14. Hell to the No
Chapter fourteen
Hell to the No
Emily
Maxwell and I stepped into Delphine’s kitchen, while she busied herself in the back corner.
The heavy scent of spices and herbs filled the air.
Pungent and earthy.
I went over to the worn oak table in the center, pulled out a chair, and sat down.
The wooden chair creaked beneath me.
Maxwell sat next to me.
I took in the space.
The kitchen was more than just a room. It was a realm of its own.
Rows of wooden cabinets stood against the walls, aged and scuffed with markings from years past.
Only God knew what Delphine would have in here.
Glass jars—meticulously arranged in neat rows—lined the expansive wooden shelves that stretched from the floor to the high ceilings.
Each jar was different in size, shape, and the curious contents it held.
Among the countless containers, many held an assortment of herbs—from the common to the obscure. Dried leaves of basil, rosemary, and thyme. Their muted green tones contrasted against the darker hues of jars full of various berries. Some of the herbs looked familiar, reminiscent of ones I had seen in baba’s kitchen.
Beyond the assortment of dried flora, however, were jars that sent a chilly unease down my spine.
Man, I don’t know. . .
Obscure, alien objects floated in clear liquids, their identities obscured by a thick fog of reluctance in my mind.
Is that some sort of. . .animal fetus?
I checked out the other jars.
A few jars had tangled roots of plants that were unrecognizable. Some contained tiny bones which may have come from birds or maybe small animals. There were other containers filled with peculiar stones and crystals.
In the far corner of the shelving unit, a collection of parchment scrolls bound with twine and wax seals leaned against the wooden frame. The scrolls were yellowed with age and frayed edges.
An ancient iron stove dominated one corner of the room. Blackened pans hung overhead.
The low hum of a simmering pot on the stove sounded. Within it, the occasional sizzle and pop of ingredients added an unsettling rhythm. From it wafted a rich, savory smell that mingled with the heavy scent of the room.
My stomach growled.
Oh hell no. Better shut your ass up, stomach. We are not eating anything here.
The taste of fear was heavy on my tongue, a bitter note that stood out starkly against the heady mixture of spices.
Delphine brought me over a glass of shimmering blue liquid. “You need to drink this. Enjoy.”
I gazed at it. “What’s this?”
She gave me a firm look. “New Yorkers don’t have the manners to accept things and say thank you, when they are visitors in someone’s house?”
I sucked my teeth. “Your berries had me about to hook up with my fiancé in the garden.”
“Do you want to heal or not?”
“That doesn’t mean you can’t tell me what’s in there.”
“You wouldn’t know what was in there, if I told you.” She set the glass on the table. “Now don’t make me have to pour it down your throat myself.”
I wish you would try that shit.
Delphine scowled as if she heard me.
I blinked.
Did she hear me?
Buzzing sounded next to me.
I turned to Max as he pulled out his phone, checked the screen, and then pressed the ignore button.
At least this time, I caught the name he had put for the contact.
Interesting.
I raised my eyebrows. “Why did you name the person, Hell to the No ?”
Delphine snickered and headed off.
Max put the phone into his pocket and gestured to the glass. “How about you focus on drinking that bullshit in your glass.”
Delphine moved towards the old iron stove. “Drink it, Emily, so we can begin. That takes time to hit your system.”
She picked up a wooden spoon and began stirring the simmering pot.
Suddenly, the room filled with a new wave of tantalizing scents, strong enough to cut through the pungent aroma of herbs.
I sniffed. “What’s that in the pot?”
“Sautéed onions, bell peppers, and celery—the holy trinity of Creole cooking.” She tossed something else into the pot. “Now you’ll catch the scent of garlic.”
A comforting warmth enveloped the kitchen as Delphine added chunks of smoked sausage to the sizzling medley.
My mouth began to water.
Then, she grabbed bowls of tomatoes, shrimp, and crab.
The scent was intoxicating yet exotic.
Maxwell kept his voice low. “Damn. . .that does smell tasty.”
Delphine chuckled. “I’m making this special pot of gumbo for you, grandnephew.”
Max shook his head. “Naw. I’m good.”
“Doesn’t mean you can’t eat.”
“I ate a lot on the plane ride.”
“Boy, you are going to try a nice bowl of my gumbo.”
“No, I’m not.”
Delphine glared at him. “Why not?”
Max stirred in his chair. “I’m not hungry.”
Delphine placed her hands on her hips and turned to me. “I bet that Baba Yaga you brought here said something about my gumbo.”
I quirked my brows. “Baba Yaga?”
She pointed to the glass. “Drink or you’ll be here all night. When the Lion returns with that Eye, you will want to be awake.”
“This is going to make me go to sleep?”
“Are you going to ask me questions through the whole process?”
“I sure am.”
“And I won’t be answering them.” She scowled. “You came here to heal. If you know better about this process, then you can go back to Moscow and do it yourself.”
I tensed.
“Drink.”
Jesus Christ.
I reached for the glass of blue liquid and picked it up. Minuscule bubbles floated on the top. The color of the liquid appeared more shimmery sapphire than a typical blue.
I sniffed and didn’t smell anything.
I checked Max.
He shrugged.
“Here we go.” I put the glass to my lips and began to drink. Raw bitterness hit my tongue. Then, there was this sweetness of berries abruptly eclipsed by an odd tang, something metallic, like. . .
Blood?
I stopped drinking and coughed.
Oh hell no.
Only half of the liquid was still in the glass.
I looked at her. “Did I just drink blood?”
Delphine stirred the pot. “Blood is a conduit of Ashe—life force. It bridges the physical and spiritual realms.”
I shrieked. “So, then that is a yes?”
She stopped stirring and glared at me. “I thought I already told you to quit with the questions.”
“I-I know, but. . .listen sometimes I’m going to ask—”
“Drink.”
I twisted my face in disgust and placed the glass to my lips, forcing myself to think about why I was in New Orleans in the first place.
Remember Kaz, Max, Paolo, and Emilio. I can’t have Lunita terrorizing them. It’s time to end this.
With that reminder, I drank the rest of the odd concoction.
When I finished, I set the empty glass on the table. “Can I at least ask what or who’s blood that was?”
“You don’t want to know.” Delphine set the spoon down and started whistling.
The taste of the odd potion lingered on my tongue.
This sense of euphoria began to wash over me as if I had inhaled a joint.
Hmmm.
I lifted my gaze to the ceiling.
The white surface was crafted from a solid sheet of hardwood, old yet impeccably maintained. There was no hint of dust or the tangled webs of long-forgotten spiders.
Pretty.
Then, suddenly, the tranquility shattered as the ceiling morphed into a horrifying theater of visions.
What is this?
Somehow the ceiling became an unfurling screen of nightmares.
Visions stormed across it in a rapid-fire succession. A man being slit open like a pig. Blood spilled down his neck. Next, a woman was shot point-blank in the back of her head. After that more terrifying images came. Over and over, cocks kept being hacked off and thrown to the ground.
A scream lodged in my throat.
I froze in pure horror, unable to speak or look away from the macabre reel of film on the ceiling.
No. No.
I went nauseous.
Oh God. Stop.
Then, the movie shifted to small hands strangling someone with a pillow.
Stop it!!
The fucked up movie ended and then disappeared.
Finally, the ceiling returned to peacefully white.
D-did I. . .imagine that. . .or?
My heart pounded in my chest as my hands clenched into fists.
“Em,” Max whispered.
I snapped my view to him.
“Are you okay?” His eyes were wide with fear. “You’ve been staring at that ceiling for a good ten minutes and sweating like you were walking through a desert.”
“T-ten minutes?” I blinked. “That wasn’t a few seconds?”
“Hell no.”
Out of nowhere, Delphine appeared on my right and set down a glass of red liquid. “Go ahead and drink that.”
I still had my hands fisted, but now they shook. “I s-saw stuff.”
“I bet you did. Now drink.”
My mind whirled.
The room spun a little.
Sweat trickled down the back of my neck.
I clenched my hands into tighter fists, forcing my nails to bite into my palms.
Hold on. Just hold on.
I squeezed my eyes shut, willing the room to stop its dizzying spin. Then, I focused on my breathing, drawing in deep, shuddering breaths.
Once I opened my eyes, I looked down at my hand and suddenly realized that I was holding the glass. “Who put this in my hand?”
Still standing in front of me, Delphine stared with a neutral expression. “You picked it up.”
“When?”
Maxwell studied me across the table. His eyes held concern. “Em, are you okay?”
“Max, y-you saw me pick that glass up?”
He nodded. “About five minutes ago. You’ve been holding it the whole time.”
“F-five minutes.” I blinked. “I’m. . .losing time.”
Delphine watched me. “Something like that.”
“W-what do you mean?”
Delphine gave me a sad smile. “She keeps on taking over your body and peeking out to see what I am doing to you.”
Max stirred. “Lunita.”
Delphine bobbed her head. “But, Lunita knows she don’t want to meet me just yet.”
I widened my eyes and looked at the glass of red liquid. “This is going to help me get rid of her?”
Delphine tilted her head to the side. “Lunita?”
“Yes. That’s what I want. I have to get rid of her.”
Delphine gave me the oddest look as if she had just realized that I was truly insane. “Tell me this. Is Lunita the only one you want to say goodbye to? What about the others?”
Huh?
Her words caught me off guard.
I almost dropped the glass. My heart boomed in my ears. “O-others?”
Max muttered under his breath, “Fuck. No, man. There’s more?”
I turned to him. “I-it can’t be.”
Terror decorated Max’s face.
Shaking, I put my view back on Delphine. “H-how many? W-who? What are their names? How fucking crazy am I?”
“Emily.” Delphine raised both of her hands in the air. “Calm down and drink.”
I swallowed hard, the realization hitting me like a ton of bricks. My eyes watered. “M-more?”
She gave me a sad smile. “Drink.”
The word hovered between us like a chilling echo.
I lifted the glass to my lips and drank the red liquid.
It seeped down my throat like hot lava, filling me with a blazing sensation that was simultaneously sweet and tart.
Heat boiled in my veins.
Unbearable agony erupted within me. It was a roaring beast of pain that gnashed its teeth against my insides.
“Ugh!” I dropped the glass.
It crashed to the floor.
I gagged and gripped my throat, but nothing came out. “What the fuck?!”
Suddenly, I felt as if my insides were being rearranged, then ripped apart, as though that red liquid was a poltergeist wreaking havoc within my body.
My vision blurred into a terrifying kaleidoscope of distortions.
Please no!!
I trembled as my head spun, and every cell in my body screamed in protest.
“Yo!” Max’s voice registered from somewhere far away, as if spoken through a wall of thick fog. “What’s happening to her? What did you do?!”
Delphine’s response was calm amidst the storm, her voice steady and unyielding. “She’s going into herself. You must stay calm.”
“N-no! No!” I shook my head and screamed. “I don’t want to do this anymore!”
“Em!”
“Max, you need to sit back down!” Delphine’s command cut through the chaos like a knife. “It’s already happening. You can’t help her now.”
“Delphine! Stop this!” My chair tipped over as if caught in an earthquake.
I lost my footing.
Beneath me, the solid ground gave way to an abyss of black nothingness.
And this wasn’t the darkness of a starless night or the comforting shadows of a room with the lights turned off.
This was an all-consuming void.
An endless expanse of emptiness that swallowed light, sound, and hope with an insatiable hunger.
And then I was falling.
Not a gentle descent, but a harsh, ruthless plunge into the void.
Like I was being sucked into a vacuum.
No!!!!
Terror—cold and relentless—seized me. It clawed at my insides, icy talons raking over raw nerves, setting my every sense on fire. My heart pounded like a war drum in my chest, its rapid rhythm the soundtrack to my horrific experience.
And I knew right there—as I tumbled through the darkness—that I would never be the same after this.