The People v. Eleanor Warwick

Eleanor looks at her reflection in the reptile’s eyes. She looks scared. Makes sense.

The predator slowly shifts left and right as if attempting to pick the best point to strike from first. Her long, thick body coils like a spring, prepared to launch herself toward her prey.

Eleanor edges closer to the door as quickly as she dares. She knows it won’t do her any good. The snake could close the gap between them in a heartbeat. She’s seen enough National Geographic specials to know that. Still, it feels better than just standing there.

Cassandra watches her pet size up her next meal with slightly masked satisfaction. She has waited a long time to watch a Warwick squirm. It’s a welcomed sight to eyes that have seen too few. Before she can derive too much enjoyment from the wizard’s predicament, a dull pain begins to throb in her temples.

No, she curses herself. Not now.

Despite her plea, her vision begins to blur and her head swims. Everything goes black as she collapses onto the concrete.

Grace whips her head around to check on her lady. Quickly snapping back to Eleanor, she catches her passing ephemerally through the door. Hissing angrily, Grace uncoils, shooting across the room like a scaly missile.

Eleanor barely rounds the edge of the door frame when the wall bursts outward, sending chunks of brick and mortar flying in every direction. The wizard dives for the ground, avoiding most of the debris.

She looks up to see the staircase several feet away. The exit quickly vanishes behind brown scales. Glancing around confirms the snake surrounds her. She quickly rolls to her back, just in time to see the wide-open maw of the viper barreling down upon her.

As is often the case with wizards, a moment of true panic, death mere inches away, takes Eleanor back to the earliest, most basic spells in her arsenal. With a thrust of her palm, a fireball appears from nothing and darts into the reptile’s mouth.

Grace pulls up sharply, just barely missing her quarry. Shaking her head furiously, the snake recoils. Eleanor seizes the chance to make for the stairs. Rolling to her feet, she races for daylight as quickly as she can.

Grace’s body slithers sharply to the side, completely blindsiding her. Hip checked with the force a small sedan, Eleanor leaves her feet. Landing hard onto the hard surface of the subway platform is bad enough, but Eleanor is unable to stop her momentum from carrying her over the edge and dropping her down to the tracks below.

So this is how it ends, she wonders, staring at the subway ceiling. Eaten by a giant snake.

Eleanor has considered her demise many times before. Her theories never involved her being digested, however. Before accepting her fate, she notices the snake’s body continuing to slide about randomly.

Maybe she’s still choking on her fireball or perhaps the snake has lost track of her. Maybe both. Regardless, if her interception of Eleanor’s flight was purely incidental, she still has a chance.

Ignoring her various aches and pains, she rolls to the side and presses against the platform. Hiding won’t buy her much time to come up with a plan, but it’s better than nothing. When the snake’s body comes to a stop, she slows her breathing and doesn’t move a muscle.

The tunnel grows silent, save the sound of Grace’s tongue quickly leaving and returning to her mouth. That’s when the flaw in Eleanor’s strategy hits her.

The reptile doesn’t need to see or hear her. It can smell her with her forked tongue. It’s how snakes track down their prey. Sure enough, Grace slithers closer and closer to the edge of the platform. Within seconds, Eleanor can see the scaly hide from her position below. It will only be seconds more and the snake will be on her.

Her mind races with possible, but highly unlikely, scenarios that will allow her to get out of there alive. She brings to mind everything she knows about snakes, but nothing jumps out at her as particularly useful.

It’s too bad Crane can’t faint again, she thinks. Without that little distraction, I wouldn’t have even gotten this far.

The idea hangs in her mind for a moment. Why did that distract the snake anyway? Easier prey? If that were the case, it would have gone after her. Instead, it smashed through the wall like an animal possessed. Could it be that the reptile was concerned? That it cares about her?

Raising two fingers, she closes her eyes and focuses. Eleanor tries to visualize where Crane fell. It’s tricky enough to use magic to reproduce sights and sounds when one can see where they want them to appear, but she’s flying blind. If she’s off by too much, there’s a good chance the snake will ignore it.

The fluttering flick of a forked tongue is right above her. Time is up. With a motion of Eleanor’s fingers, a menacing growl emerges from beyond the snake. Grace’s eyes flare and she slithers as quickly as she can toward her fallen lady. She doesn’t spot an immediate threat but isn’t taking any chances. The snake coils around Cassandra and lowers her head, ready to strike at anything that comes near.

Reptilian eyes scan the area carefully. Her tongue lashes in and out, smelling for a potential attacker. When she catches a familiar scent, she hisses in fury. The wizard her lady calls Warwick is trying to run away.

Her lady hates Warwick. If her lady hates her, then so does Grace. If it’s her lady’s will that Warwick die, then Grace will happily pump her full of enough venom to make her explode. Lunging forward, Grace flows out of the room like a flash flood.

This is stupid, Jessie thought. There was too much riding on this for me to be trying to make a point.

Yet despite the thought, she let Warwick go down into the darkness alone. She leans against the Hornet, staring at the access tunnel. Flicking away the butt of her second cigarette, she immediately pops a third into her mouth.

“You might want to pace yourself with those,” Henry suggests.

“Thanks, Dad.”

“Hardly.”

“You’re right,” she answers, turning her glare to him. “Thanks, Grampa.”

The wizard narrows his eyes. “You are a mean little person, you know that?”

Before Jessie can answer, Marvin returns to them, small notepad in hand. “Okay. Here’s what we got: Franklin. Gamble. Denton. Muiz. Jones. Crane. Mitchell.”

“Crane, you said?” Henry asks with a hand to his chin.

“Yeah. C. Crane. Apartment 6D.”

“Friend of yours?” Jessie asks.

“No. The name is somewhat familiar, though. Let me see the rest of the list.”

Marvin hands the pad over and then leans against the car next to Jessie. The hellblood continues to stare forward, taking slow drags of her smoke. “So, what’s new with you?”

She doesn’t spare him a look. “Since we spoke just last night? Nothing much.”

“Cool. Cool.” Marvin repeatedly shifts, trying to find the position that best accentuates his laid-back charm. Jessie takes note and rolls her eyes. “It sure was a late night. Got a nice boost this morning, though. Got in the car and ‘Don’t Stop Believing’ is on the radio. There is nothing quite like- .”

“I hate that song.”

Marvin’s face falls as though someone just told him there’s no Santa Claus. He stares, shaking his head. He tries to speak but fails. Finally, he gets a hold of himself. “You...you don’t like ‘Don’t Stop Believing’?”

“No.”

Clearly still struggling to wrap his head around the information, Marvin raises an eyebrow. “You do have a soul, don’t you?”

With a sidelong glance, Jessie casually shrugs her shoulders. “I guess not.”

“Wow.” The two sit in silence for a moment before Marvin comes off the car with a sudden burst of enthusiasm. “But ‘Separate Ways’? Come on. You’ve gotta love that one.”

Jamming out to the Journey tune on an invisible guitar, he bangs his head and croons the lyrics. “Someday love will find you! Break those chains that bind you!”

Watching the chubby man’s air guitar rendition, Jessie smirks ever so slightly. “All right. All right. Yes, I like that song. Just stop doing that.”

Flashing a silly grin, Marvin halts his impromptu rock concert. Catching his breath, his eyes fall on the access tunnel. “Is she going to be all right down there?”

“Warwick? She’s fine.”

“You said that- .”

“Look. I was giving her shit, but she was right. She’s done this without me plenty of times. Whatever’s going on down there, she has it under control.”

“Jessie!” Eleanor’s call is drenched in panic. She races out of the tunnel, her coat flapping behind her. “Kill it! Kill it! Kill it!”

Eleanor manages to get a few feet away before Grace bursts through the tunnel entrance. Marvin stares, wide-eyed, as a half of the rod-iron gate launches from its hinges and flies toward him.

Jessie snatches him by the back of his collar and yanks him out of the way. The gate smashes into the Hornet, knocking out its passenger-side windows.

Henry’s brows arch in surprise, but he calmly steps deeper into the alley and raises a hand to the street. He conjures a screen of illusion, preventing anyone outside the alley from seeing what’s really going on. All they perceive is an empty space between two buildings.

Clear of the tunnel, Grace halts and scans the new obstacles. Eleanor stumbles to Jessie and Marvin, the bumps and bruises of her fall from the platform catching up with her.

The hellblood steps forward as the snake rises and hisses a stern warning. Before Jessie advances any further, Marvin places himself between her and the venomous predator.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m protecting you!”

Marvin ill-timed bravado induces a roll of the eyes. “Oh gee, I’m so wet now. Get the fuck out of my way!”

Marvin is quite relieved to scamper back behind her.

Flicking her cigarette toward the snake, Jessie clenches her fists tight and darkness takes her eyes. The butt hits Grace’s underbelly and drops to the concrete. The snake watches it fall and then lifts her eyes to the small woman. She doesn’t entirely understand humans, but she knows enough to recognize that as a sign of great disrespect.

The snake snaps forward at remarkable speed. Her mouth opens wide, bearing her long, deadly fangs. Jessie’s reaction is faster than Grace expects from a human.

Jessie seizes the snake by the top and bottom of her snout. Her grip holds, but the sheer force of Grace’s strike pushes her backward, her sneakers skidding across the pavement.

Gritting her teeth, Jessie pushes back. Her feet find purchase and she brings the snake’s advance to a grinding halt, her long body piling up behind her like a traffic jam. Growling with demonic rage, Jessie flings the head of the beast to the side, slamming it into the brick wall of the convenience store. Before Grace can shake off the impact, Jessie drives her entire body weight into the side of her head.

Grace whips her head away from the wall with as much force as she can muster. The tiny hellblood provides little resistance and she flies across the alleyway. Jessie strikes the opposite wall with enough force to shatter a normal person’s spine. She, however, bounces off the brick right into a stoic pace back toward her foe.

Eleanor healed herself from her nasty spill. She eyes the tunnel until Marvin grabs her shoulder.

“Shouldn’t we do something to help her?”

“Sorry, Marvin,” she answers without looking at him. “She has to handle this on her own. I need to get back down there before the Stone vanishes. Henry will help her if she really needs it.”

Marvin says something else, but Eleanor isn’t listening. She remains focused on the tunnel entrance and the Stone she hopes is still below. She just needs the right moment to make a break for it.

Grace lashes out, attempting to sink her fangs into the hellblood. Jumping to the side, Jessie narrowly avoids the snap of the snake’s jaws. Grace quickly recoils and launches again and again. Each time Jessie sidestepped the bite, but each time plays right into the snake’s hands. So to speak.

Every strike allows Grace to coil tighter and tighter around her prey. By the time Jessie realizes what’s happening, the Grace cinches the coil. Scaly flesh presses against Jessie from all sides. She struggles to breathe as Grace applies even more pressure. All her supernatural strength fights to create some sort of room, but the snake doesn’t budge.

Her moment identified, Eleanor sprints for the tunnel. Sharp eyes snap to her as she runs. Lashing out with her body, Grace strikes Eleanor and drives her hard into the wall. She crumbles to the concrete.

However, the act requires Grace to loosen her grip on the hellblood. Before she can put Eleanor down, Jessie starts to make headway in forcing the reptilian muscle away from her. Hissing in aggravation, Grace returns her focus to the larger threat.

Black eyes glares at the snake as Jessie growls. She’s a sitting duck and she knows it. If she lets up on the coil, Grace will crush her. If she doesn’t, Grace will bite her with fangs that look pretty poisonous. Both fates sound equally awful. Grace isn’t planning on giving her too much time to consider it. She moves in and bares her fangs for the kill.

A hollow, metallic dong tells her some idiot has just hit her with a garbage can. Marvin stares up, slack-jawed, as Grace brings her head around to face him. “Oh, shit.”

Before the snake can act, unseen forces yank Marvin backward. He tumbles to a stop at Henry’s feet. The wizard still holds his hand up to keep his screen in place. “Are you out of your mind?”

“I had to do something!”

“Well, getting yourself killed is something, I’ll grant you that!” Henry turns his attention to the slowly slithering snake heading his way. To defend himself properly, he’ll have to drop the screen. Of course then all hell would break loose when the word gets out of a giant reptile prowling around Carmadie. He resigns to hold the illusion as long as possible, but as Grace lunges forward, he moves to abandon it.

However, the snake’s strike stops short and sudden.

Jessie digs her nails into the predator and pulls back on her. Grace hisses angrily before whipping her body to the side, casting off her hellblood attacker.

Rolling across the concrete, Jessie comes to a stop with her back against the wall. At this point, Grace is beyond sick of the demonic pest. Wasting no time, she rears her head and strikes down on her prey, holding nothing back.

Reaching out with both hands, Jessie catches the top of the snake’s mouth and presses down on the bottom with both feet. Grace tries to pull away as the hellblood forces her maw open as wide as she can.

The reptile’s mouth propped open, Jessie reaches down and grabs one of her fangs. Pulling with all her might, she rips the tooth from its socket. With a shriek of pain, Grace violently jerks her head away. Blood runs from her mouth as she moves to get her head out of the little monster’s reach.

Unfortunately, doing so exposes her underbelly. Jessie springs to her feet and charges, plunging the snake’s own fang into her flesh.

Another wail of agony escapes Grace as she coils up to protect the wound. As the snake’s head lowers, Jessie leaps onto her back, near the head. Wrapping her legs around the reptile’s neck, she attempts to do the same with her hands.

Grace bucks and whips around wildly, but Jessie will not be denied. She scrapes her nails into scales, clawing at the snake’s throat until finally clasping her hands together. Turnabout’s fair play, she figures. Pressing herself against the reptile’s back, she squeezes with all her might.

Grace twists and rolls, trying to scrape the hellblood off her back. As breaths become more difficult, the snake slams herself against the walls, but Jessie will not relent. She closes her eyes and braces herself against the repeated impacts.

Within moments, Grace’s head begins to sag and the strikes against the brick are slower, fewer, and softer. When the head drops to the pavement, Jessie maintains her death grip until the snake begins to shrink. Soon, Grace is small enough to fit into her pocket.

At first, Jessie only sits on the pavement, watching as the small critter tries to slither away. Rising, she easily catches up and looks down on the snake. With a bestial snarl, she stomps her sneaker onto the reptile’s head, twisting her foot to grind it into the pavement for good measure.

After a victorious roar, Jessie turns to her allies. She catches Marvin’s gaze immediately. He stares with undisguised alarm at her demonic transformation. She suddenly feels very self-conscious, almost embarrassed. If she didn’t know any better, she’d think she cares what he thinks of her. Settling her blood, the hazel returns to her eyes. She glances over to Eleanor, who picks herself up off the ground and dusts off her coat.

“And that, motherfuckers, is why I do the heavy lifting.”