by Giles Ekins
Selene raises her head to watch, licking her lips, her tongue flickering in and out of her mouth like a serpent, intense, her eyes bright and shining. She then unfastens his shirt, baring his chest. Standing beside the Chesterfield, Tchort watches the three of them, an ironic smile playing across his face, as if amused by the inexorable gullibility of man, so easily led by his cock, it has always been thus, he thinks, an immutable truth ever since the fall of Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden. One of my better days, but I was not a serpent, never a serpent, that is a gross calumny, a lie.
Charlie’s climax is not long in coming, never with the women he has known has he ever experienced such intensity of feeling, he bucks and groans deep as his orgasm sweeps over him, racking him in pleasure from the tips of toes to the crown of his head, as though his body is being torn apart by sheer ecstasy. As he judders into his climax, Lilith bends down and bites him on the chest, just above his right nipple, bringing blood but he barely registers the pain, such is the intensity of his orgasm. She then lightly kisses his on the lips. A trickle of his own blood runs down his chin.
Lilith stands up and lets her skirts drop again and then spits out a gobbet of flesh bitten from his chest. She looks down at Charlie, lying there supine, eyes closed, coming down from his orgasmic high. and her lips curl in contempt, her eyes flash and for a second, the briefest of split seconds, her violet eyes turn yellow, her round pupils now a black vertical slit, like that of a cobra. Or of a creature of nightmare from the deepest, darkest, depths of Hell.
FIFTEEN
Michael O’Daly’s Magic Lantern, immediately afterwards
So, what happens now, I wait ‘til nightfall and develop a sudden aversion to garlic?
CHARLIE SITS UP AND RE-FASTENS HIS TROUSERS, deeply annoyed with himself over his lack of self-control, his dearth of will power or resistance. His shirt remains open, the bite to his chest still oozing blood but he seems not to notice, he slumps forward, drained, ashamed, fearful, deeply apprehensive as to what he has done. And what was to follow, he has just fucked, or rather been fucked by one of Satan’s acolytes. Surely retribution must follow.
His heart is beating a fierce tattoo, the icy pit that is his stomach roils and twists, and the acidic taste of bile and blood is a foul coating to his tongue and teeth. He feels the blood trickle on his chin and wipes it off with the back of his hand. He looks up. Tchort, Lilith and Selene stand around in a semi-circle, looking down at him; he scans them from face to face, looking to see, to see what? Revenge, anger, pity, hate, revulsion, contempt? He looks to Tchort, Selene, then Lilith, back to Tchort, to Selene and again to Lilith, the contemptuous sneer of earlier now gone, her face showing only concern and friendliness.
‘You’re one of us now, Charlie, one of us forever.’ she says, her voice barely above a whisper, giving him a reassuring smile, showing a set of full white teeth, nary a fang to be seen.
Charlie slumps back in shock, as if slapped and closes his eyes as the cold-dread surges through his veins in icy torrents. ‘Fuck shit, one of us forever, shit ,shit shit, shit!’ He looks up at them again, his heart bitter with anguish, ‘What, like a fucking vampire, you mean?’ leaning forward, putting his head in hands, ‘So, what happens now, I wait ‘til nightfall and develop a sudden aversion to garlic?’ unable, even in his rampant icy fear, resist the stupid comment.
‘Whatever you wish to happen, Charlie, ‘Tchort answers, ‘it is entirely up to you. We have no hold over you, Lilith meant only that you are one of us in …spirit, you are not bounden to us in any way. You will not turn into a vampyr or any other creature of the night, be it real or imagined. You may walk out of here right now. All that will happen is that you will miss the opportunity of a lifetime.’
‘Aye? This week’s special offer, right?’ he says sarcastically as Selene walks over from the kitchen unit, a mug of coffee held in both hands and offers it to Charlie with a slight bow, like that waitress in the Mount Fuji Japanese restaurant Charlie thinks, looking up to give her a strained smile of thanks. The coffee is strong and black, just as he likes it, the spiraling rising steam heady with the rich smell of Nescafe , too hot to drink at the moment but he finds it reassuring, rejuvenating, comforting but then the insidious thought intrudes into his consciousness , ‘the condemned man drank a hearty up of coffee.
‘This week’s special offer?’ Yes, if you will,’ Tchort responds, ‘But think of it Charlie, this morning you were ready to…make an offer, if I remember your exact words, ‘for the most sensational, headline grabbing, kick ‘em in the crotch illusion ever invented.’ I have that illusion; you have just seen that illusion. It can be yours, Charlie,’ Tchort exhorts, clenching his fist in emphasis. ‘It can be yours! Think of it, can you imagine the impact, the sensation that such an illusion would have. It would be just that…SENSATIONAL, STUPENDOUS. The greatest illusion ever seen, performed by the greatest illusion the world has ever seen. ‘Actually, Tchort smiles to himself, ‘I am the greatest illusionist that the world has ever seen, to the world of today I don’t even exist, ‘You, your name would go down in legend. In legend, Charlie.’ he repeats, his eyes shining with enthusiasm. ‘I can guarantee, absolutely guarantee that your name will go down in history.’
‘Yes, I can see how a trick like that might well go down,’ Charlie concedes reluctantly, doubts still wriggling about in his brain like demented worms, taking a sip at his coffee.
‘Las Vegas! Have you any idea how much a residency at a top Las Vegas hotel would bring, at the Mirage say, or the Luxor, the New York-New York, or the Flamingo. Millions! You could take over from Penn and Teller at the Rio; oust David Copperfield from the MGM Grand, millions and millions of dollar there for the taking.
And I can tell you here and now, that whoever takes this illusion is already guaranteed a slot on national television. Then there is second billing on a nationwide tour with Billy Boy Boston, whomever he might be. Second rate venues most of them it is true but we all have to start somewhere on the long road to success.’
‘Sounds encouraging, but…’ Charlie tries to interject.
‘Wait my friend, there is more, so much more. If that works out, and I am sure it will, it will lead to a residency at Caesar’s Palace in Vegas in just over a year from now. The offer will include start-up money built into the package. And a new van, I know how much you would like a new van. Think of it Charlie. A TV slot. A nationwide tour followed by Las Vegas. Fame Charlie, fame beyond all imagining,’ Tchort‘s raised voice echoing around the workshop in exultation. ‘So my dear Charlie, what do you think? Are you with me; are you at one with us? The world is yours for the asking,’ spreading out his arms like a Gospel preacher
‘Why aye, that sounds just great, fantastic. Amazing. Las Vegas I always dreamed of playing Las Vegas, which illusionist doesn’t? But it’s too good to be true and if something looks as if it‘s too good to be true, it’s too good to be true, full stop. There’s no such thing as a free lunch. No such thing as a free illusion or a free van. I might be stupid, Mr. Tchort, but I’m not that stupid.’
‘The only stupid thing you can do, Charlie, is to walk away and turn down this offer.’ Tchort responded, smiling reassuringly, whilst Lilith and Selene nod in agreement (with Selene’s head remaining securely in place, Charlie notes.)
‘Come on, man, there’s a quid pro quo involved, there’s got to be, nobody gives nothing away for nothing. Not even the mighty Mo Tchort, so tell me exactly what I have to do to get this wonderful, no strings attached I don’t fucking think so, bargain of the week.eh?’ Charlie says, feeling his temper rising, steady, steady, p’raps not a good idea to piss off the Devil. He drains his coffee and gets to his feet, still feeling unsteady, his legs aquiver but he straightens and crosses over to wash out his cup and place it on the draining board, needing the break to try and get his head together. ‘Won’t be a minute, I need the bathroom,’ he adds to try and gain a bit more time.
He urinates, washes his hand and face and feels a bit
better, but still anxiety about the fix he has got himself into gnaws at his guts like a bag of rats. He takes a deep breath, once more into the breach, my friends or should that be once more into my breeches,’ the memory of his coupling with Lilith van Dante lingering still in his veins. Heart hammering, Charlie Chilton goes out to face the Devil again.
SIXTEEN
Michael O’Daly’s Magic Lantern, a short while later
Trapped between the Devil on one side and a vampire on the other, how the fuck do I get myself into these situations? But this one is a first, have to admit that.
AS HE EMERGES FROM THE WASHROOM, Charlie notices that the lights have been dimmed, leaving only the guillotine brightly highlighted, the deadly blade glittering in the bright cold light of the fluorescent fitting overhead.
‘My dear chap, you still look quite pale,’ Tchort says with concern, coming over to Charlie, ‘Come, sit down again over here,’ placing a friendly arm about his shoulders. Lilith also sways over to him; slithers might be a better word, seeming to glide across the floor without apparent movement of her feet, almost reptilian the word which comes to Charlie’s mind, or viperous, as together they lead him over and sit him down on Michaelmas’s Chesterfield, Tchort to his right, Lilith to his left, Charlie intensely aware of her physical present next to him, her perfume, her thighs so close to his and he swallows to relieve his tension. Selene stands before him, once again adopting that demure stance, her hands clasped innocently in front of her, her large grey eyes watching him intently, wide eyed with concern.
‘Charlie, let me explain some things to you, to help clear the confusion and doubts in your mind,’ Tchort said, turning to face him. ‘Do you mind if I ask some questions, personal questions?’
‘No, I guess not,’ but I thought you knew everything anyway.’
‘Are you a practicing Christian, in that you go to church on a regular basis?’
‘No, not so much these days. Though I was in the church choir one time before my voice broke.’ And I realised why the choirmaster wanted some of the boys to remain behind after practice, the dirty fucking pervert, Mister Bates that was his name, forever jiggling his balls through his trouser pockets. Master Bates we called him. Or Jingle-balls.
‘And your wife, she is still your wife is she not, does she still go to church, she’s a Catholic. I believe?’
‘Aye, a bit lapsed, I suppose. She used to go, maybe every month, six weeks or so when we were together, take Communion and the wafer. I don’t know about since.’
‘And she prayed for children did she not?’
‘How the …? Yeah, she did, she wanted kids… we both wanted kids.’
‘And do you have children?’
‘No, no, but you know that already, don’t you?’
‘Perhaps. And when her father was dying from cancer, did she pray for his recovery, light candles for him?’
‘Yeah, of course she did?’
‘And did he recover?’
‘No, of course not, he died. Died nastily!’
‘So all those prayers were a waste of time?’
‘I suppose, but I think she took comfort from them.’ Charlie answered warily as Lilith slid a little closer to him, her thighs now pressing against his. He tried to move further way, but Tchort was too close to his right. Trapped between the Devil on one side and a vampire on the other, how the fuck to I get myself into these situations? But this one is a first, have to admit that.
‘And there Charlie, we have the difference. You pray to God, oh how I hate that name, and the implication, the pretence that he is the sole deity in monotheistic belief, God the Father, blah, blah, blah, if have to call him anything at all I much prefer to call him by his name, Elohim, but I digress, an old man’s habit, I’m afraid,’ he smiled thinly, not meaning it the slightest. ‘You go to church, you pray to…Him, and all you get are some vague promises of a life hereafter in Heaven, with Heaven depicted as rosy-cheeked angel cherubs floating around on clouds playing their little harps and St Peter at the Pearly Gates and this benign God beaming through his big white beard at the world below. Well, I can tell you from bitter personal experience that he is not so benign, not so benign at all. Is that not so, Lilith, my dear?’
‘Most certainly,’ she responded, leaning closer so that her breasts brushed Charlie’s arm and he felt the rush of heat to his groin again, ‘down boy, down boy.’
‘Whereas Charlie, when you pray to me or seek my help, I respond, you asked for a spectacular illusion and I reacted at once, providing same day delivery, as it were,’ waving his hand towards the illuminated guillotine.
‘That’s all fine and dandy, and thank you for the theological dissertation, but the trouble is, you have never actually told me what it is I have to do to in order to …earn the trick and all the other goodies that come with it.’
‘As always, the price is negotiable. I found your first offer most acceptable, however, I am open to suggestion.’
‘Mt first offer…?’ Charlie answers, confused, ‘Oh, you mean that bollocks about selling my soul? It’s not real. It was only a joke, like. I mean, It’s only a saying isn’t it?’ but as he said it, a cascade of chill dread speared through his bones , it was not butterflies flittering in his stomach, it was bats, big bats, vampire bats with fangs, fangs that gnawed voraciously at his innards. ‘Words… and like you said earlier, words are just words…how did you put it…of no particular significance in themselves.’
‘Just words, is all. As you say, just a joke’ and Tchort got to his feet, allowing Charlie to move slightly away from Lilith, without being too obvious about it. ’In fact, do you even have a soul to sell? I doubt it, Charlie, indeed I do. So? What does that then leave us with? A pact. A treaty.’
‘A pact with the Devil? You must think I’ve just got off a banana boat. Do I really look that stupid to you?’
‘The illusion is yours, Charlie, absolutely and without conditions.’
‘What? Charlie exclaimed, also getting to his feet,’ without conditions, come on.’
‘No strings attached…except.’
‘Yeah, yeah, here’s always an except.’
‘Except,’ Tchort continued smoothly, ‘that you never ever reveal from whence the illusion came… and that Selene,’ nodding towards her, ‘remains a virgin. Without that she remains a virgin, the illusion cannot work.’
‘Her! A virgin? Nah, come on, you mean? She ain’t never…’ looking over towards Selene, ‘you ain’t never done it before? Well darling, for somebody that doesn’t know anything about it; you surely took an awful lot of interest just now. A lot of interest, I mean, you had your tongue so far down my throat I thought you were going to meet her coming the other way,’ nodding towards Lilith who was also now on her feet an standing close, very close to Charlie, must be my magnetic personality, he thinks sourly, wishing she would not get so close to him, it was very disconcerting. She is scary, but scary, a real man-eater. Literally a man eater, brushing his fingers against the bite on his chest which still oozed blood and winces at the sudden stab of pain. Wonder if she’s venomous?
‘There is no need for crudity; Charlie,’ Tchort gently chides him, ‘I find it demeaning in a man of your stature.’
‘Yeah, OK, sorry, girls.’ He turned to Selene, ‘so, you’re a professional virgin, sort of like a nun?’
‘I am a virgin and will remain so, yes.’
‘Yeah, as I say, like a nun?’
‘I think that it is stretching the anomaly a bit too far, Charlie, don’t you?’ Tchort said, with a humourless smile.
‘Aye, well whatever the equivalent of a nun is in…your world.’
‘Quite, quite. So, Charlie, to business. Do you accept my offer, an offer you will agree is more than equitable?’
‘I made him an offer he couldn’t refuse.’ Charlie growled, in a passable impersonation of Marlon Brando as Vito Corleone in ‘The Godfather.’ ‘Brando? The Godfather?’ he asked, seeing the blank look on the faces of Tchort
and the others. ’No? OK, so I get the illusion,’ he hurried on, ‘And Selene the Virgin Queen has to come along with it. Nothing else? I mean, as and when I die, you don’t take my soul or anything. Send me to Hell, nothing like that? All I have to do is keep shtum as to where the trick comes from. And keep my sweaty paws off Selene, is that about it?’
‘In a nutshell. You are to tell no one, not even Doreen or Clarrie. And Selene must remain a virgin whilst ever the illusion is in your possession. You keep the faith. That is all. You keep the faith!’
‘And what happens if some other randy little toe-rag gets the knickers off her? What then?’
‘I can assure you that that will never happen. But, for the sake of argument, should that occur, I will absolve you of all responsibility. It will not be deemed that you have broken the faith.’ and Tchort spread his arms out wide, as if to say, ‘well, what’s your answer?