lying. Laytesh ashed and extinguished the cigarette in his ashtray and set to packing his bags quickly. Clearly, the polite ghost hadn’t kept him from his flight after all.

Laytesh opened his eyes from the memory to glance up at the unimpressive edifice of the Killian City library. where he knew he would find the Art of War and a way to resume the hunt that began by an idiotic journey into a cavern. Laytesh strode inside feeling eyes upon him, not the eyes of the Ghoul’s men but the eyes of those who sought to stop his hunt, kill him if necessary. Laytesh grinned deeply, he relished the challenge of those eyes and opened the door to his final hunt.

Inside looked even more ramshackle than the outside, even the poor places of Egypt would be ashamed of this place. The smell of mildew and mold was the first thing to assault his senses. The second was the sight of it. The entire library looked to be in a perpetual state of chaos, books were scattered everywhere and set haphazardly upon the shelves if on shelves at all. Bags of chips in several states of consumption littered the tables along with a collection of the energy drinks Americans were so fond of, even Jared. Laytesh was still struggling with the fact that his friend wasn’t missing or dead but in fact was now everywhere, maybe even watching Laytesh specifically.

He felt a presence nearby and assumed it must be the unfortunate soul who worked this version of hell. Laytesh found the person quickly, she was on the short side with short hair and piercing blue eyes, clearly still young maybe just having started college, she glanced up at him before returning to her half-hearted attempt at straightening shelves. “Do you need help finding anything?” She said, though it seemed a bit weary, as if she was enduring a heavy burden. These Americans knew nothing of hardship if they thought putting books in order on a shelf was a herculean task.

Laytesh watched her briefly before responding, “Yes, I am looking for a book called the Art of War by Sun Tzu. I only need to see it quickly, not check it out.” He had noticed her flinch when he said the title, a stiffening of either worry or curiosity, he frowned thoughtfully. Does the girl know something? His intuition shouted she did and generally he listened to it, he began to open his mouth to say something when she interrupted him by turning to face him with a sharpness that belied her docile book handling.

Her eyes were alive with curiosity unspoken as she said “I can take you to it immediately, someone placed it on hold here not to long ago, I guess you are Mr. Laytesh correct?” She turned quickly and started walking without even waiting for the nod he gave. The girl was a beauty, very fit and lithe, clearly unused to being pent up in a building. Probably an athlete, all in all still too young for him personally, he thought briefly of Laicorra and his promised aid. Following her he found himself near the entrance next to a reading stand, there it was, The Art of War.

Glass doors shattered as they were forced open brutally by three men wearing all black. Laytesh’s first thought was these were the eyes he felt but was dismissed even as he heard them speak in unison. “Grab her, if we have her, She will come, yes She will come and be ours, our toy, our meal, GIVE HER TO US, THEY ARE OURS WE HAD THEM AND HE STOLE THEM, GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE.”

These men repeated the word in endless shrieks as they closed on the young girl. Amazingly she didn’t look terrified, just ready to kill. Laytesh approved, she was clearly more experienced than he gave her credit for. All the noise and distraction didn’t stop the motion of his hand, faster than a striking cobra it found the concealed 1911 pistol and withdrew it between heartbeats. To Laytesh the world seemed as if trapped in quicksand, he brought the pistol in line with the first charging man’s knee and fired once, watching blood and bone erupt from it, the man fell with words unchanging as he tried to crawl. The other two died with bullets through their heads. One from Laytesh and one from the girl. She looked faintly ill with the death on her hands. Such things are normal, humans don’t like killing humans even if they don’t act like humans. The world snapped back into real time and Laytesh could hear the shrieking word being said as the man he wounded tried alternately to stand or crawl his way to the girl. Laytesh walked over to the man as he tried to stand once more and viciously kicked the leg out from under him before stepping on the devastated knee with bone crunching force.

The man didn’t react to him, just kept trying to crawl as horror dawned on the young woman’s face. She knew a terror as deep as his when he faced the thing of Darkness. His eyes narrowed in suspicion. What have you gone through child to warrant such fear?

The man stopped suddenly, voice changing in aspect completely, becoming more sibilant and deeper. “You interfere Witness, I can smell others of your kind in this. This girl is mine by Right of the Hunt. Witnesses cannot interfere. Before this thing dies he will bring her to me, release it.” The man never looked once at Laytesh instead staring solely at the woman in front of it with a stillness that couldn’t be done by a human.

The girl dropped her pistol, hands shaking hard as tears broke from her eyes and she shriveled back from the man with the voice of something evil. Sobs exploded from her as she collapsed into a ball on the floor. “Daddy said it died, I saw it die, this can’t be real.” She continued to mutter that it can’t be real.

Laytesh grew furious with this thing as it began a hissing laugh. “STAND UP, CHILD. This thing before you is crippled and dying. Come and see it’s end.” He had started at a roar mightier than a lion but ended as soft as a lullaby sung for a scared infant.  

The girl stared at Laytesh now, eyes colored red and face streaked with tears, instead of fear painting her features they now assumed a cast of readiness and the promise of Death. Her body moved rigidly as if forcing every motion by sheer bloody minded will and stood next to Laytesh, the thing turning its head to keep its eyes upon her. As she stood next to him its eyes flicked to Laytesh briefly with a smile of derision crossing its features. Then it spoke again, “I Smell Fear in you too Witness, you fear me.”

Laytesh laughed gently almost with genuine humor before responding, “Yes I fear, my fear shaped my action and now you are powerless here, I may still fear as this girl does but I have tamed my fear long ago, even that was challenged recently but I still live. Now girl, take my pistol and let this creature to be judged.” Matching action to words he proffered her his Springfield 1911. “In this place you need to be the final arbiter, death or absolution? Execute your will child and master your fears.”

She took the pistol with a silent nod of acceptance. Laytesh could see her register the weight of it in her hand as she sighted down on the things head. she took a deep breath and exhaled softly, her trembling hand stilling briefly just before pulling the trigger. The thing’s head disintegrated under the impact of the slug as it traveled through heedless of any resistance to bed itself in the wooden floor. For a moment she stood there, not in shock, but waiting to see if it had really died. Laytesh could feel from her that this wasn’t over but was at a pause with this things’ death.

The girl shivered violently before handing the pistol back to Laytesh and spoke while he made it vanish back into its concealed holster. “I know you have one of those notes from Daddy, just hand it to me and he will know personally in about two minutes. It will save time that way instead of me pretending to not notice as you slip the note in and walk away. Will you stay and eat while I wait for Daddy to get back to you? I don’t have much to snack on, not that I feel like eating right now, but I got Cheetos and an Amp in the fridge.”

Laytesh couldn’t help the rich laugh that escaped him, he liked this child, she had spunk. “I will sit and dine with you, but you should at least have water, it is good for you. All this note has to name your Daddy is T.C., may I ask his name?”

“Couldn’t hurt as I see it, being as you’ll be meeting him shortly, it’s Tobias Cairn. Maybe he will even talk to you this time." A phantom of a smile appeared on her face and her eyes hazed as if in memory. "Oh, and don’t go getting any ideas about me, I mean thanks and all for, you know saving my ass, but you have no idea how not my type you are."

A stunned Laytesh just stared a moment before shaking his head and chuckling richly. "Girl, I don’t even want to know your name, we are just a tiny exchange in, what i am coming to believe, events that will swallow this world. If you must call me something, call me Survivor."

"What, like the show? Seriously?" The young woman said with a frightening level of seriousness. “Don’t care by the way, my name is Elisa.”

"Is it an American trait or yours to simply ruin moments of importance with trivialities?" Laytesh sighed heavily. His hand flashed to his pistol once more as he heard crunching glass, he swiveled to face the shattered doors to see a man striding in but froze mid motion as familiarity tickled his mind. He knew this man. The man had no eyes for the bodies or even Laytesh himself, just for the girl.

"It an exceedingly American trait but it seems distilled and strengthened in my daughters. We meet face to face at last, Survivor. I am Tobias Cairn." Tobias reached his daughter and hugged her tenderly while offering his hand to Laytesh. "Welcome to America, I Hear you have had one hell of a time."

Laytesh took Tobias' hand firmly in his own. "I would say you have no idea but I don’t underestimate ghosts and djinn." Tobias had black hair like his daughter and the same piercing quality if good bit darker in shade. He was a tall man, easily topping six feet by a healthy margin, and while clearly muscular he was lean, not bulky. This man was a blade, a weapon, with no other calling but the kill. Laytesh felt a chill in his bones, even Anubis would run from this man.

Tobias' eyes grew sharp as he looked at Laytesh. "Smart bet, I have seen what’s in the mine Laytesh. You are not the only one on a hunt, even if mine is different than yours. Not too long ago something abducted my daughters and tried to kill them, I took offense and now it’s dead." His daughter stiffened in his embrace and he turned his head to look into her eyes.

"It’s not dead Daddy, somehow it’s not dead," Her voice shook at first but grew steadier as she continued. "It came here, thinking TV Guy wouldn’t do anything, it said his kind couldn’t interfere. Then he handed me his gun, and I Shot It In It’s Fucking Face." Fury had taken over in the last few words and she shook, this time with rage.

Tobias' eyes softened slightly as he looked back at Laytesh. "I saw it all, I really hate mysteries, but this is getting out of control. This creature can now use us like sock puppets, it couldn’t do that before only hypnotize. Survivor, I may need your help with my hunt someday, we will get you fitted out and on your own hunt, but first, I am game for those Cheetos and Amp too. Let’s go."

Tobias turned and walked to the back area a protective arm around his daughter's shoulders clearly expecting Laytesh to follow. The creature let out a long hiss at his feet suddenly, it was lilting and almost a laugh, impossibly it spoke, "I see now, you will be one but are not one yet, the bitch sent you on a quest to find our father." The ruined face turned up to look at Laytesh and smiled. Laytesh was not amused, he raised his leg and brought it down with all the wrath of Egypt in his blood. A shattered bloody pulp was all that remained as Laytesh walked away, idly wondering if they had a boot wash room.