Dahlia - The Velvet Witch and Her Dark Spirit

PART 8 - ETHEREALITY

By six a.m, I'm alone. I lay on my side and write some gibberish about soaring eagles and blood in my notepad. I sketch the monsters from the roof of The Velvet Eye, as well as Dahlia's heroic leap from the swing. And even though my thoughts are jangly, they make me smile.

The clock reads one p.m. I think I've slept though I could be wrong. My legs are starting to work again, but only as well as a newborn deer. A sweaty musk is rising off me, so I divert from the percolator to the shower. The hallucinations have stopped, but my vision kaleidoscopes as I swing around. Stationary objects are shimmering, colours are morphing, and the lights on the ceiling are shooting out dull rainbows.

The shower is exotically warm and quickly paralyses me. After an hour, I get out feeling the cleanest I've ever been. My skin smells new and feels softer than the inner thigh of a woman. I change the bedsheets as it seems the right thing to do in light of the cleanse. The fresh ones are silky and smell alluring, so I oblige, slide into them, and drift off.

I wake at seven to a message from Dahlia.

"Levi, I'm free. May I come and rest?"

"Of course."

A giddy feeling overcomes me as I realise she'll be here with nowhere else to be. It almost seems impossible, as if I can't be that lucky.

I force my eyes shut and breathe slowly until my mind fades out. A bang judders the room. I spring up from my Zen out, dazed and disorientated, and not even sure where I am until I hit the bedside lamp.

The bang comes again. It's the door. The last time it was rapped that hard a hellish monster was making its escape. I jump up and pad over. It must be Dahlia. I smile but quickly hide it so I don't give away my obvious excitement.

I swing the door open to reveal emptiness. I close it, thinking my senses are probably still doing cartwheels after the psychoactive drugs, but the second it clicks shut, it bangs again. Three sharp knocks in close succession. My heart is racing for a different reason now. I swallow and take a step towards the door. I imagine it bursting off its hinges and knocking me to the ground, then being set upon by a ferocious giant that storms in and slaughters me for getting mixed up with the wrong earthling.

I peer through the peephole, but there's nothing there except for an empty passageway. I summon as much bravado as I can muster and burst through the door. My eyes must be closed because all I see is blood rinsing through my lids. When I don't run into man nor beast, I breathe and consider myself safe. I stop and spin on the spot before being startled by the shape of a body to my side.

"Fuck you," I yell when I see who it is.

Ruben is plastered against the wall. He's giggling so hard he could be having a fit.

"Lucky I wasn't standing in the doorway," he says, wiping tears from his eyes. "You would've flattened me."

"You should have called. I'm expecting—" I say but cut myself off as I realise how far behind he is in the Dahlia story. The last he knew, she was nothing but a crush.

"I called eight bloody times. Do you even have a phone anymore?" he asks, holding out a limp hand for me to shake.

"Oh, sorry. I've been busy."

"Yeah, doing what?"

"Me," comes a seductive purr from behind us.

It's Ruben's turn to trail off as he sees Dahlia gliding up the passage.

She's dressed painfully sexy in a black business suit and a tight white top. I beg the Gods for forgiveness—sins will be committed tonight—if I can get my thing to work, that is.