Talebound - A Rose For Valentine

They were as small as peas, magenta in appearance and tasted like cotton candy. Yet this was not what made them so appealing. They made you feel things. A great euphoria. Strong. Relaxed. In control. They were pills, infused with magic. Mana recovery. Arcana as they're known on the streets. And they go down perfectly with a side of whiskey on the rocks. I'd know, I couldn't get enough of it. Perhaps to my own detriment.

I was sitting in 'The Mickey Finn', a bar I frequented on the west side of town. It was only a few blocks away from my office and even closer to my apartment. The perfect drinking establishment for a drunk addict like me. Another glass of whiskey was thrown down beside my trilby, for a split second I saw a tattoo of an ostrich being shot by a man that looked like a cartoon version of Paulie; the bar's owner and attendant.

'Last one Jack. I am not cleaning up anymore of your mess.' Paulie's moustache squirmed up and down like a caterpillar whenever he spoke.

It was a humorous sight and made everything he said come across as comical rather than serious. I laughed in his face and emptied the glass's contents down my throat. It burnt a little as it went down and the taste wasn't too dissimilar to the way gasoline smelled. My mouth dried up, my tongue became almost rubbery and the odour that escaped my lips was foul, probably due to the drinking, smoking and poor dental hygiene. Paulie snorted and shook his head, before cleaning down the counter.

Thankfully the bar was empty aside from the two of us. I'd hate to see some of my old friends looking at me with sadness in their eyes, while talking to me as if they saw nothing wrong. I was a mess. And I'll be the first one to admit it. These last few months hadn't been kind to me. Not only had my use of Arcana increased tenfold, but I couldn't help push away friends and reputable clientele with my less than adequate demeanour. I'd become a loner, who was one bad day away from being homeless.

'You heard from her?' Paulie asked without looking up from the counter. I assumed he was talking about my missus. Or ex missus, seeing as she had made it pretty clear the last time, I saw her, that we'd never speak again.

'Nah. But she saw me on that last case I worked with Humphrey. She looked good. Better then she had when she was with me.' I replied. I heard the front door open, and someone with a heavy step walked in.

'Speak of the devil.' Paulie said as he poured a glass of whiskey for his new guest.

'Work hours Paulie, thanks but I'll have to pass for the time being.' Humphrey spoke in a soft manner. He took the phrase, you are what you eat a little too seriously, he was round like a doughnut and had cheeks coated in acne as if they were sprinkles. Every sentence he spoke ended with deep heavy breaths and his cheeks became red like apples.

He came over to me and sat down right beside. The stool, creaked and croaked under his weight and made shrill sounds; that reminded me of chalk on a blackboard, as he scraped the rubber caps on the bottom of the stool across the floor. With him so close by I could smell his diabetic odour, sweet like pancakes. He took one look at the pills lying on the counter in front of me. The magenta beauties. And sighed. 'You know what Paulie. I'm sure one glass won't hurt.' He chuckled and Paulie pushed the glass over to him and leant back against a cabinet, brandishing a smile, knowing full well the conversation we were about to have had the potential to be entertaining. Humphrey drowned the glass, and swallowed the ice cubes down in a single gulp. I watched his neck, a mass of fatty skin, swallow down the liquor like a snake.

'Are you ever gonna give that shit up Valentine?' I allow very few men to call me by my surname, it was something I tried to keep for the ladies. They always got a kick out of it. But Humphrey was a good man, he'd gotten me through more scraps than I could count and had even invited me to his wedding. And much like my missus, when I'd started to rely heavily on Arcana to utilise my spells and enchantments, he would share his disapproval. 'This isn't like the old days Valentine. You don't need to rely Arcada, Argana or whatever the hell it's called.'

'Arcana' Paulie interjected.

'Yeah. Thanks, Paulie. You don't need to use this Arcana thing anymore.'

I'd heard it all before. They told me all the time. Never shut up about it. Acted like it was something you could walk away from. Arcana was like any other drug on the streets, magical or otherwise. It was addictive. As addictive as coffee or sugar or even alcohol. It made me feel things. Things I never had the opportunity to feel otherwise.

Humans were naive, they thought all wizards were born equal, equal power, equal abilities. But that couldn't have been further from the truth. There are three things that make up wizardry.

Mana: Meaning how much energy you can store, the more mana the stronger spells you could cast and the more items you could enchant.

Focus: The ability to control spells and enchants perfectly, especially when using wands or potions.

Power: The more power you have the more effective the casted spell or enchant will be. The reason why I bring this up. Is that without the use of Arcana. I have very little of all three. In fact, even after taking the pills, I'm still less effective than the average spell caster. I was an embarrassment to other wizards, to 'The Order' and especially to myself. All the enchanted rings, potions and wands couldn't make me a decent wizard. I was a disgrace of a man, and even more so of a wizard.

I heard Paulie snigger in the background. As much as I liked Paulie, he had trouble keeping his mouth shut. It would do him some good to wash that habit out with a bar of soap. But what do I know? I'm just a drunken addict, with no friends, no family and a bone to pick with just about everyone I met. I turned and faced Humphrey for the first time since he'd walked in. I stared him dead in the eyes and didn't waver. Didn't blink. Didn't move a muscle. 'I assume you had some sort of reason for visiting me here Droll. Or did you just come to mock my addiction?' I spoke calm and firm.

Humphrey wiggled his right brow up, like a bad parody of 'The Rock' from wrestling. I would have chuckled at the sight. But something told me it would've hurt his feelings, and while usually that wouldn't affect me, I could tell he'd spent a little time trying to perfect the manoeuvre and I respected his dedication. 'You're a real piece of work Jack.' He called me Jack. I must have really pissed him off. How typical of me. 'I was gonna say I came to check up on my friend. But I've since changed my mind'. As he spoke a little bit of fatty skin around his chin wiggled, like a chicken's wattles. 'I'm working a case. A serial. Homicide. You know the type. The one that makes it hard to sleep at night.' Paulie pushed off the cabinet and poured Humphrey another round. 'I've never seen anything like it Jack. It's some real messed up shit.' Humphrey took a moment, I saw on his face, the restlessness that came with the job. Crow's feet were rarely seen on a man his age. I guess he'd seen things beyond his years. I watched him skull the glass, and deliver a slight nod to Paulie indicating he needed one more. Paulie obliged and looked like he was hurting for the detective as he backed away. 'Little girl, about six was the first victim.' I almost spotted a tear leave his socket before being wiped away by his grubby fingers. 'Oh shit. I was trying to forget the sight. It's all coming back now.' It looked like he was about ready to vomit, I was waiting for him to start dry heaving any moment. Humphrey downed his third shot. For a man who came in not wanting a drink, he's sure put a few back since. I couldn't go on listening. I didn't want to hear another word. If it was hurting Humphrey this much. Imagine what it'd do to me.

'Enough Hump. Forget about it. Let's just share a drink.'

If he'd been listening to my words, he made no indication. He wasn't hearing any of it. 'Little girl... six.' He continued. 'She... her. Jack. Her head. That's all we found.' My guts started to tingle. My brain rampant with thoughts and imagination created images I couldn't bare. I felt sick to my stomach. Now I was beginning to wonder how long it'd take till I was the one heaving up my lunch. 'We found her. By the old race track on sixth. You know the place. Just a little girl. All alone.'

'I'm begging you Hump. Cool it.'

He wouldn't stop. No matter how much I asked. 'I just got off the line with dispatch while I was passing this place by.' He started biting his fingers, his eyes were searching somewhere, just not anywhere in the bar. He was lost in a mind of thoughts and dissolution. 'There's another victim Jack. Another little girl. There saying she's only nine or ten.' No matter how much he tried, his grubby little fingers weren't gonna stop the onslaught of tears that began to streak down his cheeks. 'I don't know If I can handle seeing another one. Another poor girl. Jack. I'm begging you. Come with me. Help me put this case to bed. Before another girl gets killed.' He was asking too much from me. I'd barely been able to hold back tears myself. The way he had described it. The short breaths he took in between the last few words was close to pulling me into a dark place I'd only just gotten myself through.

'Why me Hump? You know what happened to my family.' The one I tried to forget. 'Why me? Why now?'

The tears slowly subsided and Humphrey sniffed and wiped away snot with the back of his hand. 'You're the only wizard this city has.' He wasn't wrong. In our city 'New Liberty' I was the only wizard living there. Which wasn't as rare as it sounds. Most wizards are travellers. Rarely settling, and they almost never come here. I guess you could say that was thanks to me. I was the cities best defence against the paranormal. But I could also be a right bastard when I was in a mood. Wizard's all across the world knew that I was not one to get along well with. They stayed away. For the most part.

'No Hump. I can't.'

Humphrey got out a light grey handkerchief with an insignia on it. He blew his nose and wiped his face of the tears. I felt an arm reach my shoulder, once he'd cleaned himself up and he pulled me in close and spoke quietly. 'I know what happened to your family Jack. It wasn't right. Your wife and kids didn't deserve it. You didn't deserve it. And these people. The parents of these little girls. Didn't deserve it. But it happened Jack. The difference is, your family isn't coming back. But we can still save further families from feeling the way you do now'. He spoke frankly and purposeful. I could tell that he was hiding something. A child's head wasn't anything the police couldn't handle. They had detectives for a reason. So, the only reason he'd come to a drunk, addict, private eye like me. Was because it was paranormal in nature. I was the wizard PI after all. I pulled away from him and stood up.

'I don't think I wanna hear where the supernatural comes in.' I told him. Before leaving him sitting on the stool. While I took a break in the bathroom.

I'd looked worse. But I could have appeared better, if I'd taken the time to shower, shave and comb my hair. But I hadn't been bothered. It would have been quite befitting had the mirror cracked as I'd walked in. I looked like a meth addict. My hair was all sharp and greasy, a thin line had been engraved into it where my hat had usually sat. My teeth looked crooked and misshapen as they usually did. While my chin, which was often my saving grace, was coated in a five o'clock shadow and had a nasty looking fresh scar beside it.

I needed some time to think about what Humphrey had told me. And about what he wanted me to do. Could I really come back into the fold? Get back to doing some actual investigating. And not just continue to spend my life savings on rent and cheap liquor. I suppose I needed to work at some point. Working as a confidante for the police didn't pay all that well, but it more often than not got my name out there. And that's where the real money came from. The rich fuckers who'd lost their purses on public transport and wanted me to get it back for them. The wives of distant husbands who wanted me to find out if an affair was happening behind their back. One time I'd even been paid to just take a few photos of an old man waiting in a train station. All had paid quite well and were given to me thanks to my work with the police. It's funny how life works sometimes. You solve a murder surrounded in supernatural activity. Only to be asked to pull someone's cat out of a tree.

So, the question wasn't should I help Humphrey out. As much as I hated to admit it. I had a soft spot for the guy. And I was more than obliged to help out. The question I needed to answer was can I trust myself to pull it together. To focus up and get the job done. A lot would be riding on it. My PI work, my friendship with Humphrey and justice for the victims. That I did not know. I always knew what to do in situations like these. I dove into my coat pocket and pulled out a twenty-cent coin. 'Heads, you take the job. Tails, you keep living your miserable life the way it is.' I nodded to the person in the mirror and watched as they nodded back. I prepared myself to flip the coin. Took a deep breath. Closed my eyes and let my finger send the coin spiralling into the air. A moment later I heard a metallic clang as it landed on the ground. I looked down and stared at the coin.

Who knew coins could land on their side?