by Carly Fall
A sharp knock on the bathroom door brought him out of his reverie.
“Don’t be selfish, Connor,” Dedou called. “Hurry and finish so others in the house also have hot water.”
Exhaustion seemed to cripple his bones, and he turned off the scalding spray. As he stepped from the tub, he realized he had forgotten his pajamas. He quickly dried off and hung the towel. As he walked into the bedroom, he found Dedou sitting on the mattress, a steaming cup and bowl on the nightstand.
He stopped in his tracks, caught completely off guard by her presence.
“What the hell?” he yelled as he tried to cover himself.
A small grin turned her lips as her gaze slowly raked over him.
With a nod, she stood. “Very nice. You are strong. The tea will help you sleep. You meet me downstairs in the morning.”
As she left, shutting the door behind her, he shook his head. That woman seemed to grow stranger by the moment, and she obviously had no respect for personal space.
He slipped on his pajamas and sat down on the mattress. With his size, sleeping in a twin bed would be a tight fit, but he’d also slept in one in Vegas. Besides, at least it was a mattress with something on the inside besides springs, as it had been in his former apartment. It was also a huge step up from the earth in some country far away from home. No doubt about it—he’d slept in a lot worse.
As he looked around the room, he sipped his tea, a nasty tasting brew. He hoped that trusting what Joe Smith had said—that he truly had a place within this organization—had been the right thing to do. He didn’t fully understand all the details, but because of his ability, it seemed as if he’d fit in well, as if he’d have a purpose.
He finished the tea, drank a little of the broth, and then laid down and waited for sleep to take him.
* * *
A blast of cool air ran over his body, almost as if someone had turned a fan on him, just for a brief moment. He rolled over and pulled the covers up over his shoulder. Another cool breeze blew over him, and he opened his eyes to find out where the offending air had come from.
Sitting up, he rubbed his eyes as his stomach clenched in fear and his heart seemed as if it would beat right out the front of his chest.
Before him, three ghostly couples swayed to music he couldn’t hear. Completely black and white and translucent, they wore vintage clothing from the Victorian era, the women in long, billowing gowns, their hair piled on top of their heads, the men in cravats and waistcoats. They laughed and talked as they spun around the room.
He didn’t know if what he saw was real. In fact, his first thought had been that Dedou had given him tea to make him hallucinate. Now, he just didn’t know because the past year, he’d been dead sober, and he’d still seen some pretty strange stuff. He debated getting up and slipping out of the room, but what if that only upset the ghostly forms? What would they do, then? Eat off his face?
He decided to sit very still, his heart thundering in his chest.
After an hour, his fear eventually faded, and it became apparent that the festivities had ended for the evening. The apparitions bowed to each other, and then slowly began to fade away. He sat in the dark staring into the dead space before him.
Taking a deep breath, he lay back down and hoped the rest of the night wouldn’t be quite so active.
Yet, the ghosts seemed to fit in quite well with Dedou and her Voodoo shop.
5
The next morning, Connor woke feeling surprisingly refreshed, despite the hallucinations, which he tried to push from his mind. He did his daily push-ups and sit-ups, then showered and dressed. He had to admit, sliding on fresh clothing felt really nice.
He opened the bedroom door and came face to face with the man from last night.
“Hey,” Connor said, hoping this guy would be flesh and blood, and stuck out his hand.
The man narrowed his gaze and eyed him warily, as if he didn’t trust him. If the guy had seen the dancing ghosts last night, he fully understood the suspicion. Maybe he wondered if Connor was real, or more of the weird shit that seemed to go on in this place.
“My name’s Connor.”
“Hey. I’m Mateo.”
Their palms met, and Connor relaxed a little at the warmth. He had to admit, the guy did look a bit tired, like he’d been up all night. Connor once again wondered if Mateo had had the same experience as him in the early morning hours.
“You here for Operation Underworld?” Mateo asked.
He nodded. “Yeah. I’m supposed to meet with Dedou right now.”
Mateo lowered his voice and crossed his arms over his chest. “I just accepted my assignment.”
Was it possible Mateo could be his partner?
“What’s your assignment?”
“Demons.”
Connor furrowed his brow. He sure wouldn’t want to tackle demons. Vampires were bad enough.
“Well, good luck with that one.”
“You?” Mateo asked.
“Vampires.”
He chuckled at the absurdity of the discussion, and Mateo smirked.
“Never thought I’d ever have a serious conversation with anyone about vampires and demons.”
Connor nodded and smiled. “No kidding.”
Mateo clapped his shoulder. “Good luck. I think we’ll both need it.”
They shook hands again, and Connor turned to the sweeping staircase. Mateo seemed like an okay guy, and that made him feel a little better about being in the strange house and accepting the assignment to hunt vampires.
At the bottom, Dedou waited for him.
“You’re late,” she said, anger lacing her voice.
He didn’t bother to apologize. As far as he was concerned, she didn’t deserve one, and probably should be offering her own mea culpa. Following her stunt last night after his shower and the fact that she had probably drugged him to make him hallucinate the dancing ghosts made him wonder about her sanity. He eyed her carefully, feeling very distrustful of her. “I didn’t know I was supposed to be down here at a certain time.”
She motioned for him to follow her into the voodoo shop. As she sat behind the desk, he took the chair in front of it.
They stared at each other a moment, then she spoke. “Did you enjoy the Dance of the Dead?”
His heart skipped a beat. Did the fact she knew what he’d seen last night mean that it had been real?
She obviously looked for some type of reaction from him, but he wouldn’t give it to her.
“Very much.”
“Excellent.”
She sipped from a black mug as she continued to gaze at him.
“Have you made your decision?” she asked.
He nodded and took a deep breath, feeling as though his next words would change his world even further. He just hoped it was for the best. “I accept.”
She picked up the receiver out of the cradle of the old, black, rotary phone and waited for a moment. Then, she handed it to him.
As she stood to leave, he knew his day would only be getting weirder.
He brought the receiver to his face. “Hello?”
“Connor, my name’s Charlie. I wanted to welcome you to the organization and tell you about your assignment.”
How odd. He would think he’d meet the guy in charge face-to-face. And wasn’t there something on TV a long time ago … yes. Charlie’s Angels. He glanced around the room to make sure he wasn’t on some hidden camera reel because right now, he felt pretty foolish accepting an assignment while talking to a guy named Charlie on the phone—just like they did in television show.
“Okay.”
“We’ve done our research on you, and we’re very pleased with your decision to join Operation Underworld. I think you’ll make a great addition to our group.”
He looked around the empty shop, half expected the camera crew to jump out from a wall at any second. “Uh, thank you. What’s my assignment?”
“There are people going missing from the Los Angeles
nightclubs, and you are going to find out why.”
He furrowed his brow. It didn’t make any sense. “People go missing every day. Why do you think it’s vampire related?”
Charlie sighed. “I’m not a hundred percent sure, but we’re working on it. Sending you there with your ability, we’ll know right away.”
It seemed like a waste of time to put someone on a plane without being a hundred percent sure of the assignment, but it wasn’t his call.
“Okay. When do I leave?”
“After Dedou performs a Gad.”
He really wanted nothing more to do with the woman, and he certainly didn’t want her ‘performing’ anything on him. Having no idea what a Gad could be, the more space he put between himself and Dedou, the happier he’d be.
“I’m good. I don’t need that.”
“It’s required, Connor. It’s a ceremony in which Dedou asks the spirits to protect you. It takes just a few moments, and it helps, especially when dealing with paranormal entities as we do.”
With a sigh, he rubbed his face and shut his eyes. Part of him wanted to just walk out the front door of this nuthouse, but a more prevalent part of him wanted to move forward with the organization. He knew bad vampires existed, and he wanted to be the one to take them down. As he remembered the woman who had had her throat ripped open in the alley in Vegas, he could smell the coppery stench of her fresh blood as if her body lay somewhere in the deep darkness of Dedou’s shop. He had the ability to stop crimes like that from happening, and now, he had an organization behind him. He wouldn’t be alone any longer.
“Fine. Dedou can wave her magic wand and hocus pocus me, but I’d like to leave as soon as possible.”
“Fair enough. You’ll leave tonight after the ceremony.”
A bit of relief washed through him. At least, he could look forward to saying goodbye to crazy Dedou.
“And Connor … when you accept the assignment, it’s imperative that you keep the organization secret—you tell no one of our existence. Do you understand?”
He wondered what would happen if he did happen to mention it to anyone, but decided not to ask. “Yes.”
“Goodbye, Connor. We’ll talk soon.”
He set the phone down and glanced up to see Dedou in the doorway. She looked him over and then smiled. “You come and eat kabrit stew.”
As his stomach growled a bit, he realized he did feel a little hungry. However, he didn’t trust Dedou.
“What’s kabrit?” he asked.
“Goat. Come.”
His stomach roiled, all hunger suddenly disappearing. However, he followed. He wouldn’t eat goat, but maybe he could talk her into a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
6
The stars shone brightly above as wispy clouds wafted by. Connor sat beside Mateo on a log by a lit fire pit in the courtyard of Dedou’s house. The flames danced and crackled.
Dedou had told them both to be outside after dark, and they’d done as she’d asked. However, the woman didn’t seem to have any sense of time. It had been after dark for about an hour and a half now, and he was losing his patience.
“I’m going inside,” he muttered.
“I’m right behind you,” Mateo agreed.
Just as they stood, the back door opened. Dedou sauntered out, her dark eyes glinting in the firelight. She bowed her head at them and motioned for them to sit.
Connor glanced over at Mateo, and he could tell the man had also come close to losing his patience. He stared at Dedou with a hard gaze and his lips in a tight, thin line, but then slowly lowered himself onto the log once again.
Connor sat down and rubbed his face, sighing.
Dedou smiled. “You’re both on time. Excellent.”
He shook his head. He would either strangle this woman where she stood, or he’d get out of here and never, ever return.
“Let us begin,” Dedou said as she lit some incense, walked around the fire pit, and placed one stick down on the ground next to him and one next to Mateo. Then, she returned to her original place and closed her eyes.
She stood in silence for a moment, then slowly slipped a knife from the sleeve of her long, blue dress as she began to sway.
He glanced over at Mateo, who had a furrow in his brow deeper than the Grand Canyon. Connor guessed his thoughts paralleled his own: What the hell would she do with the knife?
Her eyes opened and she stared into the flames, her black skin shining and glowing in the firelight. The night seemed to have gone completely silent. He didn’t hear cars on the roads, the chirp of crickets, or even the buzzing of a mosquito. It was as if he’d been sealed in a soundproof box. He could barely see the whites of Dedou’s eyes as her gaze never left the dancing blaze. For a few moments, she did not blink, nor did she stop swaying,
Suddenly, her gaze raked over both of them, and he felt some type of power emanating from her. It seemed to encircle them, and as heat moved through his body, it was as if the warmth from the fire penetrated his chest and floated out his back. As he looked over at Mateo again, the man met his stare with a wide gaze. Thank God. He felt it, as well.
“I have asked the spirits to protect you in your quest to rid the world of evil entities,” Dedou whispered as she raised her hands above her head, gripping the hilt of the knife as if she offered it up to her gods.
Lowering her hands to her side, she approached Connor. “They have agreed to guard you, but you need a Ko. You need the sign of their protection branded in your skin.”
Once again, he wanted to run as far away from this crazy-ass woman as he could, but he found himself mesmerized by her dark eyes. He couldn’t look away, and suddenly, he found it difficult to move.
He felt no fear—in fact, it was as if a good dose of morphine had traveled through his veins, rendering his limbs completely useless. He’d been removed from his own body, his extremities filled with cement.
He watched in detached fascination as she took his right hand in her left, turning it so his palm faced upward. She muttered an incantation in a language he didn’t understand as the silver blade pierced his skin at his wrist. His blood spilled onto the dirt, but strangely enough, he couldn’t feel any pain as he observed it. Usually, blood spilling from his body—especially from a place like his wrist—would cause a bit of panic. Instead, he found himself mesmerized by the pool of crimson forming at his feet.
Dedou continued chanting softly under her breath as she reached into the pocket of her dress and pulled out a pinch of something that reminded him of parsley, or maybe like the sage he’d burned. She gently rubbed it into the wound, and he watched in amazement as the substance began to turn white and bubble, almost as if it had morphed into foamy soap.
He glanced over at Mateo who observed the whole ritual with a combination of horror and interest written on his face, and Connor wondered if Mateo felt the same odd sensation of not being able to move combined with a semi-lobotomy. He guessed yes, because if Connor witnessed Dedou performing her ceremony on Mateo, he’d be out of here faster than she could blink.
He stared as Dedou wiped his blood from the knife on the front of her dress, then performed the same procedure on Mateo. The guy was damn lucky Connor didn’t have any fun diseases like hepatitis or AIDS.
After completing it, she went back to the other side of the fire and smiled. “You’ll feel better soon, and now you both have your Ko. It will protect you from negative wanga, and the Iwa will act as your personal bodyguard of sorts. You are to leave as soon as you are able.”
As he stared at the cross carved into his wrist, he considered that she had probably just given him sepsis or some other deadly disease. Who knew who—or what—else that damn blade had cut before him?
Dedou took her knife, snubbed out the incense, and returned inside the house.
As the fire began to die down, his body slowly returned to normal. Blood gradually washed away the cement that seemed to be stuck within him, and his head cleared. He gazed at his wrist—that surpri
singly still didn’t hurt—even though he’d just been branded.
Mateo cleared his throat. “Well, that was … different.”
“That was fucked up,” he murmured.
“Yeah,” Mateo said with a chuckle.
“What’s wanga and Iwa?”
Mateo shrugged. “I don’t know.”
They sat in silence for a few moments, then the back door opened again. Dedou came marching out, a cross look on her face. “You get out, now! Go fight your battles! You’re no longer welcome here tonight!”
Connor stood, as did Mateo. They exchanged glances once again, and without another word, they filed into the house.
“Hey, Dedou? What’s a wanga and an Iwa?” Connor asked.
“Bad spells. Good, protective spirits. Nothing that concerns you.”
Two black duffle bags lay by the front door. Considering he’d arrived with nothing but the clothes on his back, he wondered what could be in them.
Dedou laid a hand on each of their backs, giving them a slight push. “The cars are outside. You both go now.”
He leaned over and picked up the one with his name on it, then walked out into the night.
When he reached the sidewalk, he turned to Mateo. “I don’t know what the hell just happened there, but good luck with your assignment.”
Mateo stuck out his hand and nodded. “You, too. She’s a strange one, huh?”
Connor looked back up at the house. Dedou stood in the doorway with her arms crossed over her chest.
As far as he was concerned, no truer words had ever been said.
“You got that right.”
7
As he unpacked in his new apartment, exhaustion pulled at him. He’d flown all night to get to Los Angeles. A driver had met him and taken him to his new digs. Although he’d tried to sleep during the flight, he hadn’t been successful.
