Her boots clicked against the wet cobble stone as she walked, tightening her coat around her as she went, she kept her hat tilted forward, letting the rain run off of it.  The distinguished bleakness of the aspiring city had begun to get to her.  She reached out with her cold hand and gripped the equally freezing brass handle of the oak and glass door and with a pressured heave pulled it from her way.  Her hand ran up the worn smooth rail as she ascended the ancient and warping stairs.  

She closed her eyes as she reached into her pants pocket for the bent old key that she had to nearly force into the crooked hanging door. The door creaked shut as she turned instinctively and worked the chain lock. She threw her dripping leather book bag next to the only pieces of furniture she really had, a worn chair and a simple coffee table.  She removed her coat and placed it over the back of the worn velvet upholstery.  Her nearly broken and graying top hat was placed on the jutting corner as she walked to the kitchen. Her light boots nearly stumbling over her sleeping cat in the darkness of the room.  The apartment was a corner one, and was lined by a number of tall arched windows, yet she kept them blotted by a set of dusty patchwork curtains made of dark reds, grays and blacks.


Her hand lifted a large cube of sugar from a box that sat on the counter.  Her hand felt around in the dark for the cup and saucer that sat near it. Her fingers ran across its unwashed surface and the sharp chip that edged its rim.  Setting the sugar on the saucer she opened the icebox and removed a green bottle that had its neck ringed by a burnt spoon that hung by a small piece of hemp string. She felt a shape move around her ankles and looked down to see the black shape of Velocet, her cat rubbing against her legs. She smiled lightly as she placed the items in her hands on the counter and slowly lowered to a crouch. She gently ran her hand down his back before lifting him into her lap where he rubbed his head against her chin as she held him and gently petted his fur. He twitched slightly, signaling that he wanted to be put back down.  

She stood up slowly after he leapt back to the floor and trotted off. She sighed as she retrieved the items from the counter and walked slowly over to a worn chair that sat facing the shaded windows. With a gently click she set the cup and bottle on a small coffee table besides her.  

She removed the spoon from the bottle and bridged the edges of the cup with it before placing the cube of sugar upon it. After a small hiss of the bottle opening she poured the emerald liquid across the sugar until its edges rounded. She felt around for a moment for a box of matches that were silently opened and carefully removed one.  With a slight snap of her wrist she squinted as the room was illuminated for a second as she watched the sulfur burn.  The scent of it hung in her senses as she lit a well-used red candle that had long melted down an old bottle and onto the oak surface next to her drink.  She flicked her wrist again, turning the match into a glowing ember before finding another match.  

The flames danced slowly across the surface of the sugar. With a single gently motion she moved the spoon and the amorphous mound into the waiting ethanol mixture.  With a gently twirl of the spoon she rapped it on the edge of the cup.  Her left hand reached for the handle as her right cupped over the candle, a swift blow brought the room back into the solemn darkness of before.


She closed her eyes and took a soundless drink of the sharp mix, then stopping for a moment to feel her body; she took another, draining the concoction as quickly as she could without choking.  She placed the cup back to the plate with a slight tinkle.  Her hands felt around on the footstool in front of her.  They rested for a moment on the cool wood of a violin and bow.  She thought for a moment before shouldering it and drawing the bow up.  

Canon in D major began flowing through the darkness as Velocet curled up at her feet.  


2


Darkness seeded into a flame of bitter confusion.  Her soul floated like the monarch with its ginger and black wings.  The warmly chilling hands of the absinthe had cupped her head as if about to kiss her as passionately as a dear lover.  A feeling like smoke from a cigarette flowed about in the darkness.  It curled about her, its warm skin feeling like the nicest of fur wraps.  The icy hands of a now familiar man caressed her neck, his cool breath upon the pale of her neck as he moved for a gently peck on her cheek.  The shivers he sent up her spine with every caress aroused her passion.  His gentle hands laid her down, the ticklish feeling of grass beneath her as she settled teased at her as she moved her hands up his back, rubbing his wide shoulders tenderly as their lips locked.  His arms cupped her shoulders and held her to him.  

A fade began, an emptiness forming in her chest as she felt his embrace begin to fade, his emerald eyes filled with sorrow as she reached out for him as they drifted apart.  He reached out a single pale hand in a known to be feeble attempt to keep her with him.  Tears filled her eyes as all faded to a numb blackness.  

The haze of a dream waited her as her eyes opened to the familiar surroundings of her apartment.  Her fingers moved slowly and ran gently across her slightly parted lips.  She could feel the cool lines of salt that were now but a trace of tears.  Her violin lay still in hand across her lap as Velocet emerged from a glowing slit in the curtains; he yawned and moved from sight.  

She remembered an old line she had heard once.

Tis better to have loved and lost then to have never loved at all.

She hated the saying, feeling that the person who was quoted first about it had never truly loved, or had they ever had a love like that she felt now as emptiness deep within her soul, then they were but fooling their self.  

The rumble of a vehicle on the street below stalled its movement before her windows, its obnoxious tune bothering her for a moment.  She rested her forehead on her hands as she listened to heavy footfalls trek towards her door.

A thunder pound came to the door, then another in quick recitation.  She shrunk from them as they sounded through the silence like the first cannons of a siege.  She rose slowly as another set of pounds began.  Her hand twisted gently at the handle, ceasing the infernal drumming.  The door creaked open till the chain was taught, she kept her head tilted down, trying to keep it from the tall man on the other sides view.  

“Good morning,” he said with a bit of shock in is voice.

“Inspector Armorte…” she replied quietly.

“Tis everything alright Miss Julia?”

“Well apparently not if you’re at my door Inspector,” she said somewhat sharply.

“Perhaps I should come back another time,” Armorte said with a bit of reeling from Julia’s building of a wall between them.

He began to turn when Julia gently gripped the sleeve of his coat. “No, Wait, please,” she said quickly, “I’m sorry, I just had a rough night. I’ll be right down Inspector.”

“Very well Miss Julia,” Armorte said with a small sigh as he placed his hat on his balding head.

She shut the door gently and walked through the apartment to the small lavatory.  A resounding click sounded as she pulled down the small chain that connected to the stuttering light above.

The sunken dark patches around her eyes began to look like the sockets of a decrepit skull, yet she didn’t care as she began filling the stained sink.  The crispness of the water as it spread across her face made her think of the small flashes she could remember of the only times of peace that she could remember.  She sunk against the sink, her head resting against the sullied mirror as a few tears ran down her face with the cool water.  She stood up slowly, looking herself in the eyes and sighing quietly to herself.  

Burn all the good things in the Eden Eye, we were to dumb to run, too dead to die…

A gentle mauve lipstick glided across her lips as she watched it meticulously. She set the brass tub down and reached for a small container and removed the lid, her fingers pressed gently into the white balm, she spread it carefully around her eyes, removing any sign of the dark shadows. The door creaked open again as she walked out, her hands fiddling with the bent key once more.  

The smell of drying stone drifted to her senses as she entered the dim cerulean light of day.  Armorte was leaning against the rather simple black and gray carriage, a lumpy cigarette hung from his mouth as he struck a match that he had produced from his wool over coat.  The scent of sulfur drifted once again to her senses as she approached him, her hands deep in the pockets of her trench coat. He moved quickly to open the door and offered her a hand as a rest to enter the dark cavity.  

She barely looked up as she passed on his attempt at being a gentleman.  Her mind was not on the matter at hand yet.  She leaned back against the cool leather of the seating, finding it a comfort from her usual broken down chair.  Armorte followed a slight grimace from the discomfort of trying to work his tall and wide form in to the rather small wooden carriage.  

“Thank you for coming Miss Julia, I felt that breadth of your knowledge might help on a recent case.” He said as he tried to get comfortable, his shoulders barely fitting inside the walls, his back slouching a great deal to keep from hitting his head.

Julia sighed, knowing of the nature of his cases.

“So what are the details?” She said as she looked out of a slit in the curtains, reading the signs as they went past.

“Well, the girl was found a few hours ago by one of the local street urchins.” He began, his large fingers rubbing the edge of the hat he held in his hands and a look of worry in his eyes as he brought forth more information. “She has not been identified yet and none of the locals seem to recognize her.” Armorte sighed and parted the curtains a little to see where they were, “other than that, not much has been deduced as of yet.”

“I see,” Julia said, a bit of disappointment in her voice from the lack of details.

“Ah, well it looks like we are here,” he said as the carriage slowed to a stop.

Armorte opened the door and stepped out, once again turning to offer Julia a hand in assistance that once again went without notice.

The fact that the alleyway was fairly well hidden already told Julia that this was a plan that was well thought of


333

There was a scent of sulfur and dried blood that lingered in the air just outside the doorway.  Her stomach churned as she had one last second thought about the meeting.

“It’s alright,” Marcus said softly as he motioned for her to advance through beaded curtain portal,” don’t keep madam Blackwater waiting.”

Julia’s right hand slowly reached out to move the black beaded strings from her path as she stepped forth onto the threshold. The scents of incenses and herbs of such great potency almost immediately stunned her that she could hardly imagine anyone being able to live in such a chamber.

“Greetings child…” a rather melodious voice said before she was blinded by the glare from a match.  

As her eyes readjusted to the light, amazement took her as over a dozen candles flared to life before her without the match moving from in front of the now visibly smiling Madame Blackwater. Half a dozen or more black cats stared at Julia as she took in her surroundings and more intently, Madame Blackwater herself.

The Hoodoo priestess was a good distance from what she had expected.  Before her sat a woman that couldn’t have been over twenty-four at the oldest.  Her long black hair nearly touched the pillows on which she sat with her legs crossed. Her red eyes gazed through Julia’s soul as they peered over a pair of semi oval glasses. On her head she wore a tattered top hat that was stitched and stapled together in some places.  A faded red band that was clothes pinned together held a long ragged feather from the right side, just over a couple of gold rings that pierced the brim. She wore a plain white button up shirt under a long trench coat that was just as ragged and patched as the hat on her head. The cuffs bore a number of metal sculls that looked like some kind of studs and about her neck hung a bone necklace with a silver cross pendant.   Her pants and boots matched the rest of her attire, except her boots looked like a more recent addition from their just worn in look.  Her right hand sat holding a cigarette as she rested her head against the palm, her left hand sat on an ornately carved human skull that was nestled in her lap with her fingers gently tapping across the surface of the forehead.

Julia stood taking in the sight until her trance was broken by a sudden twitch in Madame Blackwaters eyebrow that denoted question.

“Um, Hello Madame Blackwater.” Julia stuttered for a moment, trying to find her words, “Uh, I’m Juli…”

“Child, I know who you are, but I don’t know the true reason you’re here…” Madame Blackwater interrupted, “But I suspect that you don’t either.”

The Hoodoo priestess took a long drag on her cigarette before standing and slowly stepping up to a mere few feet from Julia, her crimson eyes still piercing Julia to the core of her soul.

FINAL


An unlit cigarette hung loosely from her lips as she sat in the dying light of the evening, her fingertips ran slowly over the cover of the ancient tome.  Was what she had read from the yellowing pages been true? Could it be?  Doubt ran through her mind as she questioned every penned word.  



Sand and ash drifted about her toes as she walked through the grey landscape that mimicked some long forgotten moment in her life.  While she would have normally drifted through the land till she found some answer to her questions, this eve she just looked, her mind wandering every now and again as she looked at a flowerbed of gray roses, her fingers turning them to dust when she touched them. She sighed as she dusted her hand off on her pants, leaving a dull smear on their black surface.

“I’m sorry, but they are all I can muster in this place,” the voice fell from behind her; its calmness carried a hint of disappointment as his black clad figure approached her.

“It’s alright, at least these ones don’t have thorns,” Julia said with a weak smile, she felt drained and cut off from her true feelings. He kneeled besides her, his cool hand slowly gripping hers softly.  She closed her eyes as she leaned her head against his shoulder.  

She opened her eyes as she felt something leap into her lap.  Her mind feared that he was gone, yet, his hand still squeezed hers gently, Velocet sat curled up on her lap, a gentle purr rising from him.  She watched as Azreal slowly reached with his other hand to gently rub behind the feline’s ears,   she wondered how this was really happening,  
“To dream is to live, yet living in a dream is not living at all” he spoke, the same hint of sadness caressing his words as his lips barely parted.  

“Then I don’t want to dream anymore, I want to live in truth, I want….” Julia said as she looked him in his eyes,” to be with you.”

“I wish you could to, but that is a decision you have to make for yourself, I can’t make it for you.” He replied as he squeezed her hand.

“But I thought you did make that decision?”

“No, it is fate that makes that decision; I only guide those when it is their time.”




Light crept through the curtains.  Her pale skin glowed in the morning light; Velocet had long made his escape when Armorte had found the land lord to open her door.  He had moved on, his nine lives, while now shorter, had a couple more stories to assist in,

“Shall we be on our way then?” Marcus said as he picked up his guitar case and looked at the cat.  His golden eyes gave one last look from the window ledge before jumping down next to the musician.

Julia seemed to have a faint smile on her lips as she lay on the snow white stretcher, her arms by her sides as they pulled the white sheet over her,  Armorte felt the wet brim of his hat as he tried to understand, he couldn’t grasp any of it, nor would he ever, he would begin a new road once he fully comprehended the results of the fingerprinting, Julia’s having been the only set on the razor, her life the only one that glistened on the edge of the perfect blade, he would finally settle down a few years later, having left the force a tired man.

  As they lifted her body, the first signs of what she had decided began to show, small lines of red forming on the bleached face of the sheet.   Two perfect lines on her wrists, each done with precise care.  

At the final rest of her mortal body, only two people came, Armorte and another, both finding no reason to give final words, He had almost questioned who the man that stood across the hole from him was, his mind would later question while deep in the thoughts of a bottle.  The only man he had ever seen smile at a funeral.  His emerald eyes and pale skin had nearly hypnotized him while they stood in the first snow of winter, the flakes slowly growing on the perfect roses that lay on the fresh earth.