The Devil's Paradise

by Aiden James

  Deshawn’s falsetto voice and feminine posturing nearly brought them to tears.

  “I’m serious, ya’ll!’ he continued, much more indignant. “You’ll never catch black folks doing that shit. Hell, no! When a ghost moves in, we move out!!”

  This only made them laugh harder; despite Deshawn’s furrowed brow and eyes morphing into volatile dark pools.

  “And, now you want me to spend the night upstairs with something that’s a hell of a lot worse than any goddamned wayward spirit. You’re both out of your fucking minds!”

  “So, I take it you’re planning to stay down here, then?”

  Jeremy still laughed, seemingly unconcerned by his buddy’s growing wrath.

  “No. I’m coming with ya’ll,” said Deshawn, his tone somewhat hushed, as if resigned. “I just want you to know how much I detest this shit! I’ll set up shop in the den and enjoy the small comfort of that enormous TV. Don’t worry, I’ll keep it low. No one should be able to see through the curtains in that room. They look like the vinyl-lined ones you see in hotels. But, I’m warning you...if anything fucks with me, I’m waking your asses up!”

  They moved up the stairs with arms laden with food and supplies. Jeremy joked around with Deshawn and Jack, and the mood quickly turned lighthearted again. After placing the perishables and beverages in the refrigerator, Jack and Jeremy retired to the bedrooms on the second floor. Since likely Deshawn would be up before either of them woke, he offered to have breakfast waiting for them when they finally stirred.

  Once the brothers settled in for the night, Deshawn walked down the hallway from the kitchen to the den, where he turned on the television and relaxed in an overstuffed sofa facing the TV. He would later tell Jeremy he hadn’t planned to sleep much on account of his earlier experience, grateful for enough distractions to help him pass the time. Even so, on several occasions before daybreak he found himself craning his neck toward the den’s doorway. At least once, he could’ve sworn soft footsteps moved across the hardwood floor just outside the den.

  Jeremy fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow on the bed he chose that night. Jack’s room directly across from him, he found it a little harder to immediately fall asleep, despite his exhaustion. Instead, he replayed the last few days’ events in his mind again, running them faster and faster until they became an indiscernible blur. When he finally succumbed to sleep, he was thinking of Dr. Mensch and his strange history as Viktor Seiverlich, as well as the professor’s disturbing fascination with Genovene.

  ***

  Jack woke up suddenly, alarmed. His bed had disappeared and so had the entire bedroom itself. Lying on a long ornate couch in a large white marble room filled with exquisite furnishings accented in gold, he gasped and sat up with a start.

  Where the hell am I?? Looks like some sort of palace!

  He got up from the couch and walked over to a pair of magnificent glass doors, roughly thirty feet away. The doors crept opened, and he hesitated. But as if something else directed his will, he proceeded through the doorway and stepped out onto a marble veranda similar to the one from his recent dream of Oscar Mensch.

  He stepped over to the balcony’s edge and peered below. A sprawling courtyard sat below him, with twin rows of ornate golden fountains on either side. Unusually tall handsome men and voluptuous women moved freely among the fountains, bathing and laughing merrily as they played in the water.

  “Oh, shit!” Jack whispered, recognition bringing immediate panic.

  “Hello, Darling!”

  He whirled around. A beautiful light-skinned woman sat at a small gold table next to the doorway. Dressed in a white silk gown, her braided white hair in jeweled beads framed the delicate features of her face. She stood up and moved toward him, completely naked beneath her sheer attire.

  Difficult to fight the arousal growing within, he hated himself for it. The woman’s luminous blue eyes locked onto his bewildered gaze as she closed in, filling him with a strange mixture of intense loathing and libidinous confusion.

  “It’s been a long time, Jack,” she said as she moved up to where he stood. “Have you missed me?” The young woman glanced at his crotch and smiled naughtily.

  “You laughed while I almost bled to death, Genovene, and before that you were going to eat me, you soulless whore!” he sneered, surprised at how easily malice flowed from him toward her, despite her seductive disguise.

  “Oh, come now!”

  She cringed as if his rebuke had been unexpected and hurt her. Jack knew otherwise, and a moment later she stepped away from him, smiling slyly over her shoulder as she returned to her seat at the table.

  “All right,” she said. “If that’s how you want to handle this, then we’ll get right down to business.” The sweet warmth in her voice was now tainted by a hint of acid. “Unlike you, Oscar has adopted a much better outlook on things, and as such, he is being rewarded quite well in my Father’s kingdom. He will prosper and continue to grow, I’m sure...unless certain ‘business decisions’ he makes, or has already insisted upon, don’t turn out to our liking. Know what I mean, Jackie boy?”

  She paused to study him, her luminous eyes boring into his psyche. For the moment he remained by the veranda’s edge, seemingly frozen to the marble floor. He worried about her words’ ominous implication.

  “That’s something I’ve always loved about you, Jack. You get the point of things so quickly!” she observed, giggling quietly. “The bottom line for you is this: the Blood Star must be reborn, by dawn two days from now. Everything will be ready by then on this side, and I’m sure with a great deal at stake for you personally, there’ll be no problem ensuring you and your lovely brother complete your end of the deal in a very timely fashion.

  “One other thing,” she continued, “and, the best way to relate this is through a little parable for you to chew on until the next time we meet. When I realized the time was nigh for the return of my race to the world on a full-time basis, I said I needed just one man for the job. Flatter yourself if you like, because I did mean you. But, then, Oscar said two would be better. I relented, for having the opportunity to milk Jeremy’s mind, as well as his luscious loins, made sense. But, then Jeremy said three would be better. Now that’s a problem, because ‘three’ has always been ‘a crowd’ in my book.

  “So what’s a girl in my delicate and deadline-demanding position to do, you ask? Well, I like the way the black man looks, and if he’s as delicious as he seems he’d be, then what the hell? Three’s no longer a crowd, Jackie boy! It’s just another trip to the smorgasbord to collect my ‘two for one’. That’s two lives for one, or maybe you would prefer to consider it as the blood from one will get you two. Think about this, hon’, until it makes complete sense, will ya? I guarantee a wonderful time awaits you, so make sure you’re ready to collect your reward, your elevated status in Talusha’s kingdom….”

  ***

  “...Jackie, we can sleep later, man. Come on, get up! Wake up—oh, now, there you go!! Damn it, you’re getting to be a real pain in the ass to wake up these days, you know that, Jackie?? I thought I’d have to pour water on you!”

  Jeremy stood above him, his latest cancer stick alight in one hand. He’d already changed into the clothes Deshawn brought for him.

  “It’s a little early, I know. But Deshawn’s cooked us one hell of a breakfast, and it’ll get cold if we don’t eat now. Come on!”

  He helped Jack sit up in his bed and placed his change of clothes next to him. “What time is it?” asked Jack, still quite tired and disoriented after the dream-conversation he just had with Genovene.

  “It’s ten minutes after seven, bro,” Jeremy told him. “You probably want to kill me right now, but I can’t wait to get started downstairs. While I slept, I had the craziest dream with Oscar in it, and he told me how to lay the damn thing out to where it’ll actually work. Can you believe it? Deshawn’s totally jazzed, though I can tell he didn’t sleep as well as he should have. He stayed up and watche
d television until dawn—just like he threatened!”

  Jack cleared the sleep from his eyes, trying to focus his attention on his brother. But all he could think about were Genovene’s implied threats. Once fully awake, he had Jeremy repeat what he said and then followed him downstairs.

  In the clear light of day, the main floor’s expanse was much more impressive than he previously realized. The furnishings definitely among the finest money could buy, it only added to the mystery as to how much Dr. Quard-e-Lazim was worth and why he went to the trouble of procuring this estate and bringing the priceless artifacts here to Alabama. Jack figured Jeremy and Deshawn wondered the same thing. Unfortunately, answers would have to wait until they learned more about this strange project.

  The entire floor was filled with the aroma of pancakes, ham, and bacon along with the even stronger scent of fresh coffee. The huge spread Deshawn had prepared on the dining room table surprised Jack. His first instinct told him there was no way in hell they could eat all of this food by themselves, though his raging hunger suggested otherwise. In addition, a large plate of scrambled eggs and hash browns, and another with biscuits and breakfast pastries sat on the table.

  “Good morning, Jackie!” Deshawn greeted him.

  Jeremy’s assessment of their friend’s sleep allotment proved accurate. Similar to how Jeremy looked the night before, a noticeable trace of redness circled the rims of his eyes.

  “I know you’re still really tired, man, but maybe you’ll get a better chance to rest this evening, after we’re done putting that thing together downstairs. Jeremy shared his dream with me, and it now seems possible we could actually reconstruct the Blood Star by late afternoon, provided we start within the next hour or so,” he explained. “That’s why breakfast is a few hours earlier today than you originally expected. So go ahead, Jackie. Pick out a spot and we’ll all dig in!”

  They sat down around the long mahogany table, careful to avoid bumping into an immense crystal chandelier that hung just above it. Manners were of no concern as they hastily fed their ravenous appetites. They spent almost ten minutes doing this when a loud ring suddenly reverberated throughout the main floor.

  Some kind of alarm? Perhaps the smoke from the oven or Jeremy’s cigarette and Deshawn’s slim cigar set something off. Or maybe some unseen motion-detector had been inadvertently tripped by one of them. As the ring continued, however, they soon realized it was a telephone, the receiver light blinking in the living room near the fireplace.

  No one wanted to answer the phone, even though it rang five times in succession twice before ceasing. Instead, they spread out through the main floor, carefully peering through the windows at the surrounding yard and nearby street and alley. For the moment, they couldn’t safely determine whether anybody observed them from outside the house. The only thing that seemed out of place was a pair of vans Deshawn noticed parked a few houses away on the other side of Queens Court. Identical maroon vehicles with darkly tinted windows.

  “What do you think, man?” Deshawn asked Jeremy.

  “I’m not sure,” he replied. “Other than the fact if something’s noticeable, no matter how mundane or innocent it might be, it’s usually something to pay attention to. For now, I’m going to assume someone knows we’re here, even though it could’ve been a wrong number or someone trying to reach Dr. Quard-e-Lazim. Maybe even someone unaware that Oscar’s passed on.”

  “Or, maybe someone’s trying to warn us,” offered Jack.

  Jeremy stopped and looked at his brother, as if he hadn’t considered this possibility before now. He motioned for all of them to immediately head downstairs.

  “Jackie’s right, man,” he said as he looked over at Deshawn. “That makes the most sense, so we need to go pack up our shit and hide out down in the tunnel until we get a better handle on what’s going on here.”

  “What about the beds upstairs and the mess in the kitchen and dining room, ya’ll?” asked Deshawn, nodding toward the staircase and eating areas.

  Jeremy hesitated and then moved over to the dining room table, mashing out his cigarette before grabbing a few biscuits and a handful of bacon.

  “It’s too late for any of that, I’m afraid,” he said. “I suggest both of you come grab what you can and follow me downstairs. If my gut feeling’s right, we’ve got maybe five to ten minutes tops to get organized.”

  Deshawn and Jack picked up a few items from the dining room table, and Jack thought to grab the beer from the refrigerator as well. Jeremy applauded his brother’s forethought and then led the way downstairs, advising Deshawn to lock the basement door behind them.

  They moved quickly over to Dr. Mensch’s desk, where Jeremy and Deshawn loaded the remaining food items into the duffel bag. They agreed for Jack to take the backpack with him and load a few items from the circle of tables into it. Specifically, one sizable gem fragment and one marble piece from each crate, including the middle one. If they encountered dire trouble, having a complete sample from the shrine might give them bargaining leverage should they need it, since there wasn’t time to formulate a more effective plan.

  As Jack finished packing the last relics inside the backpack a loud crash shook the main floor, the front door forcibly opened. Heavy footsteps spread throughout the top two levels. When the unwanted visitors converged on the kitchen and dining room, Jeremy urged Jack to rejoin him and Deshawn at Dr. Mensch’s desk.

  Jack gathered the journals and diary pages, along with the scroll in the Tupperware container, and stuffed them all into the backpack’s remaining space. Meanwhile, having stuffed the duffel bag with the remaining food items, Deshawn stumbled onto the Escalade’s keys. Jeremy stuffed them inside one of his jeans’ pockets and motioned for Deshawn to close the duffel bag.

  “Wait!” Deshawn whispered to him. “We can’t forget my good luck charm, man!” He picked up his basketball and created a space to accommodate it. Before he closed the zipper, Jack stopped him.

  “You’re going to hate me for this, but you need to leave the ball, Deshawn,” he told him, nodding to his brother that he had a damn good reason for requesting this.

  Jeremy pointed upstairs to remind him it wasn’t the time to be fooling around. Jack moved over to the box containing the Cristal Del Sol and removed it.

  “Ya’ll may think I’m nuts, but I’ve got a strong feeling we need to take this with us, and it’s not a good idea to simply carry the thing,” he explained. “It needs to be hidden in either the duffel bag or the backpack, and the backpack’s already stuffed with important shit.”

  Not the entire truth, but there wasn’t time to explain what he just heard whispered in his ear by an unseen presence. If the voice had been from Genovene, he would’ve ignored it and focused only on their immediate safety, the Cristal Del Sol’s fate be damned. But, the voice was one he hadn’t heard since the last time he dealt with Genovene, though he recognized it immediately. The whispered message came from his mom’s spirit. Her words emphatic, the crystal sphere must be removed from the house and ‘hidden until the time of perdition has passed’.

  I’m not crazy! Jeremy quit looking at me like that!!

  “No way, man!” Deshawn protested. “Grandma Nanine warned me long ago not to lose any of my good luck charms. She said they’re the only things that’ll keep me safe through life, and that I needed to treat them like they’re made of gold! Shit, Jackie, I’ve still got a rabbit’s foot on a silver chain she gave me for my ninth birthday!!”

  “It doesn’t fucking matter, you two!” Jeremy hissed just as the basement door was kicked open. Immediately, a chorus of male voices whispered excitedly from the top of the staircase. “I’ll hold onto the ball, Deshawn—trust me!” He lowered his voice to where it was barely audible. “‘Looks like we’re out of time, boys!”

  Jack replaced the basketball with the Cristal Del Sol and carefully zipped up the duffel bag, praying no one on the basement’s stairs heard him. In the few seconds that remained before the intruders reached
the basement, the three of them scurried quietly over to where the old furnace sat. The furnace large enough to obscure them, the first intruder’s face was now visible on the stairway.

  The soldiers’ appearance validated Deshawn’s hunch they weren’t Americans. Israeli commandos or other mercenaries from that region, the language they spoke among themselves seemed to be a Hasidic dialect. Deshawn quietly related this information to Jeremy and Jack as they watched the group of nine men move about the tables and Dr. Mensch’s desk, admiring and sifting through the contents while they scanned the rest of the basement. When they started to move toward the furnace, Jeremy threw a cinder block fragment toward the staircase as a distraction, and immediately opened the underground passageway’s door, motioning for Deshawn and Jack to go through the doorway first.

  Once the soldiers recognized their presence near the furnace, they shouted for them to stop. When they didn’t, the group opened fire with automatic rifles. Bullets riddled the furnace and earthen wall surrounding the doorway, but the three entered the underground tunnel unharmed. Despite the passageway’s narrowness, they moved unhindered to the storage shed. As they approached the halfway mark, and their pursuers opened the passageway’s door, Deshawn had the presence of mind to use a small knife he carried to cut the wires in the string of lights above their heads. The tunnel was swallowed up by impenetrable darkness.

  Knowing the passageway’s course, which angled slightly to the north on its way to the shed, it effectively put them out of the line of fire, at least momentarily. The soldiers fell behind and didn’t appear to have a flashlight readily available. It wasn’t until Deshawn, Jack, and Jeremy had climbed up safely into the shed that the faint glow from a light behind them appeared. Their angry pursuers would catch them soon.

  Jack hurriedly closed the trap door. A sliver of daylight squeezing through the curtain provided the only illumination in the building’s dimness, just enough to readily identify the shed’s contents. Deshawn and Jeremy tried to move the riding mower to cover up the trap door, but one of its wheels was bolted to the cement floor with a large lock.