Entwined in This Infinity

26. Snuff - Zander

“It’s okay, kid, it’s not scary. Might burn a little, but hey, them’s the breaks.”

You blink at the man that is looming over you and palming your shoulder over affectionately. “I am twenty-six,” you tell him.

“Well, goodie for you then. You’d look pretty convincing as a minor though.” He leers down at you, thumb rubbing your shoulder through your thin jacket. “Could make some money with that.”

His implication makes you uncomfortable, your eyebrows stitching together. “I don’t think so.”

He shrugs with one shoulder. “Your loss, bub.” He taps the tray in front of you, the white lines of powder contrasting against the smooth black polish. “But let’s get back to the matter at hand. All you gotta do is take this little tube, put it to your nostril, set it in front of a line, breathe in through your nose, and voila! For a first-timer, you should be high as a kite in a few minutes and stay that way for a good while.”

You shift under his hand. “I told you I didn’t want to do this. I don’t do drugs.”

“Sure you do.” Sweeping a hand at their surroundings, a shabby but respectable kitchen that is obviously taken care of, he pulls you closer in a half-hug that has you frowning in discomfort. “Plenty of people do drugs every day, pill-popping and all that shit. Those drugs that take care of your headaches or vitamin D or the demons in your head, they do the same thing this does. They make your life better, just a little more bearable. We all need that sometimes, don’t we?” His eyes are on you, smiling down at you knowingly.

The lines of powder are easier to look at than he is. When your gaze drops, he chuckles. “I understand. Your life is one shit storm after another, and all you want is for it to get better. Practically been depressed since you breathed your first breath, weren’t you, kid? I know the type.”

He presses a small tube into your hand, forcing your fingers to grasp it. “And you know the best part?”

It soon becomes plain he is waiting for your answer, which you supply with hesitance. “What is that?”

“This isn’t your everyday blow. This is the top-shelf stuff.” He traces the side of the tray, prideful. “The enchanted kind.”

You suck in a breath in surprise. “That is illegal,” you murmur, for a lack of any other reaction.

“Extremely. The government doesn’t like people using magic to get their jollies. They call it unlawful manipulation, but I think people gotta do what they gotta do. This right here? I guarantee you’ll feel better than you have in your entire life.”

You begin shaking.

“You do what you gotta do to survive, don’t ya, kid?”

The first line is so easy that you end up finishing off the second one before he can stop you.

The effect is instantaneous.

It’s heaven. Wrapped in a warm blanket at your grandmother’s. Strolling down a road that is black in the dark before dawn.

The man slaps you on the back, laughing. “Looks like I’ve got a new customer, eh?”

You look up at him and smile wider than you ever have, dopey and overjoyed. If you could think past the haze of happiness that blurs your senses, you would kiss him. He’s so nice. Giving you this gift. Bringing you into his home. His home is nice, too. Everything is ecstasy, better than anything you’ve ever had.

You don’t remember leaving or walking home, but you know you will remember returning to this blessed place.