Bastard Son of Nelson Creed part 1

In 1979, an unconscious man wearing a diving suit was discovered inside the bed of a wrecked truck in the woods.

Nelson Creed sat at the bar with his far-too-young pregnant wife Mary seated next to him who, as usual, said nothing while her eyes avoided any sort of contact. Nelson drank his beer and smoked his cigarette contently as, besides Frank the bartender, no one else was around. It wasn’t unusual as Widow Springs was a very small town and being the lone patron in the town’s only bar was always a possibility. Certainly, as Nelson was known to frequent the bar, many people avoided it all together if they noticed his truck out front. Dale McGregor, a local farmer, entered the bar all the same. That wasn’t too alarming, in and of itself, but what was peculiar was that the man didn’t sit down. Nor did he say anything. He simply walked to the middle of the bar, turned, and faced Nelson.

Even though Nelson had his back to him, Dale set his sights on him and the blank expression on his face didn’t change. He simply stood and stared. Since the couple faced the bar’s mirror, they were aware of the man behind them but Nelson didn’t seem to care and took a drag from his cigarette; Mary was much more concerned about the odd behavior however, and instinctively ran her hand along her pregnant belly. It was a bizarre sight to be sure and she made a few glances at Nelson to gage his response but he was more focused on the beer and cigarette. Nelson was a known bully who would assault and intimidate those around him with little provocation. Typically, people did their best to avoid him so any confrontational action was nearly unthinkable. Then again, situations had gotten heated recently between Nelson and the people in town (Dale and his family in particular) and in her heart, she knew the levee finally broke.

Dale’s wife entered the bar next and Mary hoped she might convince Dale to leave but instead, she joined him at his side. Now there were two people staring at them. Next came the local grocer who also made his way to the center of the bar along with his wife trailing behind. Like the others, they stood still and began staring at Nelson, making no other movement or sound, their blank expressions conveying no emotion. Mary was already nervous about Dale but when others joined, it became surreal and unnerving. She was scared but remained seated, catching only quick glances at the mirror to see if they were still behind them.

Then more came in, perhaps a dozen, and in a town like Widow Springs, that was a lot. Like those before, they stood and stared at Nelson. The bar was small and could scarcely contain the amount of people inside and yet, more came in. Mary thought about asking Nelson if they could leave but he had made it clear in the past that they came and went when he was ready. She worked up enough courage to look at him a second time, however, and noticed he too was making glances at the mirror. She wondered if he was as scared as she was. He had to at least share her confusion and it was frustrating that she was the only person there who was acting normally. The bartender was now nowhere to be seen and it appeared as though the entire town had piled into the small room to stare at Nelson. Finally, he looked over his shoulder and mockingly asked, “Buy ya’ll a drink?” before putting his cigarette out in the ashtray and finishing his beer. When they got off their stools, Mary avoided eye contact and since the room was packed, she expected the small crowd to stop them from leaving. Surprisingly enough, they quietly and simultaneously cleared a path and left plenty of room for them to walk outside which disturbed Mary even more as it was certain that was what they wanted. Nelson did not seem to make this realization and stepped out the door with confidence. She wanted to warn him and wondered if she was more afraid of the townspeople or of Nelson. She opted to remain silent either way.

The truck sat on the other side of the small parking area but it might as well have been a mile away. Mary looked at the gravel-covered ground as she followed Nelson, wondering if they were behind them or if they remained inside. She tried her best not to look but curiosity got the better of her and when she briefly turned, she saw that the town residents were now standing outside the bar, much to her horror. What was worse, they did not go much farther past the first parking spot. They remained in front of the door with blank expressions, clearly waiting for something to happen. Something they knew was inevitable but remained a mystery to her and Nelson. She ran her hand across her belly again.

Since she was lagging behind to meet the stares of the town, she expected Nelson to bark out an order. She was surprised to hear him calmly say, “It’s alright, just get in the truck.” It was one of the very few times in his life he appeared remotely comforting and that did nothing to calm her nerves since she took it as a subtle hint that he was afraid after all. It would also be the last words he ever said directly to her. She complied and sat in the passenger seat of the truck and as she closed the door, she could hear Nelson shout, “The hell you people want?” Her heart was racing and as she sat facing the road parallel to the truck, she could faintly hear Nelson ranting and raving. The rants and verbal threats were commonly heard in that town and usually, it resulted in the residents backing down or leaving as quickly as possible. When she looked in the rearview mirror, however, she saw the stone faces of the residents. They never moved. They were statues.

Her heart beat faster which caused her baby to stir in the womb so she ran her hand across her belly again. Nelson removed the shotgun from the rack at the back of the truck and held it up high while shouting “Ya’ll remember this, huh? I’m sure ya do.” Mary closed her eyes in fear of what could happen next. Her baby boy kicking in the womb doubled those fears and she prayed to God that, whatever happened to her and Nelson, little Farrell would be safe. Nelson angrily put the shotgun in the bed of the truck and continued shouting at the unresponsive mob. Why didn’t they say anything? It would somehow be less terrifying if they began shouting back and making threats because at least there would be some human emotion to be found in that. A few more seconds passed and she could hear Nelson shout “I own this town!” before the driver side door flew open. Nelson was a large man and when he hopped in the cab, the truck shook. He angrily slammed the door shut and began fumbling with the lighter and pack of cigarettes in his pocket. He was angry but the clumsiness of his actions also let Mary know he was nervous. The anger was normal. The fear wasn’t. He finally managed to press a cigarette between his lips as he mumbled to himself, “Stupid sons a’ bitches,” his hands trembled slightly as he began to light it, “I ain’t scared a’ nobody.”

A thunderclap exploded in Mary’s ear and the cab was instantly filled with flying glass and a spray of blood that painted the windshield. She screamed, although the ringing in her ear muffled much of the sound. Nelson fell against the steering wheel, blood spilling out of his mouth as well as the gapping exit wound through his left side. His shirt was now caked in blood and the back window was mostly gone. She continued to scream hysterically as she watched him scramble for something under his seat (she would later be reminded of the pistol he kept hidden there) and this would be the last time she saw him.

The passenger door flew open and hands snatched her out of the truck. Two residents turned her away and began to drag her to the bank next to the bar. She tried to pull away and the baby boy in her womb began to kick as if mimicking Mary’s useless attempts to escape. Behind her, she heard another gun shot despite the ringing in her ear and for a second, wondered if they shot her as well. It would later be confirmed that someone had found the pistol under Nelson’s seat and finished the job by shooting him point-blank in the head. The residents put her on the floor of the bank and locked the door, blocking her view of whoever killed Nelson, not that she would have had a good look considering her vision was clouded by tears.

A moment later, the residents quickly disappeared and left her sobbing in the empty room. When she managed to find the courage to look outside, the streets were empty and even though her hearing had returned, it was deathly quiet. Nearby, their truck sat in a parking lot, covered in blood with a dead body partially hanging out the passenger side.

Present Day…

Farrell Creed walked through the Winghaven Museum and passed the two-story suit of armor that resembled a giant, steam-powered robot. In front of the armor, there was a plaque that read: Heinrich Mason’s Locomotive Man (Creed and most Winghaven locals knew it was just a replica). Next, there was a glass case which held a copper statue of a mustached man. Aside from the life-like features, the statue was constructed to be moved and posed to mimic full, human articulation which placed it squarely in the realm of the Uncanny Valley. This was Heinrich Mason’s “robot statue” of himself which he made during his stay in an asylum. As Creed passed, he jokingly greeted it, “Looking good, Henry.”

Shortly after the Resurgence, he and Alysa Saraki were invited to Boston to join Ryan Bennings’ new team, The Commission. He convinced Alysa to join and returned to Winghaven. Since then, Cassandra took up most of his time. As she put it “We’re gonna be having I’m-Glad-You’re-Alive-Sex for a while before you get back to work”, which Creed happily obliged.

Even though he was still on vacation, he was called by the museum’s curator, Gus Davidson who was an elderly African American man that set up the museum in the 70s, initially as a roadside attraction. Gus had something to show him and since Creed gave tours through the museum and helped out from time-to-time, he was happy to make a quick visit to see the new addition.

“Here’s what I wanted you to see before I put it on display,” Gus opened the small box on the counter, revealing a golden bracelet, “Look familiar?”

“Looks like a bracelet,” Creed peered closer, “What am I missing?”

“A construction worker found it downtown where you and that Saraki girl fought the alien.”

“This is one of her braclets?,” Creed asked, “The government took the body, didn’t they?”

“Yeah, but this must have fallen off. The boys are still repairing the street out there and they sent this my way. I’m gonna put it on display once all this Resurgence nonsense dies down so nobody will give me shit.”

“You’re gonna be holding on to that thing for a while. I don’t think things are gonna calm down anytime soon.”

“Speaking of holding on to things… There’s something else I gotta show ya. Something I’ve been holding on to for a long while. You’ve read Heinrich Mason’s journal, right?”

“Sure.”

“You remember when he wrote about the -?”

At that moment, they heard a familiar voice from across the room, “Look who it is,” Chief Meyer stepped up to the counter and crossed his arms while eyeing Creed, “The man who surrendered Rex Robinson to the aliens.”

“What makes you think I had anything to do with that?,” Creed sneered. While he was instrumental in capturing Rex and turning him over to the U’ntari, he wasn’t going to give Meyer the satisfaction of being even partially correct.

“All I know is some dude with wings says he’s an angel and sends you and Saraki to fight aliens and next thing I hear, some of ya’ll got the idea to just hand Rex over because supposedly the whole thing with the aliens was his fault somehow.”

“Did you come into my museum just to harass one of my tour guides?,” Gus barked.

“That’s one way of putting it,” Meyer motioned toward the door, “I saw Creed’s motorcycle out front and came in to chat,” he turned to Creed, “We got some lady calling us for the past few days. Her girl went missing and she called you and left a message but since you weren’t at your office, she came directly to us.”

“Looks like you picked up a case.”

“Nope. She wouldn’t listen to us. Wouldn’t even say her name. She only wanted you. The only reason she stopped by is to ask where you were.”

“Why me?”

“I guess you’ll have to ask her. Like I said, she left a message for ya.”

Creed scratched his beard, “I’ll get back to the office and check my messages, then. That all ya got to say?”

“One more thing you might wanna know about her,” Meyer almost seemed to enjoy saying the next part, “She said she lived over in Widow Springs. Ever take a case there?”

Creed spent his entire life avoiding Widow Springs. After his father was killed, his pregnant mother left almost immediately and moved to Winghaven where he was born. She hoped there would be a new start in “the city” but Nelson Creed’s name followed them. It had been many years since his death and the people who were once terrorized by Nelson had either passed away or were too old to be a threat but Creed felt it appropriate to avoid the little town all together. People in Winghaven gave him enough problems, which eventually led to his first confrontation with a Skinwalker, so he could only imagine what sort of trouble he would find in Widow Springs. It was very suspicious that anyone from that town would go to Winghaven looking for him. The town was small enough that it didn’t even have a police force and while mistrust of Winghaven police ran rampant there, surely another private investigator could have been hired from any number of towns nearby. There were many questions that needed answers and he knew it wouldn’t be easy to get them. He wished his vacation could last at least a month due to the craziness of the Resurgence but he wasn’t so fortunate.

“No rest for the wicked,” he thought to himself.

Continued…