The Death of Pan: Part One (special preview)

I scratch at my chin. “Well, it depends,” I murmur. “I could run away, tell my only friend in the world to take care of it himself. No one wants to deal with shit like this.” I point the cigarette down at the body. “Or, I could suck it up and be the first to figure out how someone kills a god.” I grin and let out a laugh. “Second, go after the murderer.”

Haytham nods his head. “Where do we start?”

“Step back.” I move myself closer to the body again. I remove the sheet entirely, staring down at the dead satyr before me. I take from my pocket a safety pin that I jab into my finger tip. I smear the blood onto a mirror, creating a ring and symbol while I breathe the incantation.

The lights flicker, going dim, then out, then bright, then dim again. Suddenly in the mirrors, Pan is standing even though he is dead on the ground. Behind each reflection there is a figure standing, possibly more. 

I step back to the dead body. “Good evening. Or well,” I chuckle, “perhaps not for you. You’re dead.”

The Pan in all the mirrors grimaces at me. 

“So tell me,” I cock my head back. “What brings you here?” I fan my hand out over the corpse.

Pan’s dark eyes fall to the ground then look back up at me. The figures standing behind him shift in alarm, surging back from the reflection. “If I knew, I would tell you.” His dark rumbling voice is what I imagined for his reputation. It is both lovely and yet horrible at the same time. The true voice of a predator. 

I shrug my shoulders. “I know, I didn’t expect this to be so easy. But why were you here at the carnival, of all places in the world?”

Pan smirks, his reflections all giving an air of smug superiority. “Recently, my daughter ran away from home. I was coming here to take her back.”

I click my tongue. “Which one?”

His eyes narrow.

“You have six or seven dozen, I’m sure.” I place the cigarette in my fingers between my lips, a bit of blood has stained the tip. “Everyone knows your bloodline is an ocean, Pan. You’re going to have to be specific with me.”

Pan’s scowl deepens.

“You don’t even know her name?” I chuckle. “Wow. Even my shitty father knew my name.” I wanted to light my cigarette so badly in that moment. “So you came here searching for your daughter. What for, aside from your own control issues?”

I notice in one mirror, the Pan is different and the figure behind him stands much closer. Pan is looking behind and down at the figure then turns to stand like the others.

“She was kidnapped, I was simply bringing her back home. I get so lonely these days.” Pan breathes. 

I scowl. “You and I both know that isn’t the issue for you.” 

Pan chuckles. “How do you know so much about me? You don’t even know me. You cannot speak for the emotions I felt, the life I lived, the world I created.”

“I know enough.” I tug the cigarette from my lips. “I know the people you hurt, the lives you ruined, all because you couldn’t keep your dick dry.”

All the Pans grin and throw their heads back.

“I’m sure that everyone who has ever come in contact with you has motive for your murder.” I look down at the corpse again, seeing the blood is brown and black. His eyes are wide open, both sockets completely black. I flick my eyes back up to the mirrors. “But there are only seven out there.”

“Only?” He chuckles. 

“You came here for a reason, Pan, not just to chase down a daughter. No, no, she probably didn’t even matter to you. What mattered to you was that you were slighted.” I jab my cigarette out towards the center reflection. “She was kidnapped, taken from you, an offense of the highest degree. Your pride and self righteousness wouldn’t even let someone steal a penny from you, a piece of paper even. You built cults around yourself to continue the belief you were so much better. You didn’t come here for a child, you came here for revenge.”