OK, so I didn’t get to it yesterday, but I don’t see anyone complaining – so here’s the first bit. This is the first 5 pages or so, basically the section I submitted when agents requested the first five pages. It cuts right at a scene break, so that works. This seemed to do OK for me – I got a pretty good request rate for more pages rate. Unfortunately no one liked the rest of the pages enough to make me an offer. So, here we go:
Note: TCotSS = The Case of the Shredded Souls.
Chapter 1: That “New Skin” Smell
Mark Brand picked at his week-old beard as he stood at the end of the clean cement walkway, his brown half trench soaking inexorably in the drizzle. He checked the time on his phone and silently cursed Daylight Savings Time; it was only 5:30PM, and entirely too dark. It was also entirely too wet. The moisture resolved to compress his short, muddy brown-black hair into something best described as “soggy roadkill”.
His hands weren’t looking particularly impressive either. They were, at the moment, slightly larger than human hands and covered in coarse, wet, black fur. He wasn’t excited about the soggy furball fists, and would normally have shifted them back to human at the first hint of moisture. Instead, they twitched distractedly with nervous energy, spraying mist back into the drizzle as he extended and retracted inch-long feline claws from the ends of the fingers, over and over again.
He stared pensively down the walkway at the double doors, but his eyes soon wandered upwards. The clinically polished steel doors were flanked by two impressive stone gargoyles, each mounted on a two foot square block of granite and standing over nine feet tall. Each gargoyle reached upward and across the stone above the doorway with one hand and stopped just short of touching the other. They reached downward with the other hands – the gargoyle on the right’s left hung in the air adjacent to the security panel. Its seven inch long fingers reached around the panel, index finger and thumb forming an intimidating circle. There was no way to put a hand on the panel without putting the entire hand through the gargoyle’s.
Mark sighed and chuckled a little to himself, then dropped his eyes to the walkway. He sniffed the air, smiled and moved forward, keeping his eyes down. He carried himself with a level of grace that surprised most observers – to others it was a clue to his true nature.
He stopped at the doorway, brow furrowed. He looked up at the gargoyles, then down at his leather shoes, now darkened with moisture. The security panel chirped happily at his approach, buttons momentarily blazing with color. He reached his hand, now completely human in appearance, toward the panel. As he reached the gargoyle hand he stopped short, eying it warily. After a quick glance around and an exhale for confidence, he slipped his hand through and touched the panel.
“I wish they’d just get rid of the stupid panel. No need for pretense these days, and anyone with an ounce of sensitivity can feel the gargoyles at twenty feet,” he thought.
As the panel chirped again and flashed its lights randomly, he turned his head slowly upward and suppressed a shiver. The two stone humanoids leaned towards each other over the eight foot double doors, beaks nearly touching, huge wings extended and stretched up along the cement brick walls. They faced each other, but the outward eyes angled down at the entryway, gazing balefully and bug-eyed at whomever stood below. They were big, but not so big that one could avoid looking them in the eyes while passing under. The occasional wink could be incredibly unsettling if you weren’t expecting it.
Seconds passed and the doors didn’t open. He started to sweat and tried to avoid looking upwards. A sound like metal dragged across cement rung out, and the menacing claws closed on his wrist. Confusion registered in his throat before his brain, and he stifled a squawk as he glanced hurriedly upwards.
“Did they change night access? Maybe I should have waited until tomorrow morning,” he thought. “I really should have checked my email.”
Then, from overhead and to the right, he heard a sound like a gravel chunks grinding against coals. The sound coalesced into a thick British accent.
“Just messing with you Mark.” The pressure on his wrist eased slightly, but didn’t release. “Go on in.”
“Nearly filled his pants he did. Lovely, Ralph, lovely,” said the other gargoyle.
“Unclench Mark, go on in,” said the first gargoyle.
“Dammit Ralph!” Mark scowled, trying not to look at his hand. “I really should know better. You guys have been bullshitting with Spooky too much – matters of life and death are not funny to the fleshy!”
“Actually it was Bert who put us up to this. Something about burning off tension, wading into filth, that kind of thing,” said Ralph.
“Well, filth is what they pay us for. But Bert – playing practical jokes? Not good,” he thought and his shoulders slumped.
“Glad to have you back. Good times, eh?” said the cockney gargoyle.
“Yeah, good times, Larry,” said Mark through a sigh. Ralph finally opened his claw, and Mark did his best to casually withdraw his hand. As he stepped through the door, he unconsciously caught Larry’s eye as he passed under. The wink he knew was coming still gave him the chills.
“Good times…” he said as the door closed behind him. He started forward, towards the second set of double doors – this one automatic, but stopped short of triggering the sensor.
“What am I doing?” he mumbled aloud, fixing his gaze on the darkened entryway beyond. The office cleared out at five, but the hallway to his office was still lit. Not that he needed the light, but it allowed him to confront his reflection in the magic resistant glass.
“Why did I even come back?” he said to disinterested double doors, eyes locked on his reflection.
“Because I said I would,” he thought.
“Well, why did I say I that?” he said.
“It’s not like this is something I earned. What makes us any better than any old fast food employee or baby vamp off the street?” he thought.
“I can still turn around,” he said and stared at his shifting reflection, daring it to turn away.
Five minutes later, dare unmet, he squelched a sigh and stepped forward to trigger the door.
