Let It Slip

Part VI

Part VI

Zelda took the arm that was offered to her and walked through the thick fog she'd landed in after Baron Samedi had pulled her through her grave and into the Underworld. Moving her fingers against the crushed velvet and feeling the thick dreadlock ropes brushing against her shoulder, Zelda closed her eyes and allowed the loa to lead her. Relishing in the absence of pain in her body, the redheaded witch's mind was gloriously blank, she was aware that her memories were missing but felt very little distress at the idea. Overall, she felt warm and calm.

"Is this the afterlife?" She murmured, her eyes fluttering open just as the Baron ushered her into an opulent salon. The prison cell Lilith had loaned the Baron had been charmed to be perceived as a luxuriously gilded chamber.

"Not quite, ma cherie." Gently dislodging the witch from his arm, the Baron swept his arm out in front of him, "Welcome to your palace, fit for a princess."

As subdued as Zelda felt, being called a princess irked her and she frowned. The room before her was dripping in thick velvet drapes, outlined with gold, and covered in marble. It was a room for Royalty. The witch stepped deeper into the room and as she did so, her drab clothing transformed into a rich black velvet gown encrusted in sparkling emeralds, her hair twisting up into a roll at the base of her neck with a shimmering circlet nestled firmly atop. Looking at her dress in surprise, Zelda cocked her head and met the Baron's gaze with confusion.

"I am not ready to let you go just yet, Zelda Spellman. I have some business to attend to but I hope you will enjoy your time here, in your palace." Removing his tophat as he bowed low to the witch, Baron Samedi disappeared, leaving a confused Zelda on her own.

Catching herself in the reflection of a floor length mirror, the witch turned to stand directly in front of it. Her mind muddied by the Baron's magic, she struggled to remember passed stepping down into his grave. Her gaze took in the circlet of jewels perched on her head and she reached up to remove it, placing it gently on a low table nearby. Pulling the pins out of her hair, she shook it out around her shoulders and looked again. Though the gown was gorgeous, something about her reflection in the mirror jogged Zelda's memory - this wasn't who she was. This wasn't how she would dress. This must be some sort of game the Baron was playing with her. Reaching back, Zelda undid the laces of the corseted top, feeling her ribs expand gratefully. Once undone, she was able to wiggle the bodice down, over her hips, in order to step out of the billowing skirts.

"Much better." Standing before the mirror in nothing by a shift dress, her hair wild around her face, Zelda felt more herself. Her understanding of self tapping at the door of her memory to be let in.

Leaving her cocoon of velvet and emeralds crumpled on the floor, Zelda moved to settle on a chaise lounge. Rubbing her temples, she willed herself to remember and felt the memories slowly seeping in. Hilda. Sabrina. MemoryTech. Death. When she'd called Baron Samedi, Zelda had been at her breaking point. She felt there was no other recourse; emotionally she could not imagine living another day feeling as miserable as she felt but even more than that, she could not bear the thought of her body failing her. Zelda would be the first person to admit her vanity and she would rather walk into a fire than have her cause of death be her body failing her.

Waving her hand, she assumed she would be able to conjure fire into the fireplace in front of her but nothing happened, "What in Hecate's name..." Zelda waved her hand again - nothing. The blood ran cold in her body as she began to realize the cost of making a deal with Baron Samedi.

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Thoughts of Zelda Spellman brought back the trauma of her son, Adam. To avoid feeling her own pain, Lilith had taken the place of Hell's executioner and was happily filling the void within her with sadism. The Queen of Hell usually delighted in watching souls suffer but typically didn't bother to get her hands dirty - this evening, wearing a leather catsuit and carrying a cattle prod, Lilith was thrilled to be doling out punishments.