by Virdi, R. R
She was one twisted bitch.
“Oh James,” she called in a singsong voice; he groaned painfully but seemed to be aware of everything around him.
“Norman?” he said in utter shock when he noticed me.
I feebly waved the gun at him in a weak hello gesture.
The Ifrit looked down at James, “pay attention now,” she said, addressing him like a schoolteacher did a child. She walked over to me, dragging her damaged leg and leaking viscous tar like ooze all over the place. When she was directly above me, she slipped the top of her good foot under my body, right under my broken ribs and then she lifted up in one swift motion.
I flipped over onto my back and landed hard, a jolt went coursing through my spine into the back of my ribs and up into the front. I didn’t scream because what would have been the point? I couldn’t have anyways. My mouth hung open in pained silence as a rush of air left my lungs.
“Ooooooh,” she cooed in mock sympathy, “did I hurt you?” she asked in an apologetic tone that was completely insincere.
I tried to reply but all I ended up doing was blinking several times.
What’s Morse code for fuck you?
I felt an intense pressure on my throat as she slid her foot over it and began pressing down. I couldn’t even gasp for air, all of it had been knocked out of me when she flipped me over and now she was pressing down on my windpipe. My right arm began a frenzied dance as it flailed around trying to point the gun at James’ in an attempt to scare her off.
“Oh no,” she chided as she quickly bent over, subsequently putting a bit more pressure on my throat as she slapped the gun out of my hand.
It was odd really, kind of symmetrical in way, I had started this case trapped in a coffin running the risk of dying by suffocation. And now here I was at the end of the case having the life snuffed out of via suffocation.
Symmetry sucks.
I started feeling woozy, it was calming really, everything just sort of began to fade and it was like falling asleep when you were dead tired…it was just so…easy.
I heard something in the background; it seemed so far away, a voice shouting, “stop it! You’re killing him!”
The pressure on my neck subsided, at first my vision began to focus and then I was gasping for air on pure instinct, unable to control my deep frantic breathing which was causing my chest to expand and contract deeply. Oh yeah, that was great for my busted ribs; every necessary breath caused me a bout of agonizing pain.
“What are you doing!” exclaimed James, distraught at what was going on.
“Killing him,” she replied rather nonchalantly, “like you said, remember?” She placed her foot back down on my throat and began pressing again, firmly but much softer than before, she was going to take her time.
I really hated her.
“Stop!” James shrieked…and she did.
The Ifrit jerked her foot up off of my neck like she had just been scalded. “What?” she snarled angrily, “why?”
“I…I changed my mind,” muttered James feebly.
“You…you’ve changed your mind?” the Ifrit said bursting into uncontrollable laughter. “It’s too late for that,” she continued laughing, “look around you,” she said, making a point to gesture towards Ortiz’s body.
“Who…who is that?” he stammered.
“One of your mortal law keepers,” she replied lazily, “I killed her.”
“You…why… what happened?” he continued stammering in confusion.
“Lot’s,” she shrugged, “why so surprised?” she asked, “after all, you did all of this, you let me out, you’re responsible for all of this James.”
“No…I…” he muttered weakly, “Marsha? Where’s Marsha?” he asked loudly, looking around frantically as if he expected to see her here.
“Aww,” the Ifrit purred, “I’m sorry to tell you this, but Marsha is…dead.” She informed him, her face was lighting up in pure amusement at seeing James’ reaction.
“Dead? No…I…” and then he began sobbing uncontrollably.
The Ifrit abandoned me and walked over to him, grasping him gently by the chin and forcing him to look at her as he continued crying heavily. “Oh yes,” she whispered pleasantly, “I killed her but… you knew that would happen eventually didn’t you?” she asked smiling. “I told you there was a price for my power but…I can bring her back as well.”
The weight of that last statement snapped James back to reality. His eyes widened as he silently stared at her.
“But first,” she said merrily, “why don’t you tell him,” she said nodding to me, “what it was you wished for?”
James mumbled something that I couldn’t make out.
“Louder!” snapped the Ifrit.
“Marsha,” James whispered.
I didn’t know what to think.
“She died because of you,” she told James, causing his features to distort into an anguished mask. “Don’t worry to much though, it was never real,” she whispered to him, “it was a strong infatuation yes, but never love,” she laughed. Turning back to face me she said, “that’s what he wished for, love,” she laughed again and much louder as if it was one of the funniest things she had ever heard.
“I just…just wanted to be loved,” he sobbed.
Who doesn’t pal, who doesn’t? I thought.
“I can bring her back, remember?” she reminded him, “all it would take is another life, a life for a life,” she informed him. She looked at me, a hungry smile on her face, “maybe…his?” she suggested.
James looked at me with his tear stained puff red face then desperately at the Ifrit, weighing the situation.
“Him for her,” she said, “what do you say James? All it takes is a wish.”
I made every effort I could into speaking, “James,” I rasped, drawing his attention, “it…it won’t be real, you know that.” I told him.
“I…know…but—” he began.
I cut him off, “look…around you,” I said, “at her,” I nodded to Ortiz, “she didn’t deserve this. She’s dead because of you!” I made sure to put heat into those words, to make him know, to make him feel guilty. This guy’s conscious needed a wake up call and I was going to give it to him.
“I…I….” He stammered.
“Is this what Marsha would want?” I asked, working hard to say that complete sentence.
He froze, his head bowing over in shame, “no,” he mumbled quietly.
“Then stop this,” I pleaded.
“Stop this!?” the Ifrit barked incredulously, “look at him,” she laughed, “he won’t stop this, he can’t! He’s pathetic,” she sneered.
Way to win him over to your side.
“James…please,” I begged, “stop this.”
James shut his eyes tight and breathed deeply, rising slowly to his feet; he opened his eyes and addressed the Ifrit. “A wish,” he said firmly.
The Ifrits face lit up with glee, she didn’t notice what I did, the defiant look in James’ eyes.
“Anything,” she purred.
“A life…” he said, pausing for a moment as he collected himself, “for a life.” He said firmly.
“Of course,” replied the Ifrit.
“I wish for Ma…” he started but then cast his gaze over to Ortiz’s fallen corpse and then inhaled deeply before beginning again. “I wish for her life,” he said pointing to Ortiz’s body, “to be restored, my life as payment and….” his jaw tightened before he continued, “and…I want you gone.” He said coldly.
Nothing happened for a long moment, there was no flash of spectacular blinding light, no smoke, nothing. Everything was perfectly still like a painting, for a while atleast, then James turned to face me, a look of sadness and remorse on his face.
“Norman,” he said quietly, “I’m sorry, sorry for everything, sorry for…” he broke off for a moment before continuing, “sorry for her,” he said nodding to Ortiz. He took in a deep heavy breath before adding, “I’m s
orry for Marsha, I’m so sorry,” he finished. The next moment his whole body shuddered as if the room temperature had dropped below freezing, his eyelids fluttered slowly and a lengthy quiet breath left his body. I watched as James’ body fell in complete silence for the final time as he died, died trying to fix all the damage he had done. He couldn’t bring Marsha back, the janitor, Norman or any of the people who had died in the hotel fire but, he just gave his life to bring back Ortiz and that I hoped was a good enough deed to put the Ifrit away for good.
The Ifrit however, well she didn’t decide to go so quietly or peacefully, hell, she didn’t even mutter so much as an apology! She looked at me in cold hard fury, her entire body was riddled with hairline cracks that burned orange and seeped smoke. She looked like was falling apart right before me. That perennial snarl of hers widened as she screamed furiously at me, “do you know what you’ve done!” she snarled, “DO YOU!”
Yeah, I thought smugly, I put genie back in the fucking bottle.
More hairline cracks began to appear over her body and along with them came more smoke that was billowing out of every inch of her body now. “You called me a murderer,” she hissed angrily, “you’ve just damned me to an eternity of slavery!” she shouted, “that is no life!” she screamed, “no life at all!” she sounded like a teenager throwing a fit. “Who’s the murderer!?” she screamed, pointing an accusing finger towards me, “I didn’t ask for this!”
Neither did I.
That’s when I noticed the stream of moisture slowly cascading down her cheek, trickling from her eye. “I didn’t ask for this,” she sobbed, “your kind took everything from me, your kind did this to me!” she screamed, “who’s the murderer?” she shouted again, “who’s the mur—” she tried shouting but it was over then. She began taking quick shallow breaths as if she were suffocating, her body jerked wildly for a moment before the cracks that riddled her body flared brightly and violently. She threw her head back and screamed at the ceiling as her body burst into a mass of smoke tinged with flecks of bright orange flames that slowly and gracefully made its way towards her vessel. Seconds later the mass of smoke and fire had coalesced into a narrow stream as it filtered back into the brass oil lamp, making a quiet sound much like a light a breeze as it did.
And then she was gone, that was it, no trace of her from what I could see.
I struggled to push myself up to my knees as I began crawling on all fours over to Ortiz’s still prone form. I held my head directly above and looked at her calm frozen and beautiful features. “Ortiz?” I whispered,
There was a deep gasp and her body arched backwards before lurching forwards with surprising speed. Her head shot forwards like a missile and collided with…my frickin’ nose!
The sick wet sound of cartilage breaking filled my ears, warm blood began tricking out, between that and my ribs, I thought I was going to faint or atleast vomit.
“Oh my God, Norman, your nose!” she exclaimed in shock.
“Grhngh!” I moaned unintelligibly, which meant, Goddamnit Ortiz!
She completely ignored what I had just said and looked down at her chest in amazement, running her hands over the hole her clothing. Completely baffled, she looked at me and asked uncertainly, “I…died?”
I nodded aggressively while pinching my nose hard, trying to stop the blood.
“I’m….alive?” she said in disbelief.
I grunted an affirmative.
“How?”
I grunted.
“The Ifrit?” she asked in shock.
I gave another nod and another grunt.
“Is she…?” Ortiz asked, not bothering to finish the question.
I nodded.
“For good? Your sure?”
I shot her an angry glare and nodded more aggressively.
“And…James?” she asked quietly.
I shook my head sadly.
“You know you can talk right?” she said impatiently, “I heard you whisper my name.”
Yeah, before you head butted me in the nose! I thought. Out loud I said, “it hurts too much.”
“Such a wuss,” she said teasingly.
I get no respect.
Ortiz suddenly rose to her feet and walked away from me, I saw her walk over to a small brass oil lamp that was covered in red lipstick. She knelt down to pick it up, encircling it in both hands and then jerking back instantly and dropping the vessel.
I gave her a what gives, kind of look.
“It’s…really hot,” she murmured as she brought both her hands closer to her mouth and began gently blowing on them.
“Wuss,” I teased lightly.
Ortiz snorted and knelt down again, this time cautiously picking up the vessel by removing her coat and wrapping it around brass object. She brought over to me and set it down in front of me as she sank to her knees besides me.
The seal was still perfectly in tact.
“So,” Ortiz said, “since you seem to be conveniently bleeding, care to do the honors?” she asked in carefully neutral tone, I couldn’t help but notice the smirk on her face however.
I glowered at her and made a childish face.
She laughed.
That set me off and we just laughed for what seemed like forever. God it felt good to laugh and be done with this, well, almost done.
I took one of my blood-covered hands and gently pressed it against the seal, an intense heat enveloped my hand yet there was no pain, just warmth. I pulled my hand away to find that once smudgy lipstick seal now looked as if it had been part of the brass vessel from the very beginning, it blended perfectly with the metal save for the color.
A gentle tingling sensation began to run across my forearm, I shot a quick glance at it to see a big black number one that was quickly losing its clarity. Moments later it faded from sight completely. I couldn’t help it, that close to the finish line and I pulled it off, I started laughing again, louder this time. Ortiz stared at me like I was a lunatic and that only made me laugh even harder until I couldn’t laugh anymore.
“Now,” I sighed, “it’s really over.”
“What are you going to do with that?” Ortiz asked, pointing at the now sealed vessel.
“Kill two birds with one stone,” I replied.
“Huh?”
“I’m going to turn this in and keep a promise I made you,” I explained.
“Oh?” she said surprised, arching a dark chestnut eyebrow in curiosity.
“Yeah,” I said simply, “feel like going to church?” I asked with a smile.
Her eyebrow rose even higher.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Since it wasn’t too far from the museum, I decided to visit the building I had first visited when I had contacted Church. I gently pushed past one of the large wooden doors with Ortiz right behind me and entered.
Ortiz brushed against my shoulder as she moved up besides me to get a better look.
It was a small church but beautiful, the vast majority of it was a dark cherry wood, from the intersecting ceiling beams, to the walls and the pews, the place had a sensation of warmth to it. There were two chandeliers that hung across from one another, bathing the wooden church in a soft glow; an archway in the front of the church contained several intricate and angelic paintings that were placed into it. Stained glass windows ran along the sides of the building, all in all, it wasn’t such a bad place to be after everything we had just gone through.
Sitting in a pew at the very front of the church was a lone figure. Chin length wavy blonde hair hung behind him, I could see that he hadn’t changed his shirt; it was still the full-length white collared shirt from before. There was the almost unnoticeable movement of shoulder, gently bobbing around as he moved his arm side to side. He must’ve been writing, he was always writing something.
“Who’s that?” asked Ortiz in a hushed whisper.
I held up a finger motioning for silence, I didn’t want to disturb Church. I gave a quiet nod, beckoning her to follow as I quietl
y approached the front of the church. About halfway towards the front, I felt something slump against me; I turned to find an unconscious Ortiz resting her full body against me.
I gave her a gentle shake, “Ortiz?”
“Sorry,” said a very soft and kind voice.
I turned to look at Church, his glacial like eyes calmly looking back at me, a few blonde locks of his wavy hair fell over one side of his glasses. He was standing with perfectly straight posture; his hands clasped in front him.
I looked turned my attention back to Ortiz, ignoring Church for the moment, I bent at the knees a bit and slipped a hand underneath her in an effort to pick her up. The second I tried to exert even the tiniest bit of force, my entire ribcage lit up with fiery pain, I tried grimaced through it but it man was it hard.
“Please,” Church said quietly, stepping forwards to gently take Ortiz from my arms, lifting her effortlessly as if she weighed next to nothing.
For the record, all women always weigh next to nothing, one of the most important survival tips I’ve ever learned.
He held her so tenderly, like she was some fragile thing as he carried over to the nearest pew where he slowly laid her down to rest, all without the slightest hint of effort. So Church apparently found time to hit the gym between his regular job of bossing me around.
“I’m sorry Vincent,” he said quietly, “but she’s not ready to meet me, yet,” he added.
“You did that?” I asked tone that was both surprised and impressed.
He gave a simple and quiet nod of the head.
Huh, cool.
“You know,” I began slowly, “I promised her answers.”
“I know,” responded Church in his ever soft and quiet voice.
“She helped in this case.”
“I know,” he replied again, just as quiet and softly as before.
“She risked her life for me Church, hell, she saved it too.” I explained.
“I know Vincent.”
“She deserves answers Church,” I said firmly.
“She does,” he replied, “just not yet, when she’s ready,” he replied with a quiet firmness that signaled the end of that part of our discussion.