It was yesterday it happened. I received strange tidings from the Kapiti coast. A man had been killed and someone had taken a dog into custody for the murder. A woman who lived across the valley from the path the slaying occurred on, had said she had seen the dog stalking the man for about two kilometers, before it sprinted savagely toward him, she said she could hear the hellish barking far off as an echo, and then the malicious and ferocious rage of the attack, she said she had looked away.
That man was my mentor, Erasmus.
I remember opening the email, it said simply, "bad news", in the subject area. That electronic communication, was probably the most saddening document I had ever opened via the mobile web. I was heartbroken for a time and in deep shock, but he had always said to me that he would die, and to prepare for it as an inevitability, that if you fear it, it controls you. So after a good cup of tea and a cry I was back to reality.
There was something odd about this reality relayed by others though, and I had a strange feeling about this, after all, there were strange goings on on the Kapiti Coast. I had lived there, and Erasmus was an alchemist as well, this fact threw some people off, which I always thought rather strange, after all, it is an old and revered profession, engaged in by some of the greatest minds that grace our collective histories.
Erasmus was an alchemist in the sense that he was on a scientific journey to find the ultimate, the source of all life, and definitely not in it for the monetary gain.
The thing was, I had learned in the five years I lived there that he had had certain incidents occur in and around his vicinity, that were apparently, according to Erasmus, put straight into the police special-branch folder.
Strange animals appearing, giant vicious sounding beasts, marauding wildly through the night.
I asked him, 'What are those wonderous creatures?', he told me they were his former friends, as he had been a shape-changer also.
Of course this came as a shock and I had to sit down.
I recall seeing several of them and they were certainly supernaturally proportioned beings.
There was one that looked very similar to a giant husky, walking around on its hind legs, smashing corrugated iron fences aside. All this chaos as it tried to break through the bulb of magic Erasmus generated around us, thanks to a portable psychically driven machine, that was placed on the head and then caused the wearer to have the ability to throw out a ball of energy that could not be penetrated.
Erasmus had said at the time he used it, that he was not satisfied with the reliability of it, as it was as unpredictable as a temperamental laptop and drained power directly from the wearer, the wearer needing to drink a liter of water and eat two sandwiches for each hour it was worn.
My best and most clear memory of an attack was certainly the one when I saw the giant husky close up. We had heard its preternatural growls before we saw it, as we were in the glass dome that Erasmus kept on the top of his subterranean house.
It was seven feet tall, and resembled the stature of a silver-back gorilla, all rippling muscle and cautiously intelligent menace when it loped into view, the moment it spied Erasmus it transformed. Rage streaked forth from its eyes as it came bounding over the hills to the west of Erasmus's farmhouse, suddenly it was smashing aside the corrugated iron fence that surrounded the chicken coop, and my, the poor chickens, devoured in seconds, they stood no chance.
The ball of energy had been malfunctioning slightly if I remember rightly, because before the giant dog had reduced the chicken coop to ruins, the chickens had been quite safe, and quiet actually, which I admired them for, they had known that clucking was not something they wanted to do with that gigantic terror roaring toward the farm. After 2 liters of water and four sandwiches, the beast tired substantially, and after it had eaten the remains of the chickens and part of the door frame, it took off across the hill in a blur of speed that chilled me for a few seconds, such was the insane velocity of it. We were saved, there were numerous high fives and whoops as we rejoiced wholeheartedly that we had fought the damned creature off. Afterward Erasmus did say that perhaps he was the thing malfunctioning and not the machine, as he did not actually like peanut butter, cheese, marmite and lettuce sandwiches. We both laughed at that, he had an inspiring sense of humor and was ferociously quick witted, the true model of a man. He was a fitting mentor for me after the mysterious disappearance of my parents, as he was much like my mother, they vanished in a yachting incident when I was fifteen years old.
After living and learning many new and wonderful things in the laboratory and library of Erasmus for five years I decided to venture out into the world.
I moved to the city to exhibit my paintings, mainly landscapes from around the lower north island coasts. They were very good though, and I had gotten several promising reviews and had sold enough work to work for the next year, on next years work. Erasmus had financed me during the early part of my sojourn south, and I had repaid him in a giant piece depicting the coast from Mana island, Kapiti Island standing like a sentinel on verge of the briny deep. We had stayed in touch, of course, he was my parent now and of course my uncle, on my mothers side. He always insisted I call him Erasmus, as he said he preferred his name without trappings.
I had been having a splendid year, meeting new friends, listening to new bands, and experiencing other cultures. I had just returned from a gallery opening of some of my newer work, involving supernatural themes, when I received the "bad news".
I had not been ready for the shock I experienced when I saw what had happened. Perhaps I glossed over the situation when I relayed earlier that I had merely had a cup of tea and a good cry. In fact I had had several cups of tea and sat in stunned silence staring at the piece I had withdrawn from the gallery opening.
The shadows on the trees, the wind rippling through the valley, the vantage point of the painting, resembled what the lady who had witnessed it had described to me over the phone, I was to meet with her in a couple of days.
The man trudging along vaguely aware of a malevolent presence at his back, but despite a furtive glance captured in the painting forever, he cannot see the terrible predator crouched low in the shadows behind him, seeming to glisten with an ethereal glow, the coming death.
I had painted Erasmus's demise, a specific incident that he had said might occur, that I might have some sort of premonition of his death, as there was a certain relationship with divinity in our collective history, and that his father had told him that I had the clairvoyant gift.
The painting sat before me, quietly relaying in the scene.
I must have stared at it for days.
The next strange tidings from the Kapiti Coast jolted me out of my meandering and self pitying malaise.
The dog disappeared from the pen in was kept in, pending a thorough investigation and a man that appeared in the pen had said he had stumbled through the quarantine gate as an employee exited and found his way to a comfortable straw lined pen that he had accidentally locked when he fell over. He was questioned and released.
I had to find that man.
Tune in next week for the second installment in this four part adventure series.
Next week
I spoke to her because I was next of kin, and those in charge of the investigation though it was appropriate I heard testimony from an eyewitness.
