Holiday Gift Exchange: The Package Part 1

[kaelaaw]

My name is Karl Lapin and I am one of those super smart kids. You know the type that go to college when they are ten and by the time they are in their twenties have multiple degrees in forensic science. Alright we don’t all go into forensic science but I did. When I graduated I could have taken my pick from over a hundred employers all willing to pay a very high end salary. And believe me I needed it. My father was a single parent and not wealthy. While my intelligence did get me a few good scholarships they don’t give free rides to brainiacs, and multiple degrees equals multiple student loans. Now I have established I am a smart man but I am also a dreamer. Instead of choosing to work in one of the worlds best institutes, I chose to work for the forensic lab of the police department of my home city.

While my home city is a major city the job still does not pay enough to keep me out of debt. And so after three years I have paid off one fourth of one of my ten student loans. I live in a one bedroom apartment in a part of town that just barely escapes being part of the worst part of town, with my police trained german shepherd Sparky (I did a huge favor for the canine units my first week).  While not very happy with my living situation, I loved my job and felt I had it pretty good. However that changed on my twenty third birthday when a package was hand delivered to me with no postage.

Outside the package a card was attached and inside a letter was written:

My dearest Karol,

If you are reading this then I am dead. I have so longed to meet you and I must have failed for else I would not have need to write you this letter. My greatest regret is that I could not convince my son to yield and let me be a part of your life. Since I was unable to share my life with you I will give you all the greatest things I have held in my life. The first and the most precious is in this box. His name is Sergei, although you may of course call him any name you like. Place him on your mantle and take good care of him. The rest of my things will come to you at the whim of a group of self entitled men who call themselves lawyers.

My Love and Our Blood Bind Us Forever,

Jascha Lapin

While I did not understand much of the letter the name at the bottom was all too familiar. Although I had only ever seen it once. Long ago a teacher had made us all make a family tree and my father had very reluctantly written Jascha Lapin on the branch for my grandfather on his side. When I had asked if any of the people on my tree were still alive, my father grunted, pointed at my grandfather’s name and then cursed in what I would later learn to be Russian.

The package ended up being a box wrapped in butcher paper and tied up with string of all things. Not a single piece of tape was used. I tore through the paper and opened the box with more curiosity than I had ever felt before. Inside was a figurine of a young man wearing pants, a t-shirt and suspenders. He was sitting with his hands in his lap and his head bowed down. It was plain grey stone but the detail work was exquisite. I found myself touching the top of the head to see if it felt as soft as it looked. Of course it was rock and felt about as soft as rock but my eyes did not believe what my fingers were telling them. I flipped him over expecting to find a blank face since you were not really supposed to look at the statue this way but his face was just as detailed. He had a what they call a pretty boy face. It was the kind that got you picked on just a little bit in middle school but when you hit high school it got you the attention of all the girls. It was also the kind of face they looked for in pop bands and teen idols for movies and t.v. shows. While it was a pretty face it was also a sad face. I wondered why the man was sad and thought about it for quite a few moments before I remembered it was a figurine and not a real person.

I didn’t have a fireplace. Well not a working one. There had been one in this apartment but it had been bricked over and painted a long time ago. I would guess at least a hundred years ago. Still I had nailed a board up and put my favorite books and movies on. I moved a few down to a pile on the floor and rested the figure on the shelf. The way it was designed it looked like he was sitting on the edge with his legs dangling over the edge.

“Well Sergei it’s off to bed.” I didn’t find it at all strange to talk to him as if he were real and I patted him on the top of his head and went to my bedroom to get some sleep. I work the graveyard shift at the lab which means I go in just before the sun sets and I come home just as it’s rising. I spend the morning doing anything I like to do for myself, errands, housework those kinds of things and I go to bed around noon. Tonight I happen to have off but I still like to keep to my schedule.

My alarm went off later that evening and while I regretted having to leave the wonderful dream I was having I did look forward to what lay ahead. I always looked forward to waking up in the evening. I had two things waiting for me. Either I would go to work and do the thing I loved most in the world or I would stay home and do the thing I loved second best, play old vintage computer games. I did manage to have internet, (I lived off of ramen noodles to afford it) but I preferred the games that did not require it.

I got out of bed stripped naked and intended to go from my bedroom straight to the shower in my bathroom. Just past my threshold I tripped over something large and tumbled into the main room. I pushed myself up and turned around to see what I tripped over. There crouched in front of my door was another man. My first thought went to the gun I had in my nightstand but the intruder was between me and the nightstand. Next I remembered the baseball bat I had leaning against my, not really a, fireplace. I turned and grabbed it and then swung it around to hit the man on the head before he could get up. He slumped forward and his body went limp.

Scarred I had killed him I got down and felt for a pulse. He was still alive. I checked his head and there was a bump but thankfully no blood. I stepped over him to get into my room and I grabbed the handcuffs I kept next to the gun in my nightstand. Now I’m not a real police officer I just work in their lab but since I’ve made friends with quite a few of them and they know where I live they taught me how to shoot and helped me get a permit. The handcuffs I actually bought in a pawn shop of all places but they are police issue. I have often wondered how they ended up in a pawn shop. When I came back to him I noticed Sparky sitting in front of the man licking his face and whimpering. I had up to that moment completely forgotten I had specially trained dog that should have at least alerted me to the presence of an intruder if not done something to deter him.

“What the hell? Sparky why didn’t you sound the alarm?” I yelled at Sparky while shooing the dog away with my foot.

I grabbed the man’s hands and cuffed them behind his back and then I dragged him into my living/dining room and got him up into a chair. This was not any easy feat since the man was my same size and build and I can not bench press my own weight. Thankfully I am not that big and heavy of a guy.

Once he was in the chair I tied his legs to the chair legs and re-cuffed him behind the chair back. I gave Sparky the command to guard which surprisingly the dog obeyed and then I ran to my room to put my clothes back on.  The man was thankfully still slumped forward, passed out when I came back. This time I had my gun with me as well and I pulled up my other chair (I only own two kitchen chairs, really it’s all there is room for) and waited for the man to wake up. I know I should have called the police but for some reason I felt I needed to handle this on my own.

I was just about to call 9-1-1 out of fear I had put him in a coma when I heard a grumble like noise and I noticed his head start to move. Slowly his head lifted and I gasped. It was the same face as on the figurine. It felt like a slow motion scene in a movie as I looked over my shoulder at the shelf I had left the small statue on. It was gone.

I turned back to look at the man tied to the chair. He was squirming around in the chair as if checking his bonds and then with a sigh dropped his head.

“Who are you?!” I demanded. “And what are you doing in my apartment?”

“My last given name was Sergei, sir.” The man answered his voice had a Russian accent. “I awoke in your apartment sir.”

“What do you mean you woke up here! Where did you fall asleep then?” I was screaming mostly because I was starting to freak out. He looked like the statue and he had the same name as the statue and my mind was both recognizing the pattern and rejecting it’s conclusion at the same time.

“I fell asleep in my master’s bedroom, sir.” He answered still without lifting his head. As I listened to him speak I realized he didn’t sound the least bit frightened not at all like someone who woke up from being knocked unconscious to find themselves tied up.

“Master? You mean like a teacher right? Like a sensei or something?” I asked.

“No sir, I mean like the person who owns me.” He answered without the sounding the slightest bit like he was correcting me. “I apologize I thought my English was very good.”

I had to admit except for the accent his English was at least as good as mine, if not better I wasn’t an english major so I had to guess. But his answer….he couldn’t be serious? You can’t own people it’s illegal even in third world countries. I decided to ignore it for now maybe it was a language barrier.

“Okay whatever, what did you do with my statue? Did you take it?” I asked.

“What statue sir?” He asked innocently.

“The one on my shelf.” I pointed to my shelf which I realized was silly since he wasn’t looking at me. “Look at me!” I yelled. His face whipped up fast and his eyes locked on me. It gave me a strange feeling but I tried to act as if it didn’t and pointed again. “My statue was right there this afternoon.”

“The statue on the shelf, was yours sir?” He asked looking at me with slightly innocent and slightly frightened eyes.

“Yes, and it’s very special to me so you better not have broken it or anything.” I threatened.

“Your grandfather gave it to you, sir?” He asked nervously.

“Yes.” I said slowly. This was too much there was no way he could have known. The letter was sitting on my kitchen table but there was nothing in it to suggest the statue was what he had given me. I walked over and (in a move I had seen in way too my movies) pulled the man’s head back by his hair and put the gun under his chin. “I don’t know how you know that but I am done playing games. Who the hell are you and where the hell is my statue!”

“I….I...I’m...y..y..y-your st...st...statute, master.” He stammered looking up at me with eyes of pure terror.

I let go of his head dropped my gun holding hand to my side (I did not drop the gun I am too well trained for that) and staggered back away from him. I had known that was true all along it was the only thing that made sense but until he said it I had refused to believe it. Even though I knew I denied it. “How can you be a statue? That’s not possible.”

“I am half gargoyle, master. While the sun is up I am stone, when it sets I am flesh.” His voice was calmer and he seemed less frightened, but perhaps I seemed less threatening. “If you like I can turn to stone again.”

“Yeah I’d like to see that.” I blustered hoping to call his bluff but fearing I wouldn’t. Before I could finish blinking a stone statue of the man sat tied to my chair. My head felt like it was spinning and my stomach felt sick. I felt myself start to fall back and then something caught me. I looked up to see the man’s...no...Sergei’s face. I looked over toward the chair I had tied him to and saw the handcuffs still closed and the rope laying on the floor as if they had fallen off him. Carefully Sergei lowered me into the other chair and then walked back over and sat in the one I had tied him too. The cuffs flew back up to his wrists, which he had put behind the chair, and the ropes snaked up his legs and tied themselves back up. Slowly I put my gun down on the floor beside me, it was obviously no use against Sergei.

“How did you….” I didn’t even know what question I wanted to ask. That apparently didn’t stop Sergei from answering however.

“No bonds can hold me if my master is in danger.” Sergei answered.

“But...why did you…” I gestured helplessly at the him. “re-bind yourself?”

“If my master wishes me bound I should be bound.” Sergei answered matter of fact.

“And I’m your master?” Although he had been calling me master for several moments now it hadn’t really sunk in.

“Yes, master.” Sergei answered firmly.

“My grandfather was your master and since he gave you to me, now I’m your master?” I asked sounding stupid even to myself.

“Yes, master.” Sergei answered again without any condensation or hint that he was answering a stupid question.

“Can I free you?” I asked. After all it is the noble thing to do. I mean that’s what they always do with a genie. Of course I am now assuming gargoyles and genies are alike.

“You no longer wish me to be bound to this chair?” Sergei asked and there was no mistaking the hopefulness in his voice.

“Um right you don’t have to be tied up anymore.” I wanted to get up and untie him myself but I was still feeling slightly woozy and after all he could do it faster. And like magic the ropes and cuffs fell off. “Please make yourself comfortable.”

Immediately Sergei got up from the chair and walked over to sit cross legged at my feet. Well I guess if that made him comfortable. “And I meant can I free you from me?”

“You want to give me to someone else, master?” Sergei asked and there was that sad look on his face he had as a figurine. Was this really the same man who was scared of me a moment ago?

“No, I meant free from having any master not just me.” I answered. He actually smiled and I felt like when Sparky first looked up at me and wagged his tail. That reminded me of Sparky and I looked around to find him laying his doggie bed watching us through partially closed eyes. When did he go off guard command? That was a whole other set of questions I need to get answers to but would have to wait. Instead I focused on Sergei’s answer.

“No, master. I am bound to your bloodline. I will always belong to someone of your blood. If you die or do not want me I will go to the next closest relative.” Sergei answered.

“What if everyone in the bloodline dies?” I asked, the scientist in me started to examine every possibility.

“Then I will die, master.” Sergei answered this time he sounded as sad as he looked.

“Wow! Way to put on the pressure to reproduce. I thought mothers wanting grandchildren were bad.” I joked to cover up the sudden uncomfortable feelings I had. I thought back to my family tree that I had filled out and the question I asked my father about who was still alive. My only other blood relative now as my father and the thought of Sergei going to him? Well it was bad enough being his son I would hate for anyone to know what it was like to be his slave.

I was jerked out of my dark thoughts by yelling through the wall from my neighbors. It was Mark yelling at his wife again. I knew what would come next. The sound of him beating her and her crying. I tried calling the police but she would deny that he hit her and the only thing I could really accuse them of was disturbing the peace which they would both promise not to be so noisy and sure enough not a peep from them the rest of the night. I talked to all my cop friends but they all told me unless she pressed charges there was nothing they could do. Still it reminded me too much of my father’s drunken rages that I put my hands over my head, closed my eyes and tried to block it out whenever it happened.

I heard my door open  and looking up noticed Sergei was no longer in front of me. I quickly went out the door and saw him opening the neighbors door and walking in. I heard Mark scream ‘What the hell” and Kelly scream something about god. I quickly followed after him. Inside I saw Kelly in the corner arms up over her face and Mark standing over her his arm raised and a belt in his hand. His hand couldn’t come down because Sergei was holding on to his wrist.

Sergei turned to look at Kelly. “You woman, will call the police. You will tell them your husband is violent and is beating you.” He backed Mark into a door on the other side of the room. The door opened behind Mark and Sergei pushed him inside. It looked like it was a closet. “You man, will wait in here. When the police come you will tell them everything bad you have done to this woman and then you will do whatever they tell you. Your behavior disturbs my master. You will not come back here until you can behave and treat this woman with respect.” Kelly had moved over to the phone and was talking into it. Sergei shut the door on Mark and turned to look at Kelly.

I caught a glimpse of his eyes and gasped. His irises were bright red and glowing. I couldn’t remember what color they had been before but I knew they did not look like that. Fearing for my life I ran back into my apartment and closed the door. I turned the deadbolt and pulled across all the chains. I picked up my gun no matter how useless I knew it to be and faced the door. Sparky was alerted to my panic and came to stand in front of me. He growled low in his throat.

Sergei walked in through the door as if it were nothing. I was briefly aware that his eyes no longer glowed red and that Sparky had stopped growling before I fired all my rounds into Sergei’s chest.
He slowly dropped to his knees and he looked up at me large green (of course they were green) eye. I felt like I had shot Sparky.