Druids of Le Mars by Greg Severson

Author:Greg Severson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Greg Severson
Published: 2021-08-06T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 24

Sunday

Aftermath

The next morning, Rolf woke up in a fog. He had fallen asleep on the couch, and the morning sun was causing the curtains covering the kitchen windows to glow in sickly pink. Damn it, he had overslept again for the second morning in a row. But he breathed a sigh of relief when he remembered he had left the “closed” sign hanging in the front door. He was safe for the time being. As he got off the couch and walked over to the kitchen to put the coffee on, he couldn’t bring himself to look in the mirror, at least not yet. What if he still looked like a hideous demon, or somehow managed to make himself look even worse? How was he going to avoid detection then? It had been extremely foolish of him to cast the strength and speed spell the night before. Look what happened as a result. Oh, well, no use delaying the inevitable, he thought. Might as well get it over with. So he grabbed a cup of coffee and stood in front of the mirror. As he slowly looked up at his reflection, he couldn’t believe his eyes. There was Rolf Wagner staring back at him, not some mutated demon. It was a miracle! The spell he had cast the night before worked better than he hoped as the old lady’s life force reverted him back to his normal appearance as he slept. He was back in business.

As he looked himself over more critically, there were still a few things that weren’t quite right. His head was still slightly misshapen, the skin covering his arms and neck had a pale-gray tint to it, and his hands were still somewhat deformed. Those were things he could easily deal with. At least he would be able to continue the charade of pretending to be a kindly old hotel owner, while keeping the real Rolf Wagner, the most powerful and magnificent warlock in the world, a secret until he made his move to Chicago. He promised himself his exit would be one to remember, full of death, destruction, and blood. Rolf danced around the room, laughing hysterically at the prospect, spilling his coffee all over the rug as he did. So he poured himself another cup, retreated to his secret lair, and sat in the sinister darkness, admiring his collection of victims glowing in the flickering candlelight. They were posed sitting around a dining room table, as if waiting for a Thanksgiving dinner that would never be served. At the head of the table was his newest victim wearing one of Grandma’s old dresses. Welcome to the party, Mrs. Hershburger.

At the same time Rolf was putting the finishing touches to his plan, Chief Mooney was busy finishing up his Sunday-morning rounds. After checking out the hotel, he drove by the railroad tracks and Hobo Town to survey all the destruction from the night before. What he witnessed, as his eyes swept across the destroyed camp, made him feel like he was stuck in a “B” movie.

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