Raising Hell

by S. K. Gregory

  “Sorry, I’m starving. I’m sick of take out too. I would kill for a homecooked meal for once.”

  “You can’t cook?”

  “I can, but its better when someone cooks for you. Don’t you think?”

  “I guess.” He took a bite of pie. Was he going to take the hint?

  I rolled my eyes. Men are so dense sometimes.

  “You know…” he said.

  “Yes?”

  “Well, I don’t know if you’d be interested, but I make a mean lasagne.”

  “Are you inviting me to dinner?”

  “Only if you want to.”

  “That sounds great. Is seven, okay?”

  “Perfect,” he said, looking confused.

  *

  I wasn’t sure what to wear for my dinner with Clark. I didn’t want to give him the wrong idea. It was dinner between friends. One where I planned on going through his house when he wasn’t looking and stealing from him if necessary. Perfectly ordinary.

  I settled on a tight red sweater and jeans. I didn’t have any wine in the house, so I brought a bottle of whiskey with me. It was a single malt I liked to keep for special occasions.

  As soon as he opened the door, I could smell the food cooking. It smelled delicious.

  “Hey. You know it occurred to me that I didn’t actually tell you where I live,” Clark said.

  “Don’t worry, I found you,” I quipped. “Whiskey?”

  “Uh, thanks. Come in.”

  The house was warmed by a roaring fire in the living room. I didn’t get a good look at it before when I was snooping, but it was quite cozy.

  “Why don’t you take a seat and I’ll pour us a drink,” Clark suggested.

  He seemed nervous. I really hoped he didn’t think this was a date. Although the way I blew hot and cold, he probably had no idea what was going on. If I wasn’t trying to raise my dead husband, I would certainly give him a second look. Assuming he wasn’t in a murderous cult.

  If I really was Persephone Smith, small town resident, I could see her being swept off her feet by the dashing deputy, but she didn’t exist. Not really. Why did I feel bad about that?

  While Clark was getting the drinks, I checked out the pictures on the mantle. It looked like mostly family members, but there was one picture of a pretty brunette wrapped in Clark’s arms.

  “Who’s this?” I asked pointing to the picture.

  Clark’s face dropped. “That’s, uh, Paula. An old girlfriend.”

  “And you keep her picture?”

  “Here’s your drink,” he said, changing the subject. I could see I had upset him asking about her. I took the glass from him.

  “Sorry, I’ve been told I don’t have boundaries. Some people find it charming.”

  He smiled. “It’s fine.”

  “The food smells amazing.”

  “Yeah, it’s an old recipe from my grandmother. She was half Italian.”

  “All my family are Greek. Or they were.”

  “You don’t have anyone?” We sat on the couch.

  I shook my head. “No. After they died I kind of drifted, traveled the world.”

  “I wanted to travel, but I never got the chance. My mom died when I was eight and my dad got sick when I was eighteen. I put college off to look after him, but he died a few months later. That’s when I went through my ‘phase.’ By the time I wised up, I had two choices. Waste the money he left me ‘drifting’ as you call it or use it to make a life for myself.”

  “You chose Bedford over the world?”

  “What can I say? I’m a simple guy. At eighteen, if someone told me I would live a boring life in the same town I grew up in, I would have laughed in their face. Now, I don’t know, I like boring.”

  “Yeah, but how can you stand it? What do you do for fun?”

  “Well…” he said, leaning toward me. For a moment, I thought he was going in for a kiss, but instead he picked up his glass. Before taking a drink, he said, “Karaoke.”

  I laughed. “Karaoke? Seriously?”

  “Every Friday night at the bar.”

  “Oh my God. What’s your song?”

  “Total Eclipse of the Heart.”

  “Shut up, no it isn’t.”

  He started singing a few lines, loudly and offkey, making me crack up. “I have to see that.”

  “Then it’s a date. Or isn’t. Honestly, I’m never sure with you.”

  I stared into his copper colored eyes, which I noticed had little flecks of yellow in them, considering the offer. “Do you want it to be?”

  “I wouldn’t say no.”

  Setting my drink down, I lunged at him, my lips mashing against his. We started kissing and for the first time in a long time, I forgot about everything else.

  His hands started on my hips before one of them slid down to cup my ass. I wanted him, badly. I hated being alone all the time. What would it hurt to have one night of crazy sex?

  I climbed onto his lap, straddling him and I could already feel his erection through his jeans. Grinding against him, I elicited a moan from him. He was in the middle of unhooking my bra when the smoke detector started blaring.

  “Shit, the lasagne,” he said, gently pushing me off him. He rushed into the kitchen to try and save dinner.

  I tried to compose myself, knocking back the rest of my whiskey. Clark returned a few minutes later.

  “Well, dinner is ruined, I’m afraid.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Clark.”

  “Dan,” he said, looking a little hurt.

  “Yeah, Dan,” I quickly amended.

  He pulled me against him, kissing me again. “We could go into the bedroom?” he suggested.

  I wanted to. I really wanted to but what about Hades? I pulled away. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

  “That’s fine, we don’t have to rush anything,” Clark said.

  “No, I meant I can’t at all. This was a mistake.”

  “Oh. I…Did I do something wrong?”

  “No, of course not.” I sighed. “I know it sounds stupid, but I…it feels like I’m cheating.”

  “On your husband.”

  “Yes. I know it sounds stupid, but it’s how I feel,” I said, taking a seat on the couch. It would be cheating if he came back. I knocked my drink back.

  Clark moved to the fireplace, picking up the picture I had pointed out from earlier. “I actually know how you feel. Paula and I dated for over three years before she died.”

  “Oh. What happened to her?” I poured myself another drink.

  “We were camping in the woods and I woke up in the middle of the night to find her gone. I thought that maybe she had gotten lost when she went to the bathroom, but she didn’t come back. I waited for first light and started searching for her. I thought I would find her wandering around, but there was no sign of her. I went back to town and had some of the deputies come back out with me. It was two days before we found her. She was a couple of miles from where we were camped, lying at the bottom of a cliff. The official verdict was that she got lost, and accidentally walked off the cliff in the dark. She broke her neck.”

  “Clark, I’m so sorry. That’s horrible.”

  He set the picture back on the mantle. “I never understood how she could have wandered so far. We both knew the area even in the dark and she knew that if she got lost the best bet was to stay put and start yelling.”

  “Maybe she was sleepwalking?”

  He shrugged. “Maybe. Guess we’ll never know. So I understand what you’re going through. What about your husband? How did he die?”

  “I don’t know. I wasn’t there. He was killed in our home. I never found out exactly how, but he died and then my mother died soon after.”

  “I know it feels like time stands still when you lose someone, and it can be tempting to let it. But you can’t put your life on hold indefinitely.”

  “You a shrink in your spare time?” I joked.

  “No, but I’ve seen one and its good advice.”
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  “Thank you,” I said, and I meant it. Clark was a good guy and he actually understood me. Not many people do. I actually felt bad that we couldn’t take it further.

  “I’m sorry about tonight.”

  “Don’t be. I’ll see if I can salvage some of the lasagne.”

  “Okay, can I use your bathroom?”

  “Sure, it’s at the top of the stairs.”

  As much as it pained me to look for the amulet, I did anyway. At least to rule him out.

  I sneaked into his bedroom to check it out. His bed was unmade and there were clothes on the floor, but it wasn’t as bad as I was expecting. I quickly checked the drawers, the nightstand, but there was no sign of the amulet.

  When I came back downstairs, Clark was still in the kitchen, trying to save some of the lasagne.

  “I think I should go,” I said.

  “Are you sure? I could order a pizza.”

  “No, it’s fine. I think its best if I go.”

  Clark walked me to the door. “You know if you ever want to talk…”

  “Thanks,” I said, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek. It was hard to actually walk away.

  I drove home to my empty house, well if you didn’t count Cerberus. I grabbed one of the beers that was left over from the other night and downed it.

  I gave up a warm bed tonight for the promise of my old life. Or as close as I was going to get. I hoped it was worth it.

  14

  I made my way to the store shortly after ten the next morning, my head ready to explode from the hangover. I should probably show my face, considering I was supposed to own it, but by the Gods I was suffering. Alcohol didn’t use to have this effect on me. Maybe I was getting old.

  Gavin was already there when I arrived. He gave me a dirty look. “Nice of you to show up.”

  “Sorry, Mom,” I said sarcastically. “Is there any coffee?”

  Gavin rolled his eyes. “In the pot.”

  I slumped into the seat behind the counter and put my head in my hands. “Great, pour me a cup.”

  “I’m not your slave.”

  “Oh my God,” I groaned in frustration. “Just do it.”

  A few minutes later, I heard a thump as he set the cup on the counter. I reached for it and gulped it back.

  “It’s cold,” I grumbled.

  “You didn’t specify hot coffee,” he replied.

  “You know what? I’ve had it with you. You’re fired.”

  “I don’t get paid, so you can’t fire me.”

  My cup exploded in my hand as I squeezed it too tightly. Gavin’s eyes widened in alarm. He actually backed up a few steps.

  “I have never, in all my years, met someone as argumentative as you. You’re worse than me.”

  He crossed his arms. “Yeah, I doubt it. I imagine all you have to do is flutter your eyelashes to get what you want.”

  I got to my feet, weighing up whether it was worth another stint in jail, just so I could slap him. I took a deep breath to calm myself. “Do something useful. Sweep the floor.”

  He opened his mouth to protest, but the glare I shot him shut him up. He grabbed the broom and started sweeping, sighing loudly every few minutes to show his annoyance. I swear I will shove that broom up your…

  Grabbing a cloth from the kitchen, I started mopping up the coffee and the broken cup. As I was brewing more, I wondered what my next move would be.

  I regretted killing Harris so soon. A little torture and I could have had all my answers.

  Returning to the counter, I took a sip of my delicious hot coffee. Heaven.

  There was a laptop on the counter, Gavin’s I assumed. I was sure he wouldn’t mind if I used it. He was at the other end of the store anyway, with his back to me. I dragged it over and opened the lid. I don’t use computers much, but I know the basics.

  “Not even password protected,” I muttered as I opened a search engine. I typed in The Cult of Ares and started reading.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Shit,” I said, jumping. I didn’t hear Gavin come up beside me. I quickly closed the laptop.

  “Could you not do that?” I said.

  “Why are you looking up the Cult of Ares?”

  “No reason.”

  “You’re not one of those freaks who goes around causing accidents in the name of Ares, are you?”

  “Yes, that’s what I do when I’m not here.”

  “What?”

  “I’m kidding! I spoke to Harris about them, before he left. He said a few people in town were involved, but I didn’t get the chance to find out who.”

  “Why don’t you call him and ask?” he suggested.

  “You know, I think the toilet could do with a clean.”

  Gavin sighed. “There was a guy, a few years ago, called Robert Jones. He went nuts and started attacking people. He claimed he was Ares himself. He beat a guy so badly that he died.”

  “What happened to Robert?”

  “He was arrested, then locked up in a mental institution.”

  “Is he still there?”

  “No, he went catatonic, an embolism I think. He was sent home with a nurse to look after him. They said he would never recover. I don’t think he can even wipe his own ass anymore.”

  “Charming. Where does he live?”

  “Just outside town. Why?”

  “I’m doing research on Greek myths and their effects on the modern day.”

  “Yeah, right. Try again,” Gavin said.

  “I’m the actual Greek Goddess Persephone from thousands of years ago.”

  Gavin sighed. “Forget it. Don’t tell me. But if you mix with those people, then you’re asking for trouble.”

  15

  “It’s come to this,” I said, as I parked my car outside Robert’s house. “I’m visiting crazy people now.”

  I glanced heavenwards, although if Hades was anywhere it was further south. “I bet you’re having a good laugh.”

  I recalled one of the last conversations I had with him, before the God killer arrived.

  “Why can’t you ever let anything go? If someone tells you no, you have to go out of your way to defy them, Persephone. Why do it?”

  “Because if there’s a way to do it, I’ll find it. Other people give up far too easily.”

  He smiled at that. I know he didn’t want to, but he couldn’t help himself.

  The house looked out on an overgrown yard, leading to a cornfield. The paint was peeling off the house and at least two windows were boarded up. Did anyone even live here?

  I knocked on the door and waited. After a few minutes, a woman in a white uniform answered. Robert’s nurse, I guessed.

  “Hi, I’m here to see Rob.”

  “Who are you?”

  “I’m an old friend. He went to school with my sister, I just got back to town and I heard what happened to him.”

  “What’s your name?”

  “Stef. Steffanie Smith,” I said, using the name Clark used for me, before he learned the real one.

  “I’ve never heard of you.”

  “It was a long time ago. Look, I came all the way out here, I just wanted to pay my respects or whatever.”

  “You know he’s in a catatonic state?”

  “Yeah, I heard.”

  “Five minutes.”

  She led me through to the back of the house. It was mostly unfurnished; the wallpaper was hanging off the walls in places. It seemed like a miserable place to live, but I guess Robert didn’t care.

  He was seated in a chair by the window. Robert was a big guy, maybe forty-five, with dark hair which was turning gray at the temples. He wore pale blue pyjamas and a white robe. Drool covered his chin as he stared vacantly into space.

  “Robert, you have a visitor,” the nurse said.

  There was no reaction at all, not that I was expecting one.

  “Five minutes,” she reminded me, leaving the room.

  As soon as she was gone, I started checking the room
for the amulet. No sign of it in the room. I moved over to check if he was wearing it. As I was trying to check his pockets, I heard, “Persephone?”

  I looked up to find him staring at me. “What did you say?”

  “Persephone, Goddess of the Spring.”

  “How do you know that?”

  He tapped the side of his head with his fingers. “He showed me. Ares.”

  “So, he really did possess you? How? The amulet?”

  “I need it back,” he said.

  “So you don’t have it.”

  His hand shot out and clamped around my wrist. He squeezed hard. “I need it!”

  “Let go of me. I don’t have it.”

  He lurched up from the chair, still holding my wrist.

  “Give it to me,” he roared. He backhanded me, sending me to the floor.

  “Son of a bitch,” I said, scrambling to my feet.

  The nurse came running in. “Robert? What the hell is going on?”

  “Beats me. Guess he isn’t as catatonic as you thought.”

  Robert grabbed a small table and hurled it across the room, barely missing the nurse.

  “This is your fault. Get out!” she yelled.

  “Gladly.” I ran out before Robert could throw something at me. I got into my car and headed back to town.

  I guess Eris wasn’t full of shit after all. She must have heard about the possession and come looking for the amulet.

  It was real. It was really real. I could bring one of them back. A wave of emotions hit me at once. Part of me always believed that it was a lie, that Eris was delusional. Now the question was, where is the damn amulet?

  I parked in town, so I could grab some things from the store, but I was intercepted by Clark.

  “Hey, Persephone. Uh, I need you to come to the station please. There’s been a complaint.”

  “What kind of complaint?”

  “A woman called Debra Watson says you came to her house and aggravated her patient – Robert Jones?”

  “How did she know it was me? I didn’t even tell her my real name.”

  “No, but you called yourself Stef. It wasn’t hard to figure out. Come on.” It figures she would get through to him.

  I followed him into the station, passing a smirking Carlisle. Taking a seat at Clark’s desk, I tried to think of a convincing reason for being out there.