The prompt: lintels
The others joined April at the entrance to the tent and watched as the strange comet again appeared in the sky.
“They are not supposed to do that,”Illya said.”Comets do not just appear like that. It should follow a trajectory…”
“Maybe it was hidden by a cloud,” said.
“The sky is crystal clear darling; look at all those stars,” Dancer said.
"Point taken, luv." Mark blushed ever so slightly.
The comet now seemed to be in a fixed position above the henge.
“This is not scientifically possible,” Kuryakin said.
“Is anything that’s happened so far been plausible tovarisch?” Napoleon asked.
Something else began to happen above Stonehenge, coming down into the center a concentrated column of light appeared, undulating and pulsating; the source of it was unidentifiable.
Seconds later the mysterious fog rolled in, filling the henge; the only thing visible now were the lintels above the sarsen stones.
Out of the mist, white robed figures appeared, but this time there was chanting that echoed in the air. The language was unknown to Kuryakin and the others, though Ellery thought she could hear a few words that reminded her of ancient Welsh.
There was a sudden scream and everyone turned away from the tent opening. The doctor stood there, a look of pure horror in her eyes.
Holding Napoleon in an ethereal grasp what a white robed figure, if you could call it that as there were no definable features.
In its other hand was a curved dagger, poised to slash Solo’s throat.
Kuryakin was the first to draw his weapon and fire, hitting the ghostly figure with a sleep dart. Dancer, Slate, Kittridge and the others quickly followed suit. All hitting the would-be attacker as well.
That many sleep darts would put whoever it was out for quite a long time, maybe too long. There was no way they could interrogate him until he regained consciousness.
The figure dropped to the ground, releasing its grip on the American, and the dagger fell with a dull clatter.
Illya reached his partner first, helping Napoleon to his feet as being released so suddenly threw him off balance and he too fell to the floor.
“Are you all right?”
Napoleon reached to his throat and his fingertips came back bloodied.
“I think so.”
The Russian immediately pulled out a handkerchief and put pressure on the wound.
“Hey is that clean?”
“Tsk, would I put a used handkerchief on an open wound?”
“No I suppose not, but I figured it wouldn’t hurt to ask.”
Illya lifted the cloth, checking the injury. “It is not deep, but we should sanitize it. Ellery, do you have rubbing alcohol?”
The doctor was in a momentary state of shock. “What?”
She stood there, wide-eyed.
“Ellery, rubbing alcohol please?” Illya repeated himself.
“Umm, yes... it’s over... there,” she pointed to a shelf.
“Illya I’ll get it,”April said. She quickly retrieved a glass bottle and took the handkerchief, intending to see to Napoleon’s wound.
She poured alcohol on the cloth and pressed against Solo’s neck.
“Owwww!” He hissed.
“Oh be quiet you baby.”
Kuryakin’s attention was now drawn to the assailant but as he, Mark and Kit moved the white robe, there was no one in it. It was completely empty.
Ellery had finally come back to her senses and picked up the bronze dagger.
“If I didn’t know any better, I would say this is a genuine Neolithic era knife. The Blade is hand cast and forged from copper, hammer hardened, both sides of the blade are quite sharp. The wood handle looks to be made from cherry and is fixed with what appears to be birch pitch bound with leather
“Crikey,” Kit blurted out.”They made knives like this back then?”
“Yes they did and much more,”Ellery said.
“Excuse me,” one of the others interrupted. “That fog and the comet are gone. It’s as if neither were ever here.”
“Hey, where’s Agent Dougherty?” Kit suddenly asked. He quickly looked about, not seeing his man.
“Kevin? Kevin Dougherty?” He called out.
“Would there be another Kevin here,” Illya asked with just a bit of sarcasm in his voice.
Carrying the lanterns with them, they searched outside the tent for the missing man but there was no sign of him.
“I have a bad feeling about this,” Napoleon said. He indicated it would be best to search near the henge where the other bodies had been found.
There they located Dougherty laying on the ground, his throat slit like the other victims, though he was still dressed in his modern day clothing. The circle of corpses was almost complete, presumably it would be before the sunrise of the solstice. That meant one of them might be the next victim...
“So do you think they took him because we thwarted Napoleon having his throat cut?” Mark asked.
“One can only assume,” Illya mumbled. He glanced over to his partner who was still holding the handkerchief to his throat, and watched as Napoleon bit his lower lip.
The light from the lanterns cast an eerie glow on the scene, making it appear even more gruesome...