I made it to the end of the hall and didn’t see a single room or door. The only option was a right turn, and I took it without hesitation, hurrying through the house. There was another long hall, and at the very end was an opening with a dim orange light that danced and flickered beyond. I stepped up my pace as I hurried down this corridor, this time passing several closed wooden doors and even a staircase midway down the hall.
I slowed my pace as I came to the end of the hall and approached the open doorway. A strange mix of scents wafted into the hallway: Cinnamon, Sage, a hint of mint, and a few others that I couldn’t identify. It was so overwhelming my eyes watered, and I wondered how it was possible that I hadn’t smelled the potent mix the moment I stepped inside of the house.
“I’m not getting any younger, boy.” The old woman croaked from the other side of the opening. “Don’t make me wait any longer. Come.”
I stepped into what turned out to be the kitchen, with a stove and small refrigerator just a few feet off to the right side of the opening. The old woman herself sat at the circular kitchen table on the far left side of the room with her back facing me. Fati sat across from her, nervously fidgeting with a small china teacup, eyes down.
The flickering light and scent that filled the room came from the single candle resting in a pool of slowly expanding wax at the center of the table.
"Yes, ma'am," I said, and shuffled around the table towards the single free chair beside Fati against the black painted wall, and sat. The old woman was quiet until I settled, and then leaned across the table and glared at me with her greyed over eyes. She pressed both of her knobby hands to the table and pushed herself to her feet.
“Are you thirsty, boy?” The old woman asked as she took her cup and turned to start walking to the stove.
"No thank you, ma'am," I said, but as soon as the words escaped my mouth, Fati elbowed me hard in the ribs. I glanced at Fati and flinched at the look she gave me. "I think I will have some of your tea. Thank you."
“I didn’t offer you tea.”
I paused, glanced down at Fati’s cup and confirmed it was indeed tea in her cup. I looked back up at the old woman. “I’ll have some of whatever you would offer, ma’am.
Ms. Bezi laughed. “You have no idea who I am, nor where you are.”
“No, ma’am. I don’t.”
“That wasn’t a question, boy.”
I glanced over at Fati again, but she wouldn’t meet my eye. She stared at the contents of her cup with a distant look on her face.
“Tell me, boy.” The old woman said as she closed the refrigerator and placed a carton of orange juice on the counter. “How much do you love Fatima?”
I blinked, unable to formulate a response as I watched her pour both glasses. The question was absurd.
“That was a question, boy.”
I heard Red’s deep rumble of a laugh from my left. I turned to see him standing against the corner, beside the window that had a black garbage bag taped across it to block out all light, with his arms crossed and foot kicked back against the wall. “I told you this wasn’t a good idea, D.”
Glass shattered across the room, and I turned to see the old woman pressed against the stove, trembling. Her milky grey eyes bulged, staring directly in Red’s direction. I squinted as I looked from the old woman to Red several times. The reality slowly dawned on me, and my own eyes went wide.
Fati stood and looked from the old woman to me, and then to Red's direction. "Ms. Bezi, babe, what happened?"
"Fatima!" the old woman croaked as she spun around with shocking speed, reached into a large porcelain jar on the counter in between the refrigerator and stove. "Leave this house, child. Immediately!”
“What?” Fati asked, once again looking from me to the old woman.
The old woman pulled her hand free from the jar and flung her arm in a full arc, filling the air with a thick black cloud the consistency of talcum powder.
The old woman shrieked at Red, leveling a knobbed finger directly in his direction. "You are not welcome here. Begone!"
Red's grin melted to a frown as the black substance crept closer to us.
“What?” Fati asked again, now even more confused.
“Stupid child! Leave this house. Now.”
A high, raspy sound came from Red, a feral sound I’d never heard before. But an instant later Red straightened, and then stepped back, through the wall, out of the house.
Fatima had already slid around the table by the time I turned back around, and she bolted for the door. I scrambled after her, but the old woman whirled and leveled her finger at me.
“You will stay right where you are, boy.”
Fati and I both paused, but the look the old woman cut her way made Fati dash out of the room with only a fleeting glance my way.
The old woman slammed the door shut behind Fati and stood glaring at me, eyes wide and trembling as her rage multiplied before my eyes. As the thick cloud reached me, the acrid fumes burned the back of my throat and stung my eyes, making it hard even to keep my eyes open as the tears filled my vision, forcing me to blink and squeeze my lids shut for relief. I coughed and wiped the tears from my cheeks as the old woman studied me through the ebon cloud that was somehow still thickening.
That was enough. I had no desire to stay in that house another second. I was leaving, even if I had to force the old woman out of my way. But then she laughed, and her shrill voice chilled me beyond anything else I had seen so far that night. But, for some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to flee—not when she clearly saw Red. I needed to understand how that was possible before I left her.
"You saw Red," I said into my sleeve with a muffled voice. “How is that possible?”
“Red? Are you truly so familiar with creatures of the nether?”
“What?” I shook my head in frustration. “ Please, I have to know if you saw something or—"
“You bring a devil past my wards… now you are so bold as to question me, in my own home?"
“Listen,” I waved my hands in front of my face to try to get some relief, but the near opaque cloud had filled the entire room, and was thickening still, making it difficult to breathe. “I’m not trying to question anything but myself. I don’t know anything about devils or the nether or anything else. Somehow you can see Red when nobody else ever has in my entire life. I need to—"
The old woman’s cackling laugh cut me off again. “You are not crazy, boy. What you are is a consort of the nether, even if unknowingly." The woman's voice took on a thick, authoritative tone just as the cloud smothered the last of the visible light from the candle on the table, leaving only the rough silhouettes of her body and the other objects in the room.
"This can't be happening," I mumbled under my breath, and then coughed again, more intense this time. I soon felt claustrophobic and short of breath, despite my deep gasps. The old woman laughed again, this time a manic sound on the verge of hysteria. It was time to leave.
I upended the table and dashed towards the direction I knew the door had been. Unfortunately for both the old woman and me, it meant she was directly in the line of my exit.
“I am not finished with you, boy.” The old woman said as I closed the distance to her.
I pushed past her but was shocked at how rigid her frail looking body was. It took a grunt of effort to barely move her enough for me to get to the door when it should have been enough force to toss the old woman to the far side of the kitchen.
I fumbled at the door for the longest few seconds of my life before I finally found the knob and flung it free. The old woman shrieked something, but I couldn’t make out a single word because I was already rushing down the dark hall at a full sprint, sucking in lung-fulls of clean air to fuel me faster. I felt someone hard on my heels, as if being chased, but both times I stole glances over my shoulder as I raced through the house, there was nothing but the blackened corridor.
I was out of the house in seconds—just in time to see Karl screech
to a stop on the sidewalk just in front of the gates to the house. This time, as I leaped from the short porch and shot a glance over my shoulder, the old woman was there, standing inside her open door, just over an arm's length behind me.
I raced across the lawn to my waiting car, pulled open the door, and then dove into the soft seat. Karl peeled off before I even righted myself, accelerating down the bumpy sidewalk for over half a block until we came to a large enough gap in parked cars to swerve back onto the street.
My mind didn’t stop racing until we were back on I95 South, going seventy miles per hour back to Manhattan. I finally glanced at Fati sitting across from me. She was staring at me with red-ringed eyes with a mix of fear and confusion on her face.
“Darien, I’ve never seen Ms. Bezi get like that before. And the way you fled the house…what happened in there?”
It was only now, after Fati asked the question, my mind snapped from the terrifying grip of the experience. I had no idea what happened and couldn't begin to give her an answer.
"Darien," Fati said with a calm expression. "What happened in there?"
The divider rolled down, and Karl cleared his throat. "Thought I'd give you a few minutes to collect yourself, the way you ran out of there and all. Should we head to the hospital instead of back to the apartment?"
“Hospital?” I asked, confused.
“Yeah. I saw all that smoke seeping out from the panels of the house, which is why I decided to pull up to the gate. I thought there was some type of fire.”
"No." I sighed. "Let's head home, Karl. We're both fine."
Karl nodded, held my eye through the rear-view mirror for a few seconds, and then rolled back up the partition. I said another silent thanks for Karl’s savviness; he knew just how much, or how little in this case, to push things.
Fati had turned to the car window by the time I glanced back her way, completely zoned out. I sighed, thankful to not have to answer any more questions from her. I turned and faced my window and replayed the events again and again.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“DARIEN, WE NEED to discuss what happened back there. You can’t just pace a ditch around the living room all night. Sit.” She patted the seat next to her. “Come on, hun.”
I stopped short, glanced towards the spot next to her, and then shook my head as I continued walking the perimeter of the living room. Where the hell was Red? It was him that I needed to talk to. How the hell could that old shaman see him? Did she see him? Red was a figment of my imagination…just a figment of my imagination…
No matter how many times I tried to tell myself differently, there was no denying the fact the old woman saw him. She did, and I obsessed over the implications for so long when I finally looked back up at Fati, she had dozed off on the couch. Nothing I saw that night made sense, but one thing I hadn't considered until just now was the fact that Fati was shaken before I even walked inside. Something the old witch said to her shook her.
“Fati, babe, hey.” I walked over to the couch and sat down beside her.
Fati opened her eyes slightly, and then recognition flashed across her face, and then she perked up. "You finally got tired of your pacing?"
“Yeah, I got a little carried away there. I was lost in thought for a few more minutes than I anticipated.”
"Minutes?" She said, raising her arched brow. "More like an hour."
I pursed my lips, but when I glanced down at my watch, sure enough, she was right. It was well past midnight—which meant I had been dwelling in my own head closer to two hours.
“Yeah, you’re right. But, I need to ask you a question. You were in there with the old woman for o—”
“Ms. Bezi.” Fati corrected.
“Ugh, right, right. You were in there with her for a long time. What did she say to you? She freaked me out more than I had ever been before in my life, but you were too before I even got there.”
Fati shook her head. “I can’t share her readings. She strictly forbids it.”
“Come on, Fati. We don’t hide anything from each other. It’s important. What did she say.”
Fati shook her head and stood from the couch. "That's something I realized as you were walking your laps. I had no right to question what happened between you two in there, even if I witnessed some of it. It is for you and you alone.”
“Fati, come on. You are the one that brought me there when clearly it was you she wanted to see. The least you can do is help me make heads or tails out of this.”
"I'm sorry, hun. You're right. I shouldn't have brought you. Don't worry. I'll never invite you back there again."
“Fatima, you can’t just le—”
“I’m sorry, hun. But I won’t talk about it anymore. Now, I have to get some rest. I'll be back up in just a couple of hours, so I’ll need all the sleep I can get for my shift. I’d suggest you get some yourself.”
I watched her leave and didn’t try to stop her. I’d seen that look on her face more times than I could count; she had made her decision, and there wasn’t a damn thing I was going to do or say to get her to open up to me. I sighed in resignation and leaned back into the couch.
Where the fuck is red? Of course, he doesn't show up now, when I need to see him. I breathed through a spike of frustration. But what the hell would I say to him anyway? The crazy old woman claimed she could see him—even went as far as calling him a devil. I can't remember a single time in my entire life where anyone else has even hinted at seeing him.
I clenched my fist. I wish I hadn’t let my fear get the better of me; she had wanted to talk further, and now I have no idea what she did or didn’t know, what she would or wouldn’t have told me. I should have questioned her when I had the cha—
I sat bolt upright on the couch as the thought struck me. I could go back. No, I have to go back, to know for sure.
Glancing at my watch one more time, I stood and headed for the elevator. It was a quarter to one. Going back now would take me a half hour both directions, let alone however long it would take to pry any information out of the woman, but I didn't have much choice.
There was a chance Fati might try talking me out of going back tonight, so I didn’t risk waking her. I waited until after I stepped onto the elevator and the doors closed to send Fati a text, letting her know where I had gone should she wake up and find that I’d left before I can make it back. Calling Karl flashed across my mind. After all, I had rented him and his family an apartment in the building for just such short-notice occasions. But no, the old man needed his sleep. Besides, I didn’t want to be around anyone.
The elevator opened, and I stepped out into the evenly lit garage that more resembled a high-end showroom. Luxury cars of all varieties filled the rows of spacious circular parking spots—of which, most hadn't seen the city streets since they arrived from the dealership. I had the three spots in the rear—closest to the freight elevator that lifts the cars up to street level.
It wasn’t until I was doing eighty-five up the Westside highway in the Chiron, smoothly weaving in and out of lanes as I passed cars, that I settled on what exactly it was I would do when I got there. It was simple, really—a piece of advice Red had said to me countless times: don’t let my emotions cloud my purpose. I was there for answers, and no matter what freaky shit the old woman tried to pull, I wouldn’t leave without them.
I pulled up to the house in almost half the time. It’s funny how small the city feels when there’s no traffic slowing you down. I didn’t even bother finding a spot, double parking beside the same totaled car that was propped up in front of the house from earlier. I wouldn’t stay long. The street was so quiet I highly doubted anyone would be driving down either way.
I stepped out into the humid summer night, bolstered by pure determination. I hurried around the car and onto the property, and all but ran through the front yard and leaped up onto the short porch, feeling my pulse race in anticipation. But when I raised my fist to knock on the door, I noticed it ajar and paused.
I eased it open and poked my head inside. The interior looked precisely as it had earlier, but gone was the feeling of dread and foreboding that had almost turned me away. Chalking it up to my imagination trying to get the better of me again, I slipped inside without hesitation.
“Hello?” I called out as I crossed the small foyer and entered the first hall. “Ms. Bezi, it’s Darien. I need to speak with you.”
Straining my ears for any response, I worked my way deeper into the house. When I made it to the end of the first hall and turned the corner, I called out to her again, and again received no response. Unlike the first time moving through the house, there was full darkness down the hall that led to the kitchen, with not even the flicker of light that had guided me the first time. The mix of dark and eerie silence created a stillness within the house that was every bit as unsettling as my first visit. I noticed myself slowing, beginning to hesitate, just like the first time, but my determination flared, propelling me faster with a burst of adrenalin.
I pulled out my phone, noted the several text message notifications from Fati on the screen, and turned on the phone’s flashlight and frowned as I noticed the black soot-like substance she had thrown into the air earlier had now stained the walls, ceiling, and floor, even way out into the hall where I was.
The kitchen door at the end of the hall was open. I decided to try that room first, rationalizing that it would somehow be less of a violation of her space to not have to go exploring any other places I hadn't already seen. As I made my way down the hall, the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end as I relived the eerie experience, but I steeled my resolve and marched down the hall and into the kitchen.
It was empty. I did a quick inspection of the room and tried the light switch I found on the wall beside the door, flicking it up and down with no success. I shrugged and continued using my phone to get a look around, and only just realized there was none of the black sediment anywhere in the room. Everything was cleaned impeccably—the floors, counters, table…everything; it was a stark contrast from the outer wall.
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