The Call
King’s College, Chau Chun Chung, Fiction: Group 4
H
ere I was, lying on the piping hot Gobi Desert under the scorching sun. Squinting, I
took out my water bottle, shook it and observed the way water swirled and twisted
under the blinding light.
My search began in early June.
I was a supernatural investigator, my job involved a series of dangerous encounters with
mythological creatures. It wasn’t recognized by most civilized nations but our presence had
already invaded every single corner of the world. We were trained by masters of the last
generation, when the old ones deceased, we should take their places as new investigators.
Our monthly income was huge. In my opinion, city life was starting to drive people crazy. As
our will became weak, monsters began to find their ways into our heads. People were willing to pay
a high price for our service. Yet, what we were seeking, our final destination, was never that simple.
As my master always said, “Money’s the way, home’s still beyond that.”
Instead of telling you how brave I was dealing with those phantoms and vampires, I would
say it’s a rather tiring job. It’s a crazy world, filled with monsters and demons one could barely
imagine. It was early April when my partner, Jason received a call. I wasn’t good at memorizing
conversations as monsters didn’t really talk much. However, from certain routine responses given
by Jason, I knew it was a tough case, something about a desert.
I could never forget how excited he was when he left in a hurry, only leaving a note briefly
notifying me about his plan. To my astonishment, he was heading to the Gobi Desert, looking for
lost civilians who were said to be abducted by demonic wolves.
He last contacted me in late April telling me he was about to witness something that would
change his life forever. I recognized that quaver in his voice, I knew something was wrong, but it was
not until early June that I decided to go look for him, after he had gone missing for over a month.
As usual, I did some research before the search. Despite all those details about the weather,
the local culture… I found something worth a note. It was almost July 18th, “The Call” of the
Mongolians. They believed it was the day when the great emperor of the once glorious Mongolian
Empire resurrects from his grave to take vengeance for his defeat in 1368. However, apart from
this legend which was rarely known by people, I could dig out no more information about the
missing of my partner.
I packed a fair amount of food and water, a few flying blades for self-defense, numerous types
of coins for trading with different parties. Tracking devices, such as the GPS, radio wave detector
and life sensor were all ready. Above all, I brought my little wizardry guide, it always saved my
life when situation became too desperate. The bad news was, it would almost cost every bit of
energy left inside my body for a single spell.
I arrived a desolate town at the edge of the Gobi Desert at dawn. The town was habited by a
bunch of locals who bartered for resources with passing traders. Their faces were tanned under
the strong sun light. Their eyes reflected an eerie glow of suspicion. It should not be a surprise,
after harassment from the northern tribes for almost two thousand years…
The houses were all constructed with wood which made this place even more dilapidated. I saw
flocks of camels in half-collapsed stables, looking aimlessly towards me. I knew it would be a good
