by J G Barber
Leucosia flips to embrace Laura. “This is only a taste, my beloved. Join us. The celebration of desire is tomorrow night.”
Laura’s thoughts turn to Paul, snapping her out of the trance. She fights with all her will to take control of her mind. Laura untangles from Leucosia, gathers her clothes, and dresses. “I am married to a man. This is no longer my way.”
Leucosia blocks her exit path. “He has already joined us. Choose him. Choose me. Choose us both. Or chose others. We do not impose limits on your sensuality.”
“I will not expose my child to your kind of life,” Laura says with finality.
“It pains me to hear that, my dear.” Leucosia breathes away a moment of grief. “You leave me no choice.” Her emerald green eyes emit a supernatural glow filled with predatory intent.
“Holy shit.” Laura grabs her knife and backs toward the window as Leucosia morphs into a lioness-woman. She positions herself to fight as Leucosia extends the claws in her forepaws. Laura cuts into her paw as claws rip her shirt and graze the side of her belly. Laura reaches for the glass door as Leucosia leaps forward. They crash through the glass together, shards flying everywhere. Laura’s head hits the patio with a thud and she bounces into the pool. Unconscious, she sinks to the bottom.
Lioness-woman Leucosia rolls onto her paws at the pool’s edge, watching Laura as she sinks. She looks up as Alexei fires his crossbow. The arrow grazes Leucosia’s neck. She runs inside. Alexei pursues her up the stairs. He reaches the top of the turret as the bird-woman flies away. He reloads and fires a shot that embeds in her left wing. She flutters and crashes into the treetops, recovering with a pained scream. Leucosia disappears beyond the tree line before Alexei can reload again.
Alexei runs downstairs and dives into the pool, returning to the surface with Laura. She’s not breathing. He performs CPR until she resuscitates. After a coughing fit, her eyes acknowledge him. Alexei shoulders his crossbow, lift her in his arms, and carries her back to the car.
Paul sleeps through the day at the Cultus mansion, alone in the master bed. Lorelei entertained him all night. She fed him with a variety of herbal concoctions to feed his cellular change with nutrients. Led him to explore of the vast gothic building and audiovisual previews of the celebration. She seduced him into childlike innocence, and then terrified him into submissiveness, not allowing him to sleep. As a nightcap, she drugged him yet again with a heavy Indica cannabis tincture to put him to sleep for ten hours and leave him lusting for more when he awakes.
Meanwhile, the siren familiars transform the mansion into a surreal space for a hundred people to experience the party of their lifetimes. They set up a club DJ station, speakers everywhere and lighting from floor to ceiling. Vibrant sea colors are represented in light filters, flowers and streamers. They assemble safe zones with unusual furniture of all sizes and shapes, dance stages with poles, orgy rooms with mirrored walls and padding anywhere sharp edges existed. They stock the bars and lay out tables with every party drug imaginable. The food will come later, just before the party starts.
Leucosia checks the hidden balcony. From here, she will observe and drink in the energy of the celebration of desire. Physical participation no longer interests her. She comes to feed. And, she must be able to exit quickly when the opportunity she waits for presents itself.
Noise downstairs wakes Paul up. He sits up in bed as Lorelei enters with a tray of juices, fruit and coffee. She hands him a glass. “Drink this,” she commands before he gathers his wits.
“Wow, that’s good.” Paul finishes the glass and reaches for the coffee. “You drugged me last night,” he says, suspicious but not minding. So far, this has been an amazing trip, better than any of his college experiences.
She smiles. “The celebration of desire includes all things carnal and chemical.”
“Oh my god, where did you get this?” Each bite explodes in his mouth with flavor. “I’ve never had a banana like this before.”
She hands him a dark drink, a blend of fruit juice and superfoods, high potency nutrition to prepare his body for the night to come. “We have the best of everything flown in from all over the world, from private organic growers. The celebration of desire is prepared to make a deep and lasting impression. We all need reminders of the blessings Great Mother provides for us.”
As he finishes the dark drink, his body comes alive. “The best of everything?”
“Come with me, I’ll show you.” She leads him downstairs to one of the drug tables.
“Holy shit.” He inspects an organized and labeled collection of botanicals, inhalants, pills and powders for every taste, along with the implements required to consume them. During his drug fascination phase in college, Paul read about the lifestyles and parties of famous people. He remembers the story of a Hollywood party where they had tables full of drugs laid out for the guests—an experience he always wanted to have, a deep hidden desire. But he never crossed paths with anyone, aside from Scott, who had the money or connections, and Scott didn’t host parties.
He lifts a baggie off the table. “MDA, for reals?” Pau reflects on last night’s high and compares it to one of his college experiments. “So that’s what you gave me last night. Good shit.”
She smiles and holds up a vial of cocaine. “Scott’s favorite.”
Paul concludes this is where Brianne got hers. He distracts himself from the cocaine by exploring the rest of the table. “No way, amyl nitrite. Never seen that before.” Another college reading covered the goings-on in the 1970s discos and gay bathhouses. He looks at Lorelei again. “You even have ayahuasca? I’m impressed.” Paul finds his true desire at the far end of the table. He grabs a fat blunt and a mini lighter.
“Smoking area on the patio to your right.” Her delighted grin fades into a moment of sadness as he steps outside. I hope he joins us.
Ellen parks her old Volvo wagon near the emergency room entrance at Whidbey General Hospital. She wrestles her way out of the car, exhausted from the stress of leaving her apartment and driving through traffic for hours to attend to her sister’s demise.
Alexei hovers outside the entrance, watching the skies. She recognizes him from Laura’s description. “Hi, I’m Ellen.”
“Alexei.” He shakes her hand. “It is an honor to meet you.”
She notices the runes of strength and protection on his necklace. His collection of Icelandic magical staves impresses her, and she forgets for a moment why she’s here. “So what happened? How’s my sister?”
“Her condition is stable. The child is not in danger.” Alexei’s phone rings. Ellen heads inside as Alexei answers.
“They fried my phone,” Dutch shouts. “Don’t know how they did it. I just bought a prepaid phone. Where are you?”
Alexei heads for his car. “Join me at Whidbey General.” He opens the trunk of his car and searches for his carton of Sobranie Black Russian cigarettes. He grabs a fresh pack and stuffs it in his pocket for later.
“You took her to the mansion. Big mistake.” Dutch’s old jeep grinds and rattles to a start. “I’m on my way.”
Lorelei and Paul tour the finished preparations for the celebration of desire. In his stoned state, he’s blown away by it all. “You really know how to party,” he says as he grabs a glass of wine from a table by the bar. A familiar scurries to restore the table to symmetry. “I’m hungry. When do the guests arrive?”
“Soon. First, more nutrition.” Lorelei leads him to the kitchen where a familiar prepares another superfoods drink. The familiar hands them two large glasses. They drink it down. Paul’s body responds with another surge of energy. Lorelei swings by a drug table and grabs two baggies of MDA. As they pass a mirrored orgy room, Paul glimpses a table covered with sex toys and S&M gear of all shapes and sizes. “Come on,” she calls to him before he can process what this means for the night’s prospects.
They jog upstairs to the master suite. Lorelei watches her phone timer. “We must give our bodies some time to digest.” She
entertains him with another massage, singing as she kneads his muscles, lulling him to sleep.
“It’s time,” Lorelei announces, awakening Paul from his cannabis-induced nap. She pours red wine into the two-handled gold chalice adorned with the labrys, empties the baggies into the wine, and hands the chalice to Paul.
“Ah yeah.” He exhales after drinking his share. “I used to have a friend, in college. We called him The Chemist. I like MDA so much better than Molly.”
“Me too.” She hands the chalice back to Paul after drinking her fill. Paul doesn’t hesitate to finish it.
Lorelei withdraws his little Sailor boy costume and her Serpent Goddess outfit from the closet. They change into their costumes. He’s admires how comfortable she is in her body, as she presents her perfect breasts for all to see.
She smiles as he admires her breasts. “In Minoan society, it was normal for us to dress like this. The Europeans brought so much shame to human sexuality. It’s unnecessary.”
He can’t help himself. Paul moves in to grab a feel. Lorelei stops his hands before they can. “Not that I mind at all, but you need to save your strength for tonight. We have something special in store for you.” She strokes his hair and pushes him away.
Paul’s mind wanders again to thoughts of a threesome with Monica. Oh my fucking god. He accepts his fate to wait for his surprise. As he watches Lorelei put the finishing touches on her costume, he feels another surge of energy from their last nutritional drink, this time in his groin.
Leucosia watches from her vantage point as the circular driveway fills with expensive cars and limos. She shakes off her soul-weariness as memories of hundreds of celebrations flash through her mind. She indulges in a moment of sentimentality as she recalls the celebrations from her original gossip, in the times before the Atlantean crimes against her and her kind. Those were simpler times, when they were at one with nature and Great Mother, and they rooted their lives in the sea.
The vehicle noises irritate her like grains of sand in an oyster. Many times on the eve of the celebration of desire, she has contemplated taking her own life. But not tonight. The silicon-and-steel modern world forms the pearl of her vision. And her love for Lorelei and her sisters give her strength to persevere until the vision becomes the reality. We will restore the Sirenian gene to its rightful place as the stewards of this Earth. And we will cleanse her of the invasive species known as humans.
Lorelei’s limo pulls up at the mansion entrance. Jerry and the New Century crew exit, dressed in long coats to hide their costumes underneath. Monica looks up to find Leucosia’s welcoming eyes before she retreats to her station in the attic. The others follow Monica’s eyes upward to the roof, wondering what caught her attention. Monica hooks one arm under Jerry’s and the other under Elmo’s corralling them inside. Donald and Dandridge follow them in.
“Fucking cheap ass cell service,” Dutch curses as he disembarks from the ferry in Clinton. He regrets not fixing the satellite GPS in his jeep, opting instead to rely on his mobile phone for navigation. Whidbey is a mysterious island, with lots of tree-lined roads and dark off-road corners to hide in. Mobile GPS doesn’t cut it. A prepaid phone is worthless.
He turns the jeep onto one of those roads. The light bar above the windshield illuminates trees and darkness. Dutch drives with one hand as he tries to pinpoint his location on a paper map. A “swoosh” sound grabs his attention. He swerves as bird-woman Leucosia swoops in front of the jeep, heading right for him. The jeep veers off the road and crashes into the trees. Leucosia floats down over the wreck, peering through the broken windshield at Dutch’s limp, bleeding body. Her talons open the door. She drags him into darkness of the woods. Dutch screams as she tears the flesh from his bones.
Lorelei left Paul alone in the master bedroom to attend to her guests while he marinated in his enhanced biochemistry. He considered changing out of his sailor boy costume, but every time he started, the snake collar around his neck reactivated to enforce his obedience. Noise grows downstairs as the celebration comes to life. He wants to be part of it but he’s ashamed to be seen the way he’s dressed. Fuck it.
He sprints down the stairs, colliding with Jerry at the bottom. Paul’s shocked to see Jerry’s wearing the same outfit. “Nice costume,” Jerry says.
“Lorelei’s idea,” Paul says as the MDA surges.
“It’s all Lorelei’s idea.” Jerry disappears into the crowd.
The room fills with the signature techno beat, the soundtrack for Paul’s experiences with the sirens. Motion-controlled lights pour color into the fog, filling the spaces between the costumed guests. Paul checks out the variety of people, wearing past and present garb of all varieties, each costume telling a story about the person wearing it and who they secretly long to be. Or, as in Paul’s and Jerry’s cases, how others see them. The beat transitions into vocal trance as the music creates the hypnotic effect of a siren song. The vibe is surreal; New York City nightclub meets Roman orgy.
Paul finds Scott with Brianne and two beautiful couples, surrounding a high-top mermaid table like the one in Lorelei’s mansion. “What’s going on here?” Paul asks over Scott’s shoulder.
“Nice outfit, bro!” Scott replies, breaking the circle to show off his costume. He’s dressed as a rich prep school student: neat, tight shorts with a button-down white shirt, tie, and jacket. Paul takes in Brianne’s Catholic schoolgirl outfit with her button-down shirt open. Her schoolmaster would not approve. “She’s not wearing any panties,” Scott whispers in Paul’s ear, wrapping an arm around Paul’s shoulder to pull him into the circle. One by one, the beautiful people snort lines of coke off the glass, followed with shots of Ambhar tequila. Cut limes and stacks of shot glasses decorate the center of the table, surrounding bottles of Plata, Reposado and Añejo.
“Dude, try this shit. Best in my entire life. So clean! And the tequila. Mwah! Like nectar.” He pours Paul a shot of Plata, chops two fat lines, and rolls up a $100 bill.
Paul snorts the lines, squeezes a lime slice, and slams the shot like a pro. “Yes!” he proclaims as the old familiar sensation kicks him. Paul licks his lips to say he wants more. Scott sets him up. The circle continues until everyone’s satiated.
“Now you’re strapped to the mast, buddy,” Scott says with a slap on the back. He pulls Paul aside. “Well, did you fuck her yet?” Scott asks. He observes Paul’s reaction. “You did! You dog! Good man.” Scott grabs Brianne’s hand and disappears into the crowd.
Paul bolts for the smoking patio. Elmo passes a fat blunt to Dandridge, who takes it in like a boss. Elmo sports an authentic Viking costume, complete with sword and shield. Dandridge wears a medieval priest’s hooded horsehair robe. “Paul!” Elmo shouts. He checks out Paul’s outfit. “You and Jerry. Interesting.”
Paul signals for the blunt. “Crazy shit, huh,” he says as he exhales. Elmo nods, takes his turn, and passes it back to Dandridge. Monica joins the circle next to Paul and intercepts the blunt. Her outfit compliments her green eyes, a shimmering blue-green, front-tied, sequined, lace-up halter rave crop top, green scrunch back strappy bikini booty shorts, and black boots. “Holy shit,” Paul blurts out. He can’t take his eyes off her.
Monica grins. “You like what you see?” She gives him the full show, completing a graceful 360-degree spin as she exhales. She giggles as Paul admires her cleavage. “Yes, of course they’re real.” She passes the blunt to Elmo. “Here, check for yourself.” She unties her halter-top.
Paul’s too fucked up to hesitate. He tests her breasts with both hands. “Impressive.”
She pulls him against her and gives him a deep tongue kiss. “Come find me later.” She re-holsters her assets, turns away with a come hither look, and struts into the mansion. Elmo and Dandridge stand frozen.
“Does she do that often?” Paul bumps Dandridge as he grabs the blunt out of Elmo’s hand, bringing the men back to consciousness.
“Well, yeah, she does. Gets us every time.” Elmo nudges Dandridge, who agree
s with a guilty grin.
“You ever?” Paul asks.
“Do I want to? Well… who wouldn’t?” Elmo says. “Looking’s fine. Don’t touch and don’t taste, that’s our policy.” Dandridge nods agreement. Elmo adds, “We’ve seen what happened to Jerry.”
Paul hands Dandridge the blunt and bolts inside. Dandridge and Elmo suspected. Now they know the truth. Paul did what Jerry did with Lorelei.
“Need food,” Paul mumbles. He stumbles into the moving crowd. Smells lead him to a table of exotic small bites. Paul tries one after another, groaning with each new discovery.
Donald joins him, accompanied by two chiseled, shirtless young men wearing tight black pants and radiating sexuality. “Mister Douglass. Having a good time?” They shake hands.
Paul checks out the two men. They check out his Sailor outfit. They like what they see. Paul moves to position Donald between them. “Who are your friends?”
“A little entertainment. For later.” Donald winks. Paul bolts again. Donald and the two men take turns feeding each other small bites.
Paul grabs a glass of liquor and looks for a hiding place. In a quiet corner, he slides down to the floor and sips his shot and take in the scene. The guests are less dressed than they were when they arrived. The music pumps and people dance, some to the rhythm of the music, some to their own rhythm, all of them allowing whatever body parts they’ve uncovered to swing and sway. “This is going to turn into a fucking orgy,” he realizes as he watches the crowd in a state of stupor. Within minutes, he passes out.
Bird-woman Leucosia flies over Whidbey General to assess the situation. She spots Alexei in the parking lot, armed and smoking, but no sign of police or other men. She circles the hospital, out of Alexei’s sight.
Laura sleeps as Ellen reads a novel by her bedside. The medical equipment goes haywire. Leucosia crashes through the window, sending glass and debris all over the room. Leucosia unleashes a sonic attack. Ellen covers her ears. Laura goes into convulsions. The monitor alarms sound.