Power

by Kenya Wright

  I waved him away. “I have no need to kill women.”

  He looked up from the book and looked at me seriously. “One day you will. Trust me on that.”

  I blinked and returned to Aristotle in the present moment—naked, starving, and sitting on his throne of books. “My old friend, I came here to ask you to run Din City.”

  The walls vibrated. A baby cried on the second level. Five of my men pointed their guns in that direction. The wailing stopped. A cold wind blew through the space, disrupting some of the books and making the stacks tremble. A few of the volumes opened and pages swayed back and forth.

  “Noah.” Aristotle commanded my attention. “You must never ask me to leave here. I am fulfilling something that you can never comprehend. I am carrying out my purpose.”

  Your purpose?

  I didn’t know how to respond to that. So, I admitted the truth of my situation, “I’m stepping down from controlling Din City. You’re the only one that could do it.”

  A couple of my men stirred in the background. I hadn’t made a formal announcement to anyone. This was the first time they were hearing about my retirement.

  “You want to give me control of the city?” Aristotle asked.

  “You were fifth on the list.” I shrugged.

  “Why not let the survival of the fittest gain control?”

  “That sounds like more war and fighting. It doesn’t sit well with me. Innocent people will die if everyone rises up to take my position.”

  “Your attachments slow you down. Let go of Din City. It’s such a small place in a little world. Let her thrive without you. Innocent people will die? Haven’t some always died? Do you think that you are the lifeline for the entire city? Do you truly believe that your control protects them all? Let go of your attachments, Noah.”

  I gestured to his throne and the locs that stuck to the ceiling. “You say let go, as you attach yourself to a house.”

  Aristotle’s eyes turned bright red in response. Scary. Blood-curdling red. Incomprehensible. Something of horror movies. Nothing that could ever be real. I’d seen a lot of shit in my life, but in this moment, I almost pissed my pants.

  No, this is not Aristotle. This is something else.

  My body froze. Someone shrieked behind us. Not sounding like Mary Jane, it had to be one of my men. Shuffling came. I think a few people stepped out of the room. Metal definitely clinked. I was sure the guns had come out. These past months had triggered the impossible all around me—my brothers warred against each other, I fell in love, and even Vinese’s tarot cards had changed the very idea of reality. But even with all of these unimaginable occurrences going on, I still could not wrap my head around the scene in front of me.

  His eyes can’t be red like this. He’s figured out a way to make them look that way. This has to be a trick. This can’t be real.

  Aristotle glared at me with those red eyes. “Maybe, you should start looking within yourself for answers and stop coming to me. I’m busy. Do not return.”

  I slowly raised my hands. “I understand. We’re going to leave.”

  “Good.” Aristotle’s eyes dimmed back to normal. “One more thing. Butterfly also wanted me to tell her the future, but I told her that I didn’t know such things. She wondered if she would ever have a child. This is something you can probably use.”

  Those words fell on deaf ears for the moment. My friend’s eyes had raged like a monster. He sat there attached to this monstrous house with a history of blood. I had to do something. I couldn’t just leave.

  Okay. If I allow myself to think that anything is possible in real life. Forests can live and form horses out of trees. Cannibals can tell true fortunes of the future. Love can live and survive in my heart. If I can believe these things, I must address this house and Aristotle. I cannot ignore this anymore.

  Was he in his right mind? Did this house penetrate into him? Did he want to be free?

  With my hands still in the air, I asked, “Did she come with anyone?”

  Aristotle closed his eyes. “Of course.”

  “And did the other person leave with her?” I asked.

  He opened his eyes. “No.”

  “Did the person die?” I asked.

  His gaze delivered a shiver through me. “Of course. Butterfly has always understood the price. You have always pretended like it didn’t exist.”

  “What price?” I asked.

  Those red eyes returned. “Everyone must pay a price. These words are not free. Blood must be spilled.”

  “You’ve never said that before,” I said.

  “You never asked. Maybe you weren’t ready to believe it, but now you’re in love. Anything is possible now, right? You thought the world was black and white. Now you see the intricate shades of gray. The dark blues. The murderous red. The colors that don’t even have a name. Before, you thought you had all of the answers in life. Now you know that life is really only questions and that if you’re able to answer one or two things about our reality, you’ve won in some way.”

  “I have another question for you,” I said. “Will we all leave today?”

  “Do you all ever leave?” Aristotle closed his eyes. “Someone always dies.”

  “Aristotle?” I asked. “What the fuck are you talking about, Man?”

  Thunder rumbled behind us. Rain poured outside. The room darkened, although I could make out a few shapes here and there. Some of the towers of books trembled near us as if they were close to falling. Talking occurred behind me. The men had lost their sense of loyalty to the mission. Everybody was clearly scared out of their minds. I glanced behind me. Some had already tip toed out.

  Mary Jane had remained quiet, but now she came close to me and whispered, “W-we have to...”

  “Run?” I whispered back.

  “No.” Her bottom lip quivered. “We have to save him.”

  Although the room had darkened, Mary Jane glowed in a way. Like some light hung above her. I could see her better than anything else in the room.

  Vinese’s words hit me again.

  “Look for the light in the darkness and run fast toward that light, like you’re about to die. Never look over your shoulder at the darkness. Any light you see boy, you run for it.”

  She trembled next to me. “W-we can’t leave him here.”

  Men shuffled away. I doubted anyone heard, but the terror reached an all new high. Besides Crusher, Mo, 305, and Fuji, everyone else had sought a silent escape. Off in the distance a man screamed.

  305’s voice came out shaky. “Uh, Noah?”

  I raised my hand. “Give me a minute.”

  Okay. If I accept everything else, then I will agree that this house is cursed or at least living in some way. And it has my friend. It’s doing something to him. When I first walked in, I thought he looked like the heart inside of somebody’s chest, hooked up and connected to the ceilings and floors.

  I studied him some more.

  Aristotle closed his eyes again. “Whatever you’re thinking, Noah. End it.”

  “What am I thinking?” I put Mary Jane behind me.

  Aristotle’s voice lowered into a dark tone I’d never heard from him. “I think now is a good time to leave. Let’s see. How many of you will pay the price today?”

  “Fuck this!” 305 rushed out of there with no further warning.

  Chapter 29

  Mary Jane

  A Fool saw a eunuch talking with a woman and asked him if she was his wife. When he replied that eunuchs can't have wives, the Fool asked: "So is she your daughter?"

  –Philogelos (The Laughter Lover)

  So this turned into a fucking horror story really quick.

  “We got to leave, man!” 305 roared in front of us.

  The scent of blood filled the air, reminding me of the massacre in Butterfly’s brothel. Outside rain hammered on the roof and windows. Gun shots blared. I didn’t know who shot at who, but I damned sure wished I had a gun.

  A baby’s cries sounded on
the top level. Noah wasted no time, grabbed my hand, and yanked me out of that book-filled mess like I was a rag doll. Cold wind blew through the house like the windows and doors had been opened. Crusher and Fuji ran out too.

  “Is this the right way, Boss?” Crusher bumped his big body into me.

  “There is only one way.” Noah had his gun out. Swiftly, he maneuvered us through the men, books, and terror like a prowling tiger. No fear on his face, rage rose in his eyes. He gripped me hard, promised to never let go, and guided me from side to side. Books fell all around us, slamming into arms, shoulders, heads, and legs. A downpour of novels and anthologies.

  Noah knocked some away before they hit me. “Baby?”

  “I’m fine.” I couldn’t find Mo or the others.

  The ground quaked under my feet. Pages stuck to my skin. With each step, I peeled away sheets. Words flew in the air. Thunder crackled outside. Lamps came on and flickered inside like lightening. With each flash, I swore I spotted mangled bones among the books.

  Jesus! Get me the fuck out of here. We can save Aristotle next time.

  In the hallway, more stacks of books fell and collapsed into all of us, knocking some men down to the ground. No one helped or grabbed for them. They all were fleeing for their lives. If Noah hadn’t been yanking me forward, I might’ve reached for some of the others.

  The baby’s cries blended with Aristotle’s laughter and filled the air.

  Why had we even gone? We didn’t gain any information, besides the fact that the house was indeed haunted. What could be taken from this visit, besides hell does actually reside in pockets of the earth?

  We arrived at the end of the hall where the huge double doors had been opened.

  At least ten men rushed out. After that, the door slammed closed.

  “Oh, hell no!” 305 tried to open it. The knob wouldn’t turn.

  “Fuck!” He shot the knobs off. Nothing happened to the metal. No holes pierced the wood, only sparks. “Fuck this place, man!”

  “Calm down.” Noah raised a hand in the air. Everyone in the crowded hall turned to him. “Look. We’re scared, but this fucking house isn’t taking us down. We spread terror through the streets. Are we going to let this motherfucker get us?”

  Sweat trickled down almost all of his men’s faces.

  Crusher stepped up. A fierce mask covered his face. “What should we do?”

  I scanned the crowd. “Where’s Mo?”

  305 shot at the door again.

  “Stop.” Noah released my hand. “Fuji, grab Mary Jane and get her out of here if you can. If not, just fucking keep her alive. I’ll be right back. Everyone stay together.”

  He walked back to that terrifying living room. “305 and Crusher, come with me.”

  305 offered, “Maybe, 305 should man the door.”

  Noah roared. “Get your ass over here!”

  “What?” I smacked Fuji’s hands away and raced after Noah. “Baby, what are you going to do?”

  He stopped. “Get back in the front.”

  “No. I can help.”

  “I doubt the house well let us leave if you tell it a bunch of jokes.”

  “The house?” I whispered.

  “See.” 305 hit his head. “I told you that this motherfucker was cursed!”

  “What are you going to do?” I asked Noah.

  “You were right,” Noah said. “I should save him.”

  “Umm, that was before I realized that we couldn’t get out.” A book slammed into my shoulder. “And before he sounded like the devil.”

  Screeching came from our sides. Everyone turned. All of them pointed their guns so fast that shit scared me worst. These guys don’t play. For that reason, fear lessened in my heart. If one was to be stuck in a haunted house, one would want to be trapped with them.

  305 lowered his voice. “Where’s that noise coming from?”

  “Stairs.” Noah gestured with the tip of his gun.

  The screeching increased and the pounding of footsteps came next.

  Crusher growled in his dark voice. “Somebody’s coming, boss.”

  “Thank you, Crusher.” Noah frowned. “I think we figured that out.”

  The foot pounding came close. Cold wind blew through my hair and delivered a shiver. The books stopped falling. The storm continued to rage on outside.

  “Do we shoot whoever it is?” Fuji put his finger on the trigger.

  “Sounds like a good idea to me.” Noah made sure I stayed behind him.

  My heart hammered in my chest. We waited for the longest five seconds of my life. One. Boom. Two. That baby cried again. Three. Books fell in front of the door, barring our way for good. Four. Thunder crackled and I held my breath.

  Five.

  Mo poked his head out from the stairs. “There’s no baby up there.”

  Sighing, Noah put his guns down.

  “You almost got shot, kid.” 305 yanked him off the steps. “Why the hell would you go looking around here.”

  “The place is kind of cool.” Mo smiled. Sadly, I think that was the first time I’d ever seen the kid look happy.

  “What’s up there?” Fuji asked.

  “Who cares?” 305 headed back to the door. “Yo, where was the other guys that were here. Wasn’t it like five or so. . .”

  Crusher nodded. “When we headed back, Pete and Baby Boy went into the den or whatever that other room is.”

  “Probably more of a salon,” Fuji offered.

  “Everyone shut up.” Noah wiped the sweat off of his forehead and stared at me. “I shouldn’t have brought you.”

  I shook my head. “I just need a gun.”

  “Now that’s scary,” 305 muttered.

  Noah handed me one of his. “Can you shoot?”

  “No.”

  “305’s right.” Noah took it back. “Stay behind me.”

  “Hey, I can help.”

  “Help do what?” he asked.

  “I don’t know.” I thought back to that first sight of Aristotle. His dreadlocks connected to every part of the house. I’d wondered if he glued them there, but knew that had to be ridiculous. But his whole house was absurd—towers of books, haunting chaos, and a sweet scent as he sat naked on that throne. “We need a knife, maybe if we cut his hair. . .”

  Noah quirked his eyebrows. “What?”

  “We should cut the dreads off of him or something. Shoot them away.”

  Squinting, Noah looked like he was considering my idea. Meanwhile, everyone else moved books out of the way, possibly searching for another door. A man screamed in horror on the other side of the house. How many had already died? Lots of men had been screaming since we’d tried to escape.

  Noah rubbed more sweat off of his face with his arm. “Okay. You’re the light. Let’s try it.”

  He stalked off.

  “I’m the light?” I muttered.

  Fuji and Crusher moved to my sides which was damn near impossible in that book-stacked hallway. If they thought they were keeping me safe, they were wrong. I was damn close to being crushed by both of those big bodies.

  305’s voice screeched. “Oh shit, we’re going back?”

  “I can’t believe this,” 305 muttered as he followed. What else could he do? Rather that, then him stand in the hallway alone. I glanced over my shoulder. Mo giggled with each step, browsing novel titles with glee in his eyes.

  That kid is really messed up.

  We re-entered the living room.

  Aristotle still sat on the throne. His eyes blazed bright red. His hands lay on his knees as if he’d been meditating. “What do you want?”

  Noah wasted no words. He raised both guns in the air and shot at Aristotle’s dreadlocks. Two fell from the air. Blood dripped from the ceiling. Glass cracked off in the distance.

  Noah shot some more. “Everybody shoot at his hair.”

  With no questions or pause, everyone complied, including 305 who was more than happy to have something to shoot at. More locs fell. Blood came
too. I ducked behind Crusher’s huge ass, getting out of the way.

  “Noah?!” Aristotle screamed as fear blazed through those red eyes. He remained in the lotus position, but now his body shook as more dreads fell around him. “What are you doing?!”

  More books fell.

  “Watch out, baby!” I yelled and dove to the floor, scared to get in the way of all the bullets.

  “I got it.” Noah knocked the books away and slid to the right, shooting more locs.

  I need a knife or something. I should’ve kept that gun.

  I looked around. Some of the dreadlocks had been stuck to the floor too. I crawled over to them and grabbed one. Jesus Christ! The loc pumped in my hand. Like a heartbeat. As if it was alive. Like the hair breathed or at least was a vehicle for something else that lived.

  “Oh, God.” I tightened my hand around this thick, beating dreadlock and ripped it away from the floor. Blood sprayed. “It’s definitely the locs!”

  I guess.

  “Keep shooting at them!” I searched for more.

  Instead of one baby crying above us, several blared on the second floor.

  What is that? Mo said there were no babies up there. Is that the house?

  The noise filled the air. Nevertheless, the guys shot and I yanked away these disgusting things. Blood poured down my hands and covered my legs. In fact, it rained blood upon us. Blood and dreadlocks. At one point in time, I’d considered locing my hair. Now, I probably couldn’t look at the hairstyle again without vomiting.

  “No! No!” Aristotle never moved. He just screamed. “No! You’re killing her!”

  Her? Fuck!

  People reloaded while others shot. More books toppled over us. Crusher slammed several away. The windows, that I hadn’t seen before, all came into view. They opened on their own. Wind and rain blew in.

  I crawled all over the floor, searching for more. Every now and then, I checked on Aristotle. Tears covered his face. His head looked odd. Different sizes of locs dangled on his blood-splattered face. He just kept shaking his head and crying.

  No babies cried. No laughter came from Aristotle. Minutes passed. Shooting and reloading ensued. Once we were all sure the locs had left his head, Noah ordered Crusher to grab Aristotle. And that man’s body quaked in the big guy’s arms.