Make Willing the Prey (Dreams by Streetlight)

by Lindsey, Luna

  Jina stroked his hair, and Sandy grinned. She barged into the room, and motioned the others to follow.

  “Not far now,” she said. “The main staircase is only a few rooms away, and we’re only one story up. We’ll be out within five minutes.”

  “Let’s race,” Jina said, nudging Lewis lightly in the ribs. “Come on.”

  “Not even!” Sandy shouted. “We are going to stay together. Follow me.”

  She led them to the next room.

  “I hope she knows where we’re going,” Lewis whispered. Their footsteps echoed through the empty room.

  “Of course she does,” Jina replied. “She’s Sandy. She’s a history major. Good memory. Has to have, to get all those dates and placed down. Say, did I tell you that you look good in my shirt?”

  “Nope. I don’t believe we had time for that before.”

  “Well, you look great.” Jina giggled.

  Honestly, Sandy thought, sometimes she is too bold. She heard more giggling behind her. Lewis laughed this time. They were tickling each other.

  The door in front of her stood open. She entered, and stopped. Hmm, funny. The room was plain, bare, except for a spiral staircase that led upwards. The main stairs should be here, but they weren’t. Were the rooms shifting again? Impossible! she affirmed. The blueprints are accurate. Everything else is illusion. The blueprints are the only reality. These stairs should not be here.

  Lewis chased Jina back and forth through the door. How was she supposed to concentrate with them screwing around like children? Great, now I have to babysit an unstable lunatic and a little girl.

  “Get back in here, you two. Stay together, remember?” Fuck.

  Bodies hit the wall on the other side. The tickling had likely turned into a make-out session. From the sound of it, a lot of pent up passion was being released.

  “Jina!” Sandy barked. She started to step back through, but the door began to close on her. No unseen force this time, just two new lovers sweeping it shut in their blind lust. Sandy tried to act fast, but it swung completely closed before she could stop it. She attempted to open it but they leaned against it.

  “Open the door, Jina,” Sandy commanded in an exasperated tone. “We have to go back the other way.”

  “Uhh… Sorry.” There was some giggling, and the knob rattled. “I can’t… I think it’s locked.”

  “Why didn’t you think about that before closing the thing?”

  Jina dropped her bag on the floor. “Don’t worry, I can get it unlocked. I’ll use my magic fingers on it.”

  “You have magic fingers?” came Lewis’s muffled voice from behind the door. “Do you think you could show me how they work sometime?”

  “Stop flirting and get to work,” she said.

  “I’m on it.” She heard clicking in the lock as Jina tried to pick it.

  “Lewis?” It was Jina’s muffled voice. “What’s wrong?”

  Suddenly Lewis was screaming. His voice got farther away.

  “Jina? What’s going on?”

  “Sorry, I don’t know what… I have to go get him.” Sandy heard a scuffle.

  “No, Jina, don’t you leave me! This is stupid!” she shouted, slamming her palm against the door. “Come back!”

  Sandy glanced at the staircase and then back at the door. She kicked the door violently but it was made of solid wood and would not yield.

  “Fuck you, Jina,” she muttered. She turned towards the stairs.

  The old stairs creaked as Sandy ascended the spiral into a washroom.

  The floor was tiled in pure white ceramic. A porcelain sink with shiny brass faucets posed on one side, and an old style clawed foot bathtub perched on four feet in the corner. Sandy ran her fingers through her hair, craving a warm bath. But she kept moving.

  Aside from the opening for the stairs, the only egress from the washroom was a dark wooden door to the side of the sink. Sandy turned the painted porcelain handle and stepped into the next room.

  The room smelled old, the good kind of old, like you’d find in your grandmother’s attic. Unlike every other room in the house, this one was nicely furnished. Neat rugs lay on the hardwood floor. A matching chest of drawers and vanity sat on opposing sides of the room. Light colored doilies contrasted against their dark finishes, and dried flowers lay carelessly on their surfaces. A wardrobe stood next to the bathroom door. Sandy guessed that it housed Victorian, or probably Edwardian, dresses.

  But the most breathtaking piece of furniture in the room was the bed. Dark cherry wood posts supported a lacey canopy. Off-white linen draped softly and casually over the edge of the canopy while brown grapevines twisted around the top. Interspersed through the vines sagged little blue flowers. One of the vines wound down around one of the posts to the bed. The bedspread itself radiated soft blue, offset by the laced antique-white pillows.

  Something fluttered. Somethings fluttered.

  Delicate blue-green butterflies floated about the room. They were everywhere. Hundreds of them, each an inch long, about the size of a common garden cabbage-moth. Those that weren’t busy filling the air clung to the bed, the vanity, the walls.

  The air began to smell lightly of old perfume.

  Sandy merely stood, silently captivated, but flinching inside, waiting for it to all turn horrible. A butterfly landed fearlessly on her hand. She looked at it closely. It batted its tiny glittery wings at her.

  After looking at it for a moment, she searched for another door. Of course there wasn’t one. The only way out was the locked door downstairs. Maybe one of the drawers held a key?

  Sandy approached the vanity. Besides the flowers and doilies, the top was littered with knickknacks: Three faded pictures in flowery frames, a powder box, perfume bottles, a silver-handled hairbrush.

  A medium-sized mirror captured her interest. It sat propped at an angle with dried flowers gathered at its base. The frame was made of tarnished silver. Vines wrapped around and through in an intricate design encircling her reflection. It somehow felt familiar. As if she had stared at it before… or as if it had stared at her.

  Where did that crazy thought come from? She shook her head and reminded herself where she was. …Find a key.

  She sat on the stool and started rifling through the small vanity drawers when a movement in the mirror caught her eye. At the same moment she felt a hand on her shoulder.

  She stood and whirled on S.A., staring him in the eye.

  “You let me go!”

  S.A. removed his hand and retreated slightly. His clothes looked a little neater. The tatters weren’t just mended — it was as if there had never been tatters. His top hat stood straight, his shirt was tucked in. Perhaps it was the light, but he seemed a little cleaner.

  He held out his hands in a friendly gesture. “I fear we may have gotten off on the wrong foot. I frequently tend to overreact. My… nature… gets the best of me.”

  “I don’t feel sorry for you.” Then to prove that her powers against him still worked, she made the butterflies disappear.

  “I don’t want you to feel sorry for me. Mainly, well… I just want you to like me.”

  “How could I like you after everything?”

  “I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t know any other way. I’ve never known any other way. I didn’t mean to hurt you and your friend.”

  “And Lewis? You didn’t mean to hurt him either?”

  He hesitated only for a moment, but Sandy noticed his evasion.

  “No harm will come to you in this room. It is… Seelie.”

  “Seelie?”

  “There is no word in English. Or in fact, in any human tongue. ‘Good’ is the word that comes closest to its meaning.”

  “Good is a simple enough concept.”

  “We fae, we are like you, but not anything like you. It’s hard to explain. You were offended by the methods I used bringing you here, but in my world, it would all have been fair under both seelie and unseelie code. However I was to harm you here, against you
r will, that would be unseelie.”

  “Why is this room seelie?”

  S.A. looked away and paused for a very long time. Finally he said, “This is my second favorite room. It was my mother’s room. I wanted you to see it.”

  “Why is it still here, untouched after all this time?”

  He again grew quiet. “Do you mind… much… if I bring the butterflies back? They give me a feeling of calm.”

  Sandy hesitated. “They calm me down, too. Like fish at the doctor’s office… Go ahead. But no creepy shit. Rules, just like in the dream last night. Got it?”

  “Thank you.” The butterflies reappeared, filling the room again with color. “Sandy, I don’t wish to harm you. I meant it when I said I loved you.”

  “Right. And being thrown against a wall? The knife? The punishments?”

  “The knife didn’t mark you. You know that it didn’t.”

  “It scared the shit out of me. And it hurt Lewis.”

  “It took a great act of will on my part, to keep that knife from cutting you.”

  “Then why do it in the first place? Any of it?”

  “I was angry. You were trying to leave.”

  “Of course I’m trying to l—”

  He had started crying. Sobbing, he curled in on himself and dropped to sitting on the floor. A butterfly landed on his shoulder and another on his hat.

  “What the… Ok, hey don’t cry. Hey.”

  “N-n-nobody loves me.”

  “That’s… that’s not true.”

  “Y-y-es it is. No one ever wants to visit me. N-no one ever stays.”

  In spite of herself, Sandy knelt beside him and put her hand on his back. The butterflies remained, unperturbed. “Listen S.A. if you want people to like you, you just have to go about it differently, that’s all. Invite people over, be nice to them, use your illusions to make them happy. Let them leave when they want.”

  “Really?” S.A. looked up at her with swollen eyes.

  “Yes. You could throw a party for instance. I’ll bet you could throw a killer party.”

  “But people… hurt me.”

  “Maybe because you hurt them.”

  S.A. broke down sobbing again. “It’s all my fault!” Sandy rolled her eyes but instinct and awkwardness led her to rub his shoulder.

  “Maybe… Maybe it wasn’t all your fault. People hurting you. Like. How did they hurt you?”

  He sat up straight then, no tears in his eyes, just fury. He ripped open his shirt, ripped off his coat. He stood, and she could see his torso covered in the same kinds of scars that adorned Lewis. But they were all beautiful. Spirals, knots, parallel lines. His translucent skin radiated with their designs.

  “S.A. I’m so sorry. Who did this to you?”

  “My mother.”

  “What? Your mother, the one who lived in this room? This seelie room?”

  “No. My step-mother. My… human mother.” His voice trembled with rage. Sandy shrunk back a little, and looked at the butterflies to make sure the illusions weren’t turning wicked. The room itself remained safe and lovely, in spite of S.A.’s shifting mood.

  “Human mother?”

  “She… deserved… suffering.”

  “Where is your fae mother?”

  “Tir Na Nog. She has always lived there, and always will.”

  “I’m confused.”

  “Good.” S.A. grinned wickedly at her.

  “Now that’s the sort of thing that makes people dislike you. Here I am, just trying to help, and you’re showing happiness at my discomfort.”

  He frowned then, and relaxed his shoulders.

  “Where is Tir Na Nog? From what I read, I thought this house was in the other world.”

  “It’s not. It’s just a house. This room is very close to Tir Na Nog, but it is not the place.”

  “Is it some kind of interdimensional thing? Is Tir Na Nog superimposed on reality? On earth?”

  “Something like that. But not exactly.”

  “See? Talking like rational beings isn’t so bad.”

  “So you’ll marry me?”

  Sandy laughed. “No.”

  “You promised.” S.A. looked angry again. But everything seemed safe enough. The butterflies remained butterflies.

  “I did, but that was under duress. I don’t like being coerced. Perhaps that’s not a fae concept. You see, when humans are forced to agree to something against their will, or tricked into agreeing to something, we don’t consider that fair play. It’s against the rules.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Poisoning me took something very valuable from me. It took my health and threatened to take my life. I had to choose between marriage and death. You see?”

  “But you weren’t really poisoned. That was illusion.”

  “Perhaps, but I had no way of knowing that.”

  S.A. poked at the floor thoughtfully. “We are so different, humans and fae. That’s what I love about you. But,” he looked into her eyes. “I want you to understand me.”

  “Well, if we talk enough… but—”

  “No talking. There is another way.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “I can show you my mind.”

  Sandy recoiled. She had no desire to see the ugly things that must exist in his head.

  A tear fell from S.A.’s eye. “I knew it. No one wants to understand me.”

  “No, that’s not it. Look, you have to understand if I’m a bit defensive after everything I’ve been through.”

  He nodded meekly. “What if I assure you that I will do nothing against your will?”

  “Don’t be silly. How would I know you will keep your promise?”

  S.A. reached into his pocket and pulled out a silver necklace. The pendant was a simple Celtic trinity knot. Sandy jerked back from it slightly.

  “I can’t accept any more gifts from you.”

  “It isn’t a gift. It’s a spell. If you let me place this around your neck, it will protect you, and I will be unable to do anything against your will.”

  “And I’m supposed to believe that?”

  “Fae are honor bound by such spells. Even imps. If you’d like, you can cast the spell yourself.”

  “How?”

  “The same way you made the butterflies disappear.”

  “Just believe it?”

  “Yes. Say these words, ‘I share your mind we think as one but nothing against / my will be done’. Say them three times, then put on the necklace.”

  Sandy eyed him skeptically.

  “Look it up in your book if you want to.”

  She weighed her options. Nothing bad had happened to her in this room, just like he had promised. Nothing even remotely creepy. The door downstairs was firmly locked, and there were no other obvious exits. The iron ring still weighed cooly on her finger. She knew how to make the illusions disappear.

  Armchair psychotherapy might be the only way out for her and her friends. And it wasn’t like she was letting him into her mind… She might convince him to let them go. Or she might learn something there that could help her escape.

  “I’ll do it.” Taking the necklace, she said the words three times, pouring her soul into each syllable:

  ‘I share your mind

  we think as one

  but nothing against

  my will be done’

  Then she placed the chain around her neck.

  Suddenly her point of view shifted. She saw herself out of his eyes. She felt delight, mirth, grin-inducing glee. Then she saw herself take on a worried look. There was no telling what she, herself, was feeling. She only knew S.A.’s world. His was her only perspective.

  Her first instinct was to go back to her own mind, but she didn’t know how. Then she was overcome with elation. It felt good to be S.A.

  A crow looked up from the bed with one eye cocked. Its small black claws dug into the lace pillow. A blue-green wing hung from its mouth. It plucked another butterfly from the air and ch
oked it down.

  S.A. stood and held out his hand, and she watched herself take it. He kissed it lightly. She tasted her own hand on his lips. He let go of her hand long enough to push aside the wardrobe to reveal a low secret door. He opened it, took her hand again, and led her through.

  “This… This is my favorite room.”

  The room remained dark until he sent a surge of energy through his body. She felt it too as it coursed through his veins. Candles lit. Thousands of white candles of every shape and size lit in brilliance. She didn’t know candlelight could be so bright. This room, this was his sanctuary, his unseelie place. No rules here.

  He looked down at her, she looked back up at him with the expression of naughty little child who was facing her father. She felt his power, felt the control he had over her. Total control. What a rush! Now she would be his thrall forever. No more loneliness, no more sadness, no more pain. She looked at the fear in her own eyes, and felt a swelling in her groin. How different it felt, a penis. What a powerful organ! What a frightened girl! What a lovely, beautiful, kind, innocent, brave, intelligent girl! All his!

  Pleasure zipped through him.

  He stepped up to her, and, unlike all the other times, she did not back away. Holding her chin, he kissed her. A tear rolled down her cheek, but she could not feel herself. Only him. Only his desire.

  She reveled in it. Sandy’s will was his. She would not flee.

  “Now, about our engagement…”

  He watched her nod. “We’ll be married soon. And I, well I do things a slightly different order.” He backed her up against the wall. There were no candles here, just the wood of an old, decaying wall. She wanted nothing more than to push this girl there, hold her there, pin her…

  Instead, he ripped her shirt off, ripped her bra away. Vines grew out of the wall, wrapping around her arms, holding her still. Can’t have the girl flinching, can’t have the body falling to the floor. She felt his overwhelming desire to crush her throat, but he tempered it. With deft control, he grabbed a candle and poured it over her shoulders, her breasts. She heard herself scream, she watched herself fight against the vines.