We stayed that way for hours, neither moving or speaking. The heat was almost unbearable, but neither moved to seek shade. Then, slowly, ever so slowly like the rotation on a planet and without any alteration in our bodies or the heat, it went dark.
Sometime later that day or possible sometime else.
I was drunk. I freely admit that, in fact it would be hard to deny judging from the reports I received later (looking through my pockets recently I found a grainy photocopied image of 'anatomy' and a Doctor's phone number written in biro along it).
Ludo had sourced a plentiful supply of both medical and commercially sold, or judging from the misspelled labels, brewed in a bath, alcohol. He opened bottles, sniffed content and mixed several together by pouring them into a glass scientific jar I wanted to call a test tube or beaker but it was flat bottomed and swept up to a tube and spout (if you know what this is answers on a postcard) creating a disgusting washed out brown concoction only the truly desperate, alcoholic or average sports Uni student would consider imbibing. Deplorably, I now have to count myself amongst that list.
It tasted of burning. That is all I can tell you and that is more than I wish to remember but it did have the desired effect and quickly too.
"Drink more." said Ludo, pouring another batch of liquid brown fire.
"NoooooooOOOOoooOOooo." I giggled, I'll be sick. "Let’s go now look for bad things." O.K I never said this out loud, it was what I wanted to express but instead it came out as less goo, lok fr baaad fins. Luckily Ludo spoke hopeless drunk human and only gave me one more drink.
It burned. My eyes rolled. It went dark. When the light slowly returned I had to blink my eyes because it looked like I was standing in a scorched dry meadow. Then the real world fizzled into view like a reflection in a pond full of busy fish, swirling and rippling in and out of focus until it snapped back and then it really hit me. My head swam, and for once I was thankful for the wheelchair, or I would have been if I could workout why I was moving and not moving my legs. To even it up I did try to walk and I thought I was doing a good job of it as I seemed to be heading straight down the corridors even when I wasn't looking; Oh how our proudest moments can turn into our secret shames.
I knew the plan, to look at people, identify anything 'different' or strange although I also thought It would be a good idea to chat up any good looking young people out there and find a kebab.
"Keep what's left of your mind on our goal." hissed Ludo into my ear after he pulled me gently but firmly back into our appropriated wheelchair. "We have limited time and a lot of space in which to cover."
Our path through the hospital was more indirect but with more pace. As the corridors tipped from side to side I saw people, briefly but I saw them clear. Their faces in pain and discomfort, boredom and waiting, concern and contempt but faces of men, women and children all in a place they did not want to be. Others were here, around everyone and diligent in their activities, hair as golden as the first ray of light on the longest day - this was confusing to me as I could clearly see their hair was black or blonde and every shade in-between, but at that time it was golden and radiant. They looked at me with a smile and they were beautiful. One in a room would fill it with light and warmth and I felt safe, but most of all I could hear strings, from what instrument I do not know even now but I hazard a guess at a family of large violins or something similar playing chords rising and falling like heartbeats, regular and necessary to sustain life. In the real world Ludo said he could see patients and nurses in the rooms all busy been looked at or doing the looking.
The next room was cold, devoid of sound, all except the thumping of anxious feet on the floor, shouts from fellow drunks and the bellowing of communications -but compared to the last room it was silent and dark.
Ludo told me, after I explained to him what I had seen, that Angels have been living amongst us for as long as we have been around - longer. They love being near us and over time Angels (who are ageless) begat angels who still loved us and cared for us and were mortal like us; mixed DNA - or DNAxtream. So it’s only natural that those of us who are angelic, even very removed from the originators of their gifts, care for us still or are drawn to professions where they help. The same can be said for Demons. Those above us only know what led 'them' to mix their seed with us, but over the decades, centuries, Demons became demons became thieves, muggers and .........you'll be surprised how many bankers too, it'll be easy to say anyone who likes hurting others for the fun of it or anyone who upholds petty rules for their own pleasure and dominance are demonkin; but sadly, according to Ludo, don't underestimate the darker side of basic human nature
Sunday bloody Sunday. 22:00
My head hurt like Hell, its neighbours and all their allotments too. I was once told to never mix drinks as it leads to hangovers. That's based on grape and grain not playing nicely with each other. What you get from mixing medical grade alcohol with bargain basement off licence vodka and whiskey distilled in a tin bath is a coupling that seem fine when they first meet but they do not act like adults when they wake up in the morning and realise what they had done.
What made it worse was we had totally failed. Of a demonic presence there was nothing out of the ordinary to be found. A&E was full of pain and misery, human and as close to human they would never know they had anything else in their ancestry; Oh and a couple of minor Fae who had managed to padlock themselves together and were suitably embarrassed to not be suspects.
"This isn't working." I stated with as much warmth as a frozen fish finger. "Just get me somewhere quiet as these f'ing angels are really screwing with my head."
Ludo had the good grace not to speak, but from behind me I could hear the huge sniggering grin spread across his face by the rifts of his own universal tones. We went somewhere, I cannot remember the path I rode nor the faces I saw, they were all of little consequence. The pain in my head was worsening but matched by the pain in my heart for all the lost souls I cannot save for my lack of progress. More lives will be lost because of me and my failings and although the thumping agony between my temples makes all my thoughts retreat before they could be born into mind but with everything I am I could not shift that one thought from before my eyes.
"We have lost." I cried and Ludo replied with words I cannot remember or repeat but they offered no condolence or solution. I beat the arms of the chair and instantly regretted it so I cried tears as large as raindrops in a thunderstorm.
Ludo pushed me past a familiar corridor full of cartoons and imagery on every wall. They danced out at me and I pushed back into my chair, they were horrors to behold and fell upon me from the walls. I shielded my eyes and dared to peer through my folded arms that crossed my face and they were back on the walls once more full of smiles and wide eyed purity. There were grieving relatives with Doctors and nurses all hushed and British within the ward. Children were sleeping as best they could. The music picked up and I banded my head with my hands to silence it; How could angelic beings that care for us drive such noise around them? Beautiful it maybe, I love it so, but why so loud?. Ludo pushed me faster past an almost empty waiting room and thumbed a code into a door set into the side. He was home and I was back to where Xanthic had rescued me only hours before.
"I can clean it a little......" began Ludo pushing me into his small room.
"Just get out!" I screamed in pain. "I don't care I just need silence for five minutes to get my head sorted. I need to be in peace." A migraine not exaggerated by light but by noise had gripped me and in this small room Ludo's background aura-sonus must have increased because the his now familiar deep bass was now sounding something akin to the Death Metal an ex-boyfriend used to listen to in his car when he picked me up and actually thought it would turn me on as he drove.
Ludo hovered half in and out the door, hiding his bulk behind it for safety. "Is there anything I can do? Aspirin or anything?" He asked.
I pulled a smile with all my strength and said yes I would like that and uttered
a very basic apology.
Ludo mirrored my smile and pushed the door open feeling safer again. Behind him in the corridor was a single figure hands over her face and crying quietly in the waiting room; poor woman, I could empathise with her pain.
"Just the aspirin." I said again as a prompt to entice him to leave by giving him a task to complete elsewhere. "And turn that bloody screaming music OFF!" I yelled as it raised its volume way past 10 to brain splitting levels. My eyes scrunched up as acidic tears filled my eyes and a blinding flash of pain hit me. I opened them to see if he was going; he was stood there in indecision whether to come to my aid or leave me in peace and I saw clearly the grieving mother drop her hands to her side, in a heartbeat she was out of her chair, face contorted into anger and evil, eyes as red as fresh blood and boiling with rage, nose hooked exaggeratedly and teeth rotten and black. There was only a few strides between us which were covered in two swift steps. With strength not obvious by her size she swept Ludo off his feet and threw him bodily down the corridor where he thudded hard and loud into the double ward doors causing them to smash into the walls beyond. The hag thing was inside the room, fingers reaching and now touching my throat, the Death Metal screamed at me as I felt her breath on my skin. The music ceased, the wretched figure pulled back and with a metallic scream of electric guitar she shot forward her mouth wider than humanly possible; then I felt her teeth break my skin.
22:03
The 'thing' was on me. Arms like iron stanchions supporting a desiccated husk of a body, unmoving and steadfast; try as I might I could not move them, bend them or free myself from their grasp. I felt sick to my stomach, there was blood flowing warm and fast from my body and down my chest and arms dropping in thick splats to the floor. My heart was thumping hard within my chest as I tried to scream and thrash around, anything to give me leverage to get this beast off of me.
I could taste blood in my mouth and I now kicked out under the monster and used my nails to rake at its face then with handfuls of lank greasy strands of stinking hair I pulled trying to retract the head from my neck. I got a thumb to its left eye and pushed finding resources to go further than I thought I could as my life depended on it. The beast relented and raised its head, blood, MY blood dripping from its lips and tears of my flesh between its decayed teeth.
"Does the pretty want to play?" it squealed tilting its head to the side with its weeping eye dripping fluid down its stretched cheek to better look at the horror on my face. "I haven't been hiding from you little human hunter. Look at you so small but so sweet. I taste you in my mind and on my tongue. I lick your juices, mmmmm" it purred.
It smiled with cracked grey lips and a rasp like laugh gurgled within its gnarled throat. I could not reply as my own throat was thick as if swollen with saliva turned into wallpaper paste and unresponsive. I shook my head as that was all I could do. I prayed, if that could be considered correct wordage to use in this situation, for Ludo to come and save me. I'm sure he would have seen the irony if I could live to tell him. I thought my heart was going to rip free as it pumped harder and faster than ever before. Colour started to drain from my vision and in my panic I could swear it was floating away from me and to the hag thing that was laughing over me. I could see the sagging mottled skin on its face tighten and smooth out. Its lank grey hair filled out and a deep shine slipped from roots down to tip. The hag was no more and turning into a young woman before my eyes. It had my beauty, my youth.
The colour was almost all gone, I was close to passing out, I knew it as all the pain was gone and my head was heavy and sleep was waiting all around to flood into me. My hands started to shake, as did my body, a last natural reflex to escape an imminent expiry. A flash of white light flew past my vision and a pin prick of pain spasmed through my right arm like an electric shock. Fingers cold and unfeeling wrapped around a shaft and I remembered the knife I had within my bag at my side. I struggled to free it and brought it out. I did not have the strength to deliver a killing blow nor did I have the manoeuvrability to inflict any real damage to my foe. I just hoped Ludo, Xanthic or any sympathetic soul would see it and assist where I could not.
With the colour finally fading from my sight, and the rest of my vision reducing to a pin prick like an old black and white TV set being turned off I convulsed one last time before total darkness enveloped me.
*
I did not wake up; but at some point I regained awareness.
When I did I screamed or at least tried too. I could not draw breath, the air was hot, used and weak like drawing in air from an extraction system exhaust.
I was trapped, penned in like a lamb surrounded by a flock of sheep; confined by sheer numbers and forced to move in the overall direction of the crowd. It was like Boxing day sales in London, hundreds of people crushing into every shop in search of illusive bargains instantly evaporating into other shoppers' arms. My chest was pushed hard against the man in front and equally my back had the pressure from the person behind. My sides were shoulder to shoulder with the men and women all silently shuffling in an uncoordinated but general direction. The stink was fantastic! A mixture of body odour, dirt, excrement, ammonia and rotten eggs, wet dog and blood. No comfort from the heat nor from the constant tide of movement.
I tried to focus on where I was; something Xanthic taught me. If you know where you are, then you can workout where you need to be.
OK, calm down and draw a deep breath. It was hard to breath and although there was strong light everywhere, all I could see was the deepest shadow; everyone was in blackness and although inches in front of me I could make out no features on anyone; like walkers on a beach on a bright sunset, they were visible to me only in darkness, each figure robbing from me the light I craved to see.
The roof was only a hair width above my head, it was rough stone inexpertly hewn and as I was pushed at an ever moving shuffling pace in a general forward direction I caught my head on rutting rock and bumps in the ceiling. The floor was its match. I could not look down due to the closeness of the crowd all pushed together as if at a rock concert or sports event. My arms were pinned to my side by the weight of on pressing bodies and I could not make space to look down at my feet; but I could feel the undulating rise and fall. with the hidden ankle busting potholes and trips waiting unseen everywhere.
It was hot, unbearably so, no breeze could survive here. I just wanted to fill my lungs with cool air and breathe.
Why was I here? Where was I going? I couldn't tiptoe to get a view over the heads of the crowd and my view was nothing but shadowed heads and where there was a gap, a bright shine giving nothing.
I wanted to turn around, to make some space - I NEEDED to make some space and just think. My mind was racing and I wanted to rest. I couldn't sit down, couldn't stop, couldn't think.
A waved pushed forward, I was bumped from behind and fell against the man in front. I skipped to keep my feet moving and a shallow trench caught my toe and propelled me forward so my chin hit the guys back. He showed no sign of feeling it but continued the motion forward. Ripples of the wave moved through the immediate area and I was pushed to left. I was now off my footing, still wedged upright by the claustrophobic enduring closeness. I was being dragged by the crowd, they were treading on my feet which were trailing behind me, I was being pulled down, I tried to raise my arms to hold onto the people around me and pull myself back up but they were stuck uselessly at my side. When my bent knees hit the floor I was struck by pain but forced to continue the slow march. Terror was filling me pouring through me as easy as a jug of water filling a vase, I knew with clear knowledge that I was going down and I was going to be trampled by the unrelenting masses. I cried out for help but my voice did not carry, no one behind or to my side acknowledged my distress, each stumbling themselves and staggering ever forward.
Another wave of momentum hit me with a speed only describable as geographical in its slowness and unstoppable power, I was on the rock floor, face against the ground, feet stepping on m
e, others falling over me, a weight building up on me....................
The weight eased. I got to my knees and a hand reached under my arm and a strength raised me to my feet. Behind me was Xanthic, dressed in his long iridescent black coat and although he is easily a head taller than me, he effortlessly stood straight without compromise under the low ceiling. He stood like a rock in a river, a V shaped wake splitting either side of him, everyone mindlessly acknowledging his presence giving him room before re-emerging around us after a short distance, no eye contact, no touch, no words uttered for support or against his restriction in the crush almost like shoppers ignoring traffic wardens on their way back to the car parks, everyone knows they are there but no one wanting to recognise their place in the community.
"It’s not your time yet." he said to me, look straight at me. I thought I could see his eyes strong and bright behind his smoke mirrored glasses.
He offered his hand and I took it, the crowd rushed past at motorway speed, not running but in the same steady onward inch footfalls but at an incredible pace; that or time for us had slowed to a near stop whilst everything carried on around. A corridor of emptiness seamlessly developed leading away from us and Xanthic led me along it holding my hand. A bell tolled and a deep darkness enveloped us.
Monday 5th May
Tell me why I don't like Mondays. 07:00
I was back in my hospital bed. New bandages adorned my body alongside the old, although they were soiled and showing rusted red drippings in places; it would be easier and quicker to list the places I did not hurt - or at least could not feel anything untoward at this time.
Diary Of An Occult Resolution Assistant Page 5