Society for Paranormals

by Vered Ehsani

  Despite her gaseous eruptions and predilection for devastating flowering plants, Nelly was impressively equipped with the powers of the lightning spirits: speed and flight.

  Neglecting to bade farewell to the Elkharts, I departed with one intention: I desired to put as much distance between myself and anyone who might know me, so that I might wallow in my despair without fear of being questioned.

  There’s nothing like a race through the clouds to freshen the mind and saturate the clothes. Unshed raindrops collected on my outer jacket and in my hair; the feather in my sunhat flopped limply about my head. Some of the moisture trickled down my face.

  How desperately, dangerously alone my mother had been. I’d once felt the bitterness of that sensation while in Lagos as Koki stalked me through a building swimming in the blood of decapitated men.

  Nelly snorted, partially reared and surged to one side.

  What had my mother feared?

  “Enough of that,” I said, gritted my teeth and spurred Nelly to greater speeds.

  Clouds blurred, lightning flashed and I could barely breathe from the force of the wind that threatened to unseat me, and that suited me very well. My eyes teared up, so I lowered myself against Nelly’s neck and closed them.

  It’s the past, I reminded myself. It’s done and gone.

  But it wasn’t really. No matter how rapidly Nelly flew across the sky, she couldn’t outrun the truth that clung to me: my mother had feared the very Society that had nurtured and developed me. How was this possible?

  …she and her husband had been killed under violent and, may I say, suspicious circumstances.

  Was this the work of the Society? Surely not. Despite being a werewolf and therefore stinking like a wet dog, Prof. Runal had cared for me and given me purpose in an otherwise meaningless existence of limited, womanly duties that I’d wanted nothing to do with.

  Yet my resignation had spurred him to venture forth from London.

  He was on his way.

  I opened my eyes, not noticing the approaching earth. He was on his way, and I would be prepared for him. There were questions to be answered, and I’d be damned if he’d talk his way around them as he was wont to do.

  Thudding hooves accompanied the decision. We’d landed. As I straightened up, I gazed around in bewilderment, for I hadn’t the faintest clue where we were.

  “Nelly, where have you brought us?” I asked.

  The horse merely snorted, shook her head and thrust her head into a flowering bush. I knew her appetite well enough to realize we weren’t going anywhere for a while.

  I slid off and took measure of the surroundings. It was a lush jungle setting, noisy with birdcalls and soft rustling in the thick undergrowth. The air was terribly warm and humid. The act of breathing alone was too much exertion, and my skin was slick with sweat within a few steps. I’d only experienced this level of horrible humidity in two places. One was Mombasa, but at least there had been a breeze to provide some meager relief.

  The other had been Lagos.

  “No,” I whispered and glanced back at Nelly. Had the horse picked up on my intense thought of Lagos, and directed herself there?

  Confident that the horse wouldn’t wander too far away from her meal, I forced myself through the sizzling air and unruly vegetation toward what looked like the top of a slope. Gnats buzzed into my nose and ears, while some thorny plant scratched at any exposed skin.

  By the time I reached the summit, I was a sticky, sweaty, scratched-up, bug-infested mess, and I was a few hours’ ride from Lagos.

  I stared at the small town huddled on one of the delta islands at the edge of the jungle, and marveled that anyone would willingly live in this place.

  Perhaps they remained because they didn’t realize what was lurking in the shadows of the trees.

  But I knew.

  “Blast it, Nelly,” I hollered as I sprinted down the slope, swatting at the branches with my walking stick and cursing all things supernatural as I went. “I don’t care if you’re starving, we’re leaving. We’re…”

  My boot caught against a root and I was temporarily airborne again. I landed with such force as to push all breath out of me. I lay sprawled amongst the decaying leaves and other organic matter, the thick scent of it cloying, smothering me in life-giving death.

  I pushed myself up and yelped. I bit down on my lip, swallowing the pain that pulsed from my ankle.

  “There is no enduring this vexatious jungle,” I muttered to distract my attention from my injury as I glanced about for my stick.

  As is the way of things, the stick was several yards away, having somehow flown from my grasp and defying gravity long enough to be out of reach. I hopped over, cussing the whole way in an undignified display of fear disguised as irritation.

  Leaning on my stick, I hobbled the rest of the way, too engrossed in the throbbing soreness to take heed of what was happening around me. Only as I approached the place I’d left Nelly did it dawn on me that the usual clatter of jungle life had vanished, replaced with an impossible silence.

  “Nelly?” I called out, softly though. “If you’re still alive, make some noise, you intolerable nag.”

  There was no response.

  While I required my stick for balance, I had greater need of its weapons. Leaning against a tree and ignoring the fearsomely large ants marching up and down its bark, I pushed two of the fingernails of the bronze fist. From the other end, a short blade slid out.

  Limping from tree to tree, I entered the space where I’d left Nelly. The horse was alive but not alone. An African woman stood nearby scrutinizing the horse, which showed no interest at all and continued eating. Then again, Nelly could be surrounded by horse-eating lions and not be fussed about it.

  “Hello?” I asked, holding my stick before me like a long sword.

  The woman swiveled about, unconcerned by my appearance or my weapon. Beautiful and dark, her hair cropped short against her scalp, she possessed all the graceful strength that the human form could manifest. As our gazes met, she smiled.

  “Oh no,” I breathed out and leaned against another tree to support my wobbling legs.

  “Hello again, little girl,” Koki crooned.

  Chapter 8

  Koki the Mantis, wife of Anansi the Spider, was as implacably horrifying as she was exotically enchanting. This I knew from experience.

  “Koki,” I said, although my voice had a trace of a squeak to it, which spoiled the brave effect I’d hoped to achieve.

  Koki laughed softly, seeing through my bravado and straight into my terror.

  “How are all your little friends?” she asked as she stepped away from Nelly and toward me.

  “They still have their heads on,” I said.

  “Lovely,” she purred. “That way, I’ll have the pleasure of removing them.”

  “Lovely,” I repeated, the throbbing of my ankle mild in comparison to the pounding of my heart.

  “An interesting animal you’ve procured,” she observed, pointing at Nelly but her large, dark eyes fixed on me. “I noticed it flying down from the sky and felt compelled to view it close at hand.”

  She lowered her chin and glanced at me coyly from under short, thick eyelashes. “Imagine my astonishment, my delight, when I recognized the horse. I’d assumed I’d never see you here again, for what in creation could induce you to return to my dominion?”

  I nodded. What indeed. I’d have to have a chat with Nelly regarding that specific question, if I survived this encounter. I wondered when Koki would shift into her giant Mantis form and decapitate me. Or would that be too merciful? I had after all deprived her of one of her six legs. I did wish she’d forgive my imprudence and proceed with forgetting about me.

  “Yes,” she murmured. “Imagine my astonishment and delight.”

  “Yes, imagine,” I said.

  By my side, the energy of a wolf formed. Its presence was mildly reassuring.

  “I’m in a bit of a rush, Koki, so if you don’
t mind,” I said and waved a hand to indicate that she should remove herself from my path, preferably by running off to the other side of the planet.

  “I’m sure you are,” she said and took another step toward me. “But it’s been a while since we had a chance to chat.” She glanced at the wolf. “And that one. I remember you very well. You won’t get under my defenses again quite so easily.”

  She clapped her hands together and a ball of energy appeared. As she spun it in her grasp, it grew.

  “Go fetch, doggie,” she said and threw the ball at my wolf. I felt the howl in my limbs, and then the wolf was gone. I was alone.

  “I’m old, little girl, so very old,” Koki said, her eyes glittering darkly.

  “I’ve always considered it unseemly to discuss age,” I said, wondering where this conversation was leading, apart from my death.

  She laughed, a deep, throaty laugh that some men would probably find attractive. Then again, men have horrible judgment at times.

  “And rightly so,” she agreed. “But my age has allowed me to experience many marvels. I’ve lived in some of your cities, you know. Horrid, filthy little hovels.” She shuddered. “There were men who mistook me for a slave. That was the last mistake they made.”

  She smiled and licked her lips at whatever dastardly memories she’d conjured up for herself. I wondered how many headless bodies had been uncovered over the centuries in European cities, how many unsolved crimes.

  I gripped my stick with both hands, leaned against the tree at my back and raised the stick so that the blade was aimed at her heart. That would’ve been very helpful if the blade could be shot out of the stick, or if she’d conveniently run forward and rammed her chest onto the sword. Alas, neither was a possibility but it made me feel better to have a weapon. At least I wouldn’t die without a fight.

  And Mr. Timmons would have no idea what happened to me.

  My throat clenched at the thought. Would he imagine I’d abandoned him? Surely not, for he’d trust that I’d tell him to his face rather than hide somewhere.

  Yet who would think to search for me on the other side of the continent?

  I glanced at Nelly who continued eating. Perhaps if the glutton would fly home, she could bring Kam here. He’d understand her.

  There was a flutter of movement, my stick was smacked aside and Koki’s face hovered before mine, her hands pinning my wrists forcibly against the tree.

  “You are out of practice,” she noted with a chuckle.

  It was a fair observation. I’d let my gaze drift for a fraction of a moment from my adversary, and that was all the time she’d required.

  “I’ll correct that for the next time we meet,” I promised.

  Koki flung her head back and laughed. If I’d only had a knife, I’d have slit her neck there and then, but my fully loaded walking stick was lying near my boots.

  “You are so entertaining, little girl,” she said after she’d recovered from her laughing fit. “So much so that I will allow you passage home.”

  “Really,” I said, skeptical at the idea that she’d release me to go anywhere but to my painful death.

  Her plump lips pushed out in a pout. “Well, the truth is Anansi has forbidden me to kill you just yet. Wretched old spider.”

  “That’s good news,” I said, wondering what game Anansi was playing at. Whatever his intention, it wasn’t for my benefit, of that I could be sure.

  Koki smiled with anticipation, confirming my fear. “On the other hand, I do believe in that ancient concept of an eye for an eye.”

  I glanced down at my legs, still attached to the rest of me. “If you were to carry that out literally and remove one of my limbs, I’d most certainly die.”

  “And it seems I’m forbidden to do that,” Koki mused. “I am compelled to hold back from exacting due payment. Such a shame you humans are so frail.”

  “Indeed,” I said. I resisted the temptation to look over to Nelly.

  Her smile deepened into something hideously beautiful and she leaned to me, as if to kiss my cheek. “Yes, the fat arachnid has forbidden me from killing you.” She paused, savoring my poorly disguised terror. “But…”

  She let the word linger in the unnatural stillness. The jungle and I waited for her to continue. Her smile softened as she peered into my eyes and whispered, “But he hasn’t forbidden me from hurting you.”

  Chapter 9

  Clouds and darkness. Lightning and thunder. Ice and fire.

  Wind whipping skin. A fierce neighing that defeats the thunder, that outraces the wind.

  Horse hooves striking the ground. Lightning striking the sky.

  Rain and tears stinging. Fire and ice burning and drowning together.

  Someone screaming. Pain so severe it ceases to be felt. Until the next wave. Until a movement and all disappears into darkness.

  Light pierces the darkness.

  A face looming over mine. Kam the Lightning God.

  “Miss Knight,” a bodiless voice whispers. “It is not your time to die.”

  More movement. More screaming.

  Disembodied voices, meaningless murmurings of air.

  “…hand… hurry…”

  “…don’t tell…”

  “…come back now…”

  “…Be-e-e-e… Br-r-r-r…”

  A soft furry hand touching my face, cooling the fire, easing the ice. Until the next movement.

  And I scream.

  Chapter 10

  I’m floating.

  I recognize the place, but can’t for the life of me remember why I’m here again, or how. I don’t remember anything but the darkness, and for some reason I welcome it. Neither hot nor cold, neither movement nor stillness, simply existing. It just is.

  I just am.

  Who are you? I ask.

  But it doesn’t matter, I respond. It no longer matters. You’re here now, here to stay.

  I tussle with that idea. I’m certain there’s something of consequence I should be doing. The darkness embraces me, muffling these treacherous thoughts.

  This is what you’re supposed to be doing, it seems to tell me as it soothes me into a soft, gentle oblivion. This is a great improvement over what awaits you outside.

  Outside?

  I glance about, searching for a source of light. There should be light somewhere. I remember that from… before. I’ve been here before. I’ve…

  The darkness deepens and weighs down on my senses. Perhaps it’s correct after all. Perhaps I’ll just stay here a little longer and…

  “Beatrice?”

  What’s she doing here? And what’s her name?

  A young woman with bright blue eyes hovers nearby, a light shining from her skin, hurting me, chasing away the magnificent darkness.

  There’s something I want to tell her, that I need to tell her, something about this place, but I can’t remember what anymore, which means it’s really not that crucial.

  “Beatrice,” another voice calls to me, disturbing the silence and stillness.

  Go away.

  “No, Beatrice,” it perseveres. A second light source appears, chasing away more of that beautiful darkness.

  You’re not supposed to be here, I tell them. This place isn’t yours.

  Then again, I’m sure it’s not mine either. Whose is it? Does it matter?

  “Beatrice,” the second voice says, insisting.

  I look to it, wanting to tell the handsome man to shut up and leave me alone, but I can’t.

  I know him. What is his name?

  Who are you people?

  “It’s me. Gideon,” the man says. “You need to leave this place. They’re waiting for you.”

  Gideon.

  That name is so familiar.

  “You hate me,” I say, and the noise of my voice startles me.

  “No,” Gideon says, his eyes radiating a light that reminds me of an emotion.

  Love? No, that can’t be right.

  “Yes it is,” he insists. “I c
ould never hate you, Bee. How could I when I cherish you so?”

  His words ease a sorrow I didn’t know I carried.

  “It was an accident,” I murmur. At least, I think it was. I can’t remember what transpired, as the memory exists outside of this space. But I know it wasn’t my fault.

  “I know,” Gideon says, his eyes fixed on me.

  “You need to leave, Bee,” the woman speaks. She’s pretty and I see another energy nestled within hers. “They need you outside. They’re waiting for you.”

  It’s too comfortable here, and as attractive as those two bright orbs of light are, I don’t want to go. I sink away from them. The darkness comforts, blocks pain, erases memory and other inconveniences of life. I continue to drop into the depths, and I will continue to do so.

  Except there’s a wolf following me.

  It’s pure energy, brighter than the other two, and it won’t leave me alone.

  It bites into my shoulder and drags me up, up, up into a world of light and pain and…

  I faint away.

  Chapter 11

  I awoke to pain and a furry face speaking with Mr. Timmons’ voice.

  That couldn’t be right, I thought, my mind as blurry as my vision. His sideburns were hairy but not that hairy.

  I tried to respond to the voice, to move, to indicate that I was listening, but my muscles refused to function. I focused on my hands, forcing them to clench, twitch, anything at all, and the result was a trip back into the dark space.

  …Voices stir through the murky void that is my new home, indistinct yet familiar. I know it’s wrong to stay, yet in that darkness there’s no pain.

  There’s no light either. Nor love…

  When I awoke again, the furry face was gone; sadly, the same couldn’t be said for the excruciating pain. Was I inside a fire pit, being roasted alive? Or perhaps the doctor thought I was dead and was performing an autopsy.

  This was what skinning a cat felt like, I mused. For the cat, that is.

  I pondered through the haze if fainting away might not be the best course of action, despite my general reluctance to perform such an act. I decided against it. Or rather, a certain, zebra-training doctor wouldn’t allow me.