Saturday, July 22, 2017

Journey: Inanna's Talisman Part One.





“He would like to speak with you, Colleen.” Toby said as he stepped into her room. “I will not pretend to know if you will or will not obey him, or what the consequences are if you do not. I also will refrain from pretending we are still friends.” And with that he left the room.
Colleen lay on her bed and didn’t move. The shouting match she had with Toby the night before was fresh in her mind, even if she had been too drunk to stand up. Too much alcohol, Colleen, she said to herself, way too much drinking lately, but there was little else to do. Things were about to get very ugly and they were going to get there in one hell of a hurry.
“You look as if you didn’t sleep much last night, Colleen.” The voice came from the shower and Colleen knew instinctively who it was. “You shouldn’t scream at Toby. He has a gentle soul.”
“I met Kirstin.” Colleen said evenly. “She had your fingerprints on her. I’m beginning to recognize your work, Inanna.”
“He tells me you rather submit to me than to him.” Inanna said. “I find that impossible to believe.”
“I never said I preferred that option, only that I was surprised that it wasn’t offered to me.” Colleen was mildly startled when Inanna walked out of the shower. Colleen considered Inanna to be wholly female and kept forgetting about the male body she shared with Regal.
“Do you know why I summoned you here today?” Inanna asked.
“I’m certain I won’t like it.” Colleen steeled herself. “How did you know I would come back? I could have lied to Kirstin, you know.”
“You aren’t smart enough to lie effectively, Colleen.” Inanna laughed. “You know the truth is meaningless and malleable, yet you cling to it. You gave into her far more easily than I thought you would.” She dried off with a towel but didn’t dress.
“Are you going to release her?” Colleen asked. “Is she going to get her life back?”
Inanna walked towards Colleen slowly and Colleen knew better to step back or to show any sign of discomfort. “Would you like that, Colleen?” Inanna smiled as she approached Colleen. “Is there anything you would do, something in particular that you would do, to convince me that releasing that one human was worth my time?”
“If you lied to Kirstin about releasing her if she fulfilled her terms then I can only assume you would lie to me, too.” Colleen fought to keep her voice even. “But it doesn’t matter. If you want to humiliate me you’ll find some way to do it. Just tell me what I have to do.” Colleen looked down to discover Inanna was aroused. “Or do your worst. I know better than to resist.” Colleen remembered what Kirstin had told her and prepared herself for the assault. There was nothing to do but to lie there and take it, whatever might come. Inanna had never touched her, physically, but Colleen knew that could end in an instant.
“Considering what you know I am capable of doing to you, Colleen, you are still quite brave.” Inanna smiled and Colleen knew that was a bad sign. “However, I will release Kirstin, and not bother her family, and I’ll make sure she is guarded, once the war is done, if it is ever truly done, and I think you can help with that, but I will need your willing cooperation.”
“Why?”
“I’d like to think when all of this is over you will consider serving me.” Inanna said.
“Seriously?” Colleen was stunned.
“Why not? You are proficient and you’re dangerous.” Inanna said. “I like that in a human. But there is something I would like for you to do for me, to prove your worth, and as a token for your undying gratitude for what did not happen to you today.”
“What do you want me to do?” Colleen asked.
“Return to the desert.” Inanna replied. “There is something I want you to bring back to me, and I want you to hurry, Colleen, time is short.” Colleen shivered at the smile on Inanna’s lips. “You will find that last remark filled with irony, Colleen, in time.”  Inanna laughed. “Unless you would rather please me by staying here, I suggest you go now.”

“Why do you do this creature’s bidding?” Toby asked as Colleen prepared to leave.
“Why do you?” Colleen replied.
“I am the only person capable of operating the lab in a manner which provides a sense of security. I can protect other people as long as these creatures believe they are safe here.” Toby said and he slid down to the floor and sat.
“You’re lying.” Colleen said. “I’m here because I’m afraid of what they’ll do to me, or other people, if I try to leave. But you could bolt and run. You’re here because you think they’re going to do something that you’re involved in, and perhaps they will, but you aren’t afraid as you should be, and not nearly as scared as I am.”
“Just leave.” Toby replied. “You’re worse than they are sometimes.”

Colleen boarded the bus and knew it would be a long and hellish journey. But Inanna had demanded she go by bus, and that she not use credit cards, and she was not allowed to have her cell phone, either. Colleen wondered if she was about to be ambushed in the same manner that Kirstin was, but Inanna would want a more personal show, Colleen thought. That Demon liked the idea of watching those who displeased her suffer. Was she being watched? Colleen knew she must be, and she knew not all of those who watched would be friendly. Was Colleen bait? Was this a mission to see who would make the first move in the war? Colleen hated waited and she hated not knowing, and she hated bus travel. Inanna knew how to torment humans in both large ways and very petty ways.

Instinctively, Colleen scanned the other passengers as they got on the bus. There was an old man, in tattered clothing, who was carrying a red gym bag as if there was a Holy relic inside. A young couple entered the bus next, and the young woman looked angry and her partner, a tall thin man, looked as he were boarding a bus to his execution. A bevy of young men in uniform entered next, all laughing and enjoying the excitement of the trip. That’ll wear out quick, Colleen thought, as soon as they realize how slow this trip will be. Colleen cringed when a woman with two small children boarded the bus. The woman looked as if she might be twenty, at most, and the children were old enough to be in school. One of them was already crying and Colleen hoped they were going to make the entire trip with her. Six men boarded, all of them looking boarded and disgusted, as if they had just lost their jobs and were now heading home. A young man wearing sunglasses boarded, his long hair wild around his face, and Colleen wondered if he was as stoned as he appeared. Two women boarded, and they were both wearing identical red shirts, and Colleen wondered if they were in the same business or a cult. The women both wore their hair pulled back into ponytails and neither looked very happy. Colleen wished she had brought a book, but settled for a sip out of the flask she had hidden in her coat.

Birmingham was just a matter of hours away, but the bus would have to make a half dozen stops, pulling off of the Interstate and into a small town here and a truck stop there, picking up passengers, letting some off, and always time was slipping away as slowly as the miles. There was no scenery to speak of, nothing about the trip that distinguished one mile from the other or one hour from the other. Colleen realized by the middle of the afternoon she could have been in California already if she had flown, but she also knew better than to try to cheat Inanna. Why was Toby still at the lab? She knew he had a fascination with the Demons but she also knew he held a deep seated abhorrence for them. Yet he seemed more focused than he had been before. What was he trying to accomplish? Did Regal know what Toby was doing? Colleen wondered if this trip was orchestrated to remove her from the lab. Had she returned too soon last time? Was this whole trip nothing more than a waste of time to get her out of the way? Colleen knew better than to get drunk while riding a bus but there seemed so little else to do. There was some time to kill in Birmingham and Colleen decided to walked through the station and stretch her legs.
The bus station itself was like being in a much larger bus. That made sense to Colleen once she thought of it for all of these people, or at least most of them were passengers, present, future or past, passengers. They didn’t own reliable cars or they couldn’t afford to fly, or they got stranded somewhere and this was their only way back or their only way forward. What security there was here wasn’t tight. Bored policemen walked through the terminal without noticing the people around them and Colleen wondered if this was the last vestige of free travel humans could use. Humans. Colleen realized she had begun to use the word more often, to differentiate between people and Demons. Had Kirstin been telling the truth? Colleen doubted the woman had been actively lying but considering what she had been through there was no telling how scrambled her mind was when Colleen had met her. What did Inanna want this time, on this trip, from Colleen? Why send had Inanna sent Kirstin to her to begin with? Go back from the desert just to be sent back into the desert? Colleen found a bench where no one else was sitting and plopped down on it. The clock on the wall was an old analog thing and Colleen hoped it was right. She had forty minutes before the next bus and the slow plodding migration west would continue at a pace that destroyed her peace of mind, what there was of it. When would the next victim of Inanna contact her, or would it be a pawn of another Demon? Colleen could feel the weight of the pistol next to her side but she knew how useless it would be if Inanna, or some other Demon, demanded her submission. Colleen realized she did believe Kirstin. She did believe Demons controlled human by a far greater degrees than she had ever imagined, and they did so with very little effort. Most of what Kirstin had done she had done in the name of fear; she feared for her family, she feared for her own sanity, and she feared Demons, yet that fear was largely based on possibility rather than direct action. Colleen knew that Inanna’s threat to harm her was not simple talk, but after meeting Kirstin Colleen’s fear level had risen. What that it? Colleen shifted on the hard plastic bench and looked around. Anyone here could be possessed. But meeting Kirstin had been no accident and her message was clear; fear, and more fear.

But there was fear without Demons. Roger Fortran had discovered fear when Colleen had pressed a false accusation against him. Had another body not shown up Colleen might have been able to convict him. The DA and the Mayor was all for stringing Fortran up until new evidence arrived then it was Colleen who was in the crosshairs. When given the chance to either come clean and face the consequences of her actions, Colleen had decided to murder instead. She had murdered a serial killer, true enough, but it was still murder and Colleen knew it. None of this that happened had occurred when the Demons were around. Even without Demons, humans were by far their own worst enemies. Demons used human beings as hosts as sowed fear among humans in order to assure cooperation, willing cooperation, abject cooperation, but Fortran had threatened Colleen with ruin in order to get her to kill for him. Colleen looked up at the clock and realized time was nearly up but she couldn’t move.

Colleen had been in law enforcement long enough to know that some policemen preyed on civilians in many ways but in the long run the law was upheld even with some level of corruption. Demons cared more about one another than they did humans, and suddenly Colleen realized that most cops she had ever known held the thin blue line more dear than the people they were sworn to protect. But there was a difference. In the end, humans could be counted on to do the right thing, Colleen thought. But that thought seemed hollow. A woman’s voice announced her bus was leaving and Colleen had to hurry.

The bus leaving Birmingham already had a line of people trying to board when Colleen arrived. Some had light suitcases and many had plastic bag from grocery stores or retail shops that carried their worldly possessions for the trip. Nearly all were staring at a cell phone screen, and even before the trip began, most radiated boredom. Colleen joined the line and some of the passengers grumbled that the driver was helping an elderly woman onto the bus, her walker left temporarily beside the door like a waiting puppy. There was no system in place for boarding, no agreement as to how it ought to best be done, just a cultural expectation of waiting and resentment when things slowed for any reason. Colleen realized that neither Demons nor humans did anything to improve the lot of people like these, and a vast majority of humans lived lives that were much worse. Were Demons the cause of human misery or did humans need the help in heaping sorrow on the misfortunate? As Colleen boarded the elderly woman was sitting behind the driver’s seat, her plastic bag clutched to her chest like a talisman, and her eyes staring straight ahead. Colleen took a seat next to a window, and close to the front, and as the last passenger boarder the driver fetched the walker, sat down, and the door closed with a hiss.

The bus moved slowly through what Colleen could only guess was not one of the better parts of Birmingham. Plastic bottles and other forms of trash littered the uneven sidewalks and there were many buildings that looked abandoned or where shuttered. A man who wore a heavy coat but no pants stood with one finger raised as the bus passed. No, Colleen thought, humans were a greater threat to themselves than Demons could be. In this, Kirstin was wrong. Whatever part of human activity they might control, Demons had not created the misery that plagued humanity. Even if they singled out a person, or even a group of people for control, Colleen now suspected there were far fewer Demons than she had before. If Regal was telling the truth, and Colleen seriously doubted that he was at any given time, at most they could hope to do it keep humans from committing collective suicide. Were they enough of them to control all the terrible weapons that humans had created? World War Two might be proof there was not. Colleen wondered why Regal would lie about how much control Demons had, but then again, she had learned it was the nature of Demons to lie nearly all the time.

The bus gained speed and lumbered towards the Interstate. The driver wheeled the bus onto the ramp and Colleen wondered how long it would be before they exited the highway again, to deposit a few passengers, to pick a few up, and to crawl westward? The overcast skies allowed very little light and that further dampened her thoughts. Demons were no worse than cancer, perhaps, and also, maybe they were not as large a danger as Kirstin had imagined. The greater danger, as far as Colleen could see, was the apathy that humans had for one another, the hostility they displayed towards the weak and the old and those whose minds wandered at will. Did Demons take advantage of that? Certainly, but they were not the authors of it by no means. Colleen wondered, despite the dangers inherit in doing so, if she might not live longer and happier serving Inanna. At least that would able Colleen to focus on one great evil at the time rather than a host of minor ones.


End chapter

Tuesday, July 11, 2017

The Possession of Kristin Crump

Colleen thought seriously about killing off the rest of the whiskey, and perhaps spending another night. This was as good a place as any to wait, to rest, to drink, and to listen to the couple next door. They seemed to have an endless amount of energy and time. The first night had been comical, and the next irritating, but now Colleen wondered what these two were like. They had to be young, very young, and they had to be either unemployed, or Colleen thought wryly, on the run. But their collective sex drives were insatiable and loud. The pounding of the headboard gave Colleen the image of the guy being big and burly, hammering away at his partner while she moaned, and sometimes screamed, with delight.

The knock on the door sent Colleen scrambling for her gun, cleared the alcohol away as the knocks faded, and sent Colleen’s heart racing. Was this it? But Demons wouldn’t knock. They wouldn’t have to knock.
“Colleen?” It was a woman’s voice. “I know you’re in there. Please open the door.”
Colleen froze. No one knew where she was. No one had any way to know her name. But maybe the front desk had given her name out. That seemed more likely than Demons, but Colleen felt it. She felt the fear in the woman’s voice and knew that level of fear came from few places.
Colleen stuffed the gun into her waistband and opened the door.
The smell hit her before anything else, the smell of an unwashed body, the smell of a human being who had not bathed on a regular basis in months, if not years. Colleen backed up, repulsed by the smell, and the woman walked into the room. She was fifty, maybe younger, but her face was a mess of regular sunburns and scars. He scraggly hair hung down and hadn’t seen a brush in forever. The woman wore a pair of pants that were far too large and an oversized shirt.
“My name is Kirstin Crump” the woman began simply, “and I’ve been sent to speak to you.”
“By whom?” Colleen asked.
“I think you know the answer to that question, Colleen.” Kirstin replied. “I don’t think I have to explain that, but they want me to explain me to you.” Kirstin looked down at the floor. “But please, first, they’re allowing me to bathe, and eat. Could you let me borrow your shower for a few minutes, and I’d like some food, real food. Something that isn’t fried or from a fast food joint. A salad, I haven’t had a salad in over three years. And some milk. Have you got any…” Kirstin stopped, “…this is only for one night so please help me, okay?” And Colleen saw the woman had begun to cry.
“Yeah, the shower is in there.” Colleen told her. “I’ll go get you some food.”


Colleen watched Kirstin eat silently and she realized Kirstin was a lot younger than she first appeared. But very clearly Kirstin had lived a very hard life.
“I’m thirty.” Kirstin said abruptly. “I’m married I have a son.” She looked up Colleen and then continued eating, then spoke again, “My husband is in the Air Force, and I was a stay at home mom. I did the stay at home mom damn well. I worked out a lot, I shopped for organic food, and I was the perfect wife. One day in Yoga class I met a woman named Elizabeth. She was a strange one. Some days we were friends and some days she acted like she didn’t know me, but no one was more focused on her health. No one I had ever met was smarter or funnier, when she was herself.”
“Elizabeth was possessed.” Colleen nodded.
“Yeah, and I’m glad you said that.” Kirstin said. “I was afraid you wouldn’t believe me. Or they were just toying with me again.”
“Go on.”
“So Elizabeth and I started doing stuff together, and she was super generous to me, and to my family. I was slowly being groomed as a host. By the time she revealed to me what was going on, I already suspected something weird. So the day came that she asked me to submit to possession, and laid out how good life would be if I did, and how protected my son would be. But I said no. I didn’t trust Elizabeth with my son, and I certainly didn’t trust the Demon. So they punished me. The Demon possessed me. I tried to fight it but that lasted about five seconds. You’ve never been possessed, have you, Colleen?”
“No” Colleen whispered.
“It stayed inside of me for about a minute. Just a minute, really, just that long. It was like every terrible thing that I had ever felt at any time in my life had been poured into that minute, and I relived it all. I came to screaming on the floor. Then Elizabeth gave me a choice. My son and husband would be possessed, or I could walk out of the door right then and become a ten dollar whore. I wasn’t allowed to eat real food or sleep inside. I had to turn tricks at least once ever day and I wasn’t allowed to take money that I hadn’t worked for. If I killed myself they would go after my family, and they would have to do what I was doing. If I contacted anyone I ever knew they would go after my family. If I ever told anyone this…you get the picture.” Kirstin stopped speaking and Colleen saw tears falling from her eyes.
“So why are you telling me this?” Colleen asked.
“They said I had to do this for five years, as punishment, and then I could go back to my life.” Kirstin said. “I’m not sure I ever believed them, really, but I have no choices. Then a few days ago they came to me and made me an offer; if I could convince you to go back to him they would let me go home and never touch me or my family again. If you don’t then they are going to take my son and make me watch.”
“Oh God” whispered Colleen.
“There is no God, Colleen.” Kirstin laughed bitterly. “There is only them. They control everything and nothing stops them from doing what they want. I watched my son kill ants with a stick one day. We’re less to them than those ants were to me. I was an educated woman with a good family and a nice house and I have a son. But they that from me and the first night I spent sleeping under a bridge I was raped. The man was possessed and he told me if I fought back… well, you know by now anything that has happened to me, why it happened. I lived in Maine. In three years I’ve walked here. I’ve been beaten, abused, kicked, dragged around by my hair in the parking lot of a strip joint, and used in ways you cannot imagine, but I have never been arrested. They have that much control over our lives, Colleen. They can do what they want. And they want you back in Atlanta. If you aren’t going to go then you will have to kill me.”
“What makes you think they’ll honor their deal with you?” Colleen asked.
“You think I give a fuck?” Kirstin laughed. “I’ll believe anything. I’ll do anything they ask and they know it. I’ll grasp any straw. I’ll jump through any hoop. They’ve offered to give me my life back and I’ll obey and I will be grateful and I will do anything they ask, ever.”


Colleen took Kirstin out into the desert and beat the hell out of her. She then took her to a truck stop and handcuffed her before letting her out of the car.
“Are you sure this will work?” Colleen asked.
“Yes, I have to look like I escaped.” Kirstin replied. “I think you’ll hear about me on the news, damn, I think you broke my jaw.”
“It had to look real, I’m sorry.” Colleen said.
“Yeah, thanks for that.” Kirstin said. “I’ve got to go be rescued now.”
“Good luck.”


Colleen turned the car around and headed back to Atlanta.


Monday, July 10, 2017

Hearing




Regardless of what your mind might tell you in the small hours of the night, the dogs know the truth. For all his faults, Marco Ladakh is a very large animal with a very big voice. Both he and his sister have excellent hearing as do my two girls. Lilith Anne and Tyger Linn are more apt to investigate before they start cranking up the vocals but Marco’s default position is to let everyone in the area code know something has attracted his attention. Anyone who gets up during the night causes a chain reaction of investigation. I’m not saying it would be impossible for anyone to sneak up on me after dark but it would be, at the least, inadvisable.

 Last night I woke up to the sound of two people talking outside. I checked the Tyger Linn and she was asleep at my side. Now, the most human of reactions is to trust the organ sitting inside the skull, but I listen for the voices and I listen to the sound of two large dogs sleeping. If I heard it, and my hearing isn’t the best at all, someone else in the room would have heard it, too. No one heard anything. Ergo, the sounds did not exist. I lay back down and listen, not for voices, but for the sounds of sleep within the pack. Tyger Linn’s lungs draw oxygen in, release carbon dioxide, and she sleeps, and perhaps dreams, too. A small, but potent animal, Tyger is acutely aware of when I am awake and when I am not. If I sit up she’ll be off the bed before I can swing by feet over. Before I can reach a standing position the Cousins will be up and milling around. Lilith will hit the floor as soon as she hears everyone else get up. No, no, there were no voices.

I remember pieces of a dream in was having. It was a shifting, disjointed story, but there was a woman there who was speaking to me, and it may have been her voice that drifted into the waking world. It would seem the sound of voices would be less of trigger between the worlds than the more haptic sensations that occur in dreams. This thought sticks with me, lays down beside Tyger Linn, and I know sleep is gone. But why do we hallucinate voices and sounds and not the sensation of touch? Paracusia seems to be associated with mental illness but it also appears on its own with no apparent reason. Yet far fewer people report in feeling a touch on the skin, or a feeling of orgasm without physical interactions, I suspect. A person can, and many do, have orgasms during sleep, and during dreams, but it’s not the same as hearing voices in the night that come from no sound made.


We humans are geared to accept fiction. Money is a fictional construct that most people in the world have bought into, no pun intended, and we accept as truth what deep down inside we know is fiction. There is nothing about a one dollar bill that is intrinsically more valuable than a one hundred dollar bill, except what we pretend there is. There is nothing valuable about a famous singer or actor except that we make it so by believing it is. There has never been a sports figure or an actor that made your life better in appreciable terms but they are paid (with the fiction of money) in amounts that stagger the imagination, which is where all of this began.

Facebook is a hybrid of both real people and people whose existence is partially fiction. There are people on Facebook who know who I am, and I know who they are, and we interact at various times during the day or week. My sisters are there, the Nibbling is there, my mother and close friends all share information and time inside a computer server that is located somewhere. Yet there are other people, people I have never met, might never meet, whose lives I follow and whose photos I look at, and whose dogs I could name more easily than I could my co-workers’ children. We agree to accept most of what is posted at face value, again, no pun intended, and rarely to the nonfictional real life people and the fictional far away people whose lives never truly become 4-D, mix.

There’s very little maintenance needed for a relationship that has half a dozen states in between those involved in it. There’s no need for a break from the person or some irritation with the way someone snores or forgets to bring the chicken for supper. We are geared to accept fiction, sometimes, more than we’re geared to accept reality. But love is both fiction and reality, and far away relationships have been known to blossom and produce futures where the real world has failed. The reality of love is that it is fiction, and the fiction of love is that it is reality. Two people have to agree in this fiction, like money, movies, and driving etiquette.

Tyger Linn takes her nose and pushes me. This is a sign she realizes I am awake and I ought to be petting her. The house is quiet and the sound of sleeping dogs I all I can hear. Tyger drifts off again and there background sounds of home fill the air. Oxygen, carbon dioxide, and other gases are mixed and dissipated and they all act as the medium by which sound travels. Somewhere out there, running along electrons that are running along wires that are slinging bits of data through the air, two people are talking, perhaps exploring love, fictional or nonfictional, and I wonder if they’ll make it. They will ignore the warnings of those around them and swear they hear something no one else can.

In the wee hours of the morning, if those who sleep have not woken, sit down and ask yourself what reality is, or what your mind tells you it might be. Reality, like love, has been mistaken, misspoken, and forsaken before. You cannot afford to believe in fiction, in deaf realities, and even money, especially when those whose hearts are true, would not raise their heads for it. Ah, but, love! How a dog react to love tells you all you need to know about how real it is.

Take Care,
Mike