by Jason Fuquea
I thought about having children once, but realized I’d want the child to have a father I trusted. Me finding someone I trusted as much as myself with a child will be impossible. I put the thought of having children out of my head long ago. But no doubt children are the best of us and are precious.
I stopped about halfway down the glass wall looking in. Immediately all the children stopped crying in consensus. The ones that could, look directly at the glass, now frozen. It was a uniform response; the children knew something was wrong.
“Was there a Werewolf near?” I thought. I glanced around and couldn’t see or smell anything out of place. “What’s going on in here?” I’m confused. A nurse holding a child in her arms slowly looked up. She froze seeing me.
Understanding now registered with me. “Oh no.” I sighed. It was me that caused the babies to go silent. Brokenhearted, I turned and left for the elevators. I wiped the bloody tears from my face with the back of my hand, and entered the elevator. I took it up to the sixth floor, composing myself.
The sixth floor is critical care. Maybe I will find someone who survived a vamp attack here to talk with. I walked down the corridor and saw a sign that read, “Special Critical Care Unit.” I walked through the door and past the plastic shielding and suddenly was overwhelmed with a strong Vampire blood scent.
Some patients had Vampire blood being given intravenously to them. Others are being operated on in special chambers. I can faintly make out a magic signature on a patient so this means spells are being used on the downtrodden. Witches must be helping save the lives of those damaged by Vampires and Werewolves in here.
Continuing to walk down the SCCU, I found a patient room with a little boy lying in a bed. He couldn’t have been older than 11 years old and had one blue and one green eye. He was in perfect health except for a gnarled arm. It’s bandaged up and bleeding through the dressing.
Walking in, I said, “May I sit with you? I’m not a nurse or doctor, I just want to know what happened.”
The boy shrugged and said, “I was outside playing basketball late. The streetlights were on, but I was having a good time and didn’t notice how dark it was. I also didn’t notice it was a full moon either, and Mom said I could never be outside late if we had a full moon.
“A big dog thing came and grabbed me by the arm and shook me. Mom said it was a dog, but I think it was a Werewolf. I blacked out and woke up here this morning.”
“Why are your eyes all funny looking, did something bite you too?” he asked me.
“I just have crazy eyes,” I replied, smiling. “My name is Alice, thank you for talking to me.” The boy’s eyes followed me as I stood and walked out of the room, my eyes full of tears again.
I walked to the elevator and when the doors opened, I got in. Pressing the down button my eyes bled freely. As the river of red tears fell from my swirling amber eyes, I thought, “Why in the hell is this happening, God? Children being hurt by Werewolves and wild ass Vampires that ‘you made’ are killing and drinking whomever, poisoning them with their blood. Why don’t you do a damn thing about it all?” I cried.
“How can I do anything…” I said looking down at the holes in my jeans. I pressed my back to the elevator and slid down, sitting on the floor I put my head on my knees. Time froze.
I could not move or speak. Lilith whispered in her soft sinister voice, “I’m so sorry, Alice. I know this may not make much sense to you, but I feel responsible for what you’re going through...
“Let me explain, you see, Demons like me can see through the lining of life where souls live, the actual dividing fabric that protects your soul from us and the place we are imprisoned.
“Demons are allowed to see life, to stay forever reminded of what we gave up by doing the horrific deeds we committed. Alone, true Demons like me cannot leave our prison, it is not within our abilities as we cannot alter the fabric between. We may only watch. Our minions, soulless creatures that Demons’ control cannot harm a soul but can cross through the fabric temporarily. These are the things priests exercise, Witches fight, and religious fanatics call Demons.
“I was naturally drawn to your boundless suffering when your soul cracked the first time. I was watching when both you at eight years old and your mother died during the outcome of the winter storm. I saw the damage done to the life fabric woven around you when you came back alone, without your mom. Your soul was hurt and nothing in an earthly life can heal a damaged soul.
“The struggle after losing your Nanna was devastating, how you were made to leave her house with nothing was monstrous. I watched as you walked away from her house alone and helpless only to live in shelters, sometimes starving and when it got bad letting men abuse you just to survive.
“I know how you wanted to die and be done with it all as the hollow solitude was tearing you apart. But, in the end, you would not take your own life. Not taking your own life when so many others would have is why I’m here with you now.
“Alice, everything broken is around you. You are not the broken thing around everything else. Your soul is in pain and has summoned only those things broken to you while pushing what’s left away. You knew nothing would ever work out for you, just didn’t know why. Did you think it was all just by coincidence?
“Once your body started to die, your soul weakened, and at that moment, one good thing came to you unaffected by the push and pull. It was Buddy. Buddy was your medicine. He could not heal your soul but gave you a reason to keep going, to trudge through it all.
“I waited and watched knowing you were special. Then when you died the second time and your soul cracked again, this time it was large enough for a strong Demon, like me, maybe the strongest of them all, to get through the slit in the fabric just as you died.
“I wanted to help hold your soul together, not hurt or control you. You were dying, rotting, and almost dead. I wanted to repent for all that I have done in order to give you completeness, so I tried.
“I had hoped to escape my prison and fill the gap in your soul, taking us both on, but your heartbeat brought us both back. You started to heal, and I was still with you. I can feel my soul binding with yours, and very soon I will be no more. I will become part of you, strengthening you until your journey is over. I don’t know what this means for me, if I will forever be lost, or if one day God will separate us so I can stand before him asking for forgiveness, but it doesn’t matter. We are both about to change.”
Reality shifted as Lilith’s power welled up within me. I was here and not here, the elevator faded away.
I was sitting on what looked like a slab of pure obsidian on a black throne carved with silver symbols and leaking what looked like blood. Below the throne, large obsidian stairs curved down an endless pathway parted by a mountain of chained and impelled creatures on either side. Looking across the vastness I can see a multitude of creatures continuing endlessly. The creatures moved and laughed, growled and moaned in an eerie rhythm.
Walking up the carved stairs toward me I see a beautiful woman about six feet tall. She’s wearing a silky red dress and has pitch-black hair that falls in sheets like mine down to her knees. Her eyes are also like my eyes almost identical, except her eyes are white, not amber. Her skin is smooth and beautiful, a buttery almond color.
As she got closer, I could see her blackthorn tiara. She walked up to me and kneeled. “Alice, you’re a wonderful woman and I’m so proud to be with you. It’s almost time.” I’m speechless and can think of no word’s worth saying, so I nodded instead. She raised a hand, and immediately everything was silent.
Lilith spoke, screaming with a Demonic chorus, “I, Lilith, Demonic Queen of the Damned and Ruler of the Underworld give myself to you completely, reinforcing your soul, bracing your resistance, enlisting the legions to your stand.
Final judgment is yours, without compromise. The underworld will do your bidding, forever in your absol
ute service and obedience. The underworld opens itself to you and may be called upon as yours.
She bowed then turned her hand palm up inserting a fingernail in her wrist. She pulled her nail forward and blood spilled from her arm, “Please drink,” she said seductively.
I stood and walked over to her taking her wrist and pulling it to my mouth. I bit down and drank, swallowing mouthful after mouthful of her thick liquid. It was sweet and otherworldly. After a few moments of drinking, I pulled my head back and looked her in the eyes. She smiled at me once again.
“Time to go,” she said, taking my arm. She kissed me on my bloody lips, “Bye Alice.” My eyes refocused slowly, involuntarily, and the elevator came back into view.
Chapter 11
Werewolf Surprise
I left the hospital a little shaken but understanding my purpose better. I can feel Lilith melding with the parts of me that are broken and now know why God has let me come back from death twice to make me into whatever I am now.
“I think God needed to balance out the equation. An Angel could not be used, as judgments would need to be made, and Angels know only absolute right and wrong. I couldn’t be made a Vampire as they are sinister by nature living off blood and having a disposition for all things carnal, although I’m sure a few good ones are around.
“Werewolves and Witches would need numbers to handle the task and were too delicate when compared to the things that go bump in the night. Demons, the most powerful of the creatures were mischievous and self-centered not to be trusted and bound in the underworld. But me, whatever I truly am now can balance the scales,” I rationalized while walking.
Dusk in New Orleans never gets old. I can hear the rumble of thunder in the air and smell the rain coming. Flashes of dry lightning preface the coming storm, the wind slightly nodding the hanging tapestries that dangle around the old buildings. A little farther away in the distance a windchime echoes a simple melody sounding the storm to come.
I need to go back and visit John Maddox at the French Quarter Mansion again, but It’s still a little early. The lowest level of the French Quarter Mansion doesn’t get started until its good and dark.
It’s not too early to walk down Decatur Street enjoying the evening and I have a little time to spare. I walked down Decatur Street and brought Buddy more dumpster loot then said hi to Jane, and made my way out again.
“I wonder what Marcus and Victoria are doing this fine night,” I thought. I continued east on Decatur until passing Jackson Square and turning left on Madison. Once the beautiful garden encased by an iron fence, and flanked on all sides by Victorian houses became visible, I knew I was in the right place.
The gate is locked, but that didn’t bother me, not anymore. I simply pulled down on the flimsy lock while pushing the door open with my thigh, all in one effortless motion.
The camera hadn’t been replaced yet, at least I couldn’t see a new one if it was, and since there aren’t any pieces on the ground, I guess they’re working on it. Strolling through the garden as if I owned it anyone watching via hidden camera or hired look-out would see me.
I smelled the flowers and admired the garden, then after a few moments, someone making rounds stopped, spotting me. “I was very hard to miss.”
The familiar clicking of a comms unit and acknowledgment of someone in the garden was communicated. These hired military types are all the same, trained but clueless.
“Get the hell out of here, Alice,” Victoria yelled from the second-floor landing above the basement door. She was wearing a sheer pink spring dress and heels.
“How’s that dog of yours Marcus doing?” I chuckled.
“He’s fine and not a damn dog,” she steamed. “Now go unless you need something,” She finished quickly.
“I’ll have to bring your dress back later, I kind of spilled something on it,” I told Victoria. I could see her eyes rolling from here. “Could I have a word with Sir Chester, please?” I asked nicely. Victoria disappeared into the house and about two minutes later Chester came out of the basement.
“Alice, what a wonderful surprise, I’m afraid Victoria isn’t agreeable tonight.”
“If ever,” I thought. “Chester I’m going back to the French Quarter Mansion. Do you know who runs it?”
“I’m sorry my lady, I do not. It is sanctioned by Dominus Strum, the head Vampire, that’s all I know,” he said.
“Chester stop telling her our business, we don’t know her. We are all going to be killed if anyone finds out.” I could hear Victoria yelling at Chester from inside the basement.
“Thank you, Chester.” I gave him a slight bow and began walking out of the garden and toward the French Quarter Mansion.
It was still a little early, so I need to find something to do. “I could go get coffee,” I thought. “Normal people do that right?” I made my way over a few blocks to the Royal, a quick service gastropub serving fast eats and every kind of drink imaginable. “Shit, I don’t have any money.” I realized the flaw in my plan. “Well, I guess its piss tasting water for me.”
I walked in and took a seat on the far right of the seven solid wood bar height chairs nestled up close to a ten-foot-long bar that was waiting on me. The wall behind the counter has every liquor known to man resting alongside a sixty-inch flat screen.
Waitresses buzzed all around delivering food and mixed drinks inside the small but happening eatery and even outside in the overflow seating under six raised garage doors.
It’s a friendly place with spirited conversations and a hefty supply of Witches. Just like Vampires Witches have their own hangouts it seems, and I would much rather be up here with the Witches than below ground with the vamps.
Now that I can see magic and knew what to look for it was as apparent as someone wearing sunglasses or having pink hair when using it. I didn’t have to be a very good detective just had to pay attention. Different magics have different scents and colors. When destroyed or changed, magic burns and smells like melting tires. “Normally I see the truths behind the magic. If someone is trying to disguise themselves for example, I see a glimmer of magic and the original form, not just the magic and the false persona. In Adventure Travelers I could see the haze around Amanda, but could still see her,” I thought interestingly.
“What can I get you?” the very human bartender asked, without looking at me. He was really into the ballgame playing on the screen behind the bar.
“Just a water please, sugar,” I said in my raspy voice. He filled up a glass, without looking at me, and placed it on the bar almost spilling it. “Apparently one of the most important moments in sports history is playing out in front of me.” I sighed.
Sitting here I feel a little out of place. My clothes are not nice like the ones these folks are wearing, I needed an upgrade. “I wonder if there’s a seamstress open tonight?”
Sipping my piss tasting water I made a face and sat it back down. I think I’m better suited to just sit in the lobby of the French Quarter Mansion or stake out the bar stairs.
I pushed my chair away from the counter and got up. This is the first time the bartender really noticed me. I nodded and he looked shocked. I walked out an open garage door and toward the French Quarter Mansion.
Walking I realized how much I had grown to love this town, even with all the stuff that’s going on, it wasn’t a bad place. I really needed to get myself together, find a better place to stay then a blood bank and get some new clothes, especially since I’m not going to be dead anytime soon.
I walk down the darkest alleys, the ones with no light because I didn’t need light anymore. I was home just as much in total darkness as in the late afternoon sun.
I walked a few more feet and could hear two sets of shoes coming from behind me. I didn’t turn around; I didn’t want to scare them away. I walked, slightly slower with my hands in my pockets hearing a click.
The click is the sound of a safety being turned off. “Interesting,” I thought. Considering my options. I could act the helpless damsel in distress, or I could torture these two, decisions, decisions. I went with helpless, walking slightly faster to let my assailants know I am on to them. They both responded by doubling my speed. A few seconds later a man yelled, “Stop or I’ll shoot you in the back of the head.” I stopped and turned around, hands still in my pockets.
“Please don’t shoot me. What do you want?” I said.
“We’re here to give you a message from Marcus. Leave town tonight and never come back.” The man threw a rolled band of cash at me. “This should cover whatever it costs to get you moving.”
I caught it and unrolled the wad of cash. It looked to be about eight-hundred dollars. “Thanks for the cash, boys, but I think I’m going to stay. I especially like the quaint gardens; you can tell Marcus what I said.” The two men were in front of me now, blocking my path like bullies getting ready to steal my lunch money.
The one on my left spoke, “I don’t think you understand, you’re leaving now or a bullet is going between those freaky eyes.”
I waited for a few seconds then said, “Why are you two doing this? Surely it’s not for the money? Does Marcus have a knife to your children’s throats? Is he endlessly raping your wives until you do what he’s making you do? Please tell me you have no choice in the matter.”
“It’s none of your damn business.” The one on the left said with his gun still pointed at me. He’s tall and lanky, wearing biker boots and a leather jacket. His friend is also tall, sporting about the same look. My guess is both are hired guns and Marcus didn’t fill them in on the details.
I turned away from the two blocking my path and walked toward the French Quarter Mansion again. The man with the gun yelled, “You’re about to die, I don’t mind shooting a freak in the back of the head.” I continued walking unafraid.