Paradise by the Dashboard Lights

There was a slight creak as the Hollander pushed his way uncertainly through the front door. Pausing, he listened for any acknowledgement of the sound from within the home. Nothing. There were no dogs, at least there was that, they would have heard the muffled whine of the door as clearly as a gunshot, and that would have been the end of this intrepid voyage.

"Fucking door," he cursed under his breath, easing himself through what space there was in the doorway, unwilling to chance another sound by pushing it farther open. Nervously glancing around the room, he searched for any sign of movement in the still living room. The room was large, the oaken floor solid and cool under his feet. Looked to be around 20 feet by 30 feet or so, a door on each side of the elongated space. The Hollander had come in from the north, to the south was a large wooden door, the bust of some famous greek sitting alongside the doorframe on a dark cherry pedastal, the white of the bust seeming to hover over the dark wood in the night-blackened room.

There was an unlit fireplace to the left, the kind with a gas lighting system under the wood, a thin sheet of black chain metal hanging in front of the opening. Facing it, there were two large, comfortable looking chairs, behind them, in the middle of the room, were two couches - made of the same material as the chairs, facing each other, a small, oval, dark coffee table in between them. The walls were decorated with a few large paintings of ancient ancestry, and several enlarged pictures of the properties they owned.

The trace was still there too, lingering on the ground and in the air like a dull, yellow streamer.

"I found you, didn't I you bastard." The feeling of success would have to be repressed for now, but still he knew how close he was, how near the completion of this seemingly endless mission. "I found you, and I have something for you."

The Hollander moved quietly through the living room toward the far door, which hung barely open. Following the trace was like following a faint yellow fog which never seemed to lift. Except it did. It was the kind of illusion a man could follow forever, convinced he was on the right trail when really his eyes were just playing tricks on him. There was more to following the trace than looking for it - it had to be felt. The Hollander could feel the trace, almost always could, and it had saved him more times than he could recall. As he followed along it's path, the trace swirled and coiled around him, the air becoming warmer around him where it surrounded him. Bending through the doorway at the end of the room, the trace glowed slightly on the other side, casting the faint illusion of illumination on the other side. Most people would have thought the illumination to be real, but it was just a glance into possibility - the reality of what might be, but isn't.

The Hollander knows better because he knows the trace. To him it is as natural a phenomena as the wind blowing mildly against your face in the autumn, the leaves blowing briskly by you as the air cools and prepares for winter. Most people could see the trace if they looked, most just call it a person's aura and the trail it leaves behind, and most would lose the trail after a few seconds, searching in vain for the equivalent of the end of the rainbow. The Hollander knows where to look for the trace, how to follow it, and what to expect at the end of the rainbow - he is a Tracker, a Spirit Follower. He can see and feel what most ignore, and what a few (including Edward Jona Finch the Third, in whose house we currently find ourselves) wish had never existed.

Following the trace through the door, the Hollander stopped laying his hand gently on his sword, Job. The sword seemed to thrum with the anticipation of what was soon to come. It wasn't an evil sword mind you, it just loved the taste of blood, and Edward Jona Finch the Third would not be an exception, not in the least.

"I know," he cooed gently to the sword, "let's go get him."

To be continued...
- posted by Unknown @ 22:36