Post by Nathan Saniti on May 8, 2017 19:39:01 GMT -5
The Star of Babylon - Lust - Chapter 7
A midnight blue phone, ancient by today's standards, rang with such urgency that it nearly shook itself free of the cradle the headset rested upon. The sleeve of a tailored suit covered the arm that reached for the receiver. It was difficult to tell whether the owner of said hand was disgruntled at the interruption or whether the noise was a slight, malevolent chuckle. The weathered, leathery skin adorning the hand grasped the phone, bringing it to his ear as he wordlessly listened.
His office was dimly lit; only the meager desk lamp casting an amber glow upon a small pile of paperwork neatly arranged and color-coded with amusingly shaped colored paperclips. The flawless mahogany shone brightly where the light dared touch it, casting a pleasing reflection onto the occupant's hands, arms, and midsection, yet the rest of him remained obfuscated by the darkness. Only brief glimpses of a shadowy profile or silhouette granted anyone passing by some reference point for the one the golden placard at the head of the desk proclaimed as "The Captain."
"I'd like to order a bottle of Antik Wein Bourdeaux, circa 1958, if you don't mind," requested the voice of Neville Saniti. "I forgot to order it when I requested the message sent to that lovely woman. Could you please bring it to me before she arrives?"
The door to the Captain's office opened of its own accord just before the Bellhop could loose a single rap. Normally, the look of shock would amuse the Captain, but this was business after all. The Madame stood behind the messenger, both felt a shudder of discontent as the cool air wafted over them from within the office.
A gravelly voice chuckled wholeheartedly on the other end of the phone line. "I'm afraid we haven't had that spirit here since 1969." A groan of disappointment echoed from inside the receiver. "However, I have it on good authority that the young Madame is partial to pink champagne. Shall I send some over?" He paused to hear the reluctant agreement of his special client. He snapped his fingers and motioned for the Bellhop to scuttle off on the errand.
The Madame watched the half naked young man scurry off with a pang of envy. She swallowed hard before she dared return her gaze into the dark recesses of the room. The blackness gave her a foreboding, a dread so deep that she felt she would go mad if she stared into it for too long. Even the warm glow of the lamp that allowed her some semblance of a person to focus upon gave her no ease. All she saw was that darkness; sinister and chilling. She dared go no further than the opening of the office door.
The voices of the enthralled masses cried from what seemed far away. How she despised hearing their bellows, longing for it all to end. It would even wake her in the middle of the night at times. It was a never-ending loop of people greeting others, complementing the hotel or someone's appearance. Combined with the company of the man in this room, it was all she could do to keep from screaming in sheer terror and leaping out of the nearest window to her death. Again.
The gravelly voice finished its conversation with Neville and disconnected the line before the shadowed head peered in her direction. The light from the lamp shone at just the right angle for the eyes to glow red, turning the blood in her veins to ice.
"Magdelline," growled the Captain. "Mr. Neville Saniti requests the pleasure of your company."
Finally, something to warm her spirit. This was the news she had hoped for. She bowed her head more out of relief and gratitude for the situation than reverence for the occupant of this office. She clasped her hands in front of her to prevent her excitement from giving her away.
The hands folded themselves on the desk, the red glow of the eyes unwavering, unblinking. "He is a special soul. We need him." The eyes tilted suspiciously. "You DO remember your purpose, yes?"
The Madame's eye's grew wide with abject fear, her heartbeat hastened to the point that she felt it was more likely to escape her chest that she this prison. "Yes, Captain," she mewled weakly.
The man behind the desk chuckled again. "Good. Excellent." He paused, a snarl of teeth growing from the blackness. They were perfect in their white hue, yet looked sharp enough to bite through the very desk they sat behind without much effort. "Use your talents. Recruit him. The others will fall of their own accord. Or we can use him to convince them to join us as well. We can't afford to let these special souls get away. Make sure they all attend the feast."
She bowed again, a single tear rolling down her alabaster cheek, as she backed away from the door. It closed with slam just inches from her face. Her brain couldn't decide whether to be relieved or startled from the abrupt end of her summoning. Either way, she knew she was set on a path that would be her undoing.
*******
Kelli wandered their suite, as naked as the day she was born, yet with all of the proper adult accoutrements. Nathan watched his beloved with the awe of a love struck teenager. She guzzled another glass of wine, wishing that it would have an effect on her, not to spite her company, but to enhance it. She had been in a funk of late, both in-ring and out, unable to focus her energies into any one thing with any success. As she tipped the glass vertical, her foot found the luggage, causing her to discover that it is impossible to scream in pain and swallow at nearly the exact same time.
"FUCK!" She glowered down at the floor to find the offender that attempted to rearrange her toes so abruptly. Her throbbing pinky toe had found the luggage the bellhop brought in for them at their arrival. She cocked her head slowly from side to side, the ebb of pain subsiding from the distraction. "Nathan, do you remember packing suitcases?"
Nathan shook his head. "I'm not certain that they are real."
"Sure as hell felt real enough to my foot." Kelli bent to pick up the valise, finding it too heavy for her to even budge. She tested Nathan's with the same result. "These things weigh a ton. How the hell did that skinny boy schlep these up all by himself."
"When I said I suspected that they weren't real, what I meant is that I believe that they may be metaphorical." Nathan stood, every part of him cutting the breeze as he echoed Kelli's efforts to budge the bags. "This proves it. If neither you nor I could move them, then they must be filled with our emotional baggage; things we must shed."
"Like what?"
"Perhaps your feelings of inadequacy of late. Perhaps my dealings with Mr. Phinehas Dillinger and Mr. Jase Willard and his band of cultists. Perhaps even more."
"What should we do?" inquired Kelli. "Seromine is a concern for both of us, too, you know."
"I think you should address your fears firsthand, in any way you can." Nathan thought for a bit. "That may work for a start. Seromine and his crew are growing in strength, but they are also making a lot of enemies. Mr. Ford and Ms. Eira are two that immediately come to mind who have suffered from his far reaching shenanigans. Maybe it's time for the Harvesters to ask for some assistance."
"What about Grimm?"
"For the time being, Mr. Dillinger appears to be involved solely within the confines of competition. His mystic roots may not shackle him to that role for long. Win or lose, I must get close enough to attempt to determine his role before he slips away beyond the curtain."
He thought for a bit, mindlessly testing the handle of his suitcase. As he decreed his intentions, some of the weight of the case felt as if it evaporated. It was still far too heavy to lift, but he managed to budge it from its resting place ever so slightly. Nathan puzzled at the case, knowing his subconscious held the slurry that flowed within the container. He knew they must lighten their load as best they could. And he knew it had better happen soon. Something devious was afoot, and it would culminate very soon.
