Stir Until Petrified

by Theda Vallee

  Wrapped in a bath towel I wandered back into my cell. The smell of food hit me as soon as I entered. A tray with a steaming plate of food was sitting on the bed. Next to it was a pile of clothing. I examined the items that the Osservatori had seen fit to give me. My guess was there wasn’t a standard prison uniform. The hodgepodge of items they’d left for me looked like someone had raided the employee lockers and took whatever they could find. There was a pair of black yoga pants, a white t-shirt with a cup of coffee on it that said, “Espresso Yourself at Dina’s”, a pair of socks, and a hoodie that looked like it was found on a playground. It smelled like it’d sat in lost and found for three years. No shoes. No bra. No underwear. I’d complain, but the alternative was worse.

  As I dressed I realized how thankful I was that yoga pants stretched. These were a little small for me, but the elasticity of the material did its job to accommodate my ample ass. The shirt on the other hand was not so forgiving. It stretched across my breasts tightly pressing them into a uni-boob. I guess that was good, since I had no bra to support them. Thankfully the hoodie fit well covering my chest. I could live with the smell of if it as long I didn't have to meet the Osservatori council with my nipples showing through the white fabric of the t-shirt.

  I turned greedily to the food, ready to devour whatever was on the plate. Most people in these circumstances would’ve probably been too distraught to eat. Not me. Between the missed meals and energy I’d exerted with my magical meltdown, my body felt depleted. The scrambled eggs, bacon and toast hit the spot. I shoveled them into my mouth as fast as I could make the fork move.

  I finished my food in record time. There was nothing else for me to do but to sit and wait. Trying to keep myself from thinking depressing thoughts while sitting in a jail cell was not going to be an easy task. I was worried about my family. I missed home. I wanted to be in my kitchen baking. Nerina would be singing off key, dancing with the broom as she blathered on about some new guy she was texting with. Nonna would lecture her about giving her heart away to every jerk she encountered, but she’d smile at her indulgently anyway. We never really wanted Nerina to be any different. Nonna would squeeze my arm as I kneaded a large lump of dough. The look on her face would tell me that she loved me. That she hoped for better for me. That she missed Carina too. I‘d feel her strength infuse my body as if she’d imparted it with the skin to skin contact. I’d know I could get through another day.

  But I was stuck in a cell, terrified and alone. I’d never had to face anything by myself. Ever. Even as the losses in our life had piled up, I’d always been able to count on my family to stand with me. Soon I’d have to face the Osservatori council. How? My family gave me strength. I could talk a good game, but the reality was I didn't have the strength to be my own person without them.

  I wanted to scream and punch things. The walls looked to be made of solid concrete. Punching them would probably only hurt like hell. Instead, I did the next best thing. I picked up the tray my food had come on and hurled it across the tiny cell. It slammed into the far wall filling the room with a thundering crash. The sound of my own little symphony of anger and hate. Exactly what I needed right now. I decided to join the clanking utensils and let out a long deafening scream. I hoped they could hear me down the hall. Regardless of how absurd it was, I felt a little bit better.

  Chapter

  8

  A neon-tinged explosion flooded my cell jolting me out of sleep. I’d screamed myself to exhaustion with my impromptu temper tantrum earlier and had passed out from the exertion. My eyes burned as the blaze of a thousand suns tried to scorch my corneas. I’d been in this cell for less than two days and I’d already turned into a mole person. A scraping sound echoed through the room as my cell door opened. Two men walked in without so much as an introduction. Their faces were blank as they marched across the room to stop in front of the bed. They wore dark gray uniforms that must have been designed a decade ago and never revamped. All I could see was a cluster of shoulder pads and buckles.

  “Hey, guys. Michael Jackson called, and he wants his outfit back.”

  “Stand!” one of the men barked. Unsurprisingly, their dour faces didn’t hide a cheeky sense of humor. They both towered over me menacingly as I stayed seated on the bed.

  “Why? Are we going to The Rhythm Nation?”

  They were not willing to engage in banter. The guard closest to me, grabbed my arm yanking me into a standing position. The other guard pulled my wrists forward slapping a pair of cuffs on me. I’m not sure what they thought that was going to prevent. I wasn’t a physical threat to anyone.

  “I’ll lead the prisoner. You two can follow.” Luc said as he entered the room. It was a sick bit of irony that I was grateful to see him. He grabbed my arm, gently leading me out the door and down a dank looking hallway.

  “If things go bad do you think they’re going to use me for genetic testing or an Osservatori breeding program?” There were wild rumors that the Osservatori no longer recruited agents but instead bred them from powerful magical beings. It seemed feasible to me.

  “You’ve got a lot of weird ideas in that head of yours,” he said without looking at me.

  “If you were good at your job you’d know what people say about the Osservatori,” I countered. Wouldn't an all-powerful organization be smart enough to have a public relations team?

  “I know what the myths are. I just didn't think you were someone who’d put any stock in them,” he replied.

  “I don’t know what to believe. Maybe if you guys didn't keep everything so secret people wouldn't have to make up crazy rumors.”

  “We’ve kept people safe from themselves and each other for centuries. That’s all anyone needs to know. That alone should make people grateful.”

  “You're sounding a little brainwashed. Am I going to get brainwashed too?” I said, trying to push his buttons.

  He stopped dead in his tracks and turned me to face him. “I hope you’ve gotten it all out of your system. You're going to meet some people who won't find your outstanding wit nearly as amusing as I do.”

  “You think I’m witty?” I batted my eyelashes at him to play coy. His face didn't move from its grim lines. “Fine, I think ninety-five percent of it is out. There’s still a five percent chance I may say something stupid.” It was probably a higher percentage than that. Knowing me, a lot higher.

  He let out a sigh before turning to continue our march down the hall. Dragging my feet, I trudged along beside him trying to steel myself for whatever fate had in store for me. The hallway ended with a set of elevator doors. He pushed the button and led me in. The steel box lurched into motion slowly moving up the floors. It seemed to take forever. We must’ve been deep underground. Great. I was in a building with an actual dungeon.

  The elevator finally shuttered to a stop and the doors slid open. We entered what looked like the lobby. A sterile white ocean of tile stretched out before me. The floor echoed loudly with each step of the two men escorting us. My socks slid on the floor effortlessly in silent contrast. People moved around us in a practiced hurry staring unabashedly as we walked through. The never-ending height of the room added to the overall austere feeling of the place. One giant chandelier floated down hanging in the middle of the room like a robot eye watching all the comings and goings. I wouldn't be surprised if that’s what it was.

  Every direction I turned, sterile white vied for space with industrial metal. The floor stretched endlessly with the same glossy white tiles that had bedecked the lobby. You could see your reflection bounding back at you as you walked. The walls were painted white and the same white tile from the floor was used as trim, like a wainscoting along the walls. Offices lined the hall that we moved down. The walls were glass framed in steel. All the inhabitants in the fishbowl offices glanced up peering curiously at us as we made our way deeper into the Osservatori maze. It seemed as if they all wanted to get a look at the prisoner on her way to certain doom.

  We stopped in fro
nt of yet another glass room. Monitors were mounted on three of the four walls. Luc led me in gesturing for me to have a seat in one of the metal and white leather chairs surrounding a giant industrial glass and metal conference table. They hadn’t been going for a welcoming aesthetic when they designed this space. Everything seemed to have been carefully selected to intimidate.

  “Do you want some water? We’re going to be here for a little bit,” Luc asked, sitting next to me.

  “No, I’m fine. Can you let whoever is coming know we need to get this party started? I really just want to go home so I can get on with my life.”

  We sat in silence. I had nothing witty left to say. The building had done its job of intimidating me. I’d expected an ancient building complete with battlements or stone walls. Instead, the clearly modern facility was more frightening in a lot of ways. It meant that they weren’t opposed to using modern technology with their magic. Arcane magic meets science. That was terrifying.

  Sitting in silence I had time to worry about who this mythical council would be made of. My mind conjured up terrifying images of disfigured creatures who oozed magic out of their pours along with a foul stench. Less human and more The Blob. Luc and the squad of people he’d brought to my house had been disturbingly attractive, but that didn't mean that the monstrosities that ran the organization fit that aesthetic. For some reason power and evil equated to hideous in my head.

  Just as my nerves were reaching their crescendo of panic, a voice that sounded like nails on a chalkboard screeched behind me.

  “So sorry to keep you waiting, darling. You know how it is. There’s always a fire to be put out.” She turned to me flashing the fakest smile I’d ever seen. “Violetta, so good to see you again.”

  “Lemonlime, so nice to see you again. I didn't realize you were on the council.” I lifted my shackled hands and shrugged so she could see I wasn’t going to be able to take her extended hand. Behind me, I heard Luc make an odd choking sound. Whether he was trying to stifle a laugh or trying to get me to shut up I didn't know, nor did I care. She was the second person down on my shit list in this whole fiasco. Just under her boss.

  “It’s Leontyne.” Her face had gone into a permanent I smell something foul configuration. That sneer made her unattractive for a moment. That pleased me just a smidgen.

  “Sorry. I’m bad with names. So, you’re on the council?”

  “Oh, my no. I’m simply a humble servant. I’d be honored to end my career in such a revered position. No, I’m here as a witness. I did see your little display.” Under her fake humility was a very real hunger. She wanted a council seat. Badly. I wondered what she was willing to do to get one.

  “My little display? I assume you don’t claim any culpability in what happened?” I stared at her in disbelief. These people had a pathological inability when it came to accepting responsibility for their actions.

  “Like what, dear? Like when we wrestled your poor sweet grandmother to the ground? She was obstructing justice and had to be dealt with. She was only scuffed up a bit,” Leontyne snapped.

  “You know what my favorite part of yesterday was?” I asked Leontyne. She stared at me blankly waiting for my reply. “The fact you weren't able to handle any of that on your own. I hope it’s stamped as a big red failure in your file.”

  Leontyne cocked her head to the side. The sneer that passed for her smile stretched to maximum capacity. I was terrified it might shatter her face at any second. She looked like a malfunctioning robot. Her eyes batted, as her tongue snaked out wetting her lip a little. Finally, she leaned forward to look past me clearly choosing to ignore what I’d just said. “Luc, when you get a chance I have a few more possible leads for you. I was thinking we could review everything over dinner later tonight. You’ve been a little out of the loop for the last few days, we can get you all caught up. Besides, after what you’ve gone through this weekend, I thought you’d need a friend and some wine.”

  What he went through? Aside from the little mishap with my magic everything had been business as usual for him.

  “I’m sorry. Not to be rude, but what exactly has Luc “gone” through this weekend?” I’m not ashamed to admit that I used air quotes as best I could with my shackled hands. Sometimes when you’re dealing with a basic bitch like Leontyne, you have to get down to their level.

  “Oh, Violetta dear, I think we both know you’ve been a wee bit naughty. Letting your magic out in such an unattractive way. You little strega are so over emotional it can be taxing on those of us that aren't used to such dramatics.” she cooed at me using a sickening singsong voice.

  “What exactly are you? I mean obviously you’re a soulless she-beast from the depths of hell. I just don’t know the scientific term for whatever the fuck that is.”

  She sat for a moment staring past me out the glass window. If this had been a cartoon I’m certain steam would have poured out from her ears. I wasn't in a position to be goading this woman, but something about her rubbed like a cheese grater on my soul. When she finally turned her eyes back to me I could see the fury rolling around her iris’. It was probably a bad move pissing her off on her home turf. A creepy calm forced itself over her face. She reached her hand out placing it lightly on my forearm.

  “We don’t have to be friends if that’s your preference, but I’m going to strongly recommend you get to know me a little better before you make that judgment call.”

  Her face was perfectly serene. There was no way Luc could know that she was digging her dagger-like fingernails into the fleshy meat on the underside of my forearm. A shiver of pain crept up my arm as she increased the pressure.

  I was at a loss for what to do. She was daring me with her eyes to make a sound. I had no idea what that silent threat could mean but she was making it clear that she was not above playing rough. For the first time in my life, I wished I was a violent person. Most of the time when I said I wanted to punch someone, I didn't mean it. It was a just something I said. This time, the thought of hurting her made me feel good. In my mind I could see my hand clenching into a fist. I would cock back my arm and slam forward putting every ounce of my body weight into the hit. I had a good fifty pounds on her so that punch would pack a lot. Her waif thin frame wouldn’t know what to do with my onslaught. God that would feel so gratifying.

  “Oh, my godt my noshe!” Leontyne screamed out in terror as blood began to pour out of her nose. She released my arm to grab at her face trying to stem the tide of blood. I spied a box of Kleenex sitting on the end of the table. Reaching for it I handed her a wad of tissue. Luc was out of his chair in flash, hovering over her, he examined her face.

  “What the hell just happened, Len?” Luc looked perplexed. Leontyne continued to howl like a cat dunked in water.

  “She pchunched meh in da faceh wif her majik.” She sounded like a boxer after a few too many rounds.

  “How is that even possible? She’s been fed inhibitor since she got here,” Luc asked incredulously. He looked at me as if I’d have an answer.

  “I’m sorry.” I sat there transfixed in horror as bright streaks of red dripped from in between her fingers. I should feel bad. My magic had once again been out of my control. However, glancing down at the half crescent moons embedded in my arm I wasn’t as contrite as I wanted to be.

  “Etta, you need to learn to start controlling your temper. Your accidents can cost people their lives. This was the last thing you needed to happen before you went before the council. Those people who are going to decide your future. This doesn’t help!” Luc bellowed at me. He could go sit on an anthill for all I cared. I didn't do it on purpose.

  “Mrs. Kane, going forward I’d appreciate it if you didn't use magic against anyone in this building. It makes for a hostile work environment.” Said a handsome older gentleman as he entered the room.

  If I had to guess, I would venture he was in his early fifties. His dark black hair showed no signs of greying. Honey colored eyes peered at me with intense scrutiny. H
e’d kept his body in good shape over the years. His tall frame was all muscle and sinew. Whatever his secret was he’d avoided the middle age spread so many men his age carried around. There was something so familiar about him. Something that made my lady bits stand at attention.

  “Len, dear, why don't you go clean up? I know you were anxious to provide testimony, but we have enough information without your account.” He looked at Leontyne with utter disregard. Blood had soaked through the front of her blouse making her look like she was auditioning for a local production of Carrie. Leontyne gathered herself up to her full height flouncing out of the room with as much dramatic flair as possible, leaving a trail of blood in her wake. “She was able to wield magic outside the inhibitor and with iron shackles on,” Luc said mopping up blood with the tissue.

  “You are full of surprises aren't you, Mrs. Kane?”

  “Ms. Massoni. You can call me Etta or Ms. Massoni. I stopped being Mrs. Kane a long time ago.”

  “As you wish, Etta. I’m Pietro DeFiero. I’m one of the council of seven. I believe you already know my son, Luc. He’s one of the best Osservatori I have in the field. The other six council members will be here shortly. It’s always such a chore to get everyone to show up on time.”

  He was Luc’s father? That’s why he looked so familiar. Ew. Gross. I’d just thought he was hot! What the hell was wrong with me? If I got out of this alive, I was going to sleep with the first guy I could find. I needed to get laid. That would hopefully get me to stop lusting after the enemy.

  “So how do you get to be on the council? Is it a promotion or a fight to the death?” I asked Pietro. I should be terrified of this man. Instead, I was just bitter, tired, and hungry again. These people didn't feel regular meals were important. The more I could learn about the Osservatori the better for me, if I ever get out of this mess.