#ramorkin

Verd heard the sharp tap of her talons on the kitchen tile as she stepped into the cozy kitchen lit by the first rays of dawn. The great bay window of the breakfast nook overlooked a picturesque garden in late autumn. She didn’t recognize any of the flowers that filled the frame. Their petals and vines covered every space except where stones from a wall peeked out. The gradient of their colors matched the season it was. A sturdy wooden bench stood empty at the end of a stone path sheltered by a lattice arch. A place she’d get to enjoy now that she was home.  

 Faustus lowered the lab door and slid the handle into the locked position. The flower garden was quite pretty in the sun’s early light. He opened a cabinet above the sink and retrieved a short glass tumbler that he filled with cold water from the tap. He handed it to Verd, who drained it in a few gulps. She marveled as the glass refilled itself once emptied. Faustus smiled at the wonder on her face and said, “Richard hated having to refill glasses. Anything he felt was a waste of time he found a shortcut for. The house is full of those kinds of fixes.” He walked to the icebox on the left of the sink and pulled the silver handle to open the door.  The shelves were empty, except for four glass bottles of soda on the shelf in the door. He grabbed two sodas out, flicking the lids off with the nail of his thumb. He handed Verd one, “cheers to making it home alive,” he said.

Verd grinned as she clinked her bottle to his, “cheers,” she said. 

“Now we just have to find out what happened to those kind parents of yours,” Faustus said between gulps. “We need something to eat, and the safest place I know to go is your grandparents, Amos and Evelyn. I know they’ll have food to share. Hopefully, they know something about Richard and Jenie. What do you think about a bath and clean clothes while I go see what Grampa and Granny know?” He finished the rest of his soda and set the bottle on the counter by the sink. 

“That sounds lovely,” she replied. 

“I’m sure there’s something suitable amongst your mama’s things,” Faustus said as he walked through the doorless doorway and into the living room. 

Verd looked out the back windows, hoping she’d have the chance to explore outside soon. Faustus turned right into the hallway with four doors on either side. He passed all of them before stopping at the door at the end and turning a delicate gold handle. Pushing the door open, he walked inside the master bedroom. Orb lights came on above and rotated slowly below a still ceiling fan. He walked around a wooden four-post king bed with a chiffon canopy and through a dark doorway that lit after he stepped through. 

   A nightstand stood between the bed and the doorway Faustus had just walked through. On its surface was a framed picture of a couple with their cheeks pressed against one another. Smiling from ear to ear, holding each other close. Verd stopped and picked up the picture, “Is this, are these my parents?” she stuttered. She heard the water running before Faustus’ shadow hovered in front of her. 

“Yes, that’s Richard and Jenie,”  Faustus said. He leaned around the doorway, looking up at the wall above the nightstand, and reached for a framed picture on the wall that he placed in Verd’s other hand.  He tapped the smiling young man’s face, “this is papa when he was 16,” he said.  Then pointed to the barn owl perched on the young man’s shoulder and said, “and that’s your mama, Jenie, before she became part-human.”

“Whoa, wait a minute, you’re serious. My dad fucked a bird? What!” Verd looked up at Faustus in revulsion. 

“Well, that’s what your papa’s enemies say, sure. I can guarantee you the transformation was spontaneous, nothing your mama had control over. Definitely not a choice Richard made for her. Jenie was his companion from the moment she landed on his outstretched finger. His affection for her was noticeable. Especially since he didn’t have any lovers. It was used as an insult against him, but Richard isn’t the type to give a fuck about what other people say. These two are absolutely inseparable, and that didn’t change even after she was no longer a bird,” Faustus smiled.

“How’d she go from being a regular owl to evolving into being part-human?” Verd asked.

Faustus took the picture frame back from Verd and hung it on its hook. Verd sat the other picture frame back on the nightstand. “Richard suspected she’d eaten tainted meat on the night of her last hunt as an owl. He had no way to prove it, but it wasn’t long after they moved into this house. One morning your mama wasn’t in her nest box,” Faustus pointed to a wooden nest box affixed on the wall near the window on the left side of the room. “Instead, she was asleep face down on the shag rug, her naked fanny in the air and her feathered legs splayed out. Right over there in the floor, in front of where Richard slept.” Faustus laughed as he turned and walked back to the bath to shut off the water.            

 The bath was waist-high. Faustus picked her up and set her on the ledge before helping her down into the hot water. She sighed as the water reached her lower back. There was a wide bench on the opposite side from where she stood. As she sat down, the water covered her up to her neck, and she groaned in pleasure. 

Faustus chuckled and handed her a washcloth and a bottle. He said, “Here’s soap and a cloth to wash with. I’m going to find you something to wear, and then I’ll be out the front door, ok?” He turned and walked into the bedroom.

Verd tensed. “You’re goin’ to leave me alone?” she asked. 

His voice sounded muffled as he walked into the closet. “I’m leaving the front door ajar so I can hear you if you need me. I’m not going further than grampa and granny’s living room.”  He found three dresses that might work, brought them out, and laid them on the bed. “If you sit on either of the sofas by the front door, you’ll probably be able to hear my voice,” he said, looking at her through the doorway.  “I’ll be right back, little bird. You’re in the safest place. I won’t be far,” he said to her reassuringly. 

She smiled at his sincerity, “Ok, ok, I’ll be fine. I’ll sit and wait for you in the living room,” she replied. Watching him walk through the bedroom door and turn left toward the living room before he disappeared from her line of sight. She sat back against the warm stone and raised her talons above the water. Flicking water across the surface until she was bored enough to wash up. 

She stood and reached for a towel hanging from a rack to the right after she was done. She used the step under the water to sit on the ledge before swinging down. She tapped across to the bed to choose from what Faustus had laid out for her to wear. 

The blue peasant dress with the half sleeves had varying gradients and gathered layers in the skirt. Verd slipped it over her head and her arms in the sleeves. She stood in front of the full-length mirror in the corner near the closet. The skirt swished with her every movement, and she could help but twirl. She giggled at the woman in the mirror with bird legs. Happiness wasn’t a feeling she’d thought she’d feel again, and it felt good. She tested her gait as she made her way down the hall, she managed to stop fast enough not to hit the wall, but it was close. 

Turning into the living room, she stared out the back window again before turning to the wall of books. Names and titles she’d never heard of lined four wall-length shelves. She ran her fingers along the spines of the books lining the middle shelf. Stopping in front of the guitar on its stand, she strummed her finger across strings that were in perfect tune. Curious, she lifted the lid on the piano keys and ran the C scale. The piano was in pristine condition as well. Looking back down the shelves, she realized she’d passed a stereo with impressive speakers.  A light was blinking in the center of a button that looked to power it on. 

She pressed it, and the stereo came to life, “Stuck in the Middle with You by Stealers Wheel '' blared through the speakers, startling her. She winced as she located the volume knob, turning it down. Laughing at herself, she bobbed her head to the song and danced in a circle. 

As she turned, her eyes stopped on the snow globe sitting at the center of the mantle above the hearth. There were a couple of figurines on either side, but that was all. Verd stepped back up on the raised pathway, skipped a step, and hopped down in front of the unlit hearth. 

“Clowns to the left of me, jokers to the right, here I am, stuck in the middle with you,” Stealers Wheel sang as she reached the shelf. She giggled at the song’s lyrical coincidence with the creepy porcelain figures flanking the globe. A purple and black checkered jester wearing a fool’s cap with dangling gold bells stood in an over-exaggerated “shushing” gesture. The clown wore a shiny, baggy white jumpsuit with rainbow pom-poms down the front and oversized red shoes. His white-gloved hands framed his open mouth in a silent scream.

She had to flex her talons to lift herself high enough to see the snowglobe at eye level. Inside the dome was a single bearded figure sitting on a stump. A barn owl was perched on his shoulder. Her fingertips traced his features through the glass. His bushy eyebrows were familiar, as was the shape of the eyes and mouth of the bearded figure.  Her eyes shifted to the owl, she didn’t know for sure, but she’d bet that if she compared the owl in this globe to the one in the picture, they’d look the same too. She stared hard, glancing between the two trying to understand why the man sitting on the stump looked like an older version of the boy with the owl from the picture.

Verd wrapped both her hands around the base, and a pale rosy light began to glow from her right wrist. Recoiling, she stumbled back from the mantle. Her brows furrowed in astonishment as she rubbed at the rosy raised hook. Warmth emanated from it as the light glowed. The surface felt smooth and hard as a gemstone. The surrounding skin was the same as it always had been.  The light and heat increased in the hook until it became a hot brilliant beam. She waved it over herself, and it did nothing, wrapping her left hand around her wrist. The light glowed through her palm like she was holding a flashlight. 

She caught movement from the corner of her eye and flinched. Two pairs of glowing red eyes stared at her from the mantle. The jester and clown animated, jerking their limbs loose from their statuesque positions. No longer figurines, they jumped from their pedestals to the shelf. When their tiny feet landed on either side of the snowglobe, a tone sounded, and they grew to double their size. A consecutively higher-pitched tone rang in her ears, and daggers slid from under the cuffs of their sleeves into their open palms. The final tone was a ringing gong that echoed as the two leering faces grew once more, hovering above her. Their heads turned toward her in unison, their jaws dropped open, and a blood-curdling cackle filled the room. 

Owlet

Faustus worked under the orb light, trying to remove the legs to no avail.  The flesh surrounding each of the legs embedded into her skin was stony and hardened. The pollution crept outward when he attempted to cut into the clean tissue around the rocky surface. He abandoned that method immediately. Trying to physically remove any of the legs spread the flesh to stone curse. He rolled back from the table and leaned forward on his knees. Groaning in frustration as he put his head between his hands. 

While in the greygg, when all else failed, he felt like giving up. He’d take a knee and pray to his Livinity. Now she was physically before him. Reverently he picked up her right hand. Rolling forward until he was close enough to kneel on the floor in front of her open palm and slid from the stool. He bent his head until he was close enough to press his lips into her palm.  Closing his eyes, he leaned closer until his forehead touched the skin of her wrist. 

His brows drew together, and he pulled back to confirm that it was no longer just skin on the underside of her wrist. The birthmark was raised now and warm to the touch. It glowed a faint rosy pink, but as he stood, it grew brighter. He traced the shape with his thumb, a scythe with a wing for the blade. Looking over at the bug-like oval filled with green fluid, he shrugged and pointed her wrist at the object. As her wrist faced it, the faint glow became a beam of brilliant rose-colored light.  

Watching in near disbelief as it made a shrill noise, the green fluid evaporated as the light touched it. All eight legs retracted from Verd’s flesh at once. The joints audibly crunched as it rolled onto its back and off her chest to the floor. 

He lifted the smoking remains with a pair of tongs and barely breathed until after it was sealed in the specimen container. The stony necrotic tissue on Verd’s chest cracked and peeled. Flaking off with the brush of his hand, revealing healthy, healed skin beneath. 

She’d not awoken, and Faustus didn’t feel a rush to bring her around. He was pretty sure sunrise was soon, and hunger pains were becoming annoying. He wondered what the market in town looked like these days. He knew that was too long for her to be left alone and far too risky. Friends of the family were closest to the house, just across the lake, and they’d be willing to help. 

Amos and Evelyn, Richard’s parents, were directly connected by a rune carved into the foyer’s outer door. His three younger brothers lived with his parents back then too, and they’d always encouraged Faustus to visit when he wanted. Still, dropping in unannounced didn’t feel right. 

Faustus wished he knew where the two of them were after he’d been crammed in the greygg. Without Jenie, Faustus was responsible for explaining the second nature Verd would have access to now that the curse was removed. He had no idea how to teach an owlet to fly. His wings were a manifestation Father Rod equipped him with to keep up with Verd as she grew. While Faustus’ wings were commanded through his mental will. Verd’s were actual barn owl wings that replaced her arms once she transformed. She needed her mama to navigate the worlds between forms to fledge and learn to fly.

From the corner of his eye, Faustus caught the twitch of  Verd’s eyebrow. Her breathing pattern changed. Her hand clutched at the top of the sheet, forehead creasing in a wince as her eyes blinked open. 

“Verd? Can you hear me?” Faustus asked as he stood, wrapping his hand around hers and squeezing it lightly.

Her dark eyes fixed on him and went wide, “You’re real,” she breathed, looking down at his hand over hers. She squeezed it back and said, “help me sit up.” Faustus cradled his arm around her shoulders and guided her to sit with her legs dangling over the table. He wrapped the sheet around her and kept it from falling. He then arranged it until he was confident it wouldn’t fall from her when she stood. 

Verd looked around in awe and then to his unblinking eyes, “Did we make it? Are we here?” she breathed. 

“Yes, we’re in papa and mama’s house. After you passed out, I carried you down to the basement lab. We’re under the kitchen floor right now,” Faustus replied. 

Verd gasped, fear apparent on her face. She said in a rush, “Scotty saw me through the glass before I walked in! He can’t follow me, right?”  

“You may have accidentally left the outer door ajar when you came into the house. I imagine Scotty heard the safety alarm on the door, saw the flashing light, and followed you through.” He chuckled as he nodded his head, “Richard was worried you’d attempt to wander unnoticed out the door without a sound and light alerting him.” He met her eyes as he said, “When the ding sound stopped, I knew the outer door was closed. I left the lab door open in my hurry to get you down here. Stabilizing you was far more important. I bet the light from the opening on the kitchen floor caught Scotty’s attention. He was a moth to a flame. Once he was down here, I hypnotized him and dusted him.”

Verd frowned at him in confusion and shook her head, “You dusted him? What? What is that?” she said.

“I was given the ability to consume the life force of a creature to extend my own lifespan. I absorb their soul, leaving a husk. All that’s left is the most basic element life is created from. Dust. There’s no afterlife for a creature destroyed in this manner. While it's how I maintain immortality to be at your side, my choices are restricted to those that have done life-threatening harm. Once Scotty was nothing more than a pile of dust, I rinsed him down the drain under the table you’re sitting on,” Faustus nodded his chin toward the drain below them and smiled.

Verd’s eyes widened incredulously as she said, “You ate his soul, and it killed him? He’s dead forever now?”  

“Yes, there’s no chance for that one to live again. He was delicious,” Faustus said and winked. 

She shook her head in disbelief as she looked down. In all honesty, she didn’t feel afraid of Faustus or sad for Scotty. Her hand pressed against her lower belly.  “Am I still bleedin’?”   

“No, I gave you one of your papa’s healing potions,  accelerating the healing process. Your body spontaneously initiated the termination and expelled the tissue already. The blood loss was serious.  I imagine you’re craving iron and might feel weak and a bit tired. Your lower back may still be sore, but the worst part is over,” Faustus said as he sat back down on the stool in front of her.   

“I need a drink of water. My mouth feels dry,” Verd said. 

“The sink is right up the stairs. There’s an icebox as well. I don’t know what’s in there after all this time, but I’m willing to brave a look,”  Faustus offered her his elbow. 

She laughed good-naturedly and took it. Leaning on Faustus, she slid down from the table onto two taloned bird feet attached to barn owl legs that looked nothing like the ones she’d crossed the threshold with hours ago. Verd stood staring down at three sharp black-tipped talons where her toes were and a single one keeping her balance where she thought her heel used to be.  Fine pale hairs covered her foot up to her heel. The genuinely disturbing part was that her heel was at the height where her kneecaps used to be. Her foot was now most of what she thought of as her leg, and it was huge and hairy. White and honey-hued feathers covered the rest of her legs from her heel. Speckle patterned feathers began at her hips.

Faustus smiled as he watched her tentatively flex her taloned feet and said, “It’s a long story, but Jenie, your mama, was a barn owl. You can transform into the form of a human-sized barn owl. That is a form you learn to control shifting into. It isn’t the form you live daily within. I can fly as well, but it’s more of a manifestation of bat wings, not an organic part of me.”

“Guess I’d have mocked you if you’d of said I was also a human-barn owl hybrid in this fantasy with kind parents?” she queried, quirking a honey-colored eyebrow as she raised her right talon and brushed it against his shin.  

He flinched as she tickled him. Laughing, he said, “Your existence is improbable enough as it is. I thought it was a detail best experienced rather than told.” He guided her to the stairs, letting her navigate the stairs ahead of him as she held the railing on both sides.  

Papa and Mama’s House

 The exterior glass door went black, and Birdie’s face disappeared.  Scotty slowed on the sidewalk, unsure of what he saw. A shocked yell thawed his befuddlement and propelled him forward. He rushed through the front door, knocking a pasty Mr. Harlow out of his office doorway.  Drying blood surrounded a grapefruit-sized mass on the office tile near the desk. The light blinked on and off from beyond the exterior door, but Birdie was nowhere to be seen.

One of the heels he’d slipped on her feet earlier that morning stood next to the mess. Bloody footprints lead the heel’s pair to lay across the threshold, keeping the door ajar. Scotty pushed the door open, picking up the shoe as he stepped through the doorway. A bobbing light from above blinked in rhythm with what sounded like a seatbelt alarm coming from inside. 

His boots crunched on the stiff fibers of a doormat where he was sure a sidewalk should be. 

As he looked down, he let go of the door, the sound cut out, and the blinking stopped. Looking up, a steadily shining orb of light floated near a pointed ceiling free of any stationary fixture. The orb floated down to rest above the forest green trim of a wooden door carved with an intricate tree design at its center. Scotty eyed the light suspiciously and turned back to where he’d come from. 

To his surprise, there was now an entirely different door.  An oddly-shaped clear glass pane set in the upper half of a solid oak door replaced the one he’d just stepped through. The wood grain of the door was covered in carved symbols. There were lacy-curtained windows on either side of the strange door. The view offered no further explanation. It was a sunny day on a lush green yard that rolled out to a tree line of tall pines in the distance. No parking lot.  

Scotty turned back to the tree door, scrutinizing the blood-stained gold handle. Pressing the lever at the top of the handle, it clicked open. The orb above the frame did not move as he gingerly pushed the door open with his fingertips. Sweeping his gaze across the room, he saw no one. There were drops of blood on the carpet and a puddle in front of the door. A trail ahead turned in front of the pathway of rear windows.   

As he walked through the door, a gust of air shoved him forward as the door slammed shut behind him. He staggered, yelping, and caught himself on the back of a sofa to his right. He looked over his shoulder and saw only a closed door. His gaze darted around furtively as he stood and straightened his jacket. Two bay windows were draped in the same lacy curtains on either side of the front door that had shut in such a rude manner. He stood between the backs of two sofas on a raised hardwood pathway. The carpet was a rug that exactly fit the capital “I” shape of the living room. 

An enormous hearth of misshapen stones stood in front of the sofa he’d broken his fall with. The mantle above was an ornately carved shelf that adorned the length of the wall. In the center sat a snowglobe flanked by two unnerving porcelain figurines, a jester on the right and a clown on the left. Two doorless doorways stood on either side of the stone wall, the only exits offered to the room’s right. 

The left side of the room contained an identical sofa facing a wall-lined floor to ceiling with shelves packed with books. An antique upright piano stood beside a classical guitar shining on a silver stand. Chest-high speakers on either side of an intimidating stereo took up most space along the wall. An empty doorway on the far side of the room led into a hallway he could not see down from where he stood. 

Floor-to-ceiling windows were shielded by a screened-in deck, accessed through glass french doors at the end of the carpeted pathway he stood on. Through the screen was a black metal fire pit in between the wings of the house. Out beyond the firepit stood a massive tree with its center ballooned out to the size of an entire house with windows but no door.  Beyond the treehouse was a lake. A gentle wind creating ripples in the water bent reeds lining the water’s edge, framing a sturdy wooden pier. Tied to the post at the end was a gondola, bobbing with the motion of the water.

He was staring out the back window when the lights went out in the room he stood in. Curtains of starlings in flight blotted out the view of the rear window. The winged curtains swept across the room. He turned to run as the curtained bay windows facing the green yard disappeared into shadow. A sob of relief escaped him as he saw light through the doorless entryway ahead. 

He ran into an island countertop that stood waist-high, knocking the air out of him. He wheezed and coughed, his eyes adjusting enough to see that he was in a kitchen. Cabinets and pantries surrounded an old-fashioned-looking stovetop and oven. An old-fashioned icebox stood near where the light was coming from. He crossed the honeycomb-tiled floor and looked down on a doorway in the floor. A stairway with a wooden railing led down to a burnt orange floor. A shadow moved across the corner of the floor and then disappeared just outside his line of sight.   

Scotty leaned down, descending the steps as quietly as possible. He looked down over the railing as soon as he could. Birdie was lying on a wooden table, covered with a sheet from the neck down. He jumped past the remaining stairs and rushed to her, his hands outstretched.

From the open shadows in front of him, a deep, sultry voice spoke his name in a sinister tone. 

Scotty was compelled to stop in his tracks and couldn’t move. Looking ahead of him into the shadows, the hairs on the back of his neck raised. He froze when he saw a pair of yellow, glowing lidless eyes. He watched them float slowly toward him from the darkness, their every motion creating visual reverberating waves of bright, mesmerizing colors. 

A towering silhouette emerged from the darkness, outlined by pointy bat ears at the top. Two rows of razor-sharp teeth adorned a joyous grin so infectious that Scotty smiled at the sight of it. He barely noticed the hot liquid soaking the seat of his pants and running down his legs as it filled the soles of his boots. 

A question Faustus had assumed the answer to for some time now finally presented the opportunity for a truthful answer,  “Scotty, did you kill Jess?” he asked.

Scotty stared up into the glowing eyes and watched the pink bifid tongue flick toward his nose. Half of his face began to droop, “Yes. I told Jess that his wife was pregnant with my baby. He charged at me. The dummy knows I open carry. I shot him in the parking lot outside the movie theater. While Birdie was still inside. I watched him hit the ground before I left,” his eyes were beginning to lose their luster, his face slightly slack-jawed as he finished. 

“Thank you for being truthful,” Faustus said, his eyes never leaving Scotty’s now red-rimmed, bulging sockets.  He cupped Scotty’s drool covered chin in his hand and drew him close enough for a lover’s kiss. Whispering, “From dust, you came, and unto dust, you shall return.” 

Lab In The Kitchen Floor

The lid on the oval-shaped eye inside the greygg raised, revealing the living room ceiling of  Richard’s house. A surge of excitement filled Faustus. He punched through the transparent membrane of the lens. The cap of the greygg splintered, opening to the world outside. 

Springing forward, he rolled out onto a carpeted pathway he thought he’d not see again. Distantly, he was aware of the ceaseless soft ding of the outer door alarm.  As his bifid tongue flicked the air, he turned, following the heavy scent of blood in the air. 

Verd lay just inside the door on the floor. The light in the foyer blinked through the narrow windows on either side. The lower half of the dress she wore was soaked. Worrying into her unresponsive face as he whispered a spell Richard taught him meant to keep her unconscious. Scooping her up into his arms, he cradled her. A pang pierced his heart as the reality that Verd was all grown up now settled in. Then his toes squished into the wet carpet, and he looked down. There was a dark circle wider than her backside on the carpet. 

 He ran to the lab below the kitchen floor. In truth, Faustus didn’t know the details of how dangerous the curse was to undo. All he knew was gleaned from sitting inside the greygg. The only part of it he understood was discovered while creating the keyhole. The mechanism was designed to be tripped if he exited the greygg while she was conscious. 

Unconscious was the safest state for her to exist while he figured out how to remove it. Faustus knew nothing about what the trigger released and was too afraid to find out while in the greygg. He was banking on examining it from the outside to explain how to remove it. The lab door on the floor banged open in anticipation of his impending arrival. He turned into the kitchen, hugging Verd tight against him as he descended the stairs two at a time. Crossing the lab to an examination table with a drain in the floor below it. 

He’d picked up enough incantation knowledge from Richard to successfully keep her asleep but not to stop the internal hemorrhage. He tapped the floating orb above him, illuminating her on the table. He walked to the medicine cabinet to the right of the table and opened the door. He picked up one of the tiny bottles of Richard’s healing concoctions from the shelf and flicked the stopper from the top with his thumb. He gently hooked his finger in the corner of her mouth and poured the runny liquid in before he let go. 

Nine agonizing seconds later, the color came back to her face, and she inhaled in a gasp before her regular breathing pattern returned. Faustus drew back the sheet and set the bottle down in front at her feet. Drawing her ankles together, he gently pushed her legs upward until they formed a diamond and lifted her skirt. The bleeding had stopped. He straightened her skirt and pulled the sheet back up to her waist.  

His relief allowed him to focus on the trap in her chest. He waved the remains of the top of her dress aside. Exposing an oval-shaped obsidian object filled with a luminescent green fluid. Jagged edges lined a hollowed-out grey eye at the top. The greygg that held him captive all this time was no bigger than his pinky nail. Eight spidery legs jutted out from the sides, buried into a surface layer of stony necrotic tissue surrounding her beating heart.  

Door Handled Knob

Scotty leaned forward and pulled the front door open, ushering Verd inside.  She hadn’t looked up from her feet and watched the sidewalk concrete change to the standard gray of office carpet as she crossed the threshold. Stuffing her rage down while focusing, as Faustus advised. Chairs lined the wall to her left. She allowed Scotty to steer her to sit in one. A receptionist’s window slid open in front of them, and a woman from the shoulders up appeared. Scotty stepped up and spoke with her in a hushed tone.

Verd scanned the waiting room from her seat. A closed door that presumably led to the office behind the window was just to the right of it.  Two more closed doors faced each other on either side of the waiting room. As she sat there pondering what she might use to draw blood with, her stomach cramped, and she winced. 

The pain increased rapidly,  and she bit her lip to keep from audibly whining. Staring at her folded hands in her lap, she focused on breathing through the oncoming muscle spasm that ripped through her. Sweat beaded her hairline from the effort it took to keep quiet. Closing her eyes, she rested the crown of her head against the wall behind her, “Faustus, I ain’t feelin’ great. I ain’t sure I can outrun Scotty from any of the door’s that’re in here, and I don’t see nothin’ sharp, ” she thought.

“You’re right. None of these are the doors to use,” Faustus replied. He heard her inner struggle with the pain she was in. He had a macabre hunch she wasn’t going to need anything sharp. “Are you feeling nauseous?” he asked.

There wasn’t time to answer as the door to the right of the waiting room opened. A fellow dressed neatly in business attire stepped out. Addressing Birdie, he extended his hand in greeting, “Hello Mrs. Robbins, I am Mr. Harlow. I believe we’ve spoken on the phone.”  

Verd hadn’t felt nauseous until she rose from her seat. Mr. Harlow swam in her vision. She did her best to project a beaming smile onto her face to mask the pain emanating from below her belly button. A brief moment of panic clinched at her when Scotty’s hip brushed against her rump. She’d paused too long. Firmly squeezing Mr. Harlow’s warm grasp in return, she chose her words carefully, “Yes sir, thank you for seeing me.”  

Mr. Harlow stepped out of Verd’s way to allow her to cross into his office. The gray office carpet became tile as she stepped through the doorway. She didn’t look back as the sound of her heels tapping across the floor filled the office. Mr. Harlow turned to follow, pausing to ensure the door was shut.

Scotty had stepped forward to follow but was cut off by the closing door. Mr. Harlow looked up in puzzlement when he saw that the toe of  Scotty’s boot impeded the door’s progress. “Excuse me, sir, this is a private meeting. You’ll have to wait for Mrs. Robbins out there,” gesturing with his chin in the direction of the chairs in the waiting room. Scotty glowered as he removed his foot from the gap, and the door closed in his face. 

Verd sank into a chair off to the right side of a vintage roll-top desk. A short back stool on wheels stood in front of a workspace littered with papers. A golden letter opener lay nearest her with a sharp tip that glinted in the sun shining from behind her. 

At first, she thought it was her imagination when she turned to look for the sunshine’s source. A tiny black and white vertical aluminum sign spelled out the word “push” along the edge of the metal door frame. Verd leaned forward to examine the exterior door,  gritting her teeth through a crescendo of pain. The door’s handle was a long metal rod running the length across it.  The sidewalk she’d walked up was visible right outside. A single deadbolt with a twist lever was locked on the side next to her. 

A particularly sharp pain shot through her abdomen. She crossed her arms, hugging her sides to steady herself. Mr. Harlow perched on his stool, turned to her, and opened his mouth to speak when Verd loosened her tongue enough to say, “May I trouble you for a bottle of water?”

Mr. Harlow stood immediately, “Absolutely Mrs. Robbins, I will be right back, so sorry.” He quickened his steps as he reached the door. Upon opening, he revealed an empty waiting room before he closed the door behind him.

Using the door handle on her right and the ledge of the desk, she struggled to stand. Parting her thighs slightly to balance, something warm and moist slid down the inside of her thighs. Falling to the floor between her feet with a wet slap. A bead of sweat rolled down her forehead to the tip of her nose, dripping onto the floor as she looked down. Blood now ran in rivulets down the insides of her legs. Creating a puddle around a mass of bloody gelatinous tissue on the tile between her heels. 

Faustus shouted through her foggy brain, “Verd, you’re having a miscarriage, and blood loss will cause you to pass out soon. Draw the rune home with your blood! Hurry, little bird, trace it on the door before it's too late!”  

Verd gathered her will, stepped out of the heels, and then slipped on the slick floor. She clutched at the desk to steady herself as she bent to pick up one of the heels. Trying to steady her shaking hands to avoid spilling, she grabbed onto the exterior door handle. Leaning on the locked door, she dipped her fingers into the pooled blood in the toe. Raising scarlet fingertips to the surface, she made the first stroke before recognizing Scotty’s Bronco parked three spots down. His head turned in her direction, and their eyes met. The driver’s side door opened, and Verd’s heart began to race.  

“Finish the rune, little bird. That is the last time you will see Scotty’s face. I promise,” Faustus crooned. 

Verd dipped her fingers and drew the last stroke, letting the heel drop at her feet. The edges of the rune brightened until the drawn strokes illuminated with a neon pink glow, and the latch clicked open. The door swung willingly outward, and she stumbled across a dark threshold. Her bare feet met the scratchy fibers of a doormat, and a light came on from above. Before her, a grand mahogany door carved with an intricate tree design stood with a bright gold handle trimmed in a forest green frame. Her bloody fingers closed around the handle, depressing the latch at the top.

The Parking Lot

Unfiltered sunshine blinded her as the jarring sound of the driver’s side door slamming shut vibrated through her skull. Through her blurry vision, she caught movement at the front of the Bronco. Then the elbow rest she was leaning on disappeared. Verd gasped in alarm as she began to fall toward a painted line on the asphalt below. Arms stopped her, and Scotty’s face swam into focus as he guided her out of the passenger seat to stand.

She heard the metal hinges protest close behind her as she tried to get her bearings. “Faustus, I’m not in the room anymore,” she thought, confused.

“I see that. Keep on the lookout for a door. I’m right here,” Faustus whispered back.

Scotty wrapped his arm around her waist and shepherded her forward toward the business plaza in front of them.  In the reflection of the glass ahead, she saw a lady in a lavender sundress wearing a matching shade of heels. A breeze rustled the skirt of the dress she wore. The hem brushed against Verd’s calves, and cool air caressed her bare bottom. In that instant, she knew that Scotty had dressed her while unconscious. The desire to knee him in the nuts was palpable.