Powered by fate, the torture wheel cycled endlessly. Kelly’s lay stretched out like a starfish, his limbs bound to the wood with thick rope. Wet bubbles popped from the flat lips of January as he flung another knife into Kelley’s pin-cushion body. It had sunk halfway through, and like all the others had yet to produce a single drop of blood. January wanted it more than anything. The first sip had been intoxicating. His stomach gurgled, digesting its own noxious acid over and over again. Where was the blood? He threw another knife, piercing Kelley’s thigh.
I am Kelley Lestes, he said to himself. I am Kelley Lestes. I bleed. I bleed.
The two were nearly alone in the stone chamber. Wires of gold fairy lights hung lazily from the ceiling, filling the room with a powdered glow. In the corner of the room a blonde girl sat on a simple wooden chair. Wearing a summer dress printed with angelonia, she rested her head in her hand, watching Kelley passively with eyes like TV static.
The next knife punctured Kelley’s abdomen. Was that a wince? An eye flutter? Where was the blood? Where was the pain? He repeated his mantra.
I am Kelley Lestes. I am Kelley Lestes. I bleed. I bleed.
But Kelley’s mind was somewhere else. He had no intention of bleeding. While he didn’t have the strength to control the demon, he had more than enough over himself. There wasn’t much he could do. Altogether, he couldn’t say he was upset with the situation. It was enough just to piss January off. One of life’s simple pleasures. And then, eventually, he would wake up. Work on a new strategy. But until then he would deny January the satisfaction of his blood. He felt a tingle as a blade ruptured his kidneys.
Is that all? He thought again. Am I my kidneys? Am I my heart? My brain? My liver?
The next knife splattered his right eye, the next his left, and then suddenly the room appeared underwater. Fuck.
Putputput, bubbled January’s wet mouth.
Just one ruby red droplet. Just one. On the tip of my tongue. Just a taste. Just a tease. I’ll take you wherever you want to go.
Not a chance.
Behind them, the chamber door burst open. January turned in horror as a silver skinned man covered in black tattoos stormed the threshold. He looked contemptuously at the jaundiced glow of the creature’s mask. He tore it off, then reached his fingers into the fish’s flesh and began to tear it piece by piece, devouring all that he tore asunder. Iodinic vapour filled the room. January was little more than bones by the time the mask of Kelly’s skin hit the cold chamber floor, coiling like discarded snake skin.
Strands of auburn hair fell over his face like cell bars. He turned his attention to Kelley. Under his gaze, the torture wheel crawled to a stop.
Hair tickling the cobblestone floor, Kelley stared at the upside-down face of his benefactor. Porcelain complexion, bright white irises, regal bearing. Even with a face smeared with fish guts. Across his upper body, black tattoos jumped and darted like spring-loaded snakes.
He looked around the room, to everywhere but the corner where the blonde woman sat.
“Why have I been brought here?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” said Kelley. “I didn’t bring you to shit.”
The man glanced at the silver stain on Kelley’s wrist.
“You have my mark.”
“Oh. Sorry. But I don’t really know who you are. You want it back?”
He knelt down and plucked the knife from Kelley’s left eye.
“Not necessarily”
“Who are you?”
“One who at death saw the red light,” said the man. “Son of earth and starry heaven. I am the unchanging story.”
“Sure. But which one?”
The man ignored him.
“Tell me. There’s a woman in the corner of this room. Who is she?”
“Why should I tell you, white demon?”
The man winced.
“No, I don’t like that. If you need to address me, call me ‘Philip’”.
“You don’t look like a Philip.”
“I do not care what you think,” he said simply.
“But you want something from me, don’t you Philip?”
“Tell me her name. Or I will vomit up the demon that had you tied to this wheel. And it will be like I was never here.”
Before he realized what he was doing, he had muttered Helen’s name out the side of his mouth.
“Helen,” Philip repeated softly. “It’s a name with history, you know?”
“Yeah, I know.”
“I want to see her.”
“She’s right there, go take a look.”
“Not with my own eyes. I,” his noble demeanor began to waver, snake tattoos twitching across his body like pinched nerves. “It’s…painful.”
“But she’s right behind you. Come on, Phil. Just turn around. Don’t be so lazy.”
The man began to shake.
“Make her leave!” he bellowed. The stone walls began to crack.
Kelley feigned a smile, then focused his attention on the girl sitting on the chair. As he did so, she tipped backwards, collapsing into a stream of smoke. Angelonia petals filled the air. The man closed his eyes and breathed deeply.
“Thank you.”
“What do you want?”
“I felt something when I was brought into this room. Something I haven’t felt since I was alive. Her. I could never mistake her presence. She’s returned to the living. It’s necessary that I see her.”
“Her?’”
“Someone very important to me.”
Kelley cackled, plucking a knife out from his side.
“You think Helen is the reincarnation of your lost lover? No offense, aren’t you a little old to be chasing after high school girls?”
Philip angrily pressed his heel to Kelley’s chin and began to push.
“You mock love. But one day you’ll see there’s nothing else. Not in life, nor in death.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” Kelley mumbled through a smushed cheek.
“I wish to see her. I’ll grant you anything and everything in return. Everything in my power.”
“And how exactly would that work?”
“I cannot see her with my own eyes. But. But I can see her through yours.”
“Posession.”
“Call it whatever you like.”
“Just like January.”
Philip sneered.
“You mistake me, yet again. I am no demon. But I can bring one back if you wish. Perhaps I can make you never wake up again, and you and January you can live out the rest of your lives together, in the way that you would wish to deny me. What do you think?”
“Fuck off.”
“I am not being unreasonable. Let me help you.”
“Who says I need help?”
“I found you bound to a torture wheel. What is it you want? Why are you even here?”
“I’m bored.”
“You’re,” paused Philip. “Bored?”
“I’m sick of this ugly world, where everything is small and petty. I don’t belong here, and I never did. There has to be somewhere else out there. Somewhere that doesn’t feel like prison. I want to see what else there is. I want to walk the worlds of the dead. And then worlds beyond that. I want to know what it’s like to be you.”
“If you insist.”
“Are you listening to me?” said Kelley firmly. “ I want to possess you.”
“I understand you.”
“Okay. You can see her. But only see.”
“And talk.”
“See.”
Philip nodded. And then he fell to his knees.
“I used to live on hope alone,” he said softly. “But now I have something real. I won’t forget what you’ve done for me.”
He began to untie the ropes that bound Kelley’s limbs. With a thud, he fell to the floor.
“Don’t mention it,” Kelley said, massaging his wrists.
“Stop that,” said Philip. “You talk like a slave.”
He drew his arm towards the chamber door.
“I offer you my hospitality until our deal is settled. Wherever you wish to spend your nights, you will find it behind that door.”
Tentatively, Kelley stepped towards the bright red chamber door. The screaming obsidian figure of the woman who had given him the mark bolted to its center.
He opened the door, and stepped into pure chaos. He sat in the middle of the sky, an endless swarm of exploding galaxies and bursting supernovae above him, a starry, purple sea below him.
Philip looked disgusted.
“This is an abyss.”
Kelley closed his eyes.
“It’s the opposite. Endless possibilities. True freedom.”
“Your notion of freedom is meaningless. What you see is a world made of mirrors. Though you may press your fingers to the glass, you will never fall through. Stay here and you will become a spectator so consumed by inspiration that you forget to live, content as you are to be inspired.”
“God forbid I be content.”
Philip held his bearing looking out into the chaos, but he could not hide the quiver in his voice. “Spend eternity staring into the void, and all you will find is that you have become a part of it. I have heard it called ‘God’. It is nothing like God. It is a trap. When you are everything, you are nothing.”
“Relax,” said Kelley. He pointed to a star out in the distance. Bright and red and brutishly churning. “What’s that?”
“That,” Philip said “That is Babalon. She has returned.”
Kelley nodded. There was a silence between them. Kelley’s eyelids felt heavy. He had always wondered if you could fall asleep in a dream. Where would you go?
“Hey Philip. It’s not my dream if you’re still here.”
Philip turned and walked back to the chamber door, suspended as it was in open air.
“Goodnight Kelley Lestes. I’ll be seeing you.”