Patron Saint Of Murder: Cypher Inc., #1

Mister X

Patron saint of Murder

Copyright © 2024 by Mister X

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

First edition

ISBN: 979-8-9918810-0-5

Illustration by Dire_draw

This book was professionally typeset on Reedsy

Find out more at reedsy.com

Contents

Foreword

Act I

Chapter I

Chapter II

Chapter III

Act II

Chapter IV

Chapter V

Interlude

Chapter VI

Chapter VII

Chapter VIII

Chapter IX

Chapter X

Chapter XI

Chapter XII

Chapter XIII

Chapter XIV

Interlude II

Chapter XV

Act III

Chapter XVI

Chapter XVII

Chapter XVIII

Chapter XIX

Chapter XX

Chapter XXI

Chapter XXII

Chapter XXIII

Interlude III

Epilogue

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Foreword

Legends, fairy tales, and myths. Each is a type of story, each holds a form of truth. Stories can be portrayed in varying structures and styles, from music, to poetry, to pictures, and verbal and written narratives. Whether fiction or fact, stories hold power. They spark creativity and draw out emotion. An engaging story can provoke anger, love, passion, inspiration, curiosity, despair, and hope. Each story we compose shapes the world around us; history is a prime example of this. Stories have the power to change the world, but for better or worse is anyone’s guess. Ladies and gentlemen, I am your humble storyteller, and today I have a tale to share with you. Hopefully, this story will change your perception of the world and the power of the stories that fabricate it. For all you know, this introduction alone has already changed your perspective. So, without further ado, let us begin.

Act I

Chapter I

Idespise the holidays and always have. I never understood how people could find such merriment in the most wonderful time of the year. Let’s be honest, this annoying holiday is really just an excuse to extort gifts and time from the people you care about and to promote peace on earth. It boggles the mind to see how much Christmas has evolved over the years. What started as a pagan holiday originating in Rome, where debauchery was a favorite pastime, is now a religious holiday invoking peace, togetherness, and holiness— whatever that’s supposed to mean. I wonder how many years we have left before Christmas morphs into something unrecognizable once again. It’s not my intention to be a Scrooge or to spoil anyone’s rum and eggnog. It’s just that I’ve always found the holidays boring and mundane. Most people would be content relaxing during this time, but my work tends to be put on hold for me. As you know it’s the most peaceful time of the year. It’s as if the criminal element itself took a holiday. Go figure.

Growing tired of the peaceful days, I spent my time casually throwing darts in my office.

Bullseye, I muttered.

I took my stance and aimed to score another. Realizing I was out of darts, I snapped my fingers and the darts returned to my side once again. A yawn escaped my lips as I gathered them. Though this process sounds monotonous, I found it strangely cathartic. It was a good exercise to focus my mind. In addition to improving my aim, throwing darts also distracted me from the monotony of everyday life. Again, I took a dart, prepared my stance, and aimed at the empty board. Oh, how rude of me, I should introduce myself and what I actually—.

Knock, knock, said a voice outside my door.

Come in, I said, prepping my shot.

We got mail!

The sudden shout caused me to throw my dart prematurely and I missed my target by a few inches. I glared at the culprit despite his apologetic smile. Perhaps I should introduce him. My canine friend, who is as large as a Timber wolf and as loyal as a Kangal, is my partner, Zed. We’ve been together for years. We’re in the same business so it was only natural that we live together.

Sorry, didn’t know you were busy, said Zed.

My annoyance subsided with a brief sigh.

"I’m not busy, that’s why I’m playing," I explained as I snapped my fingers and returned the dart.

"Be careful not to overuse your Grace. You know how you can get when you do," Zed chided.

I yawned and Zed shook his head.

Anyway, here’s the mail. Zed presented a fistful of sealed envelopes.

I am thankful for you getting the mail, Zed, but seriously, you don’t have to give me the mail in that form, I said, relinquishing the mail from his snout.

I sifted through the letters, finding one bill after another, until I came across a peculiar notice. The letter, with a weathered exterior and a natural color with a yellowish tint, seemed ominous, so I looked closer to inspect the contents. The envelope wasn’t stained, the yellow was just the hue of the paper. It was high-quality paper.

A weird design, even for this time of year, I thought.

On the front was a red wax seal engraved with a cross. I cracked the seal to reveal the contents within. It was a simple card sparse with words, but clear and direct.

"Naughty boys get a stocking full of coal."

The word naughty was emboldened in a dark red ink that looked very similar to oxidized blood. It gave me an eerie feeling. Zed, come sniff this letter, I said. He looked at me in annoyance.

Fine, he said with a long, drawn-out sniff. It’s scentless, he said.

Weird. Even ink tends to have a smell. This must be some substitute, I said.

I looked at the envelope one last time and found an address on the back right corner. Arctic Circle 37564. Not sure what to make of the letter, I put it off to the side.

Looks like junk mail or some elaborate prank, I said.

What about this letter? Zed asked as he handed it to me.

This one looked expensive and official. It was a bright white envelope with a typewritten return address in the corner. The envelope itself felt stiff. I surmised that the letter had been freshly printed was for a special occasion. Since it was addressed to ‘Residents of-’ I realized that this letter was sent out to a multitude of people, not just myself. There was a green wax seal on this envelope as well, but this time with flecks of gold.

Whoever sent this must have some deep pockets, I said.

Dear Current Residents,

The Evergreen Household would like to welcome you to the first annual Evergreen Christmas Party. With this letter, you will be given a ticket with an express pass to Evergreen Manor. Present your ticket to the conductor of the Glacier Express and you will be escorted to the manor. The party begins at 8:00 pm sharp on Christmas Eve. Let the Christmas season move you, and the feelings of joy inhabit you, for it is Christmas and all will be well. We look forward to welcoming you into our humble abode.

Sincerely,

Mr. Alderheim Evergreen

Hmm? Surprise, surprise, we managed to get an invitation, Zed.

From whom and to where?

Seems the Evergreens invited us to a get-together.

That rich family in the mountains? Is this because of our last job?

Doubtful, it wasn’t an invitation to us specifically. Judging by the letter’s presentation, this was mass-produced and distributed to multiple people in the area.

A Christmas party, huh? Sounds lackluster… Zed said.

I gazed at the invitation before turning my attention to the other threatening letter. I paused, thinking of the timing of the two letters. Coincidence?

Quite the contrary, Zed, I said, forming a smile. I believe this invitation is just the distraction I have been looking for.

I guess Christmas came early for us, Zed said.

With that decided, Zed and I began getting ready for a potentially interesting evening.

Thirty minutes later, Zed and I were just about ready to hit the town. Before we left, I stood before a mirror. I was sporting my trademark fedora and low-cut trim with a fade around the side, along with my black trench coat and a pair of leather gloves.

Gloves, hat, trench coat, and a good-looking dark-skinned guy to tie the whole outfit together, I said to the mirror.

Don’t forget to fix your tie and be sure to wear a scarf. Zed barked.

Okay mom, sheesh, I said.

It was still the dead of winter, so I made sure to dress appropriately. Meanwhile, Zed wore a burgundy vest with a black bowtie and khaki shorts, and he walked on all fours in the guise of a pet playing dress up. The outfit went well with his black fur. Despite his clothing being short-sleeved and ridiculous-looking on him in his current state, he carried himself with dignity and trotted along the path. Both the weather and the apparent gazes from the passersby did nothing to perturb him.

It must be nice to have fur, I said.

Zed smirked, fully aware of his winter advantage. Despite that, even I had to admit the burgundy vest really showed off his fur.

The Glacier Express train station was filled to the brim with people trying to make last-minute travel plans on Christmas Eve. From where we stood, I could see many individuals sharing heartfelt reunions as families reconnected with loved ones on last-minute arrivals. Even I couldn’t help but feel somewhat moved at the sight of a family of Wolf Beastmen coming together and sharing a moment. The father had come off the train with a haggard expression and, based on his slightly disheveled appearance with his black fur and tie, it must have been a stressful work week. However, all of his weariness faded away as soon as he saw his pregnant wife, sporting white fur, holding onto two pups at the station. The kids themselves were sporting white and black fur, and one of them was playing around with an action figure while the other threatened to snatch it. It only took a few seconds before a tug-of-war broke out. Fortunately, their bickering immediately came to an end when they saw their father approach. They were ecstatic to see him and ran in his direction. Not missing a beat, the Beastman dropped to his knees and extended his arms, hugging them warmly. Soon after, he ran to his wife and pulled her into an embrace as the children joined.

Oh, how sweet, Zed said, watching the touching moment.

Let’s just hope that the bun in the oven is really his, I said, turning away from the scene.

Really, man? Must you do this? Zed said, annoyed.

Look at the husband’s clothes and his expression. He clearly is in business, but based on how exhausted he looked, it is a low-level position. A job like that comes with a lot of stress and not enough money. If that reunion is an indication of anything, it’s that he has to travel far from home for his job, which is guaranteed to put stress on any relationship. His travels could give the wife time to be a little promiscuous, I said, trying to maneuver around the horde of people at the station.

Look, I know the term ‘holiday spirit’ means nothing to you, but must you rain on everybody’s parade? Zed chided.

It’s an occupational hazard. I see things for what they are.

Do you really believe that? Zed asked me.

I turned my head to look back at the couple. This time I saw them walking away from the station hand in hand, staring happily into each other’s eyes as they each carried a child. I stared at the scene for a few seconds.

It’s a possibility, hence why I said ‘Let’s just hope.’ Besides, the newborn should have gray fur regardless, I said.

Wait, what makes you so sure?

What do you get when you mix black and white? I said with a slight smirk.

Zed stared back at me incredulously. You really know nothing of genetics, do you? Zed said.

Unfortunately, the happy reunion did nothing to lighten my mood as we traversed the busy train station. The number of times I had to say excuse me or watch it was ridiculous. Since I already had a ticket, I was able to bypass most of the long lines to see the booking clerk, which was a stroke of good fortune. I headed towards the floating television that showed all of the trains scheduled to depart for Evergreen Manor. As I searched for the train’s arrival, smoke from the tracks quickly enveloped the station. Sounds of coughing, snarls, growls, and yells could be heard from the people enveloped by the sudden haze. Zed and I were in the midst of it and tried to cover our mouths. I pulled up the collar of my trench coat to block out the strange smoke. Although, I quickly realized it wasn’t smoke that was invading the train station.

Steam, I said.

Relieved, Zed and I calmly moved further toward the train tracks. The closer we came, the more the steam evaporated around us until we were eventually greeted by the locomotive. The train was jet black and appeared to stretch for miles beyond the station. The heat emanating from the train made it seem almost alive and like it was waiting patiently for a chance to run wild on the track. A few seconds passed until the door to the train flung open and a bespectacled man with a burly mustache appeared. All aboard! he yelled. It didn’t take long for us to realize that he was the conductor of the train.

Are you fellas headed to Evergreen Manor? he asked us with a jovial grin.

We are. I nodded.

Well, right this way. Don’t be shy and don’t worry about your dog, pets ride free of charge, the conductor said with a wink.

The conductor ushered Zed, who wasn’t pleased with being considered a pet, and I aboard.

Sit anywhere you like, fellas, the conductor said.

I tipped my hat to the man and walked down the aisle. While looking for a seat, I noticed that many supposedly upstanding members of society were already aboard. The smell of expensive perfume and constant chattering gossip about supposed affairs, business schemes, and the hottest trends gave them away as upper class. They reeked so potently of frivolity that I felt like gagging. Escaping the peanut gallery, Zed and I finally found unoccupied seats with fewer people around so we’d be able to speak freely away from greedy ears.

A few moments later, the train whistle roared as if it was a wild beast. I stared out the window as the train began to move. Slowly at first, but once we entered the tunnel, the pace rapidly increased. The space warped around us as we shot out of the tunnel like a cannonball.

Mana-tech has advanced pretty far, I said.

The light that abruptly shone into the window was almost blinding. Despite the warping speed, the night sky was still visible. The snow was reflected and brightened by the moonlight. I rubbed my eyes and continued to stare out of the window, mindlessly observing the city as the train sped off. Even though Christmas was right around the corner, the townspeople refused to slow down. It seemed like they were working harder ahead of the impending holiday. I couldn’t help but feel a tad bit melancholy as we left the city limits and were faced with snowy mountains. I stared out the window, still contemplating how the world has changed so much in the last century. Was it always like this?

Hundreds of years ago, humanity was in an all-out war. Nobody knows for sure how it happened or why, but many historians theorized it was due to a nuclear catastrophe. Personally, I’d put my money on a couple of big-wig politicians who were having a ridiculous dispute behind the scenes and the masses were caught in the crossfire. Still, the catalyst for either explanation is unknown. Either way, humanity was on the brink of extinction until monsters, or what we now call Legends, resurfaced. Imagine all the stories you heard as a kid—from vampires to werewolves, dragons, and elves—were as real as you and me. Apparently, these Legends have coexisted with humans since ancient times. However, as humans progressed with their rapid technological advancements, the Legends became less prominent. The age of humanity so overshadowed them that they went into hiding. Some went underground, some returned to their home dimension, while others hid in plain sight. Humans had forgotten the Legends almost entirely, remembering them only as fairy tales. Until the war happened.

Evidently, some Legends still sought revenge on the humans for driving them into hiding. During their world-spanning war, the human population dwindled. When the humans were at their weakest, the Legends broke free and began to wreak havoc on the human population. Humanity tried to fight back, but their attempts were futile. The Legends had an overwhelming advantage. Some of the Legends decided to enslave humans, keeping them as sick trophies to be paraded around. Others were like cattle for slaughter. With Legends officially back on the scene, there was a re-release of a particular substance that was fabled in the olden days. The substance only seemed to make some of them stronger and had a poisonous effect on humans. Some people died from the stress it placed on the body, while others became horribly disfigured. It was literal hell on earth for humanity.

Eventually, a miracle occurred. Humans began adapting to the poisonous substance, though nobody was sure how it was possible. Over time, humans not only adapted, they became enhanced by it. This substance was eventually called Mana, as it bestowed upon humans the gift of magic, that we later called Graces. Graces are boiled down to two broad categories: Physical and Magical. Physical types are called Enhanced. They consist of those with latent bloodlines that awaken varying physical