An Interview with Lord Graystone, the Jungle Lord
Part Five
by John Pirillo
"Yes. The Demon City was raised from the depths of Qwan Chi, an island off the coast of the mainland by a dark wizard for the purposes of using its inhabitants to terrorize and control the populated world."
The words caught in my throat as I reread them aloud to myself later that day. Paris was unlike most cities. Rather than becoming quieter as it grew later, it became more rambunctious and lively. The sounds of cars and laughter were everywhere. Tiny electric bikes coursed through the mingling crowds of people who sought cafes and galleries, markets and friends to celebrate another day of life.
I was oblivious to most of it, but after I relaxed a bit, I became more aware of the city outside. A maid came to my door with fresh linen and I chatted amiably with her as she changed my bed clothing and towels. I asked her name. "Marie." She told me with a small courtesy.
I laughed.
Her eyes twinkled. She realized I had caught onto her small joke of obeisance. After that she told me the time she got off work. I met her in the lobby. I didn't recognize her at first; she had changed into a stunning, very chic gown with golds and browns woven in stylistic patterns, like a Van Gogh might have done. We spent the night strolling the great city, admiring the Seine's rolling waters, the Eiffel Tower and its splendid lights, and finally a small cafe where we had sparkling water and croissants.
I shall never forget that night, for it was the last I would spend there.
Lord Graystone had told me he would return the next morning to complete our interview, but then he must hurry back to his world for something he would not divulge to me at the time, though later I was to learn he was helping the Baker Street Brotherhood to fight the very disturbing litany of zombie like creatures that the Mummy creature from another planet had created.
The next morning Lord Graystone didn't show up on my balcony as he normally did, but instead at the door. He carried a volume, which he presented to me.
"I thought you might find this interesting, John." He told me with a twinkle of his eyes.
He was dressed splendidly, his tall bronzed figure half hidden in a tux and tie and a tall top hat. He even had a cane, which I know for a fact he would never use for anything but decoration. His inner and outer strength were that of a minor god.
I accepted the gift with a smile and hurried him inside, where he seated himself at our table, where I already had sparkling juice and croissants set out for our breakfast.
He helped himself, enjoying the sparkling juice immensely. He eyed me again. "Do you have a bottle I can take back with me?"
"Most assuredly." I told him. I got up and returned with a six pack and a cloth bag to carry it in.
He gave me such a look that I thought the smile on his face was going to explode. "You really must come and visit myself and the Lady Shareen one day soon."
I promised him I would, but knew that such an event was more dependent on him and his friends than me, as I had no physical way to cross between the universes, without their help.
I turned on my cell phone recorder and then let it run.
He ruminated several long moments, then continued his discussion of the battle his father had faced in the Demon City of Qwan Chi.
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Lord Graystone's father grasped the severity of the challenge before him and had come prepared for just such a thing. He had the ring of Amenthoth, an ancient Egyptian wizard king, who had commanded angels to scour his kingdom of demons and monsters in biblical times.
He held the ring up before the demented Dark Master and smiled grimly. "One who lives in darkness all their life shall perish in the Light."
The Dark Master seemed nervous, but didn't back off.
"She shall die."
"No, you shall!" His father had told the monster seated before her.
"I command the Light to prevail! The darkness to vanish! The hope of God to vanquish all evil!"
The ring did nothing.
The Dark Master chuckled nastily. "It seems both your ring and your God have betrayed you."
Then a tiny spark of light emitted from Lord Graystone's ring and floated into the air. It grew slowly. Tendrils of pure incandescent energies whirled about it. It began to weave back and forth before the Dark Master, as if preparing for a dance.
The Dark Master stood up and with scorn raised a huge and terrible blade and headed for the future wife of Lord Graystone's father. "She shall see nothing but darkness. I shall slay her!"
The dancing orb of light exploded into a burst of similar orbs of light and they shot towards the Dark Master and attached to his body. He laughed. "They are nothing, but a minor annoyance."
Then the light grew further.
The Dark Master's look of triumph vanished and his face began to show great fear.
"No!" He cried out and in that instant of fear and despair his entire body was consumed in white light and vanished forever.
The entire structure around his father began to shake and crumble. He dashed to the fair young woman, cut her down and took her by the hand. "Hurry. The whole place is going down!"
Before he could move her an inch, she grabbed his head and kissed him.
Then they ran for their lives.
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"I understand that the island went down shortly thereafter."
He looked at me quizzically. "How came you to this knowledge?
"Your good friend, Doctor Watson."
"Ah, John. I see." He considered this a moment, then leaned forward.
"After they left the sinking of the island and I might mention barely making it with their lives, they sailed home to England."
"What of your father's companions?"
Lord Graystone gave me a sad look. "Not one survived."
I nodded, understanding the depths of his emotions. It's hard to lose people you've become close to. And in those days the ships took longer to reach a port and those aboard became quite close.
He rose, grasping the cloth bag with the sparkling juices in it. "I must leave now."
I rose also and took his hand in mine. He gave me a firm shake that was just short of crushing. "We will meet again."
He went to my door and opened it. He turned back. "And I meant my invitation."
"But..."
He smiled. "Don't believe you're as helpless as you think."
With that he nodded good-bye to me and shut the door.
I went back to the table, cleaned up the dishes, then sat on the balcony overlooking Paris. It had been a very interesting interview. But then, weren't they all. This Brotherhood of Baker Street was powerful and imaginative heroes. I sighed. Sad that our own world lacks such. And with those thoughts, I went into my bedroom to prepare for my flight back to America and to write another story.
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