Waxing Chaos

It wasn’t the time of the call; Blake was used to that, and he was a light sleeper - call it the nature of the job. When the call at 1AM is from your doctor, that raised both eyebrows. Blake wasn’t sick, and his next physical was over six months away, so obviously Dr. Miller needed a patient’s help for once.

He chuckled at the thought as he sat in the lobby of the E.R. Business was light for a holiday season, save for a man who strolled in holding an injured arm and promptly escorted back to Radiology. Seated at the opposite wall were what looked like two sets of parents, their eyes deep with worry. Blake’s attention drifted further down to the young girl wringing her hands into a sweat. One of the mothers reached across the empty seat between them and gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. Blake knew right away that wasn’t their daughter, a credit to the old detective days he left behind a long time ago, but not the instincts. Those never leave and have served him well in this line of work.

Before he knew it, Dr. Miller appeared and pulled him to a side office, where images of burn wounds in various stages from two patients lined up on the wall screen. Blake was no expert, but they appeared out of order, as the skin in the center pictures of each row looked remarkably well-healed compared to those surrounding them.

“So why am I here again?” Blake asked.

“Thanks again for coming,” Miller said as he typed away furiously on a laptop. “You know I wouldn’t have called unless I was out of options.”

“Gee...thanks,” Blake replied with a wink.

“You know what I mean, this one’s out of my league and appears to be right up your alley.”

“So, let’s hear it.”

“Kinsey and Jordan, both thirteen at the only middle school in town. Their parents call 911 at the same time last night saying their kids jumped out of a dead sleep with severe itching and pain. Kinsey on her arm, Jordan on his hip and leg.”

“Both in separate houses and linked with the same condition at the same time?” That was enough to reel Blake in.

“Correct. Cops searched both houses, no sign of foul play.”

“Did they know each other?”

“They’ve been dating for a while, that’s all we know so far. At first, I thought maybe they were self-inflicted, part of some sort of bizarre Romeo and Juliet lover’s pact. They are thermal burns, after all, but there’s no evidence pointing to a cause. We got nothing.”

Blake pointed to the center pictures that looked healed, “Why are these-”

“They’re not out of order,” Miller interrupted, causing Blake to think the Doc had his own special psychic ability to read minds.

“That’s the progression?”

“Yes, they both arrived with second-degree burns. Hers was almost third-degree, but we were able to pull it back before it worsened. Then late morning they magically started to heal... but-”

“Burns don’t heal that quick.”

“No, not even the best burn unit in the county could pull that off. I was about to release them until suddenly, they both got worse again at the same time around sunset. Those last pics are from about an hour ago.”

“Back to where we started,” Blake said.

“And where you come in,” Miller bounced back. “It’s my professional nature to be a skeptic, but that time you helped me...”

Blake tapped his shoulder, understanding it was an episode Miller would rather forget. “Don’t mention it.”

“Let’s just say I’m more of a believer now,” Miller sighed. “I’m stuck, and we have to do something before it gets worse.”

“Can I talk to them?”

The doctor shook his head. “They’re sedated to hold the pain off, but you can talk to the parents in the lobby.”

Blake felt the gears start to turn as he settled into his groove.

“I want to talk to that girl in the lobby.”

That made Miller stumble to get his words out.

“She came with Kinsey’s parents, but she’s not their kid.”

Blake turned to meet his gaze, “I know.”

“She’s Kinsey’s best friend. Her parents aren’t here. We don’t have permission.”

“I know,” Blake groaned. He was not looking forward to this. “You called me, Doc.”

Dr. Miller swallowed hard.

Tammy sat across from the doctor and his odd-looking friend, sipping on her favorite soda and chips from the vending machine bought on the doctor’s dime.

Blake hated dealing with kids. None of his previous cases compared to their world. To him, they were the third-greatest unsolved mystery behind outer space and the human mind.

Thank God for comfort food, he thought as Tammy took another swig of her drink and started to ease back in her chair.

Still, her eyes never left Blake, making it clear his work was cut out for him.

She offered her bag of chips to Dr. Miller, who took one and thanked her. The real icebreaker came when her hand slowly glided in Blake’s direction, causing him to sigh with relief so loud he had to stifle it. Maybe this wasn’t going to be so tough after all. He took one and used it as an excuse to scoot his chair closer to the table as Miller started the chat.

“Tammy this is-”

“How are they?” Tammy interrupted.

Wow, what a pistol, Blake thought.

“They’re sleeping,” Miller answered with a broken smile, “but they’re not getting better.”

“Will they?”

Blake decided it was his turn. “We don’t know Tammy, that’s why we brought you in to help.”

“Are you a doctor?”

Nice try, kid. Blake knew she was smarter than that, it was too late for her to play dumb.

“No he’s not Tammy,” Miller smiled, trying not to look at Blake for help. “He’s a friend of mine, someone who – well...”

All Blake could think of now was how much time – or little time - those poor kids in the burn unit had before turning too crisp to be rescued from whatever power was holding them hostage. He had to get this show on the road, but he had to find a middle lane that didn’t scare her too much. The truth was the best option at this point.

“I’m who comes to help when the doctors can’t.”

“So you’re a cop?”

“No, but I used to be. That means we shouldn’t be talking to you right now without your parents. We could get into a lot of trouble.”

Miller almost choked on his chip. Blake had just asked him to play along, not admit to breaking every law on the books. He could feel his license fading fast. “Can I have another chip please?”

Tammy handed him the whole bag, keeping her eyes locked on Blake who didn’t skip a beat.

“So, you can call and ask them to come up here and listen to everything you have to tell us. Or we can just talk like this and nothing leaves this room.”

Miller saw Tammy perk up at the options she was given and regained his composure. If this was the game, so be it.

“We just want to know what you know, so we can help Kinsey and Jordan.”

Hearing their names made Tammy cringe. Her eyes welled up. “It was Allison,” she sobbed.

“Who’s Allison?” Blake asked with the firm air of an official interrogator. He checked himself and pulled back, there was nothing official about what was happening here.

“It used to be the three of us – me, her, and Kinsey - we were all BFFs. Then she and Jordan started going together, she was nuts about him. Then Jordan broke up and a couple of weeks later Ali saw him and Kinsey necking under the bleachers before the ball game.”

Just when it couldn’t get any worse. Blake wanted to walk out right there. The only thing worse than dealing with kids was a love triangle with kids. He had to try to find some humor in this.

Well, at least they still neck under the bleachers.

Blake and Miller were a captive audience now and let Tammy spill all she had.

“Ali was so pissed and kept saying she’d get even with both of them. Every time we got together she had all these cult books with her.”

“You mean occult?” Blake corrected.

She snapped her fingers and pointed at him, “Yeah, that! She was always into that stuff, but now she was studying it more than her homework. Witchcraft stuff, she loved candles too, she has candles all over her room, but her mom won’t let her light them cuz she’s afraid of catching the house on fire. She’s into all that super-spirit stuff.”

“Supernatural,” Blake corrected again.

“Yeah, sorry.”

“That’s ok,” Blake replied. “Did she say what she was going to do?”

“No. I don’t know how, but it was bad enough to do this to them. She even loves her Human Biology class now, and she hated all those science classes. We all took our blood last week in class to see what our blood types were. She couldn’t wait to prick her finger and do that, and Ali’s scared to death of needles! It’s like she’s not afraid of anything anymore.”

With that Tammy broke down in heaving sobs. Miller stepped over with a handkerchief and gave her plenty of time to compose herself before she left.

“Let’s hope she keeps this to herself.” Miller said.

Blake rubbed his eyes. “I think she will. She’s too scared for Allison to know she snitched on her. Hell hath no fury and all that. Do you have connections at the school?”

Miller perked up and now actually looked excited to be a useful part of this. “I have enough pull, what do you need?”

“That blood test they did in Biology class. Can you get the blood types from the teacher and see if they match what you have on record for Jordan, Kinsey, and Allison?”

“Done,” Miller answered, “you have a hunch?”

“It’s always a hunch. Things like this start with blood.”

Miller sighed, falling back in his chair. “Damn Blake, what happened to an old-fashioned three o’clock high one-on-one fight at the flagpole to settle things? A black eye and a few bruises - then you both walk away and that’s that.”

“Yeah, I do miss those days.”

“Now it’s all bullets or whatever this power is Allison found.”

“Except...”

“What?”

“It’s like your germs and diseases, sometimes it finds you.”

Dr. Miller let Blake in to see both patients without causing a scene. Kinsey and Jordan were in the same room given the unique situation. Blake knelt and looked closely at Jordan first, his hip and upper leg looked the same as the picture, nothing out of the ordinary as far as burns go. He moved to Kinsey’s bed next and studied her arm. The seepage through the bandage was enough. She was in worse shape than Jordan.

What was interesting were the flakes on the floor that caught his eye as he stood to leave. He touched his tongue to wet his finger and picked one up. It was too solid to be skin and also had weight. He gently rubbed it and watched the flake break apart and fall to the floor. Another piece fell but it wasn’t from him. At closer inspection he could see buildup of the same flakes around the edge of Kinsey’s bandage. He rushed back to Jordan and found the same material peeling from his.

“Wax,” he whispered.

Ertha pushed the cat out of the way and stumbled to the phone with fresh brownie batter dripping from her spoon thinking this had better be damn good to interrupt her baking.

“Hey Witchie-Poo, how’s tricks?”

She smiled, Blake always was good enough to make time for.

“New brownie recipe and this one’s spell-free Blake. How you been honey?”

“Wishing I didn’t have to call you on this one - I’m trying as much as I can on my own – but these are kids, and they don’t have much time.”

“Let’s hear it.” Ertha turned the stove off and listened intently to Blake’s story as she took a seat and motioned for the cat. It obliged and leaped to her lap, purring louder with each of her strokes. She could always access the deeper knowledge with her familiar close by. Or maybe it was just therapeutic and pets made her think straight.

“So the girl gets dumped, gets pissed, and now is playing with whatever she could read up on at the used bookstore to get revenge.”

“That about sums it up.”

“Sounds like a form of Chaos Magic.”

“Come again?”

“Well usually it’s with Sigils, but that’s too strong for a kid of thirteen to use. You’d be seeing a lot more than two burn victims. Hell, I would be feeling ripples if that’s what it was.”

“You’re talking demons, and this isn’t that.” Blake confirmed.

“Exactly hon. This girl’s imprinted her intent onto something resembling those kids and channeling that power to those two. Not voodoo but close to it.”

Blake’s voice chuckled, “You told me never to say the V-word.”

“I’m allowed.” Ertha pushed the cat off her lap and resumed stirring the pot. “You said she likes candles and may have their blood.”

She smiled at Blake’s silence, a good sign he was putting the pieces together. “See, you didn’t need me.”
“I always need you, thanks Teacher.”

Ertha asked that he keep her posted, dipped her finger in the batter and gave the cat a taste.

“Damn, whatever happened to duking it out after school,” she asked the feline. A shake of its head told her what she needed to know.

“Yep, more butter.”

Blake’s hunch on the blood was right. Miller called and said the types turned in for the biology project did not match the ones he had on record.

“So she swapped them in class and turned in the wrong samples? What kind of cheating is that?”

“No wait, get this,” Miller said with an excitement Blake couldn’t resist. “The Bio teacher said later when she was cleaning up that two slides of blood samples were missing.”

“Kinsey and Jordan. She stole them.”
“Yes! That’s good, right?”

“Excellent work Doc,” Blake laughed, “you could have been a detective. How are they doing?”

“Back in a healing pattern again since the sun came up, but I don’t want to take my chances on another night of this. They may not make it.”

“Don’t worry, they will.”

It was still early, and Blake had plenty of strings to pull before dusk. He had to search Allison’s house and hoped her parents would be understanding enough. There wasn’t time to get a warrant, but he had an old buddy at the station. A police escort might be convincing enough.

Allison’s mom stood on the porch with a look that showed more stress than she could take. Blake stood behind the officer as inconspicuous as possible in his best detective coat and tie he dug out of the back of the closet. It never hurt to keep the old wardrobe handy.

“She’s not here, she’s at school.”

“We know,” the officer said. “We’d just like to see her room if we can.”

She folded her arms and asked the one question they both dreaded.

“Do you guys have a warr-”

Blake stepped up and stretched the truth as best he could without scaring her off.

“Ma’am, we’re neither out to arrest anyone nor after your daughter. We do know her relationship with the two in the hospital and would like just a few minutes to look around and see if there’s anything that can help us figure this out.”

She took a step back but kept her arms folded. Blake was getting through but let the rest fall hard just in case.

“Please, you’re a mother. Those two may not make it through another night.”

Two minutes later, they were upstairs in Allison’s room. There was nothing unusual at first glance, but upon closer inspection Blake found exactly what Tammy had said. On the dresser were several books on witchcraft and dark magic. Resting on a table near the window was a hobby knife and several candles. Wax shavings were scattered all about, spilling onto the floor. Blake looked at her current project in the center, a new sculpture she had just started on, apparently. Too early to resemble anything.

Her next victim? Blake thought with a shiver. He looked around, but there was nothing he could use. Of course not, he knew Allison would never let the carvings of Jordan and Kinsey out of her sight. It would be like unplugging a power cord, she had to stay close to keep it channeled and flowing.

That still didn’t explain the burning wounds.

“She loves those damn candles.” Allison’s mom said apologetically, wiping her eyes. “I won’t let her light them, so she took up this carving craze.” She chuckled, “At least it’s harmless arts and crafts, lets her be creative.”

Blake smiled back and headed back down, frustrated he didn’t have more to confront the girl with and convince her that he knew her secret. He had to scare her into stopping.

“Nice decorations,” the officer commented. “You folks keep them up until New Years?”

“Usually not,” Mom answered. “This is the first year Ali won’t let us take the tree down until then.”

Blake noticed one strand on the tree blinking out of sync with the rest, and that then went dark. “Looks like you have a short.”

“Oh jeez, I told her not to hang those wax ornaments she’s been making, the lights go nuts when they melt. She takes them with her to school, but always puts them back on the tree at night before I know it.”

Blake froze, then asked for a closer look. Near the faulty strand of lights were two bare branches, limp from the strain of whatever had been hanging there. A white drip with a minor tint of red was forming at the ends, coating the needles. Wax shavings littered the tree skirt below.

Now he had enough - his fire.

He thanked her and rushed for the door.

“Is there anything else I can do?”

“Yeah,” Blake replied, “let her burn those candles instead.”

Blake had the school resource officer arrange to have Allison pulled out of fourth period just before lunch. It was best for the principal to do the honors; in Blake’s day, no one defied the top authority at school, and he was always scared to death of his.

The door to the conference room opened and in walked some devil worshipper decked out in gothic robes with her face buried in straight jet-black dyed hair?

No.

Allison was as unassuming as the rest with jeans and a denim jacket, nice long curly brown hair and puffy cheeks. She reminded Blake of his first real girlfriend, which felt like a hundred years ago.

Blake thanked the principal as he closed the door and left them alone. She gave a quizzical look and dropped her backpack. Blake stayed silent and waited, locking his gaze. Allison could only play it cool for so long. She started to fidget and casually waved her hair back over her shoulders.

There they were.

“Nice earrings,” Blake grinned, “I hear they make good Christmas ornaments.”

Stark realization came as she noticed what she had just done, then bounced back quick.

“You’re not a cop,” she snapped.

Blake leaned in, “No – I’m the one who knows everything.”

With that, she raced to the door and flung it open, almost running into the principal. Behind him – eyes narrowed to slits - was her mother. It was a last-ditch effort, but Blake had told her just enough to convince her to come.

“You want the whole school to know? You want everyone to avoid you in the halls and never have another boyfriend because they’re scared to death of you? You want to make your mom move to another town and another school to get away from all this? Over a breakup?”

Allison shut the door, marched back to her seat. “I didn’t think it would hurt them that much.”

He held his phone up and flipped through pics of Kinsey and Jordan, bandaged and sedated on gurneys.

“This much? Well, you did.”

Allison felt a wave of nausea, the wax figures on her ears dangled in the dull sun coming through the window. Now all Blake saw was another lost, confused child.

“You stole the slides of their blood in Biology class, mixed it with wax and made an effigy’s out of them. You used whatever power you learned in those books to imprint your intent on them, hang them on the tree at night while the lights burn them just enough, then on your ears during the day. That’s why your ex-friend and ex-boyfriend are healing right now, there’s nothing to melt them. One more night on your tree and they might die.”

Blake tossed something on the table, it was the unfinished carving from Allison’s room.

“Who was this going to be? Who’s next?”

“No-one.” Her voice lowered to a whisper, “Just a gingerbread house.”

Blake believed that, she was broken now and way out of her league.

“Allison, this power you think you have – it has you. You will lose control if you don’t give it up now.” He shook the phone in front of her face. “I’ve seen a lot worse than this, believe me. I’ve also been through plenty of break-ups, and it sucks, but it’s not worth all this.”

She swallowed hard and met his eyes, “What do I need to do?”

“First, you have to freely give up this power for it to leave. Then you’re going to change you’re reading habits and give me all those books you think you understand. Try some fun and entertaining stories. Find someone else to break up with you. Then find someone else and break up with them. Then find someone that maybe wants to be with you. Just roll with it and live.”

Allison’s hands went to both ears. Blake stopped her.

“Wait, we’re going to do this the right way.”

Blake and Dr. Miller watched from the hall of the E.R as Allison walked in, her mother close behind. She approached Jordan’s bed, removed one earring and set it next to him, then moved over to Kinsey and did the same. Blake gave her a thumbs-up as she left.

“At this rate, we should have them out in the morning,” Miller said. “They’re healing nicely.”

“Good deal,” Blake replied. Then with a swift stride he walked to each bed, took both wax figures and crumbled them in his hands over the trash.

Miller gasped.

“Don’t worry, Doc.” Blake laughed with a slap on his back as they walked down the hall. “The powers gone now.”

“What about those flakes you found on the bandages? Would those two have turned to wax if Allison kept her figures away from the heat?”

Blake pondered a moment. “Stuff like that is usually a side effect - like a glitch in the flow of power – but I’m glad we didn’t have to find out.”

“Did she give you all the books?”

“Yep.”

“I’m hungry, how about a late dinner?”

“Sure, can we do it by candlelight?”

About the Author

When he’s not working as an office administrator for a tech company, Kevin is either reading, writing, or watching movies – the typical habits of a boring single straight male (but he\'s fine with it). He can also be found in a quiet corner at his local library on Sunday afternoons (but don’t disturb him).