[https://i.imgur.com/PBVPzlJ.png]
Caleb was freaking out! Not a calm sort of missing keys freak out. Not even like a mysterious call to the boss’s office freak out.
Caleb. Was. Freaking. OUT.
“I can’t believe this.” He rubbed his neck. “I can’t believe I was so stupid. Everlong always warned me to not read strange papers in forgotten manuscripts. What did I do?”
Now he faced the consequences of that decision. This debacle was entirely his fault.
“Gah, that portal opened in the ceiling, and I screamed like a girl. Then that dainty lady appeared in the center of my pentacle. My pentacle! Then, that blasted dome appeared.”
The woman behind the shimmering red barrier wore a murderous expression that chilled Caleb to the bone. Death—that’s the word that screamed in his mind at the sight of her twisted snarl.
He didn’t blame her for wanting to end him. Caleb had forcibly summoned her using that damned spell. Now she was trapped, and guilt choked him.
Even worse, nothing he did made any difference. The woman continued to scream and rail, but not a sound escaped the mystical prison he’d inadvertently created.
Caleb turned to leave, but froze, his heart dropping as she reared back, ready to strike the dome.
“NO!” He shouted and lunged forward. “If you have any magic in you…”
The barrier clanged from her blow. She recoiled violently, flung backwards, crashing onto the cobblestones. Caleb flinched as her head cracked against the ground. Without sound, the sight was more devastating.
Guilt flooded him as she writhed, cradling her arm, now blackened with ash. Great, he’d injured a magical creature. But standing around wasn’t helping.
“I’m sorry!” He rushed about, yanking a vial from his shelf. Nearly falling, he pulled a spice jar from the cabinet. Stumbling, he yanked a dried snakeskin from the table.
“God damn, I’m so sorry. I can’t believe this happened to me! I always pay my taxes and help old ladies cross the street!!”
Without bothering to mix anything, he hurled the items in his arms. Glass broke with a celestial chime against the spell barrier. Liquids sloshed and fizzled as it struck the dome.
A vibrant flash of light exploded across the basement. Caleb barely had time to turn his back and shield his eyes before the brilliance seared his eyeballs. When the room once more plunged into its comfortable semi-darkness, Caleb looked.
“No! It didn’t work?” He slumped against his desk. “Think, Caleb. What would Everlong do?”
The woman was sitting up and glaring at him disapprovingly, cradling her injured arm. Even with that strange layer of red between them, he thought her dark hair worked perfectly with her brilliant eyes. Not to mention her adorable nose. Gah, what he would pay to see if it crinkled when she smiled.
No, he shook his head. There would be no nose crinkles. This could be some terrible soul sucking demon from another realm. Regardless, he had to get her out.
“Shit.” He turned away. “She looks even cuter, scowling.”
Now to more motivation to free her, he skidded back and forth between the dome and his shelves. Sometimes he’d throw everything in his Blendtec before chucking it at that damn spell. Still, nothing worked.
“I can’t believe this.” He rubbed his hair. “I can’t believe I was so stupid. Calm down and think.”
It was a good plan until he turned around. The woman, usually as straight as a column, slouched forward.
“Oh no. Oh, no.”
Then it got worse. As the stranger toppled over like a falling building, a vision overtook him the moment she collided with the ground.
He was fleeing from an unknown, an alarm screaming as death’s grip tightened around his frantic heart. As they fled, her hand gripped his. She led the way. Her mighty scythe slashed, cutting shadowy beings to nothing.
Caleb shook his head, slumping into the chair with a groan as the intense vision finally released its grip. His most vivid one yet…could the woman’s collapse have triggered it?
“You’re an idiot.” Caleb spun around in his chair only to stop himself. “Stupid twice over.”
[https://i.imgur.com/7T1HbUF.png]
He pulled an ink bottle from its resting place and threw it. The little boy inside of him giggled with excitement. He’d always wanted to throw a full ink vial, but the practical adult inside never let him.
Trails of dark liquid scattered like black meteors as the vessel spiraled through the air. The vessel smashed against the stone floor with a resounding crack, shards exploding outward in a glittering cascade. The inky constellation fractured at his feet.
“Please.” Caleb slid off his chair to watch the black pool and spread over the stones. “Please. Faster!” He got down on his knees and blew. “Go. Go!”
Slowly it spread, taking its sweet time to ooze over the white pentacle. Just when he’d lost hope it would work, the dome fizzled and sparked. Flaming dots of crimson shot outward, and he ducked behind his chair as they plunked off the surfaces. With a disappointing sputter, the red snapped out.
Caleb tripped in his frantic rush to get to her, landing hard on the stone. But he didn’t stop, instead scrambled to her side. “Wake up. God, I hope you don’t kill me.”
Unsure if he could touch her and survive, he lingered for a second. But she looked so sad and pitiful. Lying there on the stones, with no one to hold her. So, it might end him, but he had to help.
“It is my fault, after all. I should bear some responsibility.” Carefully, he eased a lock of hair back to look at her face. Stars, she was pretty.
“I’m going to touch you. Please don’t kill me.” He exhaled shakily, overcome with conflicting emotions as he cradled the mysterious woman’s limp body. When they settled on the cold ground, a strange glowing aura accumulated.
It was barely evident at first, just a peculiar shimmer in the air. Now, the color and sheen were unmistakable.
“No, thank you.” He batted off the obvious magic and it dissipated. “We don’t need that complication.”
The frantic energy was draining from him, leaving him feeling a little shaky and depressed. “This is all my fault,” he said, brushing more hair from her face. Her arm remained blackened, with burns snaking up before disappearing under her singed shirt.
She nestled in his lap, her head pressed close as he cradled her. All he could do was keep her safe, hold her close against the chill of the basement. As he did, her earthy scent enveloped him—metal and rain-soaked stone.
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
A moan slipped from her lips, the sound sending both shivers of desire and terror through his body. That desire increased when she opened her eyes, and they snapped onto his. Instantly, fire blossomed within them, a holy rage that would petrify. Except he wasn’t frightened. Instead, electricity cascaded across him.
Then, he knew nothing would ever be the same again.
“What the fuck were you thinking!?” she yelled, shoving him backward with a strength belying her frame.
“Ouch! Damn, that hurt.”
“That hurt! That hurt!” She shoved her injured hand into his face. “This hurts! I win. Jesus fucking Christ.”
“Okay, sorry, you win. I surrender. Don’t kill me, please! I haven’t read Doors of Stone yet, and I can’t die before that.”
The woman glowered more, before allowing him to stand.
He extended his hand, but she didn’t take it. “Hello, I am Caleb Alexander Mitchell, born June 30th, 1980, in Portland, Oregon. I studied Occult Sciences in Oxford, graduated in…”
She glared, and he snapped his mouth shut. “I don’t want your fucking biography. The only thing I want to know is why the hell you did this to me. I’d transform and scare the living shit out of you, but I’m low on magic.”
“What kind of magic do you have?”
Not answering him, she made a face and stalked away.
“Wait, are you going to answer me? I hate unanswered questions. That’s why I can’t watch Unsolved Mysteries.”
She showed him no mercy. Instead walked to a shelf and started looking over vials.
“Will you at least tell me your name? Because I’ll have to make one up if you don’t.”
That got a reaction, and she turned to glare at him. “I’m not giving you anything.”
“Okay, then I’ll call you Pretty…”
Without warning, she was on him. Her slender fingers, deceptively strong, wrapped around his neck as she stared up, eyes ablaze. They were chilly but still held a softness. But he’d seen nothing so tantalizing yet terrifying as those eyes. An electric radiance swirled within, as though bright magic itself glowed from her very soul. Utterly breathtaking.
“Finish that sentence, Cal, and you’ll spend the next thousand years sitting in purgatory with Jon and Abigail.”
“Jon and Abigail. They don’t sound too bad.”
“She is an eternal complainer. He is a self-absorbed narcissist.”
Caleb shivered. “Okay, no made up names. But it would be easier…”
“Styx. My name is Styx. Happy? Now where do you keep your moondust?”
He smiled and pointed to the other side of the basement with his low table and oak shelves. Styx walked off with her arms full of items.
“What are you doing? I can help. I helped a witch for almost twelve years.”
“She tolerated you for that long? Wow, she must have the patience of a monk.”
“Yes, she is very patient with me. I was a complete noob…” Styx shoved past him and started browsing the table. “Complete noob. Didn’t know one side of boiled newts’ tongue from another.”
“Cal…”
“Caleb.”
“What?”
“It’s Caleb, not Cal. Cal is some self-important steel tycoon who is all about extreme wealth and extravagance. I’m Caleb, more grounded, uh, casual approachable guy.”
“Whatever you say, Cal,” Styx said.
“Hey!”
Ignoring him, she slid onto his desk before shoving all his papers and pencils off.
“Hey! You can’t treat my things like that.” He scooped up the grimoire from the ground.
“I don’t know what spell you’re trying, but hey doesn’t seem to work. So stop repeating it, Cal.”
“Hey!!”
Caleb snapped his mouth shut and looked away. Styx huffed and dumped the contents of the items she’d picked on the table. With a few motions, she chanted some words.
“I thought you said you didn’t have magic?”
Styx sighed. “I have enough for this, just not to transform.”
“Transform,” he perked up. “Sounds like Sailor Moon.”
Styx snorted. “Thanks, we’d be evenly matched, too. Because…”
Caleb waited for her to finish the statement, but she turned back to her work. But before he could interrupt again, the fine powders and dust on the counter knit together. Styx continued to chant. The shape solidified, and an image snapped into life.
Three other faces crowded into the oval, pushing against their neighbor to see better.
“Death!” a voice called out. “What the hell?”
“I’ll rip his arms off.”
Caleb cringed and held onto himself.
“I’ll make him think he’s a five-year-old girl who’s obsessed with mushrooms.”
“I’ll rot his teeth out.”
“I’ll…”
“Okay,” Styx held up her hand. “I’m sure you all have wonderfully horrible things to do. This Cal.” She yanked him into the view of the mirror.
He waved sheepishly and tried not to stare at the bulging muscles of that one lady. She was probably the one who was going to rip his arms off, and he liked his arms.
“It’s, uh, Caleb.”
“Caleb, you moron!” The woman with feathers in her hair shouted.
“Yes,” he nodded. “I agree. I never, ever, ever, should have read that. Never ever. I’m a bad man and deserve punishment.”
“Right.” Styx shoved him away, and he stumbled a few steps before righting himself. “As you can see, I’m fine. I’ll need some food, but then I’ll be back. Don’t bother coming to get me.”
“Are you sure? He’s a human. We can slice him into a thousand pieces and knit him together backwards.”
Caleb gasped. That idea sounded very painful.
“No, it’s fine,” Styx said. “Cal here will generously feed me, and I’ll be back shortly.”
“Better serve you fillet mignon with fairy truffles, and at least two sides. No! Make it three and a drink.”
“Okay,” Styx held up a hand. “I need to eat. Talk to you all soon.”
The women complained before the oval wiped clear and everything crumbled into its previous state. Caleb wrung his hands and couldn’t seem to pry his eyes from her.
“Food. Now.”
“Right, food. We talked about that.” He tripped over the bottom stairs before righting himself and jogging up. “Come on up. Don’t knock any stacks over.”
“Stacks?”
He could sense her presence behind him, like a hunter stalking its prey. When she emerged into the hallway, her eyes widened for a moment.
“Oh. So you’re a scholar then. Explains a lot.”
Caleb grinned. It’s not like she could assume anything else about him. Weird occult basement, grimoires, potion items, and books meant scholar.
“Here is the kitchen. I’ll make you a sandwich.”
He dug around in the fridge for all the essentials. When he emerged, she sat at his table, digging into his big bag of chili lime popcorn.
“Those are a favorite. The chili lime flavor is excellent.”
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Because he was a sandwich making pro, he slid the plate toward her in no time. She scanned it once before picking it up in her scalded hand. Her nostrils flared before she devoured it in three bites. Wide-eyed, he had no response and could only stare at her.
“I’m Death baby, I’m very good at devouring.”
Caleb opened and closed his mouth repeatedly before he got the words out. “Death? As in, like dying?”
“Death, one of the four horsewomen of the apocalypse. That was War, Famine, and Pestilence.”
“Uh, oh, um, wow. You, uh.” Caleb ran his fingers through his hair. “Death? Why horsewomen? I thought it was horsemen?”
Styx closed her eyes and exhaled. “Sexist dicks.”
“What?”
“The dicks who wrote the bible. They didn’t like a woman being more powerful than a man. Since their society was patriarchal, they needed to maintain that. So horsewomen became horsemen.”
“That’s…horrible.”
“I’ll have Rowan turn you into a 37-year-old, professional, single woman and see if ‘horrible’ still applies.”
“Just for you, I’m going to write a book about why it should be horsewomen instead of horsemen.”
Styx eyed him for a moment before bursting out laughing. She slapped his back, too forcefully, and laughed harder. Wiping tears from her eyes, she finally brought herself under control.
“What? I will.”
“I’m sure you will, and I’m sure it will sell five copies and you’ll get laughed out of the scientific community.”
Caleb smiled. “I said, I’d write it. I never said I’d publish it.”
Styx laughed again, this time slapping him twice on the back. “You sure are entertaining, Cal.”
“Caleb.”
“Well, the sandwich and popcorn helped. I’m going to head out now.”
“Where?”
“Back to my office, where I never should’ve left.” She turned to stare at him.
He blushed and rubbed his neck. “Sorry again about that. I feel bad.”
“As you should. Do you realize what would have happened if you hadn’t broken the barrier?”
Caleb nodded, but he didn’t want to voice the words. The implications seemed too horrible to say.
“Don’t do it again.”
He shook his head emphatically. “I will take whatever binding, irrevocable oath you ask.”
“Good.”
She eyed him once before leaving his kitchen, weaving through the house. It was obvious she’d spellbound him, as he couldn’t consider not following her.
Styx strode across the living room, her sights set on the far wall. Caleb trailed behind, wondering what captured her attention. As they drew nearer, the air began to shimmer and distort.
A portal snapped into life on his wall, obscuring the faded wallpaper and making the light fixtures clink. Styx paused before it, glancing coyly over her shoulder back at him.
“Wait!” Caleb cried out, panic rising as he realized her intent. “Don’t go!”
But Styx didn’t stop. Within seconds, the swirling grays and blues consumed her. Caleb rushed forward, desperate not to be separated from her. Throwing caution out the door, he jumped.
The magic repelled him with a powerful shove, sending him sprawling backwards across the floor. He crashed into several towers of books, which collapsed on him.
Caleb groaned, defeat and anguish washing over him. Styx had disappeared without a trace. She was gone…to wherever Death resided. But he wanted to get to know her, talk to her, laugh with her. Watch her devour sandwiches in record time.
But she was gone, vanished, never to be seen again.
That idea filled him with such cold and stinging dread. Tears filled his eyes. He didn’t want this to be the last time he saw her.
“She didn’t even say goodbye.”
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