Cursed [Book 1] ✔

Chapter 15.2: Need Some Help, but Not That Much

"We were in between," Rosalind rushed on, preventing me from pressing for details. "If you'd been in Heaven, there would have been no way I could have convinced you to return."

Hands on my hips, I asked, "Anything else you've omitted?"

She tilted her head. "Possibly?"

"Great."

At the end of that exchange, I should have requested a darn sword lesson.

The zombies had backed me into a corner, and I was sweatin' it literally and figuratively. Zombie-nun had slashed my other arm, but luckliy the cut was shallow. I cursed my lack of combative knowledge, and wished for the sword to sprout wings. Even in her ethereal state, it was like Rosalind could still read my mind, because she began to guide my flourishes. It was weird, like having my limbs strung up on wires. I didn't know where my body would go next, or what it would do, but Rosalind did.

Legs forward. Downward-horizontal slash. The two actions, seemingly simple, were much more complex, breaking open the abdomen of the zombie-priest. It fell backward, a spaghetti calzone split in half.

Spin and turn. Dodge a punch from zombie-nun. Spring up, arms swinging in an arc. With all of my non-hard work, the zombie-nun's head went flying off.

Suddenly, the invisible wires snapped. My limbs were mine again. I stood still, in shock of the death I'd just brought on by default. When able to speak, I was less than grateful for Rosalind's puppetry.

"That was...uncool."

Rosalind fully materialized, her hair and dress swiveling in such a way to display her annoyance. "How so?"

"Well, I needed help, but not that much."

She turned, and I'm sure it was to hide a roll of her eyes. "Not even a thank you, huh?"

"No, not when I'm starting to question why I'm back if you're going to do everything for me. First the sword, and now this." I gestured to the efficiently slain bodies, pointing in the direction of the head that had flown off into an unknown corner of the room.

Poor ol' Headless Helga and Spaghetti Stanley. I felt guilt at having ended their lives, as I had, after all, just killed a nun and a priest. Then, I reminded myself that they were already dead. I had fought monsters, creations of two other monsters.

Rosalind broke into my self-justifications. "Are you saying you want to find your own way?"

"Yes," I said.

Rosalind rested translucent hands on my shoulders. "Good." Her smile did nothing to quell my confusion.

"Wait." I trailed after her, wondering why she was floating away instead of popping herself somewhere else. "Was that some kind of test?"

We were back at the car, wind howling fiercely.

"Sort of. You know what needs doing, and that you need to do it alone. I wouldn't have been able to help you against Lillith and Samael, anyway. I'm done here."

Done here. She made it sound like we had just finished a Quidditch Match, which was actually vastly preferable to the tasks that lay ahead. Her dismissal hurt, but I didn't cry, much.

"When will I see you again?"

"Sooner than you think."

Because she still had an inner window into my thoughts, Rosalind added to the Harry Potterness of the moment by dissipating.

"I'll miss ya, sis," I whispered into the wind.

* * * * *

Having acquired a new body and a new life had made everything a discovery. Like how to walk  gracefully with long legs. Or how to hold up my head on a neck that felt way too long for my body. Rosalind had been my guide, my Jiminy Cricket.

What would I do without her? As I sat in the stolen car, I contemplated my next solo move. Finding Lillith and Samael were first and foremost on my to-do list. Last time, I had closed my eyes and concentrated.

I repeated my actions, reaching out telepathically for the right line.

Lillith. Lillith. Lillith. I murmured her name over and over. I didn't know it yet, but she was the strongest connection I had and would ever have simply because we had both inhabited the same house of flesh and bone. That was part of the reason I was able to track her physical location, even based on the limited pictures about her that were projected into my head. I was drawn to what had once been mine; therefore, I would be able to find her anywhere.

This time, the thread I caught was like a memory: A pregnant woman in labor, pushing with all her might. In fact, the woman was me. I almost released the thread, until the lightbulb moment occurred. 

Dur. Taht's not your body anymore. I'd been looking at myself, the old brunette self and dismissing the scene. Plus, the surrounding environment, along with the creature emerging from my womb, informed me that I was indeed witnessing the future. Where was Samael? His was a more difficult thread to grasp, but the image shifted to include him watching the birth. Once more, the infant began to change, elongating until it had formed into an adult with translucent, waxy skin. All of the tissue, muscles, and veins were visible beneath the thin layer of epidermis. A blinding shine emanated from inside the body, and suddenly the skin hardened.

"Constanople!" Lillith cried out, a joyful mother reveling in her creation.

The man smiled through the afterbirth smeared on his face. His mirror eyes were but one of the odd things about him.

My hold on the thread was fading.

Samael faced my line of vision, shattering my anonymity. He saw me, or felt my presence. Either way, his subsequent incantation washed over me like cold water.

"Bleka koik dieme complas."

I dropped the thread, afraid to see anymore.

Samael had spoken in a deep multi-toned voice that hinted at his power. I'd magically understood every word of the ancient message, translating to there was no hope. He could have meant it in a personal way, such as, there was no hope for me. He could have meant no hope in a more general sense, like no hope anywhere for anyone on the Earth. 

Somehow, I thought he meant the message for me.