How do you talk to a monster that always hated you?
That was exactly the kind of question on my mind, at that moment. I was not happy that she was talking using Voluptia's body. A small chill rose in my spine and my mouth got dry. The idea of having such a meeting with Grotheske face to face was hard to swallow.
And that situation was a lot worse because the doctor was there with me in the room.
He was very confused. I realized it was time for some privacy between me and my "girl".
I asked the doctor to go out of the room for a moment. He protested, but did as I asked him to do. I also asked him to close the door behind him.
It was only the two of us now, or three if you counted that Vol could see what was happening.
I could not reach her mind. As if she blocked me on purpose to not bother my talk with her other self.
I could never find out what made Grotheske hate me above all other beings. But, that was how I felt around her.
Not that she had the opportunity to meet a lot of other creatures before. And in the few moments that she got free, it was never for enought time so that she could know them better.
Still, I could feel that she had a grudge against me.
It could be because of Vol's sentiments for me: a desire to make her counterpart suffer by hurting me instead. Or, it could be because she hated being controlled by me all the times with the amulet.
Grotheske always showed this deep hatred over me: the violent kind of hate.
Until that morning in the hospital, Grotheske had been to me only a monster. Every time, since the first time, that she took over Voluptia's body she acted vile, selfish and violent.
I knew that she was also the creation of the amulet. Before having her personality split, Voluptia had always been calm and very kind.. She never wanted to harm anyone.
With that thought in my mind, I could not help, but get carried down memory lane. I remembered the day that Voluptia and I met, for the first time:
It happened in my last year in high school. A few days before my graduation.
Only a few weeks before that day, I turned fifteen. I was felling that so desired sense of liberty that you feel when you are ending a cycle of your life. I was a fifteen-year-old rich boy, with only a few friends. Most of the people of my age thought that I was a bit weird. And they were not wrong. If you can see things that no one else can ,you end up being like that. They considered me so odd that no one bothered me. Not even the bullies. Those, in fact, avoided me in fear.
At the time, the only thing that was on my mind, instead of girls, was to continue my studies and join the Police Academy.
I had this friend that was a CSI technician and the Physics teacher in my school, and I loved his work.
I always had the ability to see details, that most people ignore. That is why I joined him in some investigations. Only those that were not too disturbing, according to the rules of the Police Academy, for my age.
My father was against it. Yet, he loved me like I was his own blood and he wanted me to be happy. So, he offered a valuable donation to the Academy which granted me the status of a junior technician. And how I loved to dive into the scenes. To use the equipment of his laboratory. I loved to help my teacher find the small details, and even reconstruct the scene based only in the pieces of evidence.
My last class had ended, and I was now heading to the nearest park. I liked to practice a little jogging before the sun went down, three times a week.
It was past six pm. A late afternoon, but, since it was late spring, in my country, we were using the summer time. Our clocks had been adjusted up in one hour. So, there would be plenty of light in the sky for a few hours, yet.
I passed by some people that were walking up or down the street. Some of them alone; while another one were talking to the person walking by their side.
After fwo blocks down the street, I arrived at the bus stop that where I used to wait for my bus.
The bus stop was full of people. Everybody waiting their buses. There was no place to sit anymore. Many people were standing or resting the weigh of their bodies in the pillars that held the place. Once in a while, one of the persons gave an occasional look down the street, to see if their bus was finally arriving to the stop.
Everything was very normal.
I saw my reflection in one of the glass panels, used for advertising. My hair was starting to grow up, just like I wanted. I had decided to change the way I look and let my hair grow shoulder length. I have a straight dark blue hair. When I was young, the school didn't allow me to have it grow. I had to use it very short and tide. So, I was always keep it short and well combed. But, I got tired of the dress code that the Catholic church, that my father sent me, imposed to their students. I wanted to have a more rebel look; since I was not a kid anymore. And by my own standards it was my right to do it.
I was wearing the school's uniform. The stripes that held my backpack in place were wrinkling the fabric of my shirt.
However, I did not stop and I passed straight by those people in there. I didn't want to go home yet. I decided to walk to the Ibirapuera Park. And that was almost twelve blocks, down that same street, away from where my school was located. But, since I was about to do some laps in one of the inner tracks of the park: that walk would be a very good exercise. It would be enough to warm me, before starting to run. Without the need of doing all the exercises to warm the muscles.
When I was passing in front of a very big and old blue house, I heard a loud scream. It was a girl's voice and she sounded terrified. The sound was coming from the old house. The gate and the front door were, strangely, open. To my surprise, no one else was hearing it. I looked around and everyone was behaving very normal. No one was listening to that cry of despair. That could only mean that It was not a natural cry.
But I could not ignore it, the girl sounded in fear and crying. It was a cry of despair. I rushed through the open door. Without thinking clearly, I dropped my backpack on the floor. And climbed up the steps that lead to the second floor of the house at full speed. My heart was racing, but I did not stop.
The screams became louder, as I got close to one of the rooms. There I could see a dim light coming out of one half-opened door.
I moved towards that big door and entered a huge bedroom.
There was a large bed with a man laid down with an empty expression in his face, and he was fully dressed. That man was not moving or giving any sign of life: he was definitely dead.
Then, I saw a man in a red coat that was standing in front of the crying girl. He was holding a metal dagger in his right hand. The girl was cornered by him and crouching against the wall. She was trying to protect her face with her arms. That girl was naked and she was trying to cover her body with her own black and red wings.
I realized that the man he was about to strike her without any consideration by her cry.
He raised his hand to strike a blow.
Without pausing, I moved and grabbed the arm of the man, that was holding the knife, with both my hands. Then, I used the full weight of my body to break his balance and make him fall behind.
As he hit the floor the pain must have made he lose the grip of the dagger, and it dropped from his hand. I quickly kicked it under the bed. And I stepped in the man's hand, making full pressure.
The man looked at me, in pain, surprised and very angry. As I pressed my foot in his fingers, with more strength, he shouted and said:
"WHAT THE FUCK YOU ARE DOING, KlD?"
I looked to his face contorted in pain and replied:
"I will release my foot, but I need to listen to me. And yes", I said guessing what his next question would be," I can hear and I can see the girl. But, listen very close. You are wrong. She is not the one that did it. That poor girl is innocent."
I said that with my full conviction that the man was not evil, and that the girl was just in the wrong place and wrong time.
I removed my foot from his hand.
He rubbed it with the other hand, while looking straight to me. If he tried to do anything harsh; I would kick his face with my other foot.
"That is better. So you have the EYE, brat?" he sat in the floor. Thinking about his possibilities.
He was a lot bigger than me; but I was younger and faster, and he knew that.
"I don't know what the eye is supposed to be. I see things like her, since I was a little kid. She is a succubus, isn't she?"
"That you are, right. And that is why she needs to be destroyed. She is a demon: an evil creature"
The girl shivered and moaned in fear.
"Don't worry, dear. I won't let this man do any harm to you. I know that you are innocent.",
I said that in a calm and soft voice while moving between her and the man, that had lifted his huge body from the floor.
"Are you two in this together? How do you know all that?"
"I never saw you or her until now. I suppose that you must be some kind of priest or exorcist. I' m not really sure about that. I repeat, she didn't kill the man in the bed. That, I am sure."
"You better be right, young boy. If you never saw us before, how can you be so sure about that?"
That was the hint that I was looking for:
"Let's start from the first thing that I saw, when I entered this room. That man is fully dressed. Look. Even his tie is not loosened. Would you summon a succubus to have pleasure with her, dressed like that? His expression is not one of pleasure. A succubus would drain his sexual energy and make him die in an orgasm. Is that what you see, when you look to that pathetic expression in his face? Also, would you lay down to summon a supernatural sex partner, wearing your shoes and socks in bed? With your shoelaces tied like that?"
That was enough to get attract his attention. So, I continued to explain my other deductions:
"Well, you can see in that ashtray full of ashes and burnt paper that she is a succubus and she was summoned. One of the papers did not fully burn, and it is marked with a T and a H, together. The red candle, by the side of the ashtray, makes me tell you with absolute certainty that it was written: "Daughter of Lilith". So, all those papers were meant to draw a succubus to this room. That would explain how this girl was summoned here. But she was not summoned by the victim. Someone wanted you to think that a succubus killed that man." I was pointing to the ashtray over the small table to the left side of the bed.
The man sat in the bed by the side of the corpse and got a pipe from one of his pockets. As he was lighting it, he looked to me and to her and said:
"You know quite a lot about those creatures and the rites to call them, young lad. How can I believe that you were not the one that called her and killed him to trick me?"
"My backpack is in the main entrance, I just got out of my school. I was passing here, when I heard her cries in fear. You can easily check it. With my friends, my teacher; even with my father if you want. I am telling you the truth"
The pipe had a calm effect on him:
"You impressed me, kid. And that is not an easy thing to do to old Ambrosius. Still, you are too calm to be in a room with a corpse and a demon."
"I work in the morgue with a friend of mine. I am learning to be a CSI investigator. That is not the first body that I saw. I m quite used to them. I saw a lot of bodies before. Many of them were in a state of decomposition or mutilation that was a lot worse than this one."
That seemed to have hit the spot, because he lowered his guard towards me.
I took advantage of that and moved closer to the girl and I held her in a tight and warm embrace.
"Hey, girl it is ok now," I told her in a very low and soft voice, "You can go back to your mother. The one that summoned you is not here anymore, dear."
"Will you let me go?", she raised her face with a suspicious look and asked, not believing in my words.
Man she was beautiful.
"Yes, dear, you were caught in the middle of a pretty bad mess. But, that was not your fault. You can go back to your place now. Everything will be fine."
"I...can...not.", she said almost moaning, "I am trapped in this room."
"What do you mean by that?", I looked to Ambrosius in search of an answer:
He scanned the room with his eyes, before answering me:
"She means that she was trapped here by a sigil. She can't go out of this room until we find that thing and remove it. That would explain why she didn't fly away, when I attacked her with the Athame."
"So, she is bound here. Of course, the killer wanted you to find her inside the room with the body. So, she could not leave. That makes perfect sense."
He moved to the door and smiled:
"Here, take a look at this part of the wood."
There was a weird symbol, that I never saw before, in my life. It was written in white chalk in the wood. We could not see it before, because the door opened into the room. So, the other side was covering it.
He wiped the sigil off, with the sleeve of his coat.
The girl smiled, and before we could say anything, she vanished in thin air. In the place that she was before, she left a hideous smell of rotten eggs and some black smoke.
"Sulphur, that is the residue of a teleportation. It smells pretty bad, hehehe.", said the man in the coat, "That takes care of our little friend. Now, what about us? You see, kid, I need to call the police and I would prefer that you do not be here, when they arrive. I would hate to answer their questions about it. So, have fun with your studies. And get the hell out of here. To be honest, I think you will be a hell of a CSI. But, that is a shame, you could use your EYE to do something really good. Of that, I am pretty sure."
He got a small card in his pocket, and offered it to me:
" And if you find any trouble, like this one, just give me a call. Here, take my card. You certainly will need it someday, because of that EYE of yours."
I got the card. I had a lot of questions to ask to that man. But, he was right. I needed to go out of that murder scene, before it attracted the attention of the police.
I read the card that he gave me:
Ambrosius D. Goldenberg
"Antiques and Oldies"
Since 1941
Curuzu St, 432
Phone: 445-2442
It was a beautiful beige card that had some kind of a crest carved in the paper. Indeed it was a very artistic calling card. I had the feeling that that was not the last time that we would see each other.
"Visit my shop someday", he said, "now get going. Your folks must be worried about you, already"
I gave him a handshake and went to the entrance, where I had left my backpack when I rushed up the stairs.
Definitely, I would not jog in the park anymore. My head was full of possibilities and questions. It was difficult to tame my own thoughts. Everything moving too fast, inside my mind, to process it. So, I went back to the bus stop and waited for my bus to go home.
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