Loreley, Episode 9: The Obsidian Knife

Loreley, Episode 9: The Obsidian Knife

Loreley, Episode 9: The Obsidian Knife

Previously…

Loreley took a bath. Claire did some wonky shit. Simon played the role of the voyeur.

Loreley, Episode 9: The Obsidian Knife

The beam of black light between the black orb and Claire’s now visible and squinting third eye intensifies. Claire starts to tremble and makes a sound as if she were being electrified.

Simon clutches the talisman in his coat pocket.

With a massive effort, Claire raises the wand towards heaven.

Simon takes the amulet pouch out of his pocket and points his pentagram ring at the point in the air where Claire is pointing the wand.

As the rays from their magickal weapons connect they both call on a solar deity in an ancient language, and the combined beam shoots into the sun, and very swiftly a spear of sunlight smashes the demonic orb back into the book, which starts hissing, crackling and smoking. It burst into flames and Simon quickly smothers the flame with his trench coat. Without a thought, he and Claire cross themselves and mutter an incantation of gratitude.

“Woo hoo! That was exciting,” Simon says.

Claire stares at him until he squirms.

“For you, maybe. For me, it was exhausting. Much like our relationship.”

“You know you still adore me,” he says.

She ignores him.

“Leave the book with me for a couple of weeks. There’s a transit happening that might provide a clue.”

“I don’t know how much time we have to crack this thing, but I’m not touching it, and I don’t want girly touching it again, for damn sure. I think the transit might be when we need to do the thing.”

“Hm. I think I’ll need to see those charts and files. Also. Girly. Girly? Really? I’d kick you so hard in the balls if you called me that.”

“Oh baby, I know you would. You remember that time in Paris with the -”

“Nipple torture weekend?”

“Who has the pinkest nipples?”

“For fuck’s sake.”

“Mm. They were tender for days,” He says nostalgically

“Well, glad those days are behind us. Listen, I saw something in there. Something grotesque and horrible. Something about your sidekick. I’m not sure, exactly, but somehow she’s not what she seems.”

“She seems like a spiritually gifted fourteen-year-old.”

“She isn’t what she seems, Simon. I hope you know what you’re doing this time.”

“Of course.”

“Of course.”

“Claire, I’m gonna need to take those papers with me, though.”

“Sure.”

Sleeping in Claire’s black satin covered king-sized bed, Simon dreams he’s in a long corridor, looking for something he can’t quite remember.

Suddenly he feels a searing pain in his back.

The point of view changes and he sees Loreley, dressed strangely in a black dress standing behind him with a massive chipped obsidian knife which she jerkily pulls out and then plunges violently back into his back.

“Oh fuck! Loreley! You dirty fucking backstabber!” Simon says, falling to his knees. “But why? What did I ever-”

“Oh shut up “Sempai”,” Loreley says “it’s better for everyone this way.”

Simon’s last flickering thought is ‘this dying thing really fucking sucks. Every freaking time.’

He wakes at dusk. Claire is sitting at her desk wearing a silk dressing gown comparing a couple of Simon’s old mimeographs.

He kisses her on the neck. She somehow silently communicates ‘not now’.

Without turning, she says “I had a suit delivered for you. I hope you weren’t attached to the filthy one I had burned. And your car is parked across the street.”

“My-”

“Your pocket watch is with your pen, notebook, and wallet on the nightstand.”

“Thanks. Coffee…”

Simon dresses in the new suit that seems to have materialized on the steamer trunk at the foot of Claire’s bed. It feels great and fits perfect. He marvels at Claire’s cunning and vaguely wonders what the price is going to be for all of her generosity.

In the living room, he finds Loreley, wearing makeup and one of Claire’s dresses, a gold medallion with a sigil engraved into it, and fishnets, reading one of Claire’s books on goddess evocation in different cultures. Loreley looks up from the book and gives him a look.

Simon scowls at her.

“What? Why you looking at me like that?”

“It’s probably nothing. Are those Claire’s clothes?”

“Yeah. You like it?”

“Listen, so we’re going to go soon.”

“What about the book?”

“We’re leaving it here”

“You really trust her?”

“Yes, Loreley. Yes, I actually do.” wearing makeup and one of Claire’s dresses, a gold medallion with a sigil engraved into it, and fishnets reading one of Claire’s books on goddess evocation in different cultures. Loreley looks up from the book and gives him a look.

Simon scowls at her.

“What? Why you looking at me like that?”

“It’s probably nothing. Are those Claire’s clothes?”

“Yeah. You like it?”

“Listen, so we’re going to go soon.”

“What about the book?”

“We’re leaving it here”

“You really trust her?”

“Yes, Loreley. Yes, I actually do.”


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Benjamin Beardsley

If you were blessed with the gift of being able to change human destiny with your words, what would your message be?

Actor, writer, educator

Latest posts by Benjamin Beardsley (see all)

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