Flash Fiction Magic: Feb 3 "Rewind"

This flash fiction prompt came from Emily Barnett, on Instagram @embarnettauthor.

"Wait," I practically shout, "Wait. Go back."

Danmar hits a button and the figure on the screen waddles backwards in a diagonal line.

"There." I point, and put my hand on his shoulder to steady myself. "Can you zoom in?"

Danmar takes a slow, deep breath. I can tell he's annoyed with me today, but he clicks some keys and the video zooms in on the figure's head. The camera was probably a hundred feet away. Standard-issue equipment would be able to capture an image clear enough to identify someone with about ninety-five percent accuracy. Which is why I came to Danmar's office today. His equipment captures enough detail to see whether a being has eyelashes. It’s incredible.

And for this job, I need to be one hundred percent sure.

I told him I'd pay him after the job was done, and he'd said no. "Not again, Vale." I could tell he was shaking his head the way he always did when he was disappointed in me.

I had to call in a favor.

When I said it, he went silent for a whole minute, and then I heard a noise in the background and he swore. I knew I was asking for a lot. Danmar's operation is extremely covert, and once… maybe twice… I might have almost given him away. He just moved his office last month. I felt bad, so I brought him pizzas and that ginseng beer he’s obsessed with and helped him move. After an hour, he growled at me to leave because I was annoying him.

I annoy him a lot.

Danmar couldn’t say no, though, because I brought him Chella this summer. And when she single handedly prevented the attack on Lorenwai, and his entire family was saved from being turned into dust, he said he would owe me a favor. You can’t take those back, and you can’t say no when it’s called in. And I deserved it.

That’s why he’s annoyed with me today. He doesn’t like it when I get one up on him.

“I’m sure we’ll unbalance the scales again soon, buddy,” I breathe. He grunts, acknowledging that our minds are in the same place.

I stare at the screen, tilting my head. This… thing. It looks like a human from the torso up, but it has a curved tail that ends with a sharp tip - like a scorpion. And its eyes are white with no irises. Though, they don’t look possessed at all. Just… hollow.

I’ve never seen anything like it before. That realization sends shivers across my arms and I grip Danmar’s shoulder tighter and he tenses. “Dude…”

“It’s a vasikka.” Danmar says, coolly, and I give him an incredulous look.

“What the hell is a vasikka?” I lean forward to study the details of the thing. “And how do you know what that is?”

Danmar’s been underground for decades. At least the past ninety years. He doesn’t have any friends that I know of, except me, of course, and his family still thinks he’s dead. He’s available all day and all night - no matter when I call I can hear him clacking away at his computers. I can’t even use the joke “he doesn’t get out much” because as far as I know, Danmar doesn’t get out at all.

Humor does help me get through the things I don’t understand, so I poke him a little bit more, saying “Did it come from the depths of hell, just like you, oh Dark One?”

So, so slowly, Danmar pushes his rolling chair back. I know I went too far now, so I pull my eyes from the screen and turn to give him a sweet, apologetic smile. He’s glaring down at me.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m just teas-”

His eyes snap above my head and in a fraction of a second his massive hand is pushing me down to the floor, sliding me behind him. I hear nothing except the crack of my elbow and the woosh of my jacket on the concrete floor. I would cry out and swear at him for pushing me so hard but I look up and see a golden beam sweeping across the office in front of us.

He’s looking through the wall, or using his echo-vision or whatever the magic power helps him see things that aren’t plainly visible to my own mortal eyes. I know, because I’ve seen him use it before and asked him a thousand questions about it afterwards. I can feel my heart rate rising, and I take slow, deep breaths to calm it down because too many of the monsters in our world can sense the slightest of changes in mortal bodies. I try to stay still, but can’t help lifting my head to look towards the elevators on the other end of the office.

Through the spaces between table and chairs, past Chella’s empty desk, I can see tendrils of smoke slithering up through the gap between the elevator doors and the floor. Danmar has crouched down now, and I realize he’s covering me up, his wide frame blocking as much of me as possible. At this, my heart starts to pound, and my face gets hot, and I forget that I’m supposed to be keeping as still and unemotional as possible.

I forget because… I’ve seen Danmar run away from people and things he’s supposed to protect. I’ve seen him cower. I’ve seen him hide himself away for almost a hundred years to avoid getting close to, and potentially losing, beings he cares about.

I’ve watched him run away from me when my death was almost certain.

But right now, he’s protecting me and I can feel… I can feel his heartbeat reverberating through the floor. It’s not just beating fast.

It’s raging.

As if Danmar is going to destroy whatever comes through that elevator door.

To protect me.

I can’t help it, I smirk a little. And suddenly I feel very, very sorry for whatever that thing is.