Valor and Violence

Ulric Von Steinhertz hurried through the door into the mansion’s entrance hall, closing his umbrella and shaking off the last of the rain. He dropped it in a wrought iron holder, kicked the mud off his handcrafted Italian leather shoes and smoothed out his suit, then strolled into the entertainment room, wandering over to the beverage trolley and pouring a large glass of fine chianti.

He brought the expensive crystal to his lips and breathed deep, savouring the aroma, before taking the smallest sip and letting it soak through his pallet, enjoying the cacophony of flavours that exploded in his mouth. He felt the tension in his shoulders melt away in the throes of bliss as the heady flavour overwhelmed his senses.

Ah, the finer things in life.

He opened the humidor case nestled amongst the bottles, his fingers hovering over the thick cylinders within before settling on a particularly robust Cuban corona. He lit it, enjoying a few appreciative puffs before crossing to the fireplace, tossing on some wood and coaxing the embers into a roaring blaze. Feeling fully at ease, he ambled over to a high-backed antique chair and sat, enjoying the warmth from the fire and the wine. He still had a few minutes to do nothing but be content before the owner returned.

Try as he might, though, his mind couldn’t help but wander to business. Acquiring the tech start up in California had been an unwelcome necessity, but the engineering prodigy on their payroll refused to be bought out. It had put quite a dint in the company’s quarter two profits, but it would be worth it if the boy’s research into heat shielding materials bore fruit. Soon, Ulric would be the major global player in reusable rocket technology.

He settled back into the chair, a self-satisfied smile on his face as a rush of icy wind from the entry way heralded the owner’s arrival. He closed the door and shuffled around, going through his usual homecoming ritual, until he noticed the fresh mud on the floor and the umbrella in the case. Ulric sipped his wine as the man’s footsteps resumed, slow and cautious.

The owner was methodical, checking every cranny in every room in his search. By the time he reached the entertainment room, Ulric had almost finished his wine. Ulric knew he was shielded from the man’s eyes by the back of the chair, but the fire most certainly wasn’t. It had the desired effect as the owner darted across the room and seized the poker out of the fire place. Ulric smirked as the slender man hefted it to test the weight, oblivious to the unwelcome guest sitting right behind him.

“Hello, Doctor Eisen.”

The owner jumped with a yelp, almost dropping the poker as he spun to face Ulric.

“Who the hell are you?” he demanded, brandishing the red-hot poker.

Ulric took another sip and offered a friendly smile.

“Oh my, how rude of me. My name is Ulric Von Steinhertz. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Von Steinhertz…” Eisen mumbled, before recognition dawned on his face, “the CEO of Steinhertz Mechanical?”

“The same.”

Eisen lowered the poker slightly, still bewildered but slightly less alarmed.

“Mr. Steinhertz-”

“Please, call me Ulric.”

“Alright, Ulric. May I ask what you are doing in my house?”

“That is your right. Might I suggest you fix yourself something first though? Get comfortable? This is, after all, one of the most luxurious entertainment halls I have had the pleasure of enjoying. It would be a shame not to take advantage.”

Eisen nodded, the praise from one of the world’s richest men successfully inflating his ego a little despite the strange circumstances. He selected a decanter of what looked to be scotch, and settled into the chair across from Ulric, lighting a cigar of his own with an ornate butane lighter.

“Better?” Ulric asked. Eisen nodded, his eyes fixed on his guest, waiting for him to talk.

“Well, I suppose I should tell you straight out, I am not here in my capacity as a CEO. You see, I moonlight as a, hunter, of sorts.” Ulric placed his wineglass on the coffee table by his feet and steepled his fingers, ignoring Eisen’s sceptical expression. “Yes, I hunt monsters, the kind summoned to this world by the likes of the Sons of Solomon and their ilk.”

“You’re with the Order? The CEO of Steinhertz Mechanical moonlights for the crusaders?”

“You sound surprised.”

“Shouldn’t I be? That’s a fairly tall tale. Multimillionaire and monster hunter? Come, now,” Eisen replied with a small laugh, his demeanour mellowing as he adjusted to Ulric’s presence.

“Multibillionaire, actually. And with the right motivation and aptitude, there are few limits to what an individual may achieve, doctor. You should understand that, surely?”

Eisen’s eyebrows furrowed at the cryptic comment, and he took another sip of his drink, opting to remain silent.

“Well,” Ulric continued, clapping his hands together suddenly and sitting back in the chair, “that brings us to the here and now. The Order requested I come to Berlin and investigate the bodies that keep washing up in the Spree. The mutilation, the missing pieces, the fact there have been seven in the last two weeks, all suggested the work of a hungry demonic entity.”

“There’s a demon here? In Berlin?” Eisen asked, a bead of sweat breaking out on his forehead.

“My dear doctor, I would be surprised if there weren’t. But that does not matter to us right now. What matters is this: no demon committed these murders.”

Ulric leaned forward again, fixing the good doctor with an intense stare, holding it silently until the man squirmed. He started talking, just to break the silence.

“How do you know it wasn’t a demon?” Eisen asked, the first bead of sweat joined by several more.

“Demons are generally not picky about their victims. There are trends, of course, transients and rhythm of the nighters,” Ulric said, accentuating his point with a little shoulder shimmy, “and so on. People who are statistically more likely to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, or unlikely to be missed. These victims, though? Well, they were all in their early twenties, female, beautiful, and blonde. That is very particular for a demon, no?”

“I… I suppose. But if it wasn’t the work of a demon, then what? A serial killer?”

Ulric laughed and clapped his hands.

“Yes! Exactly, my dear doctor! It is the work of a human serial killer!”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Von Steinhertz, but I don’t think I can help you with this.”

“Oh? And why not?”

“I’ve no interest in this business. Now, if you wouldn’t mind, I’ll see you out,” Eisen said, standing and gesturing for Ulric to leave. Ulric’s eyes travelled to the poker, still grasped in the doctor’s hand. He hadn’t let it be more than an arm’s reach away from him through the entire encounter.

“Do you intend to hit me with that when my back is turned?” Ulric asked pleasantly, “is that how you overpowered those women?”

Eisen’s eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“But you do, doctor. It was quite easy to figure out the culprit once a demon was ruled out. The missing pieces of flesh were carved off with a surgical implement, by someone with a detailed understanding of the human anatomy. And all these women were customers of your clinic. They came to you, seeking more beauty through surgery, and in return, you left them to rot in pieces in a dirty river.”

“There’s no evidence. Nothing that will hold up in court. I am a respected surgeon, a pillar of the community! And you? You’re nothing, a money-grubbing whore whom the world reviles.”

“Ah! Your words! They wound me!” Ulric said, dramatically clutching his chest, “but… you are right, I am not terribly popular. Also, I don’t have enough evidence, this much is true. But I have no intention of letting you see the inside of a cell, so this is a minor issue.”

Eisen’s face went white as a sheet as he realised what Ulric meant. The Order was not law enforcement. In fact, they had a reputation for putting the ‘extra’ in extrajudicial.

“You bastard,” Eisen said, barely more than a whisper, “you bastard! You come in here, alone, threatening me?!” Eisen ramped up the volume, roaring while he paced back and forth, shaking his head and waving the poker, “I’m one of the most dangerous men alive! I’m the wolf among the sheep and you have the nerve to come into MY house, and threaten ME?! I’ll skin you alive, I’ll keep you awake while I peel you back, layer by layer, and when I’ve had my fill, I’ll take your manhood as a souvenir!”

He charged at Ulric, bringing the poker down in a wild overhead swing. Ulric tilted his head to the side, letting the poker tear through the leather behind him, catching fast in the heavy timber frame. As Eisen tried to pull it free, Ulric lashed out with a kick, catching Eisen in the gut, his soft midsection yielding beneath Ulric’s shoe before physics caught up and rocketed him across the room. When he slid to a halt by the drinks cart, he curled into a ball and whimpered, clutching his belly. Ulric sighed and stood, recovering his wine glass and taking a sip as he stalked across the room towards his prey.

“You think yourself a wolf, Doctor Eisen? What a ridiculous notion. You are a sheep, just like the rest of them.” He regarded the man silently for a moment and rolled him over with the toe of his shoe, bending down so they were face to face. “The only difference between you? You are defective. Broken. A bleating sheep that can’t stand among the herd. You see, the wolf preys on the sheep, as do you, but the wolf does it for sustenance, not sport. When the wolf hunts for sport, it hunts the bear. The lion. Dangerous quarry that tests it. Makes it stronger.” He turned and left Eisen, who was now openly crying, to refill his wineglass. He took a deep draught and closed his eyes, letting the nectar percolate through his being before continuing. “I came here expecting a lion. You could imagine my disappointment when I instead found a sick lamb. Still, I am here to stop the killings, and that is what I will do.”

He put the empty glass down and turned back to Eisen, finding the man crawling towards the entrance. Ulric strode over, grabbed him by the ankles and dragged him instead into the kitchen. He deposited the man by the counter with the knife block, leaving him sobbing, while he removed his jacket, unbuttoned his cufflinks and rolled up his sleeves. When he was ready, he smoothed down his shirt and crouched by Eisen’s side, staring him in his bloodshot, tear-filled eyes.

“Let’s get this over with, shall we?”

*

Ulric hummed as he finished mopping at his face with a wet towel, dropped it on the counter and rinsed his hands and forearms under the hot water in the sink. He watched the last of the red swirl down the drain, then checked himself in the mirror for any stubborn remnants.

Flawless. He thought as he left the bathroom and collected his jacket from the kitchen. His phone promptly started buzzing in his pocket as he carefully picked a path through the mess to the front door. He checked the screen and was surprised to see it was Pride himself, calling for the first time in God only knew how long.

“Lucas,” Ulric said as he answered.

“Ulric.”

“Was there something you needed?”

“Obviously. Otherwise I wouldn’t be calling.”

“True.”

An uncomfortable silence stretched out, and Ulric smiled as he imagined Lucas squirming on the other end. It was pure fantasy of course, Lucas was not so easily disturbed, but Ulric still enjoyed the thought.

“Whatever, Hans. There’s a job in London. Whole team’s being assembled. Get there ASAP.”

“Aye aye, sir.”

Lucas hung up, and Ulric’s smile grew wider. He had been annoyed to find no demons to hunt in Berlin, sure, but this new development was sure to be interesting. He brought up the number of his assistant, there was plenty for the man to do. Ulric’s jet would need to be refuelled, the pilot slapped sober, and the in-flight refreshments restocked.