The shadows had followed him of course and were now moving around just outside; some even forayed into the bar, their tendrils licking the area like an octopus searching for food. They moved about the patrons and teased the walls, the food, and even the lights; the latter objects didn't appear to dim with the movements of these hallucinations, and James took a moment to enjoy the surreal feel of lights that did not waver with the addition of shadows across the bulbs.
When James turned back to the woman, he saw that she was oblivious to the man next to her, even as he attempted to garner her attention with a wild story. Curious, James turned to the shadows and then to the woman. It took two or three glances before it fully dawned on him that she was watching the shadows just as he was.
"What can I get you?" the barman asked and broke James's reverie.
"Umm, sorry. Just a porter, if you have one?"
The barman nodded and went to fetch the brew. James looked back at the woman, who had finally returned her gaze to her companion, but he could see her sneak the occasional sideways glances to the entryway. Now that she wasn't looking at him, James began to scrutinize her. He noticed her hair color, her lips, her clothing, and he could almost smell the lilac on her. As he watched, she almost seemed to blur before him, and taking a deep breath he blinked consciously to clear his vision.
Like the blood pit from just a few days before, his vision zoomed in and changed. Now, he could see her differently. Gone was her human appearance, and in its place was a radiating figure. She was still very much human in form, but she had a purple and black glow about her. Her eyes seemed larger, the ears were pointed, her hands appeared more slender, and her movements much more graceful.
Flashes filled his mind, and he could see images from her life. They played across his vision superimposed on the demon as she continued to chat with her male companion. She was old, perhaps a thousand years, and she had seen much of life. Images of war and famine flashed through his mind, but also singing, and dancing, and the joy of people's lives. He then saw sex; there was a lot of that.
Soon, the images coalesced and he found that he could learn anything he wanted about her. He also knew what she was. He didn't know how he knew, but he knew—the information was readily available for his inspection. She was a succubus: a demon that fed off sexual energy.
His beer was brought to him, and he drank it while he watched her. He didn't consider the woman as a beast per se but as a study in psychology. His mind had plagued him and even invented a description of what she was. At least that was the only reason he could determine for his knowing what she was. His mind was creating a narrative for him to accompany his visions, but where that narrative came from he could not say. He had heard of succubi of course, but not to this level of detail and much like his enjoyment of the shadows a few nights before, James began to enjoy the experience, taking the newfound knowledge in stride.
Staying remarkably calm, James blinked again and consciously flipped from one image to another, much as he had done before at the blood pit. He found it interesting and took his time as he spied on her. He had met this woman or beast before, but he couldn’t exactly remember when or how. He then smiled as a wicked thought occurred to him.
He blinked again and saw her in that radiating form, and taking a chance, he dove into her mind to recall images of himself. He may not be able to remember her, but she might remember him, and he had to smile at the brilliance of the idea. Of course, that's exactly what he got paid for—finding unusual solutions to common problems, and using someone else's memories to trigger your own, certainly fit that description.
James was enjoying this descent into madness. The past year had been spent fretting over his life and possible death, then dealing with the ethics of falsifying a clinical trial, not to mention having to deal with Jonah on a much more regular basis than any human should be forced to. Now, as his madness allowed him some freedom of emotion, he journeyed into his hallucination and let it take him where it willed.
He zoomed mentally past the barman and across the small expanse of the room and into the mind of the demon before him. He thought only of himself, his face, and his apartment as he searched her soul. The information came easily enough.
He had been in a bar, very similar to this one, when she had approached him. He watched himself through her eyes as she baited him and then led him to his very own apartment. He saw them enter the lobby and noticed that the attendant ignored them; somehow their arrival had gone unnoticed. Up the elevator and into his apartment they had gone, where she moved quickly. The sex was marvelous, and when he climaxed she had fed.
He could almost feel her hands upon his head as he probed her mind. But something had gone wrong. It had been an odd experience for her, and she had gasped from fear of the unknown. Something was not right with her prey, but she didn't know what, and James could hear and feel her words just as she had said it that night.
"You're not human," she had screamed.
She was confused but finished her task nonetheless. When she was done, she departed quickly, leaving him disoriented and with a mind that would not recall the events of the evening. Continuing to probe her mind, James could feel her walk the hallway and take the elevator, passing the unseeing attendant in the lobby. By the time she reached the street she had forgotten all about him; apparently not an uncommon reaction for a succubus.
That idea made James realized that he wasn’t seeing her memories, he was seeing her life. She didn't need to be cognizant of her past. It didn't matter that she couldn’t recall him. For some reason, James just knew all about the event. Any item that he wished to know about her became nothing but a chapter in a book that he could flip through at his discretion. He took a moment, as he remained in her mind, and watched her feed on others, then he watched her sleep within the shadows of alleys and trees. He watched her as she moved across Europe, avoiding the burning of witches and many other dangers that the church provided.
James believed he could have remained all night, but her task was nearly complete. She had captured her prey for the night, and the couple was making ready to leave. As they did so, James fetched his phone from his pocket and went to Google Scholar. He made his searches and then logged into the medical sites that popped up. It didn't take long to find what he needed.
Damn, he thought as he searched for the raw data.
Most of the fMRI data was on female orgasms, but there was enough for him to get the basic idea. The human mind, as the medical institutions were quickly learning, became very active during orgasm. In fact, no other activity showed as much activity on the fMRI scans. Cursing at the lack of information, James wished for the actual scans of the patients but had to limit himself to the clinical notes and summaries. Shaking his head, he put his phone away. He would research this further when he could, but for the moment he decided to let the matter drop.
His new demon friend had left the bar and didn't even glance at him. James paid for his beer, finished the last bit from the glass and followed. He wasn’t certain why, other than a morbid curiosity to encourage his madness.
They all headed north and went several blocks before turning off in another direction. As they turned, the succubus took notice of James, who had made no attempt to conceal his efforts to follow them. Her face became concerned and James worried for a moment. Was she worried about him? Was it the shadows? Or, most likely, was he crazy, and this woman was justifiably concerned about a stalker?
Oh, please just ignore me, he thought with a bit of apprehension, and suddenly she did.
She appeared momentarily confused. She looked about herself as if she were attempting to regain her bearings. Spying her companion, who was trying to pull her across the street in order to cross with the walk sign, she came to her senses, put a smile on her face, and then moved along without a care in the world.
James didn't follow; he just watched them as they left. He thought about warning the young man but stopped when he imagined how that convers
ation would go:
"She's just using you for sex," he would say.
"Great," would be the reply.
"You don't understand. She's a demon and will suck the orgasmic energy from you."
"You mean she'll kill me?"
"No, not at all. She'll give you a fantastic orgasm, feed on your neural energy, and then leave you alone."
"Fantastic, thanks for the great news."
No. Even if the man would believe such a rant, he would most likely still have sex with her. Men were often stupid that way. After a moment, James decided to head home but stopped abruptly when he spied an odd shadow. It stood apart from the rest, and unlike them, it was moving away from him. It seemed oddly determined as it wound its way down the street. James took a closer look at it, and his head took a mental punch as he did.
It's a shade, he thought.
Much like with the succubus, the information leaped into his mind. He just knew what the thing was, but couldn't say how he knew, he just did. Unlike the other shadows, this form was a beast in and of itself. Shadowlike in appearance, but a demon in its own right—much like the succubus—and tonight it was on a hunt.
James followed it quickly and curiously and soon found himself at the Olympic Sculpture Park. They passed several bushes and the odd art work that lined the pathways. Eventually, they made their way down the gravel path and to the large metal structures on the east end. These giant iron forms were two stories high, resembled large waves, and made one feel small next to them. Through those waves rode the shade, searching for something.
James could almost feel it himself. Amongst the sculpture was a weakening life, and it drew the beast to it; somewhere, huddled in the darkness of these mammoth structures, someone was dying.
The shade was gone, and James had to walk in and around the undulating structures in order to regain sight of it. When he did, he discovered that it had encircled a prone girl, perhaps twenty-one or twenty-two years old. She was somewhat obscured to him, but James blinked and could suddenly see through the shade. It was feeding as it held its prey captive.
James stood several feet away and watched in awe. He kneeled and brought himself within direct line of sight of the lone human figure and the apparition that was attracted to it. He could feel the beast as he watched it. It was ancient, much older than the succubus, and for the last several centuries it had lain dormant. It had been awakened as a bear awakes for summer, and it had moved slowly across the waters to a new land, drawn by an unexplained urge. Now it needed food, and a dying human was perfect for its need. All this knowledge came easily to James; this was a shadow with a soul, and that soul was now revealed.
The shade moved its tendril into the girl, entering through her eyes. It invaded her mind and could feel her life weakening as its essence merged with hers. James was fascinated. The beast was mindless in spirit, but as James probed it he could begin to feel cells and neurons as well as circulating blood and a weak heartbeat. It was as if the beast was becoming a conduit for the girl's physical state.
After a moment, James suddenly realized what he was doing. He stood rapidly and made his way to the girl. He may be going mad, but that was no reason to let someone suffer. He stooped to her and put his finger to her throat. Oblivious to the needs and wants of the shade conjured by his schizophrenic mind, he checked her pulse and then felt for a fever.
The girl gasped suddenly and flailed about.
"Relax, I'm just here to help," the words had little effect until he repeated them a few times. She then calmed slightly.
He examined her as best as he could in the dim light and knew she was bad. James had seen enough methamphetamine addicts to recognize a bad reaction, and he knew very well the damage that could be done by those drugs. She was labored in her breathing, and her heart was arrhythmic; he could discern that easily by its loud and rapid beating.
He felt a push against his mind accompanied by a slight mental punch. The girl began to flail more wildly and James had to grip her firmly.
"Fight it!" he whispered to her calmly.
His mind exploded in light and the girl gasped as she convulsed. Her back arched, and he had a difficult time maintaining his grip as she began to spasm. In fear of being hurt, he let her go and gave her room to convulse while ensuring she didn't hurt herself. A guttural scream came into his mind, and he knew the shade was in pain. It tried to release itself but couldn’t—it was trapped. Its tendrils, which it had been used to feed, now kept it captive as its food source fought the invasion. The creature began to claw for its very survival.
James' mind snapped back to reality, and he turned her to her side, laying her out. He split his mental energies and concentrated on caring for his new ward while battling the images in his mind. The girl was real, he knew that. However, the shadow images were symptoms of a psychotic break and he had to fight them, at least until this young life was saved.
When the girl began to calm, he retrieved his phone and dialed.
"911, what is the nature of your emergency?"
"My name is James Connor. I'm currently at the Olympic Sculpture Park at the base of the Wake exhibit. I have a young female in her early twenties. She appears to be suffering from a drug overdose..."
He continued to give the pertinent details, and when he was assured that an ambulance was on its way, he passed on medical information for the soon-to-be arriving paramedics.
James put the phone down, leaving it on speakerphone as per the request of the 911 operator. He pulled off his jacket and placed it under the girl's head. She began to convulse again and he moved away, allowing her safe movement while still ensuring her head was supported. He mentally timed the length of the seizure and fought for his own clarity of thought as the shade screamed and fought for release.
His mind continued to play tricks on him. He could see her eyes become vacant and then translucent. The shade had used the eyes as an entry point, and now that it fought for release, those eyes bore the brunt of the assault. James continued to track the girl's vitals. Her heart was still racing, but her seizure began to calm.
"You’re going to be okay. Help is on the way," he told her.
She began flailing again, and then put her hands to her eyes in an attempt to claw them out. James saw her draw blood and quickly grabbed her hands away. He held her wrists tightly and hoped that he could contain her.
Fight this, he thought to her wishfully.
His mind reeled again in pain as the shade punched him mentally. The girl gasped, arched up to a sitting position, and buried herself into his chest. He held her wrists tightly and fought the urge to release his grip. He wished to put his hands over his ears; the shade was screaming in agony, causing him pain.
The girl remained close, and he could hear her heavy breathing next to his ear. As they sat in a lover's embrace, the remaining tendrils of the shade that extended from her body wrapped around him, and he could begin to feel its primal fear. It had never experienced food that fought back in such a manner. In the past, its food had fought for life, for escape, and on occasion it had won. However, this was different. This was a counterattack.
The shade couldn’t understand what was happening to it, it was too simple of a creature. James, on the other hand, felt all sides of the battle: hers, the creature's, and his own. He likened the experience to a shark that had finally been baited, hooked, and now fought for freedom; this particular shark before him was losing.
James added his will to the battle, and the viciousness lessened. The girl began to calm slightly, and when he felt it was safe, he lowered her to the ground gently. When he was certain she would not claw at her face again, James let her go.
James' mind became acutely aware of his surroundings. He was cognizant of the girl's continued struggle, the 911 operator on his phone who was asking for an update, and the now approaching paramedics. James couldn’t see them, but he could hear them calling out.
"Over here," he called. "Follow my voice. We’re on the far
side of the structure." The paramedics continued to listen as James called out, and eventually they found him. As they approached, he stood and backed away to allow them room to work.
James picked up his phone, quickly informed the operator of the paramedics' arrival, and thanked her for her service.
"What happened here?" asked one of the men.
"Unclear, I just happened to be enjoying the park at night when I came across her."
"Lucky for her that you did."
"Perhaps, but she really needs a hospital. At the moment, you gentleman are more important for her than I am."
"Any idea what caused this?"
James looked at the girl. The shade was now difficult to distinguish from the person that lay before him. It had become infused with her, and as it did so, he could see into her mind, and into her body. It was almost as if he were seeing a cross between an x-ray and an MRI. Her veins and bones had become a dark purple hue all the way down her legs and arms, throughout her circulatory system, and into her heart—and of course those eyes. Unlike the succubus, who appeared human in one vision and demoness in another, this girl had only one vision for James, and it was a blended mix.
He thought for a moment and attempted a controlled eye blink, searching for her mind. Images of the girl came to him, similar in form to the ones that he had envisioned with the succubus. He watched curiously as they played across his vision. He saw her offer a man on the street a silver necklace, the man then repaid the kindness with crystal meth. It had been hours ago, but the effects of the drug were still strong.
"I believe it’s crystal meth, or some variation. I imagine she's having a bad reaction to whatever chemical mixture was used. I've seen enough garbage on the street to know the reaction could be caused by a bad batch. Even if the dosage is not lethal, the poor chemical composition could still kill her.
"Are you a cop?" a paramedic asked.
"No," James replied. "Just a consultant, but I've conferred with the police before. It's what I do."
Celtics Rising: Birth of an Oracle Page 4