The Kidnapping

Kidnapping Part 4: The Last Ogre King

           "The enemy flies by night," he snarled, "It flies by mist, by bat and wolf. It feeds on blood and has control over those it feeds upon. The more it feeds, the stronger that control is."

"But, what can we do, then," Greg stammered. His face had gone white with fear.

Something slammed against the door just then. We were lucky that it didn't kick it open. No fear or panic lit upon the pale green face of the officer. Instead, he looked for a moment, then ran off into the darkness. A second later he came back from the wall, dragging a large, thick pipe then braced it against the door. "We have little time. Follow me," he growled then ran off into the darkness again.

Greg and I didn't run. We walked in the direction of the Ogre, finding him very quickly, looking very annoyed at both of us. "You must move quickly!"

"We can't in full dark. We don't have the night vision you do," I snapped.

"That's why I chose a flat path that avoided obstacles. Quick, get in." He held up a large grate of some kind that seemed to lead down into an underground tunnel that seemed to be part of a storm drain system. Greg handed me the ankle biter, temporarily. I grimaced at holding the thing. I wanted to just slam that beast into the side of the drain and be done with it. But we were paid to bring it back alive, more or less. Important for all humanity and all that crap.

The grate slammed down above us. "Make no sound, no matter what," he said, then looked at me, "You of all humans know what to do should I not live."

"I cannot promise vengeance," I said in reply, "but we will fulfill this mission or die trying." The ogre gave me a solemn nod before closing the grate. There were two loud bangs. The nothing. An ear-piercing snarl, then a wail. Finally, silence. We waited a moment. Then two. Crouched in that tiny pipe, listening for a sound, anything.

Finally, the grate was lifted back slowly. The sound of metal scraping against stone echoed through the tunnel. Greg held up a shaky pistol while I backed away slowly. A green hand appeared. Followed by a pale green head. "You must hurry," he replied, while reaching down to grab help us out of the pipe. A pungent order struck us as soon as we climbed out of the pipe.

"What is that," Greg asked, while trying to hold back a gag.

"Rotten blood. Vampire blood. Plus ogre blood." I said without looking down. We walked slowly back towards the light. The ogre cop staggered behind us, swaying just a bit on his feet. His entire right arm shined in the thin moonlight, as if it was coated in oil. He carried a head in one massive hand: the head of the vampire that was attacking us.

"More will come," he huffed. He paused a moment, taking a breath. "They will come here after me. You must go. You must make the rendezvous. Go to the police station in cotton village. There is a house across the street who will give you aid."

"Why are you helping us," Greg asked. His voice held a note of incredulity. Again, I wanted to smack him.

The cop looked to me the back at him. "You never heard the story of the last Ogre king?"

I nodded. Greg shook his head. "Son," the ogre said looking at Greg, "you've lived quite a sheltered life." He looked back at me. "Explain it to him on the way. Do not forget these directions."

He opened a steel door revealing a set of steps that rose up behind the apartment building to meet the street and the night sky. The back of the apartment complex was no better than the front. Most windows were boarded up. One near the top had been smashed through, fresh splinters littered the steps and street below it. We made no noise as we walked down that street towards the Cotton Village district.