Rage in Pain Roz: The R.I.P. Series Book 2

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Rage in Pain Roz: The R.I.P. Series Book 2 Page 10

by Kris Johnston


  “You guys done yet?” I snapped.

  The two patrons straightened and turned back to their browsing. The redhead merely laughed.

  “So,” she at long last said, “A Dark has now become a Light. Welcome to the path of the good, Mr. Evans!”

  I looked at her in confusion.

  “So you see it, too?” Erica asked the woman.

  “His changed aura?” the woman asked. “Of course I do. He's a completely different soul!”

  “How can that happen?” Jess asked. “If a being’s soul is unchangeable, what might happen to cause such a drastic change?”

  The woman stared at me longer, and grew still. She tapped incredibly long, pointed black nails against the top of the counter, as she continued to scrutinize me.

  When I felt like I was going to snap at her again, she turned to Devon.

  “Let's move this little gathering to the meeting chamber, shall we?” She looked at me and grinned. “We'll need some privacy for this.”

  ***

  The woman called out, “Mind the shop, Gregor!” As she led us to the back of the store. An old, weathered man I hadn’t noticed ambled up through the rows of bookshelves. He was dressed in bell bottoms and a tie-dyed shirt, and had a long grey ponytail.

  “I am minding it, Nicole!” He grumbled loudly.

  The woman, Nicole, chuckled softly as he approached our little group.

  “No need to be so grumpy, my love,” she said soothingly, and reached out to stroke his wrinkled cheek.

  My love?!

  They were a couple? I felt my stomach turn slightly. He was old enough to be her grandfather, and she was eyeballing him with such tender love and longing, it almost made me sick. Gregor gripped her hand and leaned his face into her touch.

  “It's this old body,” he said apologetically. “I fear it won't be much longer, my heart.”

  “Shh,” she whispered. “We will be prepared for anything, and I will never leave your side.”

  She planted her lips firmly on his and I turned around to stare out the window. While I was pretty grossed out by the scene of love between a forty-something year old and a seventy-something year old, I was also touched by the extent of their love. They were soulmates, it was obvious. Whether or not I approved of the age difference meant nothing. It was love, and I had to accept it.

  Erica noticed I had turned away from the couple as they had kissed, and she leaned in close to me.

  “Relax, it's a curse,” she whispered. “He's not really that old. And even if he was, so what? They're in love.”

  I nodded. “You're right,” I whispered back. “But, a curse? What happened? Are curses real?”

  She stared at me hard. “You're quite committed to your story, aren't you? To make us believe you're Jimmy?”

  I shook my head. “Forget it.”

  Turning from her, I followed the others as we made our way to the back of the store. Once there, Nicole led us down a hallway to a firmly locked door. Once she had found the proper key, she stepped back and allowed us in.

  “Please, everyone take a seat,” she said.

  I entered the room she had called a ‘meeting chamber,’ and quickly did a look-around. Hundreds of old, ancient books lined the walls from floor to ceiling, and in the center of it all stood a large, round table.

  It appeared to be made of cherry wood, and had black, swirling designs embossed along the top of it. In the center was an opened book lying atop a piece of purple silk.

  Jess nudged me and nodded to a chair placed at the farthest end from where I stood. I remained silent and moved to the chair, taking a seat between Devon and Belle. Nicole closed the door and moved around the room, opening two or three hidden cabinets that had been strategically placed amongst the old books. I watched as she flitted about, humming to herself, then glanced around the table. The Pastels all looked perfectly at ease as they waited for Nicole to come sit with us. They seemed to have no worries about whatever was going on here. I, on the other hand, did. The longer I sat, the more I began to doubt my decision to tag along.

  “Aha! Here it is!” Nicole suddenly announced. She turned around to face us, and held a long, silver object in her hands.

  “The mirror of reflection?” Cindy asked. “Will it work?”

  “Only one way to find out!” Nicole replied with a grin.

  She took the last remaining seat and gingerly set the shiny handheld mirror on the tabletop. Then, she looked at Devon.

  “I understand there were other matters you wanted to discuss besides the aura of Mr. Parker?” She prompted.

  Devon nodded. “Yes, Nicole, but I think those things can wait until after you've used the mirror.”

  Nicole smiled. “Is it all related, somehow?”

  Devon replied, “I'm not sure, to be honest. If there is anything to find out from the mirror, then we will know for certain.”

  “Very well,” she said. “Now then, I will need to know as much as possible before channeling my power into the mirror.” She turned her eyes to me. “Mr. Evans, tell me. Why do you think you are now a Light?”

  I stiffened in my chair. “I'm sorry, I don't even know what that means.”

  Her eyes grew big around. “So the word on the street is true, eh? You really do have amnesia?”

  “No,” I said firmly. “I do not. The truth is that I'm not Parker Evans. My name is Jimmy Matheson.”

  Nicole gasped. “What is this trickery?

  I shook my head. “No, I promise, I'm telling the truth! I'm not Parker!”

  She looked at the girls. “Was there a soul swap?” She asked seriously.

  “We don't know,” Jess said. “All we know is what he claims. And to be honest, we aren't putting a lot of stock in that because, let's face it, Parker Evans would do anything and tell any lie imaginable if it was to his advantage.”

  Nicole shook her head. “But the aura does not lie. Parker Evans had a malignant aura before. He would've had to die from this life, travel beyond the veil, and come back to his body in order for there to be such a change.”

  “Well, he was taken off life support,” Belle said. “Perhaps he died and came back, and was changed that way?”

  Nicole shook her head once more and stared at me for a long, uncomfortable moment. “For his aura to be showing such goodness, such purity now, it would mean he was incapable of telling such a lie.”

  The room fell silent. I glanced around to each of the girls, finding their eyes on me. Each one seemed to be looking at me intently.

  “Oh my goddess,” Jess breathed. “Is it true?”

  Nicole let out a sigh. “That's why I have this.” She pointed to the mirror. “Mr. Evans, or Jimmy, whoever you are. You are going to hold the mirror before you, and look into the glass. I will channel my power into it, and the mirror will reveal the events that led up to this… situation.”

  I looked at her in shock. “Really?” I asked excitedly. “Then, yes! Let's do this! Give me that thing!” I excitedly reached for the mirror across the table, but she held out a hand, stopping me.

  “One moment, please,” she cautioned. “This is a technique that has nearly drained me of power in the past. I must have your word that you will not use your own power while I am using mine. You, being the younger and stronger of us, could inadvertently drain the life from me with the smallest wave of power from you.”

  I stared at her in shock. “I don't know how to use my power… or, if I even have any.”

  “Your word, please,” she insisted.

  “Yes, I give you my word,” I said soberly.

  “Then it is decided.” She stood, holding the mirror, and walked around the table to stand behind me. “I will place the mirror before you, and you will hold onto it tightly. I will place my hands on your shoulders, and allow my power to flow through you and into the mirror. The images of what caused your changing aura will appear in the mirror and will then be projected upon the wall across from us. Almost like a movie screen.”

/>   I nodded, understanding.

  “You'll have to keep your mind clear,” she instructed. “Keep your breathing even and steady, as if you were going to meditate, or find your center.”

  Find your center. Prudence had said that to me before during one of our sessions. I pushed down the anger I felt at the thought of her, and concentrated on the voice of Nicole.

  “Belle,” she said softly, “Light the candles please? And Jess, would you lower the lights?”

  Everyone did as told, as I concentrated on the touch of Nicole’s hands on my shoulders. “Deep breath in,” she said, “And deep breath out.”

  I closed my eyes to block out any distractions, and after several moments, Nicole finally said.

  “Now then, shall we begin?”

  Chapter 18

  ~Jimmy~

  I hadn't noticed the candelabras surrounding the space until Belle moved to light them. With the lights lowered and the candles lit, I anticipated a sense of doom and gloom. However, once Nicole sent her power into me, I immediately felt a strange sense of peace.

  I raised the mirror before me and stared at the face of Parker Evans in the glass. To this day I was still hit with great unease at my reflection, but I hoped today would provide an explanation for this anomaly.

  The Pastels reached out to one another and linked hands, causing a slight ripple in the air. I knew immediately they were joining forces to lend their power to Nicole, although how I knew it, I couldn't say. I simply understood what was happening, and did not question it.

  As I stared at my foreign reflection, Nicole whispered softly in that soothing voice of hers, “Now let go of yourself. Clear your mind. Whatever is meant for us to see, we shall see.”

  I gave a slight nod and did as requested. It was surprising, how easily it was for me to let go. It must have been the few sessions I'd had with Prudence. She'd inadvertently prepared me for this.

  The glass before me began to move and shimmer, like water. Parker’s face was washed away from the image, being replaced with another face, one I had never thought I'd see again.

  “It's me,” I whispered, my eyes filling with unashamed tears. I'd never been so happy to see the old me in my whole life, dead or alive!

  I examined the strong forehead and brow. The brown hair that was several shades darker than what I'd been living with. The eyes were a deep, rich brown, with heavy lashes. I giggled like a girl, I was so thrilled to see myself.

  Just as I was getting ready to ask everyone if they could see what I saw, the image pulled back, almost like a camera pulling away from a close-up. It was then that I could see clearly. I was wearing my black leather James Dean jacket, my white t-shirt, and I was driving my mother’s shiny blue station wagon.

  It's the night I died, I realized.

  My heart was heavy as I knew what to expect. The image pulled back farther and farther, until I was watching it all from a bird’s viewpoint. The car gained speed, more speed, even more. It aimed for the large oak tree just off to the right.

  I shook my head as if that could stop the scene from playing out, but of course it wouldn't. Sweat broke out on my upper lip and brow, and my hands trembled.

  To my horror and embarrassment, I whimpered.

  The car crashed head-first into the tree. My body soared through the windshield, shattering the glass as it was broken and mangled. My figure flew and then came to land upon the damp, wet grass about twenty feet from the car. Blood covered the crumpled hood, sending rivers of red to travel and wind through the crevices of damaged metal.

  I stared at the body lying motionless. One leg was at an odd position, with part of a bone sticking out through the ripped and bloodied denim it was encased in. Shaking, stilted gasps could be heard from the dying body of my former self, as my vantage point moved again.

  Now, I was above my body, looking down at myself as I took my final breaths. The dying me stared up at the living me, his eyes pleading with mine, please, end me now.

  The scene shifted until I was suddenly looking at a cemetery. A fresh grave was off to the right, with the new headstone bearing my name.

  James Dean Matheson.

  And then suddenly, there was blackness. Nothing. The entire surface of the mirror had turned to black. I squinted my eyes, searching for the next image, and then there it was. A small light, shining in the center of the mirror. It flickered like a candle, and soon the blackness began to eke out, until all that I saw was a soft yellow glow and the smile of a beautiful, dark-haired little girl who sat playing by herself in a playground.

  “Rosalind,” I breathed.

  Her smile was infectious as she looked up at me and waved. My heart melted a millionth time, as it always did when I had this memory. It was the first time I'd ever seen her, and the first time I had been seen after my death.

  My heart became hers forever in that moment, even if it was more of a big brother type of love while she was little. I never expected my feelings to grow over time, but they did. I never expected to love her so completely, or for her to love me back… but she did. It was pure and amazing, and I would do anything and everything in my power to get it back.

  The images in the mirror shifted once again, moments of Rosalind’s childhood flashing by quickly until the night her stepfather killed her mother. Then, the scenes slowed, allowing everyone in the room to witness what Derek had done, and what I had done to stop him.

  Suddenly, a fog filled the mirror’s image, dissipating long enough to show a close-up of Parker Evans, looking off to his left with an intense expression.

  Parker? I thought. Why is he here?

  The mirror’s “camera” pulled away to reveal a horror I remembered from my time behind the veil. Parker had placed a spell over my spirit to prevent Roz from seeing me. It had sent me to that realm just behind the physical world, the place where the boogeyman was real and your nightmares came true.

  Parker was sitting on the hard, frozen ground, knees pulled up and arms wrapped around them. He was shivering, his lips a slight blue. He was searching the surrounding area for something, but I couldn't say what. The sky was a dull, rust color, the trees completely black and dead. Things flew in the sky making horrific screeching sounds. No, they were not birds. I couldn't say what they were, exactly. Demons, maybe. I never had a good look at them while I was there, myself. I had managed to hide in a series of caves, going undetected until The Pastels were able to bring me back.

  I watched in complete curiosity as Parker kept searching, and then the sound of a branch breaking came from the right and his head whipped to the side. He convulsed and stood to run, but not before looking directly at me beyond the mirror, and yelled, “Get me out of here, Jimmy! I beg you!”

  With that, I dropped the mirror to the table with a loud clang as everyone in the room gasped and the candles were snuffed out.

  Chapter 19

  ~Jimmy~

  “What happened?! What just happened?” I shouted in panic as the lights came back on, thanks to the most amazing Erica who had the foresight to flip the switch quickly.

  “Relax,” Nicole said, patting me on the back. “When the power leaves me, the candles die out. It happens,” she added a nonchalant shrug.

  “Okay,” I said slowly, and took a deep breath. “What was all of that with Parker? Did you guys see that?” I took more deep breaths, trying to calm the odd buzz suddenly circulating throughout my body.

  Jess nodded. “We saw it. We saw everything. Your death, the first time you found Roz, the terrible thing her step-dad did to her….” Her voice trailed off and she wiped a tear from her eye.

  “So, we know one thing is for certain,” Devon announced. “You are, in fact, Jimmy.”

  She glanced to the others and each one nodded in agreement.

  I breathed in relief. Finally they believed me. It was a weight off my shoulders that couldn't be equaled in words. The strange electricity within my body continued to hum as I grappled with the knowledge that the one person I nee
ded to believe me wasn't here. And she should have been.

  I immediately looked toward Nicole.

  “Can we do this again?” I asked. “But with Roz here next time?”

  She looked at me as she resumed her seat.

  “Is Roz a witch?” She asked.

  “Well no,” I replied, “But neither am I, technically.”

  “A non-witch, or non-warlock, won't be able to see the things the mirror shows,” she explained, as she reached forward to retrieve the mirror from where I'd dropped it. “And technically, you are.”

  She inspected the mirror briefly, gave a quick smile when there appeared to be no signs of damage, and held it firmly in her grasp.

  “This mirror is spelled for witches and warlocks to find discernment when needed,” she explained. “Only witches. The fact that you- the real you- is not a witch, is inconsequential, considering you are trapped within a very powerful body.”

  “Nicole,” Cindy said, “Why did Parker appear at the end? He is obviously trapped too, like Jimmy. But where? And how could he have known Jimmy was using the mirror? He'd have to have known, in order to call out to him like that.”

  “Indeed,” Nicole said darkly. “From the looks of it, he appears to be in a very dangerous place. It’s quite mysterious.”

  I shook my head. “Yes, it is dangerous,” I said. “I’ve been to that place. It’s the same place he sent me to when he cast a spell to prevent Roz from seeing me while I was still a ghost.”

  The Pastels stared at me. “You mean, he's trapped behind the veil?” Erica asked.

  I nodded. “I'll never forget the horrors there. It's exactly the same place I was sent to.” A shudder of the odd electricity passed through my body as I spoke, which I immediately dismissed as nerves. This day had been crazy and it was finally catching up to me.

  Nicole considered my words for several moments before speaking.

  “You must be connected to him, spiritually, in order for him to have felt your presence and call out for help.” She tapped her long nails on the table. “Parker Evans being locked away, behind the veil, is nothing less than he deserves. However, what I would like to discover is how he got there.”

 

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