Blue Flame II: Extinguish pt:1

 Scene I: The Arrangement

“Can we get a little heat in here?” Jack’s voice echoes through the corridor. “And a little courtesy for a guest?” He spins around and removes his jacket. “Service!” he yells, dangling the jacket by an index finger. Two silver plated revolvers hang at his belt.

Hurried footsteps click on stone floors.

“Yes sir. I’m terribly sorry sir. Coming sir,” a distant voice replies. A tall silhouette approaches from the candle lit corridor.

“About time,” replies Jack. “Is this any way to treat a guest?”

“No sir. I’m terribly sorry, sir. Let me take that from you, sir.” The butler relieves Jack of his jacket. “We weren’t expecting you until tomorrow.”

“I drive fast.”

“Right sir,” the butler says. Tiny blemishes scatter the surface of his face.

“Your hat, sir?” The butler reaches out with long fingers.
Jack tips his hat indigently. “On second thought, I’ll keep it on. It’s a little drafty in this crypt. I wouldn’t want to catch a chill.”

“Right, sir, very well.” The butler turns to hang Jack’s jacket. “Your weapons, sir?”

“Yes? What about them?”

“May I relieve you of them?”

“On the contrary, you may not. I feel more comfortable with them. You never know what kind of zombie freak might pop out of the woodwork around here.”

“Very well, sir. This way then. The Master is in his study.”

Jack follows behind the old man. Their footsteps echo down the long hallway. A chandelier of bones and knives hangs from the ceiling dripping with wax. The sharp ends of the knives dangle downward as if ready to fall on those who pass under. The butler leads Jack up three flights of twisting staircase. The walls tremble with tortured souls, frozen in pale pigments of paint. A wall of bones lined and woven together. Faces without eyes screaming. Bodies sculpted in twisting poses, bent, and pleading. Their skin peeled back carved out of stone. Paintings of dismembered figures, landscapes of desolate scenes, an ambiguous figure cloaked in loose shrouds carries a skeletal man weeping. A child with white eyes feasts on the disembowelment of a man. His screams are never heard. His screams never end.

“You guys sure have an interesting taste in interior design,” remarks Jack. “Spared no expense apparently.”

“Right sir, the Master has a certain taste for. . . shall we say, the macabre.”

At the top of the staircase the butler knocks on a door.

“Yes?” An eerie voice replies.

“Your guest has arrived, My Lord.”

Jack taps his foot on the dark wood floor while studding a display shelf of human skulls. Another hallway leads into darkness in both directions at the top of the stairs.

“Very well,” the voice gurgles. “Let him in.” Jack hardly recognizes the voice.

The butler pushes open the door. Jack’s eyes adjust to a ghastly scene, poorly lit by flickering candles. A cloaked figure hovers over a body atop an altar. His formerly human face stares down at his sacrifice. With talons covered in blood, he slices a line across the abdomen. The sacrifice murmurs in agony. Its mouth sewn shut. The cloaked figure licks his fingers and raises his piercing eyes to his guest.

“I can see I’ve caught you at a bad time, Shuffle,” Jack says.

Shuffle stands up without diverting his eyes away from Jack. Blood dribbles from the corner of his thin, purple lips. “Just having a little snack,” he says wiping the blood with an index finger. “I can finish later. She won’t spoil.” He smiles a fang-filled smirk and licks his fingers one more time. “Very delicious. Care for a lick?”

“I think I’ll pass,” replies Jack. "I'm on a diet."

"For each their own. We have some important matters to discuss.”

“So it seems from your urgent letter.”

“Yes, I see you’ve made good time.” Shuffle steps down from the altar to welcome Jack. “Follow me.” Shuffle leads Jack from the room. The door slams shut, muffling the whimpers within.

“I like what you’ve done with the place. It’s not particularly my taste in decor, but it’s definitely interesting. . . if you’re going for that creepy, don’t-like-too-many-visitors kind of vibe.”

Shuffle leads Jack into the next room with a small table and two chairs. A single candle flickers.

“Have you heard about this thing called ‘electricity’?” Jack cracks. “It’s a marvel of the twentieth century.”

Shuffle ignores the comment, gliding like a shadow across the open room. A massive bookshelf of leather bound books lines the far wall. Cobwebs dangle like ceiling quilts. A centipede scurries across the table.

“Please, have a seat.” Shuffle instructs.

Jack casually pulls out one of the chairs. A beetle lays belly up and dead. Jack flicks it with an index finger and dusts off the seat with his hand.

“Would you care for a drink?” Shuffle asks.

“Got any blood of a virgin?” Jack laughs. “I mean, a whiskey would be fine.”

“Chauncey!” Shuffle’s yells. The butler quickly appears in the doorway.

“Yes, My Lord?”

“A glass of whiskey for our guest.” Shuffle gestures towards Jack, his pale blue palm exposed to the ceiling.

“Yes my lord,” Chauncey bows and darts out of the room.

“Very well, Jack. I am glad you could make it.”

“It wasn’t easy going, I gotta say. There better be a good reason to have me traveling to this awful place. What happened to Frank and Ernest? Didn’t those two suffice?”

“That is precisely what I wanted to speak with you about.” Shuffle rattles his claws on the arm of his chair.

Chauncey arrives in the doorway with a small glass of amber liquid resting in the center of a silver platter. “Your whiskey, sir,” he says. He walks briskly over to Jack, and bows slightly. Jack picks up the glass, eyeing its contents. The glass feels chilled, but contains no ice. He raises the glass to his nose and breathes in the aroma before taking a sip. The liquid coats his tongue, warming his throat. He tips the glass towards his host. “Good stuff. Top shelf, eh? Delicious.”

“Only the best for my guests,” Shuffle remarks.

“I must admit, old friend, you looked prettier back when you resembled something human,” Jack sets down the thick-bottomed, pear-shaped glass. “I’d recommend a face reduction, perhaps mud therapy or a series of eucalyptus oil massages. They can do wonders for your skin. I know a great place back in my hometown, Gucken. Some pretty ladies there too. They can treat you right. They can take years off that ugly mug. . . provided you don’t dine on them, just with them.”

Shuffle’s eyes narrow. “I have no regrets.” He scratches his chin. “I see you’re not quite human yourself anymore.”

“You suppose right, ol’ friend,” Jack says waving the whiskey glass. “Fortune has been good to me. Odd as it may be, strange things happen out in the desert,” Jack scoffs. “Can’t really figure it out myself. I have nightmares of dogs. . . wolves or something. Teeth. All I see are gnawing teeth.” He takes another sip. “Hard to sleep most days,” Jack swallows. “Never understood how I survived. I mean, I’m pretty sure Jones killed me.”

“Being resurrected and soulless has its advantages.”

Jack tries to smile.

“And this is why I need your assistance.”

“My assistance?”

“Yes.”

“What if my assistance isn’t for sale?”

“Everything is for sale.”

“If I decline, it’s not like you could off and kill me.” Jack laughs.

“Just because you’re not necessarily alive, doesn’t mean I couldn’t inflict unimaginable horrors on you.”

Jack swallows a long hard pull, looking over the rim of the glass.

“Those cronies, Frank and Ernest, failed miserably,” Shuffle hisses.

Jack sets down the empty whiskey glass, a film of sweat builds on his neck. “They did?”

“Yes, horribly. And they are no longer amongst the humans.”

“I see,” coughs Jack. “So you invited me here to pay for the consequences of their failure? They were two of my best.”

“Sure they were,” says Shuffle with a burning stare. “Two of your best cowards.”

“Can’t blame them, after seeing this world and well. . . no offense old bud, but you don’t come across as the friendliest face in the business.”

Shuffle smirks. “Nonetheless, I made them into my servants. They help inflict the fear that flows through this town.”

“I couldn’t imagine. I probably shouldn’t ask.” Jack leans back in the creaking chair. “But, what do you want? Specifically. Now that you dragged me out here at this special request?”

Shuffle opens his right palm. “Do you see this scar?”

“Yes. . .” Jack notes a scar of symbols on Shuffle’s palm. “Looks like a pretty neat tattoo.” The strange markings swell out of Shuffle’s callus flesh.

Shuffle quickly closes his fist. “That was over sixty years ago. When I first came to this pathetic village. When I first discovered it.”

“Discovered what?”

“The seal!” Shuffle squealed. Candlelight flickers, illuminating the leathery scars of his face. “The Blue Flame.”

“Ah,” Jack says, remembering, “you’re still going on and on about that thing? You’ve been jabbering about that blue whatchamadeal ever since I can recall. Always searching for the blasted thing; not even sure it exists. I never understood. Guess that’s why I stayed in the valley and you found yourself out here, at the edge of the abyss.”

Shuffle weaves his sharp fingers together and leans back in his chair. “Yes, perhaps I have. Perhaps I have reason, and perhaps, I have found it.”

Jack’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh?”

“You see, dear friend, over sixty years ago I discovered the blue flame hidden beneath this city. Hidden away in secret, and unknown even to those who dwelt here in Kausia. I found the location of the flame, and I went to retrieve it. I did so eagerly and stupidly.”

Jack raises his empty whisky glass. “I feel a long story coming on. Mind if I get a refill?”

“Chauncey!”

“Yes, My Lord?” The butler appears at the doorway like a ghost.

“Another beverage for our dear guest.”

“Of course, My Lord.” The butler vanishes for a few moments then returns with another chilled glass of whiskey.

Jack takes a satisfying sip, slides his elbow onto the table, takes his hat off, and leans back. “Thank you, Chauncey,” he says. “You’ll have to tell me where you get this whiskey from. I’d like to take home a few dozen bottles.”

“Certainly, sir.” The butler bows before turning and exiting the room.

“And now, back to your story,” Jack gestures for Shuffle to continue his narrative.

“Yes,” Shuffle hisses, noticing Jack getting a little too comfortable. “As I was saying. I found the Blue Flame, hidden here for eons of time, put here and forgotten since the Grey War when the pages of the great books were torn and divided, scattered and hidden by those who survived the battle. All power was neutralized and the seals were put into place. This caused both sides, the flood and the void, to be locked off from this world. At the beginning, I did not realize what the blue flame truly was. I desired it, thinking it was only a powerful medallion.”

Jack interrupts, pointing a finger at Shuffle. “I remember that.”

Shuffle squints his eyes, peering at Jack. “Yes, ignorant I was back then. Little did I know, but now, I realize what the flame truly is.”

“What’s that?” Jack inquires.

“It’s one of the nine.”

“One of the who?”

“One of the nine seals. Put in place by the ancient ones. Sealing the void and banishing it into darkness.”

“Sounds pretty neat.”

“Neat enough to do this,” Shuffle lifts his open palm again.

“I see,” Jack says trying to figure out what Shuffle is leading to.

“Yes, you are beginning to get the picture. I once tried to remove the seal from its place. I was unable to remove it and the flame scarred me. If I had held on any longer it might have destroyed me.”

“Is that how you got so good-looking?” Jack laughed.

Shuffle’s eyes flare red. “I was able to crack the seal in my efforts, just slightly. Enough that it has caused a plague on this village.”

“Well,” Jack says, “why don’t you go back and finish what you started?”

“Because I can’t,” replies Shuffle. “You see, the seal is a protective amulet that harms all who serve or come from the Void. The stronger my powers and efforts become, the stronger the seal’s resistance grows. Do you understand? The flame’s sole purpose is to retain and repel things like me. From both sides.”

Jack lets the last remaining drops of whiskey drip on his tongue. “Not sure if I’m getting the big picture here buddy. All these years, all this time, you’ve been hanging out here, trying to retrieve this damn almighty seal, and what good would it do you? Seems like it’d be much more likely to kill you—if you were ever able to get a hold of the damn thing.”

“Precisely, Jack,” hisses Shuffle. “You’re quicker than I give you credit for. You see, it is not the seal that I am after. No. Time and time again, I have sent men, like Frank and Ernest down to the flame. Not to retrieve it for me. No. What I desire is for it to be removed.”

“Removed?”

“Yes! The flame is a seal over the doorway to the realm of my masters. It locks them from this world. I merely seek to free them.”

“I see,” Jack says. “I think I’m finally getting the picture.”

“And this is where you, dear Jack, come into play. You have no soul. You have no loyalty to any side: good or bad, dark or light. Your neutrality and immortality are the key. You may be the only one who can remove the seal from where it sits.”

Jack swallows, “Shit. No pressure, right? I’m not sure about all this. I mean, what’s in it for me? You get your damn portal to the otherworld open, and I get what? A chance to get a neat scar like yours? Or even better yet, eaten by the ugly things that might show up once I remove it?”

“Not if you have the seal,” Shuffle grins. “You will have the Blue Flame and it will protect you from anything that comes from the Void. It will be yours to keep--to do with as you please. All I ask is you remove it from where it lays.”

Jack thinks for a while leaning back in the chair and rubbing his face. “Do I have a choice?”

“No.”

“Then, I guess we have deal.”