Cars are pretty powerful.
They're measured by horsepower, which is pretty self-explanatory. The average horsepower in a car is about 110, but it really just depends on the size of the engine and whether or not the company is willing to shell out the dough for high-class materials.
So say, a car rams into you at 50-60 miles an hour. Depending on the material of the car, the worst it could do is dent it. The worst it could do is obvious. Death.
Considering that my car was a Volkswagen Beetle from the 50s, and the car that just 'happened' to run into me was a very nice quality limo, I'm pretty sure I got the short end of the stick (ah ha ha).
I noticed it just a heartbeat before it could smack into the front of the car. I turned the Beetle sharply to the left so it would dent the right door instead of my face.
Inertia from the crash knocked me left and the window smacked said side of my face. Everything went blurry. It felt like stepping off those tea cups from Disneyland, only a thousand times worse. I shook my head, trying to get it clear. It did, gradually, but not early enough. That damned limo got away before I could catch its license plate. The only thing that I caught was that the limo was dark purple and fast.
I felt a breeze and looked at the right of my car. It. Was. Ruined. The bastard had wrecked my car! My thoughts went to my poor anorexic wallet. Yeah, it'll be a while before I could afford to fix that door. And that was only a little of what I actually felt.
Mostly, I was furious at how easily I was almost killed. It was also extremely sobering. I know that I'm human like everyone else, but my magic always had my back. Then again, who had my magic's back?
That would be me. I sighed, and then reviewed the damage. The best I could do is to keep driving to my apartment.
Keep swimming forward. That's me.
I re-started the engine, thanking that the people of the 50's made their engines in the back of the car. I kept a better eye at suspicious looking limos and cars. The hit to the head affected me more than I thought though, so as long as the jerks were spying on me with elephants and trumpets, I was a-okay.
The rest of the ride passed without incident, something that I was extremely grateful for. I finally made it to my apartment and waddled out of the car, starting toward the door of my apartment and fumbling for my keys.
I opened the door, and there was my home in all its humbleness. As a wizard, people usually expect us to live in dark towers and huge mansions, maybe even a cave. A wizard like me, (i.e stereotype breaking) just lives in a basement. My apartment is fairly small and has a lot of comfy second-hand furniture. Everything is run without electricity. Magic is convenient for some things, but the random energies that zap around us wizards just naturally hex all the modern electronics. That means that I live without water boilers, computers, and even light bulbs. Yes, you youngsters, it is possible to live without anything electric. Just not very convenient.
As per usual, my bobcat tackled my legs and almost succeeded in knocking me flat on the floor. I really needed some Tylenol for my head. Mister the Bobcat rubbed his head on my legs, started purring, then evidently deciding that he showed me his daily quota of affection, strutted pompously onto the streets like he owned them. He probably thought he did.
Rubbing my head, I grabbed some Tylenol and some water, opened up my trap door, and clambered down a ladder to my lab/subbasement.
It was a fairly big place and was absolutely stacked with magical wizardly stuff, like depleted uranium. There were tables and a bookshelf. On top of the bookshelf, there was a skull bleached white with age, surrounded by trashy 'best-seller' romance novels. No, I don't read them, the talking skull does.
"Wake up, Bonehead," I called.
Orange lights flickered on inside the eyeholes of the skull. "Bonehead? Seriously? You do know that you're one too, right?"
I scowled irritatedly. I fell into that one pretty easily. "I have another case, so I need to ask some questions."
"Is it about demon squirrels again?" he started snickering.
"No, and it's not about haunted mansions either. Or about flying carpets. It's –"
"About enhancing potions!" Bob said with an expression that would make someone wonder what exactly he meant. That's pretty impressive, considering that bone (as far as I'm aware of) doesn't move, flex, or bend.
"No. Come on, Bob. Seriously, let's focus."
"I'm just suggesting," he said in his 'reasonable' tone of voice. "But if you sell that stuff, we're going be responsible for a lot of stacked ladies." He leered at one book cover of a naked woman strategically covered with leaves. That had gotten me a lot of weird looks at the bookstore. "Besides, you'll make the entire population of Earth happier."
"Bob, magic isn't used for stuff like that. Besides, I don't want to fall off the deep end with it." I cleared my throat. "Anyways, case. Money, remember?"
Bob snorted. Without a throat or a nose. I am always surprised by that. "You humans and money. I swear, you would risk your life and existence for it. 'Money makes the world go 'round' is the saying, isn't it?"
"I don't know about making the world go around, but it's one of the reasons why we aren't on the streets." I shrugged. "But it's fine. You won't be on the streets. You'll only be in a deep dark well." I started grinning.
"Oh, playing it dirty. Fine. What do you want to know?"
"The case I'm working on right now has seven kids missing. It just seems like they vanished out of their beds. This was in the house, past the threshold. What's powerful enough that it can get past a threshold and can make little kids vanish without a trace?"
Bob paused to think on that one. "Think about it this way. Did the kiddies accidentally invite a faerie in? Did they willingly go with the faerie when they offered sweets and cookies?" he pursed his mouth… hole. "Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if the faerie held up a sign and said: 'Welcome to the Dark Side, we have cookies.'"
"So you think that the kids were lured away with Dark Side Cookies?" I asked. "I just hope they don't go Forceful on me when they get drunk with it." My internal hamster wheel started running. "Is it a childsnatcher?"
Bob gave me a droll stare. "Seven children missing and you just realize? No Harry, it's a cake maker that's working with Santa Claus for the winter season!"
I scowled and put the Tylenol pills into the glass of water that I brought down. I chugged it down and my headache slowly went from "eight seconds from unconsciousness" (with assistance from your friendly neighboorhood talking skull) to 'under manageable levels of pain tolerance'.
"Speaking of which, why do you have that big lump on your head, Harry?" Bob asked.
"Ugh, it turned into a lump?" I made a face. "I got into a car crash with a limo."
"I don't think it made a difference to your hard head. When it comes to it, you got an adamantium upgrade somewhere along the line." he said completely straight-faced. Which was, you know, kind of typical for a skull.
"Glad I did, otherwise I would've died a long time ago." I glanced in the general direction of my car. "Speaking of dying, the limo mauled the right side of the Beetle. You don't happen to have any spare change lying around, do you?"
"Actually, yeah." His eyelights flashed bright enough to point towards a nickel. "I'm sure Mike'll love that." He went back to sniggering.
"Thanks Bob, I appreciate it," I said sarcastically.
I sighed, and went up to pick up the change, 'cause let's face it, everyone likes spare change. I went back up the trapdoor. The poor little hamster in my head started spinning its wheel and wondered which faeries were infamous childsnatchers. I went through things from Wildfae to Summerfae to Winterfae. I shook my head. There were way too many suspects.
Then the hamster ran fast enough for there to be a dim light in the bulb. Duh, I should've thought about that before.
I went out the door and grabbed my staff, my blasting rod and some chalk. I needed to ask Murphy a question about where the missing children's parents lived.
After that, I'll do what I did best.
A/N: Yes, another cliffhanger. I am merciless XD *Mwa ha ha ha ha...* How do you guys think it is? Reviews please. I like to see peoples' reactions, be they good or bad. Once again, as a procrastinator, I won't have a clear update schedule. So expect some at random times, unless you fancy math people can work out a complex equation in which it can tell whenever someone updates something. In which case, you will be rich if you sell it. It will be abused world-wide. Everyone'll use it for everything. XD