The old man regularly took a walk twice a day from his house down on to the beachfront, once in the morning and for a second time in the late afternoon, always with his silver topped black cane in his left hand and in his right he carried a leather leash. He was often seen talking and calling out to someone or something that wasn’t there. Some passers-by thought he was possibly looking for his dog that had disappeared, others thought he was just a lonely somewhat senile old man, but he didn’t have that appearance. Tall and straight with long swept back silver hair he was always immaculately dressed in a three piece dark suit or wearing a long camel overcoat if the day was cold.
His house was one of those large tall double fronted Victorian houses overlooking the sea, and separated from the beach by a wide road, with the double gates to his property always left open; parked in the driveway was a vintage Bentley and an old Mercedes Convertible.
The four of them had watched the old man for a week, they had noted, checked and followed his movements and observed his twice-daily walks.
The house they knew was packed with valuable artworks and ancient artefacts that would net them a small fortune, but it was access to the vault in the basement that they really wanted. Their Boss had told them that the safe contained an extremely rare and valuable relic, ‘It was his,’ the Boss had said, and he wanted it back, and he wanted it back badly, and he would reward them handsomely when they bought it to him.
There were no video cameras or alarm systems in or around the house, clearly no guard dogs, and whilst the old man always carried a leash when out walking there was certainly no dog that they’d ever seen. He was as the Boss had said, ‘just an old man living alone in the big house full of pieces of art work and the valuable contents of his safe.’
‘Easy pickings’, they all thought, well that was what their Boss had said.
The four of them broke into the house that night, and as they entered the large white painted front living room the lights came on, and they were confronted by the old man seated in a large armchair, his silver topped cane lying across his thighs, a dog leash lying on the floor next to the armchair. The room was empty except for the old man in the armchair and a large long tusked Golden Boar about four-foot in height quietly standing perfectly still in one corner of the room.
‘Get up old man,’ said the the leader of the four, ‘get up, we know you’re all alone here, so get up and open your safe for us.’
The old man smiled and remained seated, ‘who sent you?’ He asked still smiling.
‘Nobody you’d know, but he knows all about you,’ replied the the leader of the group, ‘and he’s a very, very powerful guy, so do us all a favour, get up and take us to your safe sharpish.’
As the old man slowly stood up and leant on his cane, still smiling he asked, ‘so what did he tell you all about me?’
‘He just said you were an old man, an art collector who lives by himself all alone in a big house, why, are you someone special?’ Asked one of the four.
‘So let me tell you who I am, I am Loki, Son of the All Father Odin, and that safe you want me to open contains an ancient heavy War Hammer. Did he bother to tell you that I’m very very well protected; so are you all willing to brave my fury, that of my dog, and the Old Gold Boar standing over there, for the sake of a few artefacts?’
‘Your fury, your fury, what are you Old Man, delusional?’ Replied the leader of the four; ‘we can see that Gold Boar stuck in the corner over there, standing completely still like it's a fucking statue, but this dog you keep going on about, where’s this fucking dog? There isn’t one we can see, we can’t hear any sounds of a dog, just that stupid leash on the floor, so clearly there isn’t one, so stop with all this nonsense about the dog, as well as that Golden Boar and this rubbish about your so-called protection, just take us to the safe Old Man.’
‘So he really, really didn’t say anything about my dog?’ Asked the old man.
‘Don’t you understand what I just said?’ Replied the leader of the four intruders.
‘No, and I’ll repeat it for you for one last time, No, he didn’t say anything, about a dog, so just do what we’re asking.’
Still standing the old man tapped his silver-topped cane twice on the floor, and pointed to the wall behind him; all four now saw the shadow of a huge silent wolf-like figure looking as if it was about to pounce. The old man tapped his cane yet again and suddenly on that back wall appeared the shadows of three men now standing in front of the huge wolf. Looking round the leader of the group realised that his three companions had suddenly disappeared, leaving him now standing completely alone in the white painted room facing the Old Man, whilst the Old Gold Boar in the corner remained still as a statue.
The leader of the group watched, mesmerized by the dancing shadows on the white wall opposite, as the Shadow Wolf appeared to leap and attack the now silent shadows of his three men, who were projected onto that white wall; and all the while, the old man looked on silently.
‘That dog,’ said the old man finally, ‘that dog,’ he repeated, ‘is my Hellhound, The Embodiment Of My Son The Wolf-God Fenrir, a Silent God who only keeps to the shadows.’
‘NOW GO! Go tell your Boss, and YES, YES I know that your so-called Boss is my idiot brother Thor; so go tell him that his brother Loki says, that if he wants his Ancient Hammer back he knows where to come, and simply ask for it; and whilst he’s at it, he can also have Gullinbursti his old Golden Boar back as well; it keeps crapping all over my carpets.’
About the author
Henry is a retired Surgeon and member of the Canvey Writers Group. He has published a number of stories on the CafeLit site.
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