I slammed both hands down atop the closed flap. “None of your business. Lots of stuff. I travel, remember? I ditched the luggage a long time ago. If I need it, it’s in this bag.”
“Everything you need?”
“Well… all the essentials. Everything from clean underwear to my debit card.”
“Wait… what’s this?”
He pulled out a little pink square that was peeking through the open zipper.
“That’s English tea.”
“Tea? That’s an essential?”
“It is to me.”
“And this?”
He pulled something white out. I grabbed it.
“Aforementioned underwear. Now stop.” I stuffed everything back in except the tiny flashlight. “You can’t always find decent underwear or English tea. I’ve got my passport, different kinds of money, a toothbrush, my pink sandals, a water bottle, Pooh Bear, my shawl. You know… stuff like that.”
“So you buy everything else and just, what… leave it when you go?”
“Pretty much, yeah. I don’t really do the whole hotel thing anymore. I prefer to stay in Temples, shelters, people’s homes on occasion. I buy what I need when I get there, then I give it away when I go.”
He snorted. “You give your short little dresses to monks?”
I rolled my eyes. “Yes… and they’re not short. Temples and shelters are the best places to stay. I cook and clean while I’m there—get to know most of the people. That silly little cotton dress I found in an open market for like three American dollars, it’s precious enough to a girl living in a shelter that she would cry tears of joy over it. Monks—they always know of someone who can use my things, someone who really needs them. I don’t live extravagantly—don’t have the funds for it, really. And I give back every chance I get. It’s no big deal.”
He hugged me then, but didn’t say a word.
“Well, wish me luck.”
He sniffed. “I’ll be waiting right here.”
I switched on the flashlight. It didn’t make much of a dent, but it was better than going in blind.
“Wait, Pooh.”
“Huh?”
“There’s some stuff I forgot to tell you.”
I switched the light back off. “Okay… Like what? Rules?”
“More like… guidelines.”
“I’m listening.”
“Don’t talk to him.”
“Don’t talk to him?”
“That’s right. Just get his blood and get back out. Don’t tell him anything about yourself, and don’t ask him any questions.”
“…Okaay. But I thought you said he would probably demand something of me.”
“He can’t demand, but I’m all but certain he’ll ask. Try your best to just ignore him, if you can. Oh, and I’m not real sure you can take that.” He motioned toward the pink metal cylinder in my hand. “The light may go out, or simply stop you. Kind of like how I’m stopped right now. But I’m not sure. Oh, and don’t leave any of your belongings down there. You hear me?”
“Yeah. But I thought you said he was bound. What’s he gonna do? Riffle through my backpack and skip around in my undies?”
“Pooh, I’m being serious.”
“I know you are and it’s freaking me out a little. I was just starting to feel better about what I gotta do. Don’t lay all this heavy crap on me right after we were just laughing and teasing each other.”
“I know. Sorry. I just worry about you.” He kissed my forehead. “You’ll do fine. And I’ll be right here. Promise.”
I smiled and nodded before turning back to the waiting darkness.
Well crap. Here goes.
*****
It wasn’t that it was really hard to breathe—just old air. I kept my vision focused on the little beam of light in front of me. I didn’t scan the walls or look anywhere else. Just where my next step should be taken. It left me totally torch blind, yeah, but I didn’t really want to see what creepy crawly things might be running along the walls or—heaven forbid—the ceiling.
The narrow tunnel went down a couple hundred more yards before it opened into a large cavernous room. At least, that’s what it felt like. There was no sound, no wind, no dripping water. Only silence… and darkness.
When the passageway opened up, I looked to my left. Nope, only a wall.
“I guess it’s this way, then.”
My whisper didn’t echo, but it sounded a lot louder than it should have.
Soooo creepy.
The dust-filled light only stretched out about three feet in front of me. I took small, slow steps—didn’t want to fall into a hole or something.
When I heard a tiny movement out ahead of me, I jumped and then froze—unintentionally holding my breath as I slowly scanned the darkness.
Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. “H-hello?”
Silence was the only answer I received from my pitiful little whimper.
I took two more steps. “H-hello? Azazel? Is that you?”
“Douse your flame.”
“Wha-what?”
“Douse… your flame.”
The voice was tiny, strained, dry.
“Do I have to?”
“…Yes.”
“But… but I’m scared. I’m scared I might fall in a hole or step on a snake.”
He didn’t answer. I took another step.
“Douse the flame.”
I froze. “Please… please don’t make me turn out the light. I won’t hurt you. I promise. Just… let me keep the light on.”
“…No… holes.”
“No holes?” I glanced around nervously. The darkness was palpable. “But… please?”
“…No.”
I sighed and closed my eyes as I reluctantly pushed the little black button on the end of my flashlight.
“…Thank… you.”
I immediately started trembling all over. When I opened my eyes and it seemed even darker than when they were closed, panic set in.
“Holy shhh— I can’t do this. I can’t do this. Heaven help me. I can’t do this. I’m turning around. I’m turning— how many steps was it to the tunnel? Fifteen? Seventeen? Oh crap—”
“Shhh…”
I froze again. No. No. No. No. No.
“…Come.”
“B-but, I can’t come. My legs won’t move.”
“Shhh… Now… come.”
I barely scooted my feet, just a little bit. “I can’t. Please don’t make me do this.”
“…Come.”
I put my hands out, reaching desperately into nothingness. But no matter how hard I tried, I simply could not take another step.
Okay, just calm down. Caalllm dooown. Okay… baby steps. My body refused to obey my terrified thoughts. “There is no darker dark than this dark.”
“…Come.”
I slowly bent down until I was on my knees. What are you going to do, idiot? If I crawl, I can’t use my hands. I’ll bang my head on a rock or something.
“…Come.”
“Give me a second… jeez.”
I took a deep breath, then… started scooting along on my knees—arms fully extended and fingers frantically searching for… anything.
“Where are you?”
“Just… come.”
His voice sounded different this time. It was still coarse and dry, but higher, maybe.
“Are you… are you laughing at me? Can you see me?”
“…Closer.”
I may have gone about ten feet on my knees like that before he spoke again.
“More… come.”
He was just a bit to my left, and not too far away. I turned toward his voice.
“Azazel?”
“…Come.”
I sat back on my heels then. I had been desperately fighting the panic and fear, but I just couldn’t hold back my tears any longer.
“Please let me turn the light on. Please?”
“Come.”
“But I can’t come. I’m too scared to
go back, and I’m too scared to get any closer. I’m just… scared.”
He didn’t speak.
“Ugh!” I wiped at my eyes. “I know I’m being ridiculous. I can’t help it. The dark terrifies me. It always has. I mean, I love the nighttime.” I half chuckled through my streaming tears. “The moon, the stars, the cool wind on my face. But the dark? The dark makes my chest hurt and my skin crawl.”
Still, he didn’t speak.
I went forward a tiny bit more before I sat back down on my heels again. I sort of snorted out a laugh. “I’m probably tearing the toes up on my boots. And these are my favorite shoes, too.” I wiped my eyes again. “Azazel? Are you there?”
“…Yes.”
That one little word released a fresh new wave of my tears. I was relieved, yet simultaneously terrified. I know it might sound crazy, but to me… being in the dark with another speaking being was a heck of a lot better than being in the dark all alone.
“…Come.”
I reached out toward him and managed to scoot a bit further.
“…More.”
“Ahh… I’m sooo scared right now. Please don’t have snake eyes. Please don’t have snake eyes.”
I made it a couple more feet before barely brushing against something with my left hand. I froze, then began searching frantically in that area. I seized onto something rough. When the bound Angel squeezed back, I grabbed onto his reaching hand with mine and pulled myself to him.
I pressed the back of his bony hand to my cold cheek. “Thank all that’s holy. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”
“You did splendidly, little one.”
I heard the smile in his voice then. I released a relieved half laugh. “Ha… There you are. I bet you don’t get many visitors down here, huh?”
“Not many, no.”
“Yeah, guess not. Oop… I’m so sorry.” I hurriedly tried to release his hand. “I didn’t mean to—”
“Do not let go,” he whispered.
“Thank you.” I think I smiled then. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.”
“Can I turn the light on now?”
“No.”
“Please?”
“It hurts my eyes.”
“Oh… I’m sorry.”
“What is your name, child?”
“My name? Oh, umm… it’s Jem. Like a gemstone, but with a J.”
“Jem… how unusual.”
“Yeah, I get that a lot. Especially since my whole name is actually Jem Stone. Pffts… My parents probably had a good laugh about that. Your name’s unusual, too.”
“Is it?”
“Well, yeah. You’re the only Azazel I’ve ever read about. And I read. A lot.”
“Is that so?”
“Yep, and I’ve never come across another Azazel.”
“What did you read… about me?”
“Oh, umm…”
“I see.”
“Wait. No. I didn’t mean that in a bad way. I only meant it—”
“Meant it in a good way?”
“Oh, well… no… I guess not.”
He grunted a little. Perhaps it was a laugh.
“Why do you look so sad about it, Jem? Are they your sins? Or mine?”
“Oh, I’m not casting any blame here. It’s not my place to judge. Jeez. I screw up every single day. Three or four times, at least. More on bad days.”
“Truly? How do you sin? Do you kill people?”
“Kill peop— Jeezy peez, no. Not anything like that.”
“Do you sell your body?”
“My bod— No! Nothing of the sort.”
“Then… how do you screw up?”
“Oh… well… I say swear words sometimes, but not where little kids can hear. I mean, unless I like break a nail and say it by accident before I catch myself.”
“Is that so?”
“Yeah. I’ve never stolen anything, but I do try to haggle the price down, if the occasion calls for it. Oh, and if I ever rent a car, you can pretty much bet I’m gonna break the speed limit once or twice. Or… just yield instead of stop. And although I’m not super proud of it or anything, I’ve looked at hoity-toity people and made fun of them in my head.”
“Do you now?”
“Yeah, sometimes. Normally I end up feeling bad about it and slip and pay for their meal without them noticing it.”
“And why would you do that?”
“Why? Because if I told them I was paying for their meal, they’d ask me why. Then I’d feel obligated to tell them that I thought their hair looked goofy or that they had a run up the back of their stockings. I’d rather just pay up and go on.”
“Yes. That does sound like it would be for the best.”
“Yeah, I know, right?”
He didn’t say anything and an awkward sort of silence fell between us.
“…Jem?”
I jumped when he finally spoke. “Y-yes?”
“Not that I am complaining—by any stretch of the imagination—but… why have you come to me this day?”
“Oh yeah, that’s right. Sorry. Apparently, I have been picked as a Witness. Crazy—I know. Oh, I got this key thingy.” I fumbled for the pendant with my one free hand. “But I need you to make it work.”
“That is true.”
“So… that’s why I’m here.”
“I see.”
“That sounded way rude and totally selfish, didn’t it?”
He released my hand then. I started to panic, until he gently cupped my cheek, brushing away my remaining tears with his thumb.
I grabbed back onto him with both hands. His fingertips were rough, calloused. In fact, his whole palm felt that way. I didn’t care. A dry, scratchy hand was better than no hand at all.
“Here… just slice my wrist.”
“Slice your wrist? But… but I can’t do that.”
“Why? Did you forget the dagger?”
“The dagger? No, I didn’t forget it. It’s just, well… it’s not really a dagger anymore.”
“Is that so? Then… what were you given to cut me with, Jem? How will you draw my blood?”
I shivered at the mere thought of having to draw anyone’s blood, much less a total stranger—and in complete darkness, at that.
“My… my thumbnail.”
“Your thumbnail? Hmm… So, we are to become intimate friends then, are we?”
“N-no. Not like that. Not intimate.”
He chuckled softly. “Calm yourself, Jem. I only meant that it will feel much more personal—using one’s own thumbnail instead of a separate blade.”
“Yeah… I guess you’re right. In truth, I hadn’t actually thought it through. One thing’s for sure, there’s no way I can do it in the dark like this. Please let me turn on the light.”
“No.”
I sighed, searching my mind for some comparable alternative. “Oh, wait… I know.”
I released him and started taking my backpack off. I turned around, sitting down on my bottom, feeling blindly through the varied contents.
“Oop…”
I quickly reached back behind me, feeling for him. I think I touched his side. It was hard to tell. It felt as dry and scratchy as his palm did.
“Sorry… Just making sure you’re still there.”
“Worry not, child. I’m not going anywhere.”
“It’s not like I don’t trust you or anything. I just like making sure.”
I turned back to my blind digging. I froze when I felt him gently touch my back, resting his hand there.
“Is that better?” he whispered.
“A-actually… yeah. Thanks.”
“My pleasure.” He paused a moment. “The ornament in your hair is quite lovely.”
“Ornament?” I reflexively reached toward my ponytail. “Oh… it’s a scarf. My dearest friend in the world gave me this scarf—tied it in my hair and kissed my curls. He’s an angel—that one.”
“An Angel gifted you with this?”
“Not a real Angel, no. Just a beautiful man with an even more beautiful soul.”
“He is your mate?”
“Nope.”
“Then—”
“Here it is,” I said, a little louder than I meant to.
“What is it? What do you have? Do not turn on that infernal light.”
“No. No. It’s just a little tealight.”
“Tealight?”
“Yeah. I always try to keep a few handy. You never know when your searching may lead you to a forgotten old room in the back of a monastery. A little tealight is just the thing—a gentle flame to read by. And it sits perfectly fine all on its own. Then… you don’t have to worry about knocking it over and setting anything on fire.” I leaned back, digging through the pocket of my jeans. “Here we go. I’ll just sit the candle over here a ways, not too close.”
The Angel didn’t say anything.
“Listen, if it hurts you at all, I’ll blow it out—quick as a whip. Okay?”
Still, he didn’t speak.
“Azazel?”
“…Very well.”
I lit the tiny wick I had placed a full arm’s length away, then waited.
“Are you good?”
“It does not hurt my eyes. If you must… then leave it lit.”
I sighed, relieved.
“You have nooo idea how grateful I am for this,” I said, turning back around to face him.
I froze, shocked and slack-jawed. Utter horror stole my voice right along with my breath.
“Do you wish to douse the flame now?”
My hands were shaking so badly, the rest of my body began to tremble along with them.
“Please… Must you look at me that way?”
“Wha… What have they done to you?”
“Done to me?”
I couldn’t hide my horror or stop my tears. It was awful. The most pitiful thing I’d ever seen.
Lying on the ground before me was the emaciated remains of what could have been a man… perhaps. Yet, he was so wasted—decrepit and dry—I couldn’t be completely sure.
“Oh… Azazel…”
“Turn from me, Jem.”
“No… I cannot.”
I gently lifted his shrunken hand, the one that had been comforting me in the dark, the one that gave me the strength to retain my sanity. His arm felt as light as air.
“…Why?”
“You know why,” he whispered. “You have read my story for yourself.”
“Yes, but… why all the scars?”
The Journey Page 7