Mydia's End

by Sean Davies

  “We are not going anywhere, sweet Genie-girl,” Varsara replied firmly.

  “We’re just gonna get smashed downstairs at the VIP bar,” Tanesha elaborated. “We thought you might like to join us later—you know, to unwind a bit and take your mind off things… but no pressure either way.”

  “That sounds cool. I’ll see how I’m feeling after a few swigs,” Genevieve answered, trying to sound eager despite having no intention of leaving her room. Genie knew if she joined them then she’d just end up sleeping with them; it wouldn’t be the first time she’d tried to escape from the clutches of grief in their tantalising arms, and she doubted it would be the last, but all she wanted to do right now was drink herself into a coma.

  Tanesha put her hands on her hips and gave Genie a knowing look. “You don’t have to fuck us, you know. We can promise you it won’t get out of hand.”

  Varsara tutted, giving her partner an amused look with her feline yellow eyes.

  “Okay… Varsara can promise you,” Tanesha admitted. “Maybe just avoid me towards the end of the night.”

  “I’ve tried that before, and still woken up with your ass in my face,” Genevieve smirked slightly, the memory making her feel sadder somehow. She was already craving physical comfort, despite knowing it would only make her feel worse after.

  Tanesha feigned offense. “I thought I had a nice butt?!”

  “Well, it is not as good as mine,” Varsara said playfully, receiving a harsh nudge in the ribs from her girlfriend.

  “I’ll see how I’m feeling later. If I’m up to it, I’ll come down, I promise,” Genevieve conceded.

  “Good, I know how you are with that promise malarkey,” Tanesha smiled, satisfied with her answer. “Greg and Kaylie are coming over later, too. I know they’re aching to see ya.”

  “And Gregory has concocted some new magical drug formulas!” Varsara added greedily.

  Genevieve took a long swig of Artravenia, feeling it messing with her inhibitions almost immediately. “Is that so? The odds of me attending just went up,” she joked. “At least Kay’s off limits now.”

  “Like she’d ever say no to you!” Tanesha laughed, before realising she’d put her foot in it. “No, I’m sure she and Greg are one-hundred percent exclusive…” she added, trying to backtrack.

  Varsara sighed and rolled her eyes. “We will leave you to it. Remember to shout if you need us.”

  “We’re having pre-drinks in the War Room for shits and giggles, so we’re literally just ‘round the corner,” Tanesha said, trying to hide the fact that she knew Genevieve would most likely be joining them sooner rather than later.

  “Thanks guys, for everything,” Genie said warmly, as her two old friends left her to her thoughts.

  “Maybe it is just better to fool around,” Genevieve sighed to herself, before pulling a piece of lined paper out from her drawer and selecting a glittery red gel pen from her obscene stationery collection.

  On the top of the page, she wrote: ‘Genevieve’s Jameson’s next book: Mydia’s End, a tale of love, loss, and stupid Fate-related bullshit that can fuck itself in the ass and go to hell,’ and proceeded to tear the page into a million pieces, scattering them over her shoulder.

  After a further mouthful of Artravenia, Genevieve rolled herself another Dreamleaf joint. She hesitated, knowing that mixing the two drugs with grief could cause some wickedly unpleasant visions, before conceding that she simply didn’t care. She took a long drag of the sweet hallucinogenic, and the walls began to weep a myriad of sad colours.

  “Blergh…” Genie giggled miserably, before taking another drag. She could already feel her sense of reason fading, and craved losing herself in Kaylie, Tanesha, and Varsara’s erotic embraces. “Whoop, just like old times!” she cackled, giving the finger to the melting walls.

  Suddenly, her phone emitted an incredibly irritating screech, and Genie attempted to pull it out of her pocket, dropping it several times in the process.

  Her phone had received a message from an ID that was comprised of a random string of characters and symbols, some of which didn’t even display properly, and Genevieve chuckled, believing that it was simply in her head.

  She opened the message and read it aloud to herself. “Constance Lee or Annabelle Jones?”

  Genie slumped into her desk chair and gave the message some thought. She would never stop loving Anna, she was sure of that, but her experience outside the Creator’s Mantle had given her the closure she’d been craving for years. Her old love had been right; they’d had their time together, eighteen years as best friends, spending the later few after puberty hit as lovers, even if they’d never made it verbally official until the end. Constance—that beautiful, overly confident, short Book Wielder with an even shorter temper—felt like Genevieve’s future, or at least had done, before she had heroically sacrificed herself to save the planet. Even though Genie knew that Connie had made the right choice, she felt as though the Book Wielder had been robbed of her life, and that she had been robbed of her soul mate. She still believed that they were meant to be together, even though it was obviously impossible.

  Without truly knowing why she was even bothering, Genevieve poured her thoughts and feelings into a reply message and hit the send button, before lobbing her phone across the desk and reaching for her joint and Artravenia again.

  A blinding light formed beside her massive four-poster bed, and Genevieve shielded her eyes as she tried to figure out what she was hallucinating. The light formed into the shape of a person, before fading and leaving Constance Lee, and her book, in its place.

  “Genevieve…? Did it work?” Connie asked, looking down at her naked body.

  “Varsara! Tanesha!” Genevieve screamed at the top of her lungs.

  “What—?” Constance started, looking confused.

  The gorgeous Werewolf and Vampire rushed into the bedroom and stopped just inside of the doorway, wearing amused looks on their gorgeous faces.

  “Looks like you started the party without us,” Tanesha said, licking her fangs.

  “You… you see her?!” Genevieve stammered.

  Constance quickly threw her book on the bed and tugged at Genie’s sheets so that she could cover herself, but the well-organised Nightclaw had tucked them in so well they hardly budged at her frantic attempts.

  “Honey, we have seen it all before,” Varsara said to Connie in a reassuring tone.

  “Doesn’t mean looking ever gets old,” Tanesha sighed, her hand trailing across her tight black dress towards her crotch.

  “That is one hell of a backside,” Varsara added, appraisingly.

  “Thanks, but uh… I’m, um, not into group stuff,” Constance stuttered.

  Tanesha chuckled, still playing with herself. “That’s what Genie-girl used to say when we first met her.”

  “Genevieve—help!” Connie begged, finally giving up with the sheets.

  “You’re… you… died!” Genevieve gaped, still frozen in shock.

  “This is Connie-Lee?!” Varsara said, raising her eyebrows.

  Tanesha stopped masturbating and tilted her head in confusion. “Now I’m really confused.”

  The Book Wielder completely abandoned the futile attempt to hide her modesty from Genie’s ogling friends, and attempted to explain as best as she could. “I brought myself back using the Creator’s power.” Constance rubbed her temple, finding that remembering the overwhelming experience was becoming increasingly difficult. “I think I left the parts of me the Creator needed behind… oh, and I revived someone that’ll put a smile on O’Kelly and the Reynoldses’ faces, along with the expedition team—minus that shit, Till Vanderborg, of course—and put them in the Stitches and Britches.”

  “Right…” Tanesha nodded, pretending to follow.

  “This is real?” Genevieve asked her two friends, wide-eyed with intoxication and shock.

  “Looks like it,” Varsara confirmed, pinching the joint out of Genie’s trembling fingers.

&
nbsp; “We’ll leave you two to catch up,” Tanesha said cheekily, before swiping back her Artravenia. “After that, I think its best we all head over to Gloomingdale for a pleasant evening filled with drink, drugs, and debauchery.”

  “Can you get through to Central Isle?” Constance asked Genie’s friends, seeing that Genevieve was still stunned silly, all the while ignoring their hungry looks that made her feel both awkward and surprisingly excited at the same time. “I don’t want anyone thinking I’m still gone, especially my parents.”

  “Sure thing, sexy-bum. I’m definitely looking forward to getting to know you better…” Tanesha said with a wink.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure she doesn’t bite,” Varsara added, somehow managing to be both comforting and seductive at the same time.

  Constance blushed and bit her lip as Genevieve’s friends left. “You Supernatural girls are crazy… don’t say the line. Goddesses above, I’m a Supernatural girl too, I suppose. You’ve got to promise me—don’t say the line—that we don’t end up doing something wild with them at that party!” she rambled, still flustered from the beautiful women’s flirtation, which was a strangely pleasant distraction from what she’d just been through with the Creator.

  Genevieve couldn’t reply. She looked her resurrected girlfriend up and down, struggling to speak, before she shook her head violently to regain her senses. “Was that you? On my phone?”

  “I think so,” Constance said, rubbing her temples in a vain attempt to get her brain working. “It was all so clear, but now it feels like it never happened.”

  “I can’t believe you’re back… I thought I’d lost you!” Genevieve cried happily, holding her love tightly.

  “It takes more than a higher being to take out this big-bummed Book Wielder,” Constance bragged confidently, all the while savouring every second of Genie’s cold touch. “So… do you think you could get me something to wear? Especially if we’re heading over to Gloomingdale soon.”

  Genevieve backed away from her lover, studying every inch of Constance’s bare form before slowly licking her lips. “There’s plenty of time for that,” she said provocatively, and she threw Constance onto her bed and kissed her like there was no tomorrow.

  “I love you so much, Genevieve Jameson,” Connie whispered passionately.

  “I love you too, Constance Lee,” Genie whispered back, feeling as though she was truly complete once again.

  Epilogue

  In the Tropican Archipelago, Jonathan Knight and Alice Eve walked down the sterile, brightly lit corridors of the Aldacium medical facility, holding each other’s hands and carrying several hampers of ‘get well soon’ gifts and cards.

  They walked past room after room, dodging the busy staff who were wheeling magically frozen civilians down the hallways (they were still working tirelessly to undo the results of Corriztis’ foul experimentation).

  “We really need a proper date night,” Jonathan remarked, sidestepping out of the way of two doctors who were pushing a black-eyed woman along in a wheelchair. “Think Stein can cover for you?”

  “He can, but there’s so much going on right now…” Alice began unsurely, before shaking her head. “You know what? Let’s just do it. I bet there are some really nice places to eat around here.”

  “And some really nice hotels, if you fancy an overnight break,” Jonathan suggested cheekily.

  The Lord Imperator pouted playfully as she pretended to think. “Maybe… it depends if you play your cards right.”

  The cheeky Mage’s communication stone chimed, and Jonathan sighed as he pulled it out of his brown overcoat.

  “Jonathan, where are you?!” Cherriesa’s sugary voice demanded from the enchanted stone.

  “Just on a mission… liaising with the Conclave. I might be here over night,” Jonathan lied.

  “Well, do not be long!” the Vampire leader of the Trinity hissed. “I expect you back first thing in the morning.”

  Jonathan put the stone back in his pocket with a groan. “No rest for the wicked.”

  “You’re going to be late tomorrow—very late. You know that, right?” Alice asked crossly.

  Jonathan flashed his wife a happy grin, running a hand through his spikey black hair. “Obviously, my love. I plan on being up most, if not all, of the night.”

  “Don’t push your luck,” Alice chided flimsily, trying to hide her excitement.

  Jonathan feigned sadness. “I guess I should just go back down into the Catacombs then…”

  Alice looked around to make sure the corridor was empty before slapping her husband’s butt. “Nope, you’re not going anywhere.”

  Jonathan laughed and attempted to get a solid smack on Alice’s ass as they reached the door to room one-zero-one, where Theodore Miller was being treated.

  The white lights in the corridor outside his room flickered violently, and the walls began to shake.

  “That can’t be good,” Jonathan grimaced as he prepared for trouble.

  A woman in a lab coat popped her head out of the door and smiled kindly. “Lord Imperator, Trinity Representative Knight—I am Doctor Beatrix Edge, it is an honour to have you in our facility.”

  “Don’t mention it,” Alice replied, trying to hide her suspicion. “What just happened here?”

  “Hmm?” Beatrix asked, pausing before realising what they were talking about. “Oh, the shaking! It’s nothing to worry about. Theo’s a Bloodmage, so there’s lots of loose telekinesis flying around, I’m afraid. Each Supernatural has their own little quirks that pop up throughout the treatment. It’s a very strenuous process, you see.”

  “I can imagine,” Jonathan nodded, relaxing instantly.

  Alice remained on edge, gesturing for the doctor to enter first. “After you.”

  “Of course, come in, come in,” Doctor Edge breezed cheerfully. “He’ll be so happy to see you.”

  Room one-zero-one was bare except for some metal chairs that were bolted down to the floor, along with a bedside table that had also been fastened securely in place. Theodore himself was strapped to a white bed, a multitude of tubes running from a large machine that dominated most of the space behind the headboard, directly into various parts of his body. His skin was pale and covered in dark spreading burns, but the Werewolf Shaman and fellow Vampire Bloodmage by his bedside were doing a great job of out-healing the watered down Sanctium entering his bloodstream to purge every last trace of Corriztis.

  Theodore stiffened, attempting to salute before he remembered that he was bound to the bed. “Ma’am, Mr. Knight… you have no idea how sorry I am—” he rasped in a weak voice.

  Alice raised her hand to cut him off. “You have nothing to apologise for, Miller. That wasn’t you. I’m just so overwhelmingly happy to hear your voice coming out of your mouth,” she added cheerfully, meaning every word.

  Theodore coughed a chuckle. “Same, ma’am. These guys have done a great job of burning that bastard out of me.”

  “The wretched creature put up quite a fight at first, spilling itself everywhere as it tried to find a new host,” Beatrix Edge explained chirpily as she bustled about, producing what looked like a high-tech water pistol filled with pure Sanctium, “but it was nothing we couldn’t handle.”

  “I knew I wasn’t the only one who carried a water pistol,” Jonathan whispered to his wife.

  “It’s hardly the same thing,” Alice replied, rolling her eyes with a slight smile.

  “They reckon I’ll be good to leave in a few days,” Theodore groaned with a wide smile on his long face.

  “That soon?” Alice asked in surprise.

  Beatrix nodded happily. “We’re just dealing with the trace elements of corruption now. He’ll be as right as rain before you know it!”

  “That’s great news!” Alice beamed. “We won’t be expecting you back on duty yet though, of course. You’re welcome to take off as much time as you need.”

  “I was hoping to talk to you about that, actually,” Theodore grimaced
, an uncomfortable expression on his gaunt face. “I don’t think I’ve got it in me anymore, ma’am. I’m sorry, but I don’t want to go through—”

  “You don’t have to explain,” Alice interrupted, unsurprised by his confession. “It’s perfectly reasonable, considering the hell you’ve been through. I’ll personally make sure that your early retirement package keeps you more than comfortable for the foreseeable future. Just know that there’s always a place for you in the Justiciars should you change your mind.”

  “Thank you, Lord Imperator Eve,” Theodore said, relieved that she wasn’t disappointed by his decision to quit.

  “What are you going to do now?” Jonathan asked kindly.

  “I hadn’t really thought about it, to be honest,” Theodore answered.

  Jonathan pondered hard before continuing. “I’ve been thinking I could really use an assistant, so that I can spend more time with my wonderful wife… are you interested? Running back and forth from the Catacombs is a damn sight safer than going toe-to-toe with Demons and monsters, and you would still get to see the world—just from a safer angle.”

  “Would Cherriesa clear that?!” both Alice and Theodore asked.

  “Pfft,” Jonathan shrugged. “I’ll sort it out with Silvario and Kaine.”

  Theodore grinned happily at the offer. “Then I’m game. Thank you, Mr. Knight.”

  Jonathan smiled in return, and placed a Trinity contact card on the bedside table. “Cool, give me a ring whenever you’re ready to start.”

  They said a warm farewell to Theodore and the staff before leaving, and were halfway out of the building when Jonathan’s communication stone chimed once again, causing the married couple to groan in unison.

  “Yo, Jonny-boy,” Kaine’s voice sounded cheerfully through the stone. “I’ve got a message from that minx of a redhead.”

  Jonathan breathed a sigh of relief, glad to be speaking to Kaine and not Cherriesa. “You mean Chloe?”