by Aline Riva
“And do thank Mr Stokes for allowing my party to come here tonight,” said Raine, as a tall, slender brunette girl in a black dress clutched at his hand and shifted closer to him as the shorter, blonde girl clung to his other hand, swaying in her high heels.
Then Raine frowned, feeling something in the air that silently filled him with dread:
It was like the approach of darkness, reminding him of the night of the storm and the terrible visions... He looked to the glass cabinet, then to Cherry.
“I am very sorry about the loss of Drake, I've already extended my condolences but I feel you would benefit from me repeating it,”he looked kindly at her.
“You were close to him?”
He had asked that as a question, but there was something about the look in his dark eyes that said he felt intuitively there had been so much more …
“I didn't know him well.”
“Well enough to feel deep sorrow at his loss,” Raine replied knowingly, “Sometimes another soul can touch our own and we can't forget. They leave their mark in the most beautiful of ways. This makes the loss all the harder to bear. If you ever need to talk, my contact details are in the office.”
His words had surprised her, but she was aware the time was moving on and that ritual had to be performed at midnight...
“Thanks, I appreciate it,”she said, “But it's getting late and I do have to clean and lock up the cafe area.”
“Of course.. well, it was nice to meet you,” he replied, then he walked on with a woman on each arm, looking sleek and sexy in his tight black jeans and black shirt and long jacket with lapels embroidered with moons and stars.
As they gathered at the entrance, the group waited for Cherry, who hurried up to unlock the entrance, then she thanked them all and wished them a happy Christmas and swiftly corrected that to Yule, then she let the group out, where they walked a short distance down to the front parking area where the snow had been cleared and a fleet of cars were waiting.
She closed up the door, skipped locking it and looked up at the clock. It was just gone half past eleven and she wasn't going to waste another moment. The cafe could wait, so could every other job that would need doing in here:
She had a ritual to perform...
Moments later Cherry had taken off her outer layer of clothing and now stood wearing nothing but the short white gown. As she lit the last of the candles the flames burned brightly, glowing in a shade that made the glass sides of the case reflect warmly. Through a narrow window she saw the heavy clouds parted by a strong wind as moon glow escaped through, full and round and bright. She had uncovered the chalk circle and lit the dandelion heads, the smell filled the room as smoke rose from the burner, the scent was strange, bitter and dark as it trailed, filling the room with its presence. She checked her watch. It was almost midnight...
Cherry hesitated as she stood by the case, she had placed three items in the circle drawn for the demon – the note from Drake, a comb she had found upstairs in the carrier bag and one of his ties, also taken from the wardrobe. She hoped those items would be enough – the translation had said three items but had not specified any certain kind.
She tensed as she looked down - the blade was in her hand and her other hand was turned over and open now, her nervous gaze shifted from her palm to the sharpened edge. Then she turned her head, looking to the corpse in the display case, thinking of what could be if magic was real and as she lowered the blade against her flesh it bit and stung and she pulled it back sharply, catching her breath as she saw a thin red line of broken skin, neatly cut but not too deep, blood was rising to the surface already.
Her hand was stinging as she made a fist and the blood began to drip. Each shining drop that covered the symbols etched inside the star felt like a step closer to her goal. Now her mind was made up – she would see this through, all the way, no matter what happened next...
Outside the museum, while the camera caught Raine Zinck on tape, the security guard who had dozed off at his desk in his booth at the back of the building, had not spotted him. Raine tried the door and found it to be open, then he hurried back inside, feeling annoyed he had left the others to go back to his place to party when he had to come back here, because he had left his phone in the function room. He closed the door softly and then looked about the place. The museum was silent, he wondered if Cherry had locked up the back room, then guessed she would either be cleaning the cafe after the buffet, or maybe, at this late hour, she was in the office – Drake had always been in the habit of going there late after a function, usually to tidy the office and check the phone before locking up for the night. The office was closer than the cafe and the function room, so he decided to go there first and turned towards the corridor and headed off to see if Cherry was in the office.
In the darkened room lit by candles, the light flickered making shadows dance up the walls as Cherry wrapped a bandage around her hand then stepped into the salt circle. She picked up the ancient book, opening it at the page where the modern notes were held inside, translating the text. Gripping the book felt powerful and she just hoped the translation would work, because she had no clue how to read the age old scrawl in old English that barely looked English at all.
The chiming of the clock in the outer hall was melodic yet resonant, echoing down through the archway and into the darkness to signal the coming of the hour. Her wounded hand was still stinging as she took a breath, turned her back to the case and Drake's body for fear of losing her way with the spell casting if something appeared, if fear overtook her... Then Cherry began to read the words softly as moonlight illuminated her standing there in the circle, her voice hushed because her throat was tight, apprehension denying her words strength:
“I call upon Ezaroth, dweller of the dark place, lord of soul collection. Rise up from Lucifer's side and rise from the fires of hell, raise to the calling of one who seeks life to be restored. Dark angel Ezaroth, rise with deaths wings, rise and restore the lifeless one. Rose and restore, rise, rise and restore life, oh life giver by the law of soul exchange, by the power granted by Lucifer, rise up and restore life...”
As she repeated the final chant her eyes were on the text, her back still turned and she did not see the glowing orbs that zipped about the room behind her, nor as her lips moved did she see the shadowy figure stretch out from the wall, a slender female form with a long flowing gown and folded wings, hair streaming behind it as it extended an arm, turned over a hand with long fingers and even longer, razor-sharp nails. Light began to glow from its palm. More orbs came from the creature as the smell of sulphur filled the air. Inside the glass case, the lights were converging, zipping about the body and forming a solid ball of fiery light that plunged into the chest of dead man.
“Rise and restore...” she whispered, then as Cherry realised the smell was all about her as the room grew warmer, she froze, fear making her heart hammer against her chest as she gripped the book tighter.
There was little else to read, there was a note about dismissal of the demon and closing the circle and all she could do was take it literally as the translation was absent, the notes had only ever been intended for display purposes...
“I send you back to Lucifer,” she said as her voice trembled.
The sulphur was still in the air, heavy and acrid as her grip on the book remained tight but her hands still shook. She was too afraid to turn around, something had happened, something had been in the room with her, behind her back, that smell had rose out of nowhere...
But the silence that was all around her brought with it the realisation that the ritual must have failed. Tears glazed her eyes and suddenly she was aware of how much her hand was hurting as blood seeped through the bandage.
“You are dismissed. The circle is closed,”she said quietly, hoping those words would be enough as she noticed the smell was lifting from the air along with the unusual sudden warmth that was now fading out.
A trace of sulphur lingered, but still she
stood there with her back turned away from the case – to look now, to see him in there, cold and dead and staring at the wall – it would be too much at this moment. Cherry closed the book heavily, blinking away tears as she remained in the circle, waiting for the stink of sulphur to go away, to be sure what ever had slipped into the room was really gone – if anything had been there at all, maybe she had imagined it out of stupid desperation, this was a moment when her heart felt broken even more deeply than before – witchcraft had been a last resort. Why the hell had she assumed it would work? Of course it wouldn't work, there was no such thing as black magic, not in reality...
Her back was still turned as she looked down at the ancient cover of the closed book she held in her hands. She gave a sob and blinked as tears ran down her face, still not looking around, not wanting to see confirmation that Drake was dead and would remain so forever more.
But while she stood there weeping, in the case, the body was no longer posed seated upright, looking to the wall. Drake was slumped against the chair, his head back, his eyes closed and then his fingers twitched, gripping at the arm rests of the chair as his lips parted and he took a breath and exhaled, misting up the door of the display case in a small circular patch of haze.
Then he woke with a jolt, his slender body tensing as he gasped. He sat forward sharply, opened his eyes and wondered why the hell he was in a display case. His eyes widened in fright and he looked about the sealed box, took in another frightened breath and then he looked through the glass: Beyond it candles flickered and a woman, a shapely woman in a short, sheer gown stood with her back to him, her head bowed as she looked downward. He thought about his final wish to be placed on display after his death, then as his head ached he brought his hands to his temples, rubbing at the flickering pain as confusion fogged his mind and he wondered how the hell he had come to be locked in the case. He wondered if it had been a sick joke. If it was, who ever had pulled this prank would be in a world of shit when he got out of the case... Then he jumped up from the seat gasping for air as panic took over and he remembered he was claustrophobic.
As he placed his hands on the glass door, his breath making more mist against the inside of the case, Cherry remained oblivious to the tall, slender man in the elegant suit on the verge of panic inside the glass display as she stood with her back to him, looking down tearfully at the book. Then he thumped on the glass several times and she turned around, her wide eyes meeting his own alarmed expression as the spell book tumbled from her hands and hit the floor with a thud. He was pressing his hands against the glass and mouthing the word help.
She stood there in shock, staring at a sight she could not believe:
It had worked, it had actually bloody worked!
Drake Ambrose was alive...
Chapter 6
Cherry signalled to him to wait. Drake stared back at her in disbelief as his eyes stayed wide with panic and he hit the inside of the case again with his open hands, wishing he could force the door open as she stepped out of the circle and hurriedly extinguished the flames on each of the black candles. As tiny trails of smoke escaped from the darkened wicks and added to air filled with burnt dandelions and a trace of sulphur, she went over to the glass case, her hands still shaking as she hurriedly pressed both catches and the door sprang open. Drake pressed a hand against the half open door, pausing to lean on it and breathe in fresh air.
“Oh god that was terrible!” he exclaimed as he broke into a sweat, “I know I said I wanted to be displayed... one day, but when I'm dead, not now! How did I even get in there?” he paused to sniff at the air, “And what's that stink?”
She opened her mouth to reply but then heard footsteps coming from the entrance hall.
“I didn't lock the door!”
“What?” he said in confusion.
She gave him a shove and in his weakened state he fell back on to the chair looking bewildered at she pushed him upright, placed his hands on the arm rests and then positioned his legs.
“What are you doing?” he demanded.
“Not now!” she said urgently, “Just trust me – pretend to be ...a waxwork. I have a good reason for this. Let me explain later, okay?”
“A waxwork?”
She leaned closer, surprising him with a kiss to his cheek, and that cheek was now warm and soft confirming he was definitely, completely alive – there was nothing about this man to suggest that he had ever been less than alive...
“Just stay there and don't move!”
She closed the door of the case. It shut with a click and his eyes widened in panic once more.
“I'm claustrophobic!”
She turned back, put a finger to her lips and shot him a warning glance, then turned away as he froze in position, looking almost completely still save for the trickle of sweat that ran down his face, then she walked over to greet Raine, who she had not been expecting to see again tonight.
As Raine approached the archway that led to the darkened room, he couldn't help but notice Cherry was barely dressed – and it was rather a nice sight, too... Then he smelled the sulphur in the air and glanced into the darkness, saw a smudged salt circle and what looked like demonic chalk marks on the floor. Cherry's face was pale but she smiled as she greeted him, standing there in the archway, blocking his way, preventing him from entering the room beyond.
“What are you doing back here?” she asked.
“I left my phone in the function room.”
“Sorry, you'll have to come back tomorrow. I've locked up and I'm about to go to bed.”
She had spoken hurriedly, she was trembling and he couldn't fail to notice she had bandaged a bleeding left hand...
“I smell sulphur.”
“It's incense.”
“Why would you burn it at this late hour?”
He eyed her with suspicion.
She forced a smile.
“One of my habits...I love the smell of...” she hesitated, wondering what scent she could name that would cover the stench coming from the next room.
“Dandelions?” he said with suspicion, then he stepped closer to the archway, she darted in front of him but he was there first, hitting the light switch that activated the spotlights.
A sense of dread swept over him as he saw the chalk circle and the black candles and the bloodstained dagger. He looked to the case, but the corpse was still seated and looking to the wall.
“Oh no...” he said, shaking his head as he stepped back recalling the vision, “Please don't tell me you're dabbling with black magic... for what? To bring him back? He's dead, Cherry! I know you loved him, I sensed that – but he's gone. There are certain forces a person should never mess with and demons cover pretty much all of them!”
Cherry walked over to join him as she glanced at the case, guessing as long as Raine didn't get too close he wouldn't notice the previously dead man was looking flushed and breaking out in a sweat in the confined space.
Raine felt a shiver crawl cold over his flesh as he stepped closer to the circle and saw the markings to call up the demon Ezaroth.
“You do realise a soul trading demon is dangerous?”
As he asked that question she shook her head.
“Oh Cherry, what have you done?” he looked about the room, saw the book on the floor, then turned back to her.
“I don't want to be around this stuff and I'm an experienced witch! What the hell were you thinking to try and summon a demon?”
Then as the man in the case lost his posture and self control and desperately leant against the door as sweat poured off his face, soaking his hair and making his shirt damp as he looked pleadingly through the glass, Raine's jaw dropped as he stared in disbelief.
“He's ….alive?”
“No point trying to cover it up now,”she replied, hurrying over to the case and opening it as Drake stumbled out leaning heavily against her, gasping for air and thankful to be out of the enclosed environment.
As he stared at the man who had b
een dead just a few hours before, Raine's face paled.
“I said at the time, why me? I had a vision about death and a rising demon. I don't know what to do...Why did you have to do something so dangerous, Cherry?”
As he stood there feeling weak and slightly hazy as the worst headache he had ever suffered started to ease to a bearable throb, Drake leant against Cherry and blinked, clearing blurring vision as he looked at Raine.
“What are you talking about?”
“Cherry raised a demon. A soul trader!”
As he said those words he shot her an angry glare and she looked back at him in confusion.
“I brought him back! Look at him, Drake's fine!”
“You brought me back from where?” Drake asked, still feeling confused and weak.
But neither Cherry nor Raine answered his question as Raine looked angrily at her.
“Ezaroth is a soul trader! That means Drake has four days. He has until Christmas Eve on the stroke of midnight to deliver a soul in exchange for the one the demon handed back to him! Otherwise...” he looked to Drake, “When midnight comes around you won't be seeing Christmas morning, you'll drop dead where ever you stand and guess what? This time there won't be peace, this time Ezaroth will take you to hell. It's your call, Drake. Kill someone in payment, as a thank you for your soul back - or die in four days. I strongly suggest you find the person who killed you and deliver them to the demon. I also suggest you keep me out of this mess!”
“I died?” Drake said, feeling dizzy and weaker still as he thought about his own demise, “But I would remember – last thing I recall is having tea in the office...I'm alive!”
“You died,” Raine replied, “You died suddenly and all I know for sure is before it happened I had a vision of murder, I saw poison placed into some liquid...I also saw the demon. It was a warning, but I didn't know who to warn.”
