NOIR-vember_ FALLEN WORLD, BROKEN SOULS

 

FALLENWORLD, BROKEN SOULS

“If the living are haunted by thedead, then the dead are haunted by their own mistakes.”

 – Helen Mayfair

 

I frowned. “I am unfamiliar withthis street, Sister Ameal.”

She grimaced, “That is becausethis street can be found only at night. It is Rue la Mort … where Meilori’sis located.”

“Is that where we are going?”

Mrs. Adams shook her head. “No,McCord has closed his jazz club for the duration of this world conflict.”

I frowned again. “The movie andradio mogul?”

She huffed, “That One is manythings, chief of which is hated by me.”

Sister Ameal smiled thin as apaper cut. “Then, he must be doing something right.”

“Not in my ledger.”

Sister Ameal raised an eyebrow. “Youraccounts are notoriously … in the red.”

Mrs. Adams arched her back. “Howlow brow of you.”

The nun retorted, “Speaks a lowbrow herself.”

“What nonsense are you spewing?”

“One has to be a lowbrow, a bitof a murderer, to be a politician, 

ready and willing to see people sacrificed,slaughtered, for the sake of an idea, whether a good one or a bad one.”

“Coming from a former paidassassin that is rich.”

“True, I killed for a price, but Inever deluded myself or others into thinking I was doing it for the ‘greatergood’ … which is merely a synonym for self-interest.”

I shushed both of them. “Hush. Youare ruining a perfectly good girls’ night out.”

Mrs. Adams curled her perfect lips.

 “When I could rightly have been called a ‘girl,’ the term had not yet beencoined.”

Sister Ameal bristled. 

“We arenot out for an evening’s entertainment, Seraph. We are in search of anabomination to put it down.”

Madame President growled, “Overmy undead body.”

“That could happily be arranged.”

In an attempt to forestall violence, I asked, “So where are you taking us,Sister?”

“Club Oblivion.”

Adams shook her head. “I havenever heard of it.”

“It just opened up. MyNightcrawlers recently told me of it.”

“Nightcrawlers?” Adams made aface.

“Sherlock Holmes had his BakerStreet Irregulars. I have my French Quarter Nightcrawlers.”

I sighed, my hopes of a colorfulouting dashed. 

“Will the customers of this club tell us the whereabouts of thismissing child-revenant, do you think?”

Sister Ameal snorted, 

“In Hell,you would be foolish to count on people displaying high standards of honesty.The same goes for those destined for that locale.”

It was my turn to make a face.

“If there are damned souls inHell, it is because men blind themselves. 

Perhaps, there are a few souls inthis club who have, as yet, not mutilated their better selves.”

“Then, they would not be in such a place as to where we are headed, Seraph."

And with those words we werestanding in front of the lace-iron gates of the very place. 

Gleaming gold letterswere etched over the fanged gate:

“Damned be the dark ends of theearth where old horrors live again.”

"Charming," said Mrs. Adams in a droll, making of the word three syllables.

I looked at the stone stepsleading down and past the open gate. I grimaced.

‘Here the earth devours itself,’ I toldmyself. 

I didn't imagine a fissure at the bottom of the steps, I imagined amouth. I deluded myself.

There were many mouths.

I started to go down the stairswhen, knowing better than to physically touch one such as I, Sister Ameal heldup a single palm.

“Hold.”

I stopped and turned to her asshe whispered, “You do not think of yourself as arrogant and naïve, but youare.”

“Do tell me.”

As Mrs. Adams watched bemused,the nun did just that.

 “Your nature made you faster, stronger, smarter than anyassailant enemies of your step-father set against you.”

I nodded. “I have taken no pleasurein taking those lives.”

Sister Ameal shook her head. 

“Suchwill not be the case with those you face down there. They take much pleasure inthe agonies they inflict upon their victims.”

She breathed in deep, though I knewthat, like the revenant beside me, she did not need to breathe to live … forshe only appeared human.

“They have had centuries toperfect forms of martial arts I have, as yet, even had an opportunity to instructyou.”

She glared at the revenant queen. 

“This one had a twofold plan in approaching you tonight: one you know – to retrieveher pet. The other was to lure you here to your death, removing a threat to herself.”

I nodded. “I deduced as much.”

Adams frowned, “Then, why did youcome?”

I sighed, “All around me see whatthey expect to see, while I see ... so many things.”

I reached out to touch her armbut pulled back as she flinched. “I see your soul.”

“Wh-What?”

“It still exists deep within you,though calling it ‘alive’ would not be quite true. I see it quivering, dew dropsof blood glistening along the many mortal wounds you have inflicted upon it.”

I cocked my head towards Sister Ameal. 

“I will not reveal the existential loneliness of a cosmic creature that I viewwithin you to our common enemy here.”

Her thin lips curled. “I believeyou just have.”

I shook my head.

 “She knows thetip of the iceberg but not the majestic immensity that lies beneath.”

I drew myself up slowly. 

“As formyself, I am not the naïve doe you imagine me to be. I am … Other.”

I fought a shiver. 

“None like meno matter what that Scaramouche Darael believes. 

No other of my kind wascreated as a babe to grow as mortals grow in stature and awareness … away fromthe glories of the Gateless Realm.”

I lost to the shiver. 
“Even now, Igrow. I now hear the death-bleats from the tortured soul waiting at the foot ofthese steps. It protests what its diseased host intends upon inflicting on me.”

I prepared myself to race downthese cracked steps when I remembered the kind voice of Richard, who unknowinglyspoke healing balm to my darkness. 

He had thought me but merely depressed, notcontemplating suicide those day past.

“There are flecks of gold in thegravel of each moment, Miss Mayfair, if you but look close enough. 

Take thatmoment, be in that moment, live in that moment … not beyond thatmoment. It won’t be much, mind you. 

But it may prove enough to go onto the nextone with a lighter step.”

With a restored sense of peace, Istarted down the steps. Mrs. Adams placed a restraining hand on my arm.

“Do not. That travesty I wouldensnare again is not worth it. I … am not worth it.”

I smiled sadly. “But you are … now.See? You did not burst into flames at my touch.”

She hushed in a breath. “How?”

“You unselfishly thought ofanother over your own well-being.”

I withdrew a glistening rose frombeneath my cloak. “From the lushness of Eden. Take it. You will not suffer fromits touch.”

I watched her gingerly take it, notcaring if I lied.

“Keep it high upon a wall in yourbedchambers, Mrs. Adams. Mayhap its fragrance will remind you that your soulstill lives … 

still fights to remain true to the love you once shared with yourhusband.”

Abigail Adams hunched over and walked slowly into the utter darkness.

I heard her whisper. “Gently areyou revenged against me, Seraph.”

Sister Ameal frowned as I turnedto go. “We are not going into Club Oblivion?”

“No need. I see that in thoseenvirons, the poor thing begins to age. Even now, she appears a teenager. Oh, I misspoke: she has crumbled into dust.”

I smiled of salt. “Sometimes, it isa fearsome thing to gain that for which we wish.”

I saw a flash of what lay instore for Richard … and myself and knew what I said to be true.

“Death is the mother of beauty;hence from her, alone, shall come fulfillment to our dreams and our desires.”

 NEXT: 

DEATH IN THE HIDDEN VALLEY OF PARIS

A tale of the mysterious McCord mentioned in this tale.