Ritual
Skovsgaard’s ability, while invaluable, will not hold up in court. The only reason she is not dismissed as a fraud is that the reliquary reported her powers as stemming from the incredibly rare death essence.
The scene swirls through the darkness, filling in like a painter in the middle of their magnum opus.
Colors are diluted in some places, while oddly saturated in others.
The bed, then the window to the outside.
Then a wardrobe, a dresser. The end tables swirl in, forming the room I had just seen moments ago.
The room sits like a disembodied part of the world. Like reality had just cracked this section off and thrown it into space.
“Please—” the voice sounds before the body appears. The woman, who I assume is Mara, inches back on the bed, her body wrapped tightly in a towel.
She’s pretty, in a sort of roguish way. Her flaming red hair is soaked from the shower, her shoulders dabbled in beads of water. She’s slim, but muscle is evident in her bare shoulders and back. But those muscles are bulged as she scoots herself as far back as she can from something—someone—unseen.
“You know what happens now, Mara,” a strange, discordant voice comes from somewhere within the room. They don’t sound angry. They sound sad. Disappointed, even.
With a pop, sound cuts out. Like someone had just hit the mute on a dPad. Mara’s mouth is moving, but nothing comes out. The rest of the room, though, is normal volume. I can hear the street noises outside, but the room itself is drenched in silence.
A figure appears, hovering near the foot of the bed. They’re tall. Taller than me, even, which is impressive. Their face is hidden in the darkness of a hood, their body fairly lithe despite the commanding presence in the room.
I turn to see Mara’s face. Her wide eyes are full of the power that Livy had mentioned, but they only radiate fear. Fear that I can almost feel through the communion. The kind of fear that settles in your soul.
Ropes appear, as if out of reality itself. They wrap themselves around Mara’s hands and ankles, tying her securely to the bed. The figure moves into my line of sight, their body almost hovering as hands move out from the dark cloak. They extend out fully, black gloves hiding any visible skin.
Mara’s mouth drops open as her entire body goes rigid. Dark red liquid begins to seep from every orifice—her ears, her nose, her mouth. The towel soaks itself in the same color as the liquid seems to be pulled directly from the woman.
But it isn’t blood. Or, at least, it doesn’t look to be only blood. It’s almost the color of Affliction-tinged with hints of blood and gore.
The entire event takes only a short few seconds, but then Mara is gone. Her corpse withered and broken.
The room flashes into full, horrific color as sound explodes into my senses. My head throbs as lights and shadow dance around my eyes.
“Fuck,” I gasp out as I stumble forward, barely catching myself on the banister of the bed.
“Shit, Arya,” Percy is beside me. Her bionic hand closes lightly over my shoulder, steadying me.
I turn in place, blinking the vision out of my eyes. The room is how I left it; dark, dreary, and bathed in odd shadows from the Affliction outside.
But at least Percy is here.
“What happened?” Percy asks, her voice soft despite the fear that had been there moments ago.
Twice now. Twice in the same day my powers have backfired so tremendously.
I relay what little the vision told me. The odd, feminine suspect. The fear in Mara’s eyes. The gruesome death that almost makes me feel bad for a terrorist like Fyre.
“Is it the same person as the last victim?” Percy asks, her eyes returning to Mara’s corpse.
I suck in a breath through clenched teeth.
“With the way my powers are backfiring today, it’s hard to tell. Usually, I can at least see a face or hear a voice,” I glance at Mara’s corpse before returning my attention to Percy’s face. “I’d say it’s not unlikely. I’d like to have a look at the other corpse again.”
“We can make that happen,” Percy says, her eyes softening as she meets my look. “But first you go home and sleep.”
I glance at her as we slip past the techs and other officers on scene. She quirks one of her dark, thin eyebrows.
“You’re no use to me half conscious and power fluctuating,” she gives me a pointed look.
I chew on my lower lip as we take the stairs, giving Livy a wave as we pass by before pushing the door open to the brisk early morning air.
“Fine,” I say finally, tucking my hands into my peacoat. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”
Percy turns to me; an eyebrow again quirked. “You don’t want a ride?”
“No,” I shake my head, trying to give her a genuine smile despite the pit in my gut. “If I walk off my jitters, I’ll probably actually sleep.”
“Alright,” she says, the look of worry not at all lessened. “I’ll see you at noon, then.”
I watch her climb into her cruiser, giving her a weak thumbs up as she looks back. Her brake lights disappear around the corner before I take off in the other direction.
This side of New Chicago is what most people experience. The crumbling stone, the rusting metal, Affliction dripping haphazardly from piping meant to keep it from human touch.
Yet, this is the side of this city-state that I actually like. Maybe it’s also the side that I find most charming because it’s real to me. It’s not a flashy industrial facade like the other districts. This is where people live. Where they die.
Where they’re murdered.
Dark thoughts. Those are dark thoughts. We don’t entertain dark thoughts. That’s what the therapist said—before I stopped going, at least.
I take a deep, shuddering breath as I make for the nearest alley, out of sight of the officers still meandering around the motel.
I catch my appearance in the nearest bar window and let out a derisive snort. I look like death warmed over. My silver braided hair is coming undone around the once tight updo. My eyes look red-rimmed despite the normalcy of sleep deprivation. My slightly upturned nose is red like I’ve been crying.
And I had been, I guess. This morning. In the solace of my bedroom. Like an adult.
“Alright,” I grunt as I summon the power. “Home it is, Percy. I’ll sleep. That’ll show the demons.”
Then the world shifts into darkness.