∞ Jo ∞

I should have a hangover. I should feel awful. I at least should feel an ache, or at least ill. But I’m not. I feel fine. Well, that’s not exactly true, but to my mom and my dad I feel fine, and just had a long night.

My dreams were crazy though. I dreamt of Colin, but that’s no surprise. What was strange was that his voice was not his own, it was a stranger’s, and he told me all sorts of naughty and crazy things, mostly what he would do to me and how much I would like it.

Now I am sitting at the kitchen table eating lunch for breakfast. It’s past noon, but my parents don’t judge me. Mostly because they think that this was just one single night and not every other weekend for me. If they only knew. I’ve changed a lot after starting my own life.

I don’t tell them about Colin either, it’s them who start talking about him at lunch. I just got back home two days ago, and all we did was talk about my brothers.

 “I’m sure you heard it from your friends already, but Colin Thompson is back home,” my dad starts, he who is usually not the one talking rumors.

“He’s renovating the house to sell it,” my mom adds, and both act as if they are just talking about the weather.

I can’t help but become suspicious.

“Yes, of course, they’ve told me,” I answer in the same manner. “Colin wants to sell it so that Jax can pay off his student loans.”

“It’s such a beautiful house, and right next door,” my dad continues, and I instantly know what this is really about.

“You want me to move in next door?” I ask them. “And there I thought you would expect me to keep living in my room.” I’m teasing them by pretending to be disappointed.

For a second there they buy my act, but then we all start laughing, although I know they are dead serious about it. My father is the manager of the local bank and is earning enough to live debt free and support all of his three children. Not enough to avoid student loans but all three of us managed to win scholarships.

“It depends on how much he’ll ask for the house, but I think we could pay the down payment for you as a gift for when you graduate,” my dad offers, and I feel my face flushing.

“That’s very generous of you dad, mom. Don’t be mad or disappointed, but I don’t know if I really want to live that close to you guys,” I respond after some consideration.

“Think about it, sweetie,” my mom reaches out and pats my hand. “And if you really don’t want that particular house, we will still support you when you find a place you want to live in.”

I beam at my mother and nod: “I will, promise.”

Living at Colin’s. It’s not that I haven’t thought about this, but in my visions of the future, I was living in that house with him, not alone. I can understand why Colin wants to sell it. He never told me of course, but I eavesdropped on him and Theo when I was younger because I had such a crush on him. That’s when I learned that his father was abusive and that was where Colin got most of his bruises from. He picked fights at school to cover them up. I never said a word about what I heard, and my big brother didn’t either because Colin made him promise. If either of us would have talked, maybe his parents would still be alive. Colin might have never enlisted to pay for his mother’s medical bills or his brother’s future. You can’t change the past, I know that. And probably I would have never had mind-blowing sex with him last night since he would have married some cheerleader and would be a world-famous athlete.

Colin couldn’t go after what he wanted. I did. I got lucky. Supportive parents with enough money, and a childhood other kids dream of. Sometimes I forget to appreciate how easy my life is compared to others. But that doesn’t mean I should stop going after what I want now. Only because I’ve got reminded of it just now. Or because what I want is broken. That’s not the reason I want it. It never was. Back then I didn’t have a crush on Colin because he was the star of the school, or because he was cocky, or the best looking. I always felt butterflies seeing him because he was the strongest person I knew. He ignored his pain to make sure his team won. He was a jock so no one would suspect what happened back at home. He was fiercely loyal to his little brother and Theo. He was a beacon despite the darkness.

Colin still is. I can see that.

I can only imagine what happened to him abroad. He lost his comrades, his family. But he was never a person who was good at being alone. And now he is.

“Why are you sad?” Mom’s question catches me off guard, as I completely forgot my parents were sitting at the table with me.

“Colin,” I respond honestly. “What he must have gone through over there.”

My mother squeezes my hand and says nothing as she always does when she thinks it’s not her place.

“He knew what he signed up for,” I hear my father say, grumblingly. “He’s pulling himself together just fine. Don’t worry about him.”

I’m looking up at my dad and am speechless for a moment, trying to make sense of his words.

“Like he pulled himself together after watching his dad beating up his mom every day?” I blurt out, not knowing why I am so pissed off at my dad, whose face turns pale after what I just told him. “You lived next door and noticed nothing. Why do you think you know perfectly fine how Colin’s feeling now?”

I get up and put my stuff in the dishwasher before I head for the stairs, but I am not going to my room so that I can pout angrily. No, I’m going there to get changed into something suitable for the occasion, as I am wearing my comfort clothes.

A part of me is telling me that I should think this through since my parents will become suspicious and I will end up embarrassing myself returning after a few minutes. But what else am I going to do?

I need fresh air. I don’t have to walk all the way over to Colin’s just to stand in front of a closed door. What the hell am I thinking right now? What if Colin wants me to show up and fight for him?

Jesus, Joana Margret Mallory, it was just one damn night, and he made it perfectly clear that it was exactly that and nothing else.

While my mind battles with itself my body follows my plan and takes me downstairs so that I can put my sneakers on. I’m not wearing any makeup, and my hair is a mess, but since Colin pointed out that it was just sex this is how I shove it back into his face.

“Where are you going?” It’s my mom who asks, sounding upset.

“Checking on Colin and inviting him to dinner,” I answer spontaneously. “So Dad can congratulate him on how well he is pulling himself together.” I mock, looking at my dad who is equally angry and ashamed, while I tie my shoes.

“Joana!” He scolds me and then sighs, resigned. “I guess we should have invited him over a long time ago. For dinner, not for congratulating him. You are right, pup” – he uses my nickname from when I was a kid – “I don’t know a bit about what he went through, and someone with his past should not be on his own all the time.”

A part of me wants to hug my father, but I nod at him with a small smile, because I might dare not to go over to Colin’s at all if I do that. Dad’s hugs are the best after all.

I know that I get that habit from him; speaking before thinking. Lucky for me, I have my mother’s way of getting myself out of awkward situations I find myself in because of my loose mouth.

Although I feel like running – which is silly and childish – I pace myself and only jump down from the porch leaping over the few steps.

The sun is standing high in the sky flooding the grassland around us with warmth, creating that smell you only have when it’s summer. As I walk the path I took last night, I have this strange déjavu feeling just inverted. All that was dark is bright now. And vice versa. Despite everything being absolutely normal I have this horrible foreboding making me hesitate to go any further. It is irrational. As if I see a dark aura around the house I am heading to. Everything is silent and drowned. This feels like a dream or a nightmare rather than real.

I shake my head, and the strange sensation is gone. I should probably stay away from booze for a while. It’s making me feel dizzy since I haven’t slept as much as I should have after last night.

My resolve seemingly weakens with every step I take towards Colin’s house, which is odd, so I ignore it. Still, I can’t quite shake off the strangeness around me. Mostly because I have goosebumps despite the sun shining onto me.

Am I still asleep in my bed dreaming all of this? It wouldn’t be the first time I was having such vivid dreams that for a second I believed them to be true. Yet, few of them were as real as this one.

Eventually, I find myself standing at the front door of Colin’s house, looking for a bell but there is none, apart from a keypad with a red, blinking LED, which means that the place is locked and secured.

I still knock on the door, but there’s no answer.

It’s strange. Colin must be at home because his truck is still standing in the driveway.

So, I knock again. And once more.

“Colin?!” I shout out for him, which is so beyond stupid of me; of course, he won’t open the door for me, he made himself perfectly clear last night.

Still, I look around for a sign that he might have left last night, and I happen to see my parent’s house in the distance. Is that my mom watching me? Is she actually waving? Is she serious?

“Colin!” I speak loudly, and the words come from the top of my head. “Please, let me in, my mother is seeing this, and it’s embarrassing enough as it is!”

Did I hear something? Or is my mind just making things up? I try to get a glimpse of the inside through the double door, and the place seems oddly empty and vacated. He can’t be gone.

“Joana?” I hear my full first name, and I’m not entirely sure whether it is a question, disbelief, or a cry for help since it is so low, it’s almost inaudible.

It could be my own mind playing games with me because I want him to be there.

“Colin? Are you alright?” I ask, feeling even more like an idiot because he might not be there and I am talking to a figment of my own imagination.

Nothing.

“How do I get in there?” I question loudly.

“Joana.”

Did I hear that right?

Why would Colin call me like this? It’s odd. But I can’t help but worry.

Again, I get this strange vibe that makes the hair on my neck stand up straight. Something must have happened to Colin.

But why call me that?

My desperate glance falls on the keypad. Joana. I don’t think twice but start pressing: five, triple six, two, double six, two. With a double beep, the red light switches to green and I hear how the door unlocks. Hesitantly, I push the front door open and step inside the house, realizing that I have never been here before. Carefully, I pull the door back into its lock and stare at the keypad on the inside, helplessly. With a shrug, I just push the same buttons, and the green light turns red again.

So, where is Colin right now?

“Where are you?” I ask the empty space, and my voice is ridiculously weak; this is stupid.

“Downstairs.” The answer is clear as a bell.

Still, it makes me shudder to hear Colin’s voice in a strangely distorted way. It sounds hoarse, no, ragged, and different. He seems somewhat hurt and yet not. Nonetheless, Colin’s voice is coming from the cellar and the door leading downstairs is just within reach, beneath the staircase.

This is so much like a horror movie, but I still step towards the closed door carefully, reach out for the knob and twist it to pull it open slowly. I find myself standing in front of a gaping hole of darkness. Doubt is suddenly gnawing at my heart.

Did I really hear him?

I stare into the blackness, and after a few erratic heartbeats, I believe to perceive a dim, warm-ish light flickering weakly. Shaking my head at myself, I throw my screaming instincts aside and start to decent into the cellar.

Of course, I expect the steps to creak, but they are utterly silent. Probably, because Colin fixed them already. After all, he wants to sell the place, right?

As I reach the lower steps, the warm light becomes stronger, and I turn to look for the origin. It’s coming from under a closed door to my right, and it’s flaming again. Fire. Candles?

Now, I feel drawn to it like a moth. A part of me wants to ask for Colin again, but I am catching my breath instead, holding it.

Stepping onto the floor of the cellar, I turn to face the door from which the light emanates and hesitate, but I don’t know why. Do I want to open the door and see what’s behind it? What is Colin doing down here anyway? Isn’t this alarming?

Letting out the held breath, I pull myself together and walk up to that door, reach out, turn the knob and just push it open forcefully. I expect the door to crash into the wall next to it, but it doesn’t instead a room opens to me that is lit with a dozen large, half-way burnt down, black candles. It takes me a while to realize that Colin is lying right in front of me in the middle of what first seems to be a massive pentagram with a circle around it but that’s only because I am distracted by the blood on Colin’s chest.

“What the..?” The words break free louder than I intended, and my body moves on its own.

I rush towards Colin and almost fall to my knees. As I touch his shoulder, I flinch, as his skin is burning hot. Still, I move him on his back, noticing that his eyes are closed. He seems to be unconscious, so how did he hear and call out for me?

The moment Colin is on his back something falls from one of his hands clattering to the ground. It is my instinct that makes me grab the item and look at it: It’s old, antique, silver, stunningly beautiful, and a dagger with a blood-stained blade.

I don’t have to think twice to realize that Colin did this to himself. One look at the drying blood tells me that it has to have happened last night.

“Why would you do that to yourself?” I ask him, stunned with disbelief, not expecting a response from him. “What the hell did happen to you?”

Colin’s chest moves beneath my hand. His breath is even and deep. At least something.

“I’ll be right back,” I tell him and get back on my feet, watching him.

He seems to be out cold, which makes me tremble. This just doesn’t make any sense. Did he call for me while dreaming? I try to find an explanation for what I see but then again it is not important right now. I’ve got to tend to his wounds before they get infected. I turn away and head for the kitchen to get a towel and some hot water.

“No.”

Colin’s off voice makes me freeze instantly, and my hand clenches around the handrail of the stairs. He was fast asleep. Did I hear it just in my mind?

Again?

I turn my head to face Colin and watch him slowly sitting up. He doesn’t distort his face like he should regarding the carvings on his chest; only deeper cuts would create that amount of blood.

That’s when I realize I’m still holding the dagger.

I want to ask him what he means when he speaks again: “Do not leave.”

This is a strange request, and it makes me frown.

“You’re hurt,” I point out the obvious. “I’m just getting something to make sure that’s not infected.” I gesture at whatever that is on his chest.

Colin looks down with an expression that is eerily familiar with surprise. He even touches it and then grumbles something unintelligible, before his scrutiny returns to me.

“It is fine,” he explains and gets up slowly.

This time he doesn’t seem to have forgotten the pain his injury causes, and my instinct makes me hasten towards him to give him support. I put my free hand around his torso, and he leans upon my shoulders but briefly.

“Please, put that away,” Colin says softly.

I know he means that silver dagger. As I move to get him and the dagger towards a cupboard close to us, he stays right where he is, making it impossible for me to reach that piece of furniture.

“I can’t if you don’t move,” I tell him and he sighs in frustration.

“Toss it,” he orders me, and the tone of his voice is strange, unnerved, as if it is stupid of me to not have thought of that in the first place.

I look at the dagger in my hand.

“It might get damaged,” I respond, and Colin sighs again, resigned.

Before I can react or realize what is happening, he is standing without my support and has my jaw in the tight grip of his hand and the wrist of the hand that holds the dagger in an even more painful hold.

“Drop it,” Colin orders again, and his voice is far lower than it should be.

I stare at his eyes in surprise and obey instantly, but his iron grasp on my wrist would have forced me to follow his order soon anyway. The blade falls to the ground noisily, the sound drowning my ears, as my entire body tenses from the shock of Colin’s eyes turning pitch black. They are two gaping, bottomless pools of darkness. All hairs on my body are standing straight up, waves of goosebumps roll over my skin, and there is a hole in my stomach as if I was just tossed out of a plane.

“Hello Joana,” Colin grins at me, and his voice is still that low-pitched I can feel it resonating in my bones. “I believe I should introduce myself to you, as we already had sex once. I am Rabisu. Pleased to meet you, Joana Mallory.”

 

∞ Rabisu ∞

Joana’s eyes move quickly as her mind tries to piece the whole situation together as fast as possible.

I know that I had the advantage of the surprise regarding the dagger, and before she realizes that it could be used as a weapon against me, I kick it out of the room.

Instinctively, her free hand is clawing into mine holding her jaw, forcing her to look at me. I barely feel it. To distract her from the weapon I step closer into her personal space. I can sense her holding panic at bay. She still has not processed that she might know the body holding her captive but not the one using it.

“Rabisu,” Joana repeats and hearing her speak my name makes me shudder languorously.

I let go of her wrist and brush my hand along her side to her lower back pressing her hips against my body, which reacts instantly to her. Her skin is chillier than mine, as human skin usually is, but I do not care because her body responds to mine as well.

“That is me,” I say, smirking at the innuendo.

“You,” she gives back, and I wonder if she still is trying to understand what is happening right now, or if I broke her. “You are in Colin’s body? Or is your body looking like him?” She asks me just when I have finished my thought.

Smart girl.

I grin at her and pull her closer, but before I can answer her, her knee lands in my groin.

Colin’s body acts instinctively although I barely feel anything, and Joana manages to evade my grasp. I humor her, as she doesn’t leave the room and stays in my reach.

“The fuck, Colin?!” She yells at me, angrily. “What the hell is wrong with you. This isn’t funny.”

Joana gestures at the entire room and then at the sigil that seals me into Colin’s body. Regarding that thing, I agree with her.

“Come here,” I tell her.

Her response is crossing her arms in front of her chest, shaking her head.

“Is that even real?” She points at the crusted blood on my chest. “How did you know I was coming over? Did you wait for me to turn up again?”

This is so typical for humans not going with the obvious because it would mean that there are more powerful and more dangerous entities in the world than them.

I straighten up again and slowly shake my head, not grinning this time, leaving Colin’s facial features devoid of any emotion. It silences Joana and makes her drop her arms to her sides, frowning. After a moment of staring, she is looking around and notices the rune sigil on the floor still dimly glowing. The warm light of the candles almost makes that glow vanish. Joana seems to see it nonetheless.

“Come here,” I repeat myself, calmly, not moving.

I stand in the center of the large sigil and stay clear of the different lines. They will hurt me when I cross them despite me staying within the outer circle, which represents the wall of my prison. The interior lines are to remind me I am held captive and to weaken me.

Right now, I am still strong, fueled by Joana’s and Colin’s actions of last night, but the seal he has put on his body has weakened me just enough. I cannot fight the magic binding me to this place. And the longer the mystical powers have, to settle, the slimmer my chance to break them.

The easiest way out stands right in front of me. All Joana needs to do is remove some of the mosaic tiles, destroy them, so that I can break the rest. I need to convince her to help me. Or force her to.

“Come here,” I growl as she still does not move. “Or I will make you.”