In Darkness We Trust
1 : Revival
The sky was murky, overcast and unpleasant, even for a wintry afternoon in mid January. Frost glazed the dormant wheat fields and parched roots avoided the fields’ long, oblong soil patches where plants refused to grow. Despite the lack of growth, sisters – dressed in their thick black hooded habits – roamed one of the open fields, frayed handles of wicker baskets perched over their wrists. They had been sent from their Catholic convent - which was less than a mile away - to clear the earth of weeds in preparation for the planting of fresh crops in February. Most of them were quiet and focused on their work, but others chirped to one another as they hunched over, finding enjoyment in their mundane, labour-intensive task by socializing with one another.
Too distracted by their work or the cheerful conversation, they were oblivious to a lone bird that had been circling overhead for quite some time. The crow had managed to keep itself flying above the group of chattering nuns for an impressive half an hour, and it occasionally tilted its head so that its glossy black eyes could wisely survey the land below. Its behaviour was so unusual that it was strange how the sisters had missed the soaring sight amongst the faded ash-like clouds, but they were content occupying themselves...
Their obliviousness persisted, even when one of the field’s impotent, dry patches of ominous soil subtly began to crack at its surface. The rectangular area of withered earth feebly trembled, the growth of dried wheat-grass and twisted roots that outlined its edges creaking as they tried to pitifully recede from the source of the rumble. The nuns continued to contentedly work, even when the crow let out a choked caw, its wings violently flapping before it sharply swooped downwards, confidently headed towards the simmering soil. Once it gracefully landed by the outskirts of the impotent patch, its dainty feet crunched over the cold, frosted ground and it circled around a few times before it found a decent position to stand in. It viewed the ominous rectangle of dirt with an air of wisdom and after shaking out its wings in order to get more comfortable... it stooped down, the tip of its shiny curved beak tapping the ground in three smooth actions.
After the third tap it gracefully raised its head and observed the land expectantly, a subtle ribbon of black shimmering particles nonchalantly seeping out from its shadowy form to drift towards the crumbling soil...
And like something had detected its quiet beak-taps... the patch of barren ground began to quake more violently.
The crow toppled a few steps back, its wings flapping to ensure it kept its balance, though it managed to keep its obsidian eyes on the trembling ground, captivated by what was occurring. When more and more crumbles of soil began to mount at the surface, spurting up from the deep recesses below like an earth fountain... the virtuous eyes of the care-free nuns were finally attracted. As more and more of the sisters turned, brows furrowed in confusion, their curiosity quickly turned to terror... pallid clenched fingers clawed from the thick contents of the grave, knuckles cracked and stained with crisped blood. The chipped ends of faded black fingernails scraped away at the surface like they were seeking purchase, and soon, they were successful, slender fingers desperately raking through the unforgiving earth.
The sisters found that they could only stare in horror as the wrists of the hands – which were circled with split strips of thick duct tape and friction burns - soon emerged from the ground, the fingers still viciously swiping away at the dirt in order to hoist up the rest of their body. The insides of pale forearms were noticeably soiled and red raw with intricate brands as they inhumanly scrambled to break free of their restrictive grave, the whistling, gravelly wheeze that soon followed spewing up white vapour as their hot, arid breath shot into the wintry air like a relieved jet of steam. Their scratchy wheezes persisted as they clambered from their allotted resting place, soil tumbling down from the creases of their folded shirt sleeves, which were tainted a dark bronze due the sludge of earth that had surrounded them for the past month.
The muscles in their arms tensed as the rest of their head finally surfaced, their soft, pallid complexion shrouded in a lively layer of black particles and grave dirt. Their eyes were deep sunken hollows in their respective eye-sockets, shadowy ribbons of energy spewing from the orifices of their face. Their burgundy hair was dishevelled and knotted into rag-like plaits by the sides of their head and they swung like pendulums as they locked their arms out beside them, pushing the ground in order to pull their chest from the grave. They expelled a grotesque, unholy wail as they clambered up some more, their black waistcoat and matching tie, grungy, moth-eaten and stained. And soon, they were tossing the soil aside to free the rest of their form as quickly as they could, their head slowly turning to calculate their surroundings. Due to the unnatural emptiness in the shadowy eye-sockets of something that was presumed to be undead, a handful of the nuns shrieked out in panic but most of the others abruptly dropped their wicker baskets to swiftly escape the frightful scene, the black material of their habits flowing behind them.
As more and more sisters began to abandon their duties in favour of fleeing, more wheezes passed through the awoken’s chapped lips, their hot breath funnelling into visible opal wisps. Breathing seemed to be a shock to their system and they struggled to wiggle their legs free, their wide onyx irises glaring at the composed crow in front of them, which was still outlined in glistening black particles as it cocked its head to the side, displaying expectant wisdom. Another unholy wail made its way out of their dry throat and they finally clawed at the clumps of withered wheat-grass and contorted roots that lined one of the edges of their grave.
The bird simply continued to witness their immense efforts, calmly standing a few inches away from their curled fingers, which were still picking at the ground... and soon, they growled out in victory, feeling the soil around their legs crumble away. They managed to clamber free and dragged themselves up from the unpleasant recesses of the underground, their actions causing the crow’s wings to flap like it was a form of applause...
And then, after a couple of minutes where they simply struggled to get to their feet, their aching legs trembling, the black oxfords on their feet heavy and obscured by crumbled clumps of dried mud... they eventually managed to stand, their exhausted, hunched form fuelled by nothing but dark matter and determination. They glared their blank, vacuous eyes, seeking instruction from the unassuming, inconspicuous black-feathered crow perched over the frosted field before them.
With loud, bated breaths, they stooped forwards with a wince, outstretching their left arm, their joints audibly cracking. The bird seemed to approve of their actions and it excitedly skipped closer, tilting its head as it persisted to study their empty, clouded eyes with intrigue. And once they relaxed their arm, unfurling their grimy fingers, the crow nimbly climbed up their arm to settle over their dusty left shoulder... where it sat majestically, content with its reclaimed company.
2 : Papa IV’s Overture
The reign of Papa Emeritus IV couldn’t have arrived sooner. Due to the sudden – breath-taking - death of Papa Nihil, the role of Papa was Cardinal Copia’s by default, and most Ministry-dwellers were overjoyed by the inevitable changes that were lurking on the horizon of 2021. After Copia’s sudden yet smooth ascension, he wasted no time in seizing his newfound power, and to most of the Clergy’s dismay, started to splurge the Ministry’s funds left, right and centre. His papal robes were amongst the first lot of purchases and they were the most extravagant yet. He was impossible to ignore as he wandered the church’s marble-clad corridors, deep blue robes and tall, matching mitre sparkling as a Ghoul regally tailed him, boom box perched across its left shoulder. For months he had a soundtrack playing everywhere he walked and to his smug approval, was usually the centre of everyone’s attention.
His tendency to casually spend money wasn’t all that bad, however. After deciding that the Ministry was a little behind the times, he modified a large number of its general rules to suit his preferences and introduced adolescent Siblings to the place in order to share Satan’s teachings with a younger audience. And with the addition of new inhabitants, came the inevitable, belated arrival of Wi-Fi, much to Sister Imperator’s annoyance. Technology swarmed the church and Imperator was livid because she couldn’t find a way to stop such a thing... she certainly couldn’t persuade the new Papa to retract the new changes, especially when he revelled in the fact he’d had a perfectly sized pocket sewn beneath his robes for holding his cell phone.
Other than bringing the Ministry into the appropriate century, Copia had also strongly insisted that the more dangerous sections of the older complex were renovated to a reliable standard. This request had made his subordinates bewildered... no one set foot in the building anymore, so it seemed like he was wasting money on a wasted building. Nevertheless, the work went ahead and once it was finished... everyone was still set on avoiding the place.
As a consequence of Papa’s sudden alterations to the Ministry and its occupants, the first few months of his reign were rather hectic, but neither the Siblings nor the Clergy complained, even if they disagreed with the decisions he was making. After years of Nihil’s stale, unrelenting rule, they were grateful for some kind of change, no matter the kind of form it took.
Yet when the first few months eventually passed, the gleam of Copia’s new title started to wear thin, and suddenly, it was fairly apparent that he was already starting to grow bored of the job. The generous myriad of cash was a satisfying perk, but once he actually had to deliver sermons, sign endless papers, answer overseas calls from disgruntled cardinals, sort out Sibling quarrels, discipline unruly Ghouls, satisfy pining sisters, fire incompetent members of the Clergy, make TV appearances, manage finances, and map out a tour for the release of the next Ghost album... it was all too overwhelming and stressful.
It seemed that the position Copia had been desperate to fill for a number of arduous decades, wasn’t quite what he’d anticipated at all...
3 : An Infamous Midnight Mass
It was the Ministry's last midnight mass of spring to welcome the slow approach of summer. And though it was mid May, the cold chill of night time clutched at everyone's ankles as they huddled together amongst the cathedral's packed out pews, their breaths jetting out as visible white vapour whenever they exhaled. Unlike the satanic midnight masses of the late Papa Nihil, the audience was still very much awake... and thankfully so was the unseasoned Papa IV, who was confidently delivering a rather philosophical sermon from the raised pulpit. The place was crammed full of Siblings of Sin that were wrapped up in their thickest vestments, each one perching thin metal-clad candle holders over their laps to keep themselves somewhat warm. The slender black candles they clutched wavered tastefully and lit up the rows of pews with a warm golden glow. Incense heavily lingered in the air and every so often, there was a fresh burst to ensure the overpowering scent was ever present.
Backed by an elaborate mountain of flickering black candles - which were various shapes and sizes - Copia's eyes slowly trailed across the vast space of the room, ensuring his gaze addressed everyone as he spoke. His mismatched eyes glistened from the large number of naked flames surrounding him and he looked imposing against the backdrop of moonlit stain-glass, steep slopes of black candles and suspended tapestries. He was heavily focused on the stress of his words and the gestures of his gloved hands, trying to express himself as sincerely as possible.
He managed to prolong his concentration for the first fifteen minutes of the sermon and effortlessly had everyone's attention... even those that disapproved of him found that they couldn't tear their eyes away from his glittering presence. From Sister Imperator on the front row to the line of hooded individuals that were stood behind the back pews, each set of obscured eyes intently settled on him. His method of delivering a sermon was completely unorthodox and incredibly casual, like he was simply chatting to old friends, but there was something captivating about his performance that was impossible to describe.
He continued to speak confidently, and as he trailed his gaze further and further across the width of the cathedral... something unusual caught his eye. Something obsidian, that had briefly lowered into his line of sight. He drew out a hesitation to ensure that he had thinking time, his head tipping back slightly so that his eyes could search the large expanse of ceiling for whatever it was he'd seen. He surveyed the space above and his brow furrowed, his words catching at the back of his throat. His eyes latched onto the black feathered bird instantly, and though his eyes slowly followed its movements as it elegantly - and silently - swooped over the oblivious heads of the captivated congregation, rehearsed phrases started to impulsively tumble out of his mouth.
The packed pews didn't seem to notice his distracted gaze, and he continued to peer up at the surveying crow, his eyes suddenly bearing wisdom despite his bewildered frown. The bird gently circled above, tilting its head downwards like it was assessing those that were below, its glossy black eyes squinting with concentration. It ensured that it kept close to the ceiling, like it didn't wish to alert any of the humans on the ground and Copia's eyes narrowed in interest, words continuing to escape his mouth.
His furrowed brow set in place and he reluctantly lowered his head to acknowledge his audience again. Even though he had looked away from the ceiling, the crow's presence still bothered him for some reason and his mind began to wander to possible explanations for its presence. But after a short while, he couldn't think of anything plausible and soon gave up, deciding to focus on delivering his sermon instead. Ignoring the elegant flight of the black crow above, his gaze steadily scoured the crowded pews as speech unconsciously flowed from him. He settled his gaze on those that were stood at the very back of the place and spotted the unmistakable sight of movement from the elaborate archway.
Never, in all those months since his ascension, had anyone attended his sermons so late. His words stalled for a moment and his eyes narrowed in slight irritation, but he carried on like nothing had ever occurred, content with sending them an intense, searing gaze. His mismatched irises followed the direction of the latecomer's dark figure as it cut across the back row of Siblings, its movements sharp and purposeful. And when its distant form emerged from the mass of his subordinates, it paused, standing in the middle of the central aisle like it was mirroring - or mocking - the position of the pulpit.
He was shocked that someone had the audacity to do such a thing but kept quiet, locking his hardened eyes on them. He couldn't make out much because they were located at the opposite end of the cathedral, but he could just distinguish the black material of their attire, and it clutched to them closely... but it wasn't like the vestments of the surrounding Siblings, it looked more like... a suit.
Copia's frown etched deeper and he squinted his eyes, hoping that it would help him study them better... it certainly did. He loudly hesitated and suddenly, his hostility vanished completely. Due to the fresh look of startled horror on Papa's face, whispers started to break loose and once his throat dried, his voice was halted from making any more noise and silence swept through the width of the cathedral, the soft rustle of wings coating the incense infused air above. Heads began to hastily turn to follow the direction of Copia's wide, alarmed irises... and they settled on a woman who was eerily standing in the aisle between the two wide sections of pews, arms folded over her chest in a strict manner.
Her skin was milky white and although there was nothing virtuous or contrived about her face, her features were incredibly soft. Unlike her features, her eyes were harsh and seared like charred lumps of coal as they scoured over the packed pews in a contentious manner, regardless of the many eyes that had settled upon her. A sharp black blazer clutched to her torso, partially obscuring a matching waistcoat and tie, which contrasted the immaculate white shirt she wore beneath. The frayed ends of two plaits grazed the pressed material of her suit jacket, her thick hair an impossibly rich shade of burgundy.
Copia was speechless and simply glared at her like she was some kind of living nightmare. Although he couldn't study the stern woman closely from where he was stood, he certainly didn't need to... he knew exactly who she was and he assumed that there must have been some kind of gas leak, hopeful that what he was seeing was some kind of hallucination. But his hopefulness was pointless, because the fact that every single Sibling in the pews had swivelled around to face the woman who had caused him to wear an involuntary look of shock proved that she was certainly existent.
Her gaze continued to trail across the silent mass of people and eventually, her black eyes arrived at the pulpit. The arms in front of her chest tightened and her shoulders tensed, her head tilting in confusion as she tried to make sense of what she was seeing. Everyone could tell from her body language that she hadn't anticipated Copia's presence, let alone his dazzling royal blue robes or papal skull-paint...
He parted his painted lips and his heart thumped in his ears, filling the uncomfortable silence that was outstaying its welcome. His breaths became shorter and he yearned to descend the pulpit's stairs to dash towards her... but his feet were glued to the spot and he was set on staring at her in shocked amazement. His heart started to pound faster when she noticeably shifted her head away from him, and to his confusion, she peered upwards, her form stiffening even more. Her eyes followed the elegant crow’s movements closely, and once the bird flew up higher in order to execute a dive-bomb action, she confidently stepped forwards, striding down the vacant aisle in a defiant manner.
Each set of eyes was on her as she allowed her arms to swing by her sides, her eyes narrowing in concentration once the crow swooped down to calmly hover over one of the central pews on the left side of the cathedral. Her pace sped up once the bird let out a shrill caw and nonchalantly drifted down to idly land on one particular individual's shoulder... a priest who was so flawlessly pale that his skin matched the tone of his clerical collar. The scrutinising gazes of the Siblings slowly wandered to the wide-eyed man, and he seemed rather nervous and unsettled by the crow's presence. The bird simply shuffled over his shoulder and preened its shiny black feathers with its hooked beak, casually awaiting the woman's arrival.
Somehow, the silence still had a hold once the sharp-dressed woman came to a steady stop beside the gaunt, trembling priest and he immediately averted his eyes to his shoes to hide the unnatural glow of his blue irises. All the surrounding people could do was watch, as the woman reached beneath the hem of her black blazer to seize hold of something polished and undeniably sharp, and then... the crow flapped its wings violently, loudly squawking like it was some kind of warning. She lunged forwards, sharpened stake in hand, pinning the honed tip to the centre of the man's chest...
Gasps of horror spread like wildfire, for as she cleanly pulled her weapon away, the priest gave out a dramatic, vengeful hiss, revealing his twisted set of vampiric fangs and luminous cyan eyes... before he violently erupted into swishes of grey dust, soiling the pews and the polished chequered flooring below. The wine-haired woman smoothly holstered her stake into a slot on her belt and steadied out her left arm expectantly, clenching her pallid hand into a fist. The crow – which had nimbly landed over the wooden seat of the pew – shook off the thin layer of vampire dust that coated its feathers before propelling itself towards her. Once it settled over the black sleeve that covered her forearm, her expression became impassive and neutral like nothing had ever occurred and she turned around, wordlessly marching away from the scene, leaving to allow the cathedral to deal with its dumbfounded shock.
As she silently marched towards the arched exit, crow majestically perched on top of her arm, Sister Imperator shot up from the first row of pews, her intense eyes narrowed and bloodshot as she briefly regarded Copia... who was still stood motionless, utterly shell-shocked from what he’d just witnessed. The old woman shook her head in disapproval of his incompetence and reluctantly tore her gaze away, focusing on storming after the burgundy-haired woman instead, the clack of her heeled shoes echoing around the stone walls.
As Imperator stormed further and further away from him, Copia resisted the urge to let out a loud exasperated squeak, the heads of his subordinates slowly swivelling back around to face him, mouths agape, eyebrows knitted. He figured they were expecting him to say something to take their minds off what had happened... or perhaps they expected him to explain the sudden appearance of the Ministry’s ex-resident alchemist Aemelia Vial...
But he had absolutely no idea what to say, and he was certain that he couldn’t hide his bewilderment for his expression was one of alarm. He blinked away his thoughts and tried to relax his shoulders, clearing his throat to ensure that he had everyone’s attention. Nervously trailing his eyes over his expectant audience, he shifted nervously, swiftly lowering his gaze to glare down at a couple of jumbled pieces of paper that were resting over his lectern... his handwriting scrawled across each blank page and he swiped one of them up, crinkling the paper loudly with a nervous leather-clad fist.
“You guys... want to hear about the first time I met Satan?” he questioned, his voice filling the entire space of the cathedral as he anxiously flicked his hopeful eyes over the rows of confused Siblings. His offer only seemed to increase their confusion and he scrunched his unhelpful note into a crumpled ball with his gloved fist, carelessly tossing it over his shoulder. And his action suddenly prompted his subordinates to spew out panicked conversation, the silence overwritten by an eruption of chatter that was sure to give Copia a splitting headache.
“No? Nobody wants to hear that? Ok... cool, cool...” he muttered in a small voice, wincing at the chaotic clamour of his followers. He sighed deeply and clutched at the edges of the pulpit to steady himself, trailing his disappointed, tired eyes over the mass of people. And it wasn’t long until he spotted a familiar chrome-masked figure that was bounding down the aisle, obediently headed towards the pew that was now caked in an accumulation of powdered vampire remains, dustpan and brush in hand.
“You Ghouls can be a fucking handful...” Copia murmured beneath his breath, exhaling deeply to try and settle his heart rate. “... but I really can’t complain about the service.”
4 : Faithfully Reminiscent
Leaving the shambles of a sermon had been easy for Aemelia Vial, but ignoring the clack of heeled shoes behind her as she passed through the cathedral’s heavily decorated archway was impossible. She stopped in her tracks once she was present in the marble-walled corridor outside, the black crow that was perched over her arm cocking its head when she reluctantly pivoted around to face whoever was following her. Sister Imperator practically had steam coming out of her ears as she stalked towards the alchemist, her eyes squinting in accusation. Miss Vial made no attempt to turn and walk away, she simply stood, calmly meeting the old woman’s stare with a neutral expression. When Sister came to an abrupt halt in front of her, firmly grabbing hold of her right shoulder, Aemelia resisted the urge to sneer in distaste.
"I don't know what game you are trying to play..." Sister murmured in a low, threatening tone, subtly tilting her head in order to drop her spiteful words into Miss Vial's ear. "... but you should give up. You have already made your point clear to me. And the entire Ministry for that matter."
Aemelia set her jaw and her gaze sharpened as she lowered her stare to emptily acknowledge the hand that Sister was clamping around her shoulder, and she huffed in annoyance, slowly trailing her eyes back to the infuriating older woman.
"I'm not playing a game, Sister." the alchemist mumbled, her eyes glaring slightly as a sudden eruption of panicked voices echoed from the cathedral’s arched entrance.
"Of course you are playing a game, Miss Vial.” Imperator quietly replied, snatching her hand away from the woman to fold her arms in front of her chest. “Do not try to fool me. You are standing here before me when you should be withering in your own grave. There isn’t an ounce of rot on you, and you say that you’re not playing a game?”
"Well, I didn't return here to humiliate you, if that’s what you’re implying.” Miss Vial sternly responded, fearless as she emotionlessly returned the conniving woman’s resentful gaze. “I'm here for myself and no other reason."
Sister hummed in consideration – but it was clear that she didn’t believe a word of what the alchemist had said - and reluctantly swivelled around to briefly acknowledge the commotion that was coming from the cathedral. The audible chaos caused her to look concerned, but she also seemed slightly proud for some reason, the touch of a wily smirk reaching her mouth.
"Then you haven’t returned for... him?" Sister questioned sharply, eagerly flicking her blade-like eyes to hammer them into the younger woman.
"You really think I'm going to take Copia away from you, don't you?"
"Of course I do. You are stubborn, like me." Imperator commented, her folded arms tensing.
"I'm nothing like you." Aemelia bitterly retorted, shaking her head in subdued disbelief. “And I couldn’t give a damn about your son or... whatever the fuck he is. I’m here, because I want to be. The Ministry pays enough so that I get to live how I want. I’m not here for a powerful position or a... pay rise, even. I was fine with everything until you decided to fucking... marinate me in soil. I just want to get on with life here without you making everything a fuckin' hell, alright?"
Sister glared at her menacingly and she simply endured the spiteful gaze, reaching her right hand over to her left arm. She furrowed her brow in annoyance and gently stroked her fingers over the crow’s black feathers, and the bird tilted its head in approval but it was still listening intently.
"You should be dead, Miss Vial.” Imperator snapped, eyeing the crow in disinterest. “Do I really have to bury you a second time in order to do the job?"
"You never do the job, Sister.” the alchemist replied in a deadpan tone, gently burying the tips of her fingers in the bird’s thick black feathers. “You just stand and watch and let everyone else do your bidding. And after everything that’s happened... I fear you far less than I ever did, so I wouldn’t waste your time trying this time round. And don’t worry, I won't say a word about it. I doubt you’d want that information spread around this place.”
The older woman pursed her lips but stayed silent, dagger-like eyes piercing into the burgundy-haired woman, who was unnaturally calm considering the situation.
“There doesn’t have to be a problem between us, so long as we keep our separate ways.” Aemelia continued, lightly withdrawing her hand from the crow so that it could shuffle into a more comfortable position. “And just to remind you again... I don't desire to spend a single second in your son's company. So quit shitting a brick... now, if you don’t mind... I’m buggering off to settle back in.”
After sending Sister a wry smile, she swiftly turned away before she got a reply, storming through the marble-clad hallway as quickly as she could. All sorts of worried thoughts should have been plaguing her after such an uncomfortable interaction, but for once, her head was completely clear. Although Miss Vial was still deeply traumatised by what had happened to her six months ago, she didn’t feel a shred of vengeance. She was noticeably at peace with Sister’s actions, and as she strayed further and further from Imperator’s view, the old woman began to seethe with annoyance...
Walking the desolate halls of the Ministry’s modern complex was like reliving the previous year all over again. It was oddly pleasant to traipse the slabstone floor, and Aemelia wore a calm expression, cautiously slowing her strides in order to stretch her left arm in front of her. The crow cawed and sprung from her sleeve, flapping its wings to elegantly soar through the air, eagerly surveying the contents of the upcoming corridor.
Now free of her bird companion, she sighed, hugging her arms around herself. She slowly followed the direction of the crow, trailing her dark eyes over the elaborate walls - immaculate marble stone on one side of her, thick stonework and stain-glass on the other. Her return to the Ministry may have seemed like a shock to its community, but to her, it was inevitable. Yet, she had never intended to arrive in such a dramatic fashion... staking a priest amongst his fellow congregation had never been part of the plan. Arriving at the Ministry after midnight had seemed like a cunning idea... but unfortunately for her, this particular night had happened to be a midnight mass, and unfortunately for her, her crow companion had swooped into the cathedral, following the scent of a bloodthirsty kind of creature - which it was incredibly accustomed to detecting - and once it had pointed out the vampire in the crowd, Aemelia was hardly going to ignore its existence...
She sighed again, shaking her head in amused disbelief. Her night couldn’t have gone much worse, but she supposed that seeing Copia in a state of silent alarm had taken the edge off slightly... even if she was utterly confused about why he’d been wearing deep blue robes that had been eerily similar to an overly polished mirror ball... but of course, she had her suspicions about some sort of promotion.
She blinked out of her thoughts, and it was lucky that she did, because she almost missed the entrance to the older complex. The crow had already flown far ahead of her like it had known exactly where she’d wanted to go, and she squinted her eyes, trying her best to distinguish its form amongst the dim light of the narrow corridor. She’d forgotten how dingy and ominous the old building was, but she’d missed its winding hallways and candle-lit walls. It was comforting to be walking around the place again, the darkness seemed like the shadowy embrace of an old friend and she fearlessly delved further into the thin sheet of blackness. Candle light bounced from her eyes as she studied the walls around her, trying to make sense of where she was exactly... and soon, it was clear to her.
She could just make out a door coming up on her right... a door that was wedged shut and covered in messy sprawls of thick black tape, nailed wooden boards and a few snaking stainless steel chains. A scowl graced her brow and she slowed her strides, her black irises shining with curiosity. As the door grew closer and closer, her frown deepened and she eventually halted, trying to understand what she was suddenly hearing.
Little grunts of effort emerged from somewhere down below and she glared her eyes in confusion, peering at the slabstone floor beneath her feet. There, straining as he tried to yank something plastic and rectangular over the floor, was Copia’s demonic familiar, Nekid. He wheezed out in exhaustion but persisted his actions, his pale grey skin and bleach white mohawk stark amongst the darkness. Despite his tiny, slender, naked form, Miss Vial noticed that he seemed to have gained an inch in height and her startled confusion vanished, her mirth-filled eyes observing his impressive efforts. He was so set on pulling the oblong item along the floor that he didn’t appear to notice her presence, his needle-like teeth meshing as he tugged on its rounded plastic edges. His spindly arms pulled and pulled and the more Miss Vial observed, the more she realised that the item in his grasp appeared to be some kind of video game case . She could tell from its shiny cover and rounded edges and she felt the corners of her mouth curling upwards.
Not wishing to alert the little imp, she decided to glance towards the door they were stood beside. She only just recognised that it was the door to Copia’s office because it was partially obscured by the tangled mess of tape, boards and chains that covered it, and to her surprise, the deterrents seemed rather pointless because the door appeared to be slightly ajar... and it was clear, due to Nekid’s location, that he had likely caused the little gap in the door frame.
Nekid let out one last loud grunt of effort and blew a raspberry in frustration, ending his struggle by releasing the edge of the game case from his tiny mitts. It clattered to the ground, lying flat like a heavy stone tablet. Nekid growled behind his teeth and crossed his arms over, narrowing his mismatched eyes as he violently turned his back on it with a huff...
And that’s when he realised that a shadow was falling over him.
He raised his head and gasped, pressing his slender hands against the sides of his oval head as he gawped at the woman who was towering over him. He eyed Miss Vial in horror, like he was witnessing some kind of ghost... a tiny noxious toot of fright escaped him.
"Meeeh-Maah-Meeeees Vial?!" he shrieked, jumping backwards so that he could attempt to cower behind the thin video game case. The sudden movements of the imp caused Aemelia to narrow her eyes in confusion but she nodded in reluctant agreement.
"Mm-hm, yep, it’s me." she grumbled, shaking her head in subdued amusement before she cautiously side-stepped around his seven inch form.
"Wait! No no! You are no pretty ghostie! You are real! Ahhh! Get your thicc ass back here!” he cried after her, but she continued to navigate the darkness and he let out an excited gasp when he eagerly began to follow her. “What are you doing here?! Does ratto know you are here?! Should I tell him?! Flaghhhh! His bladder is going to explode with excitement, eheeh!"
She ignored the patter of his small feet – which were quickly gaining on her - and confidently strode through the rest of the hallway, closing her ears to Nekid’s hysterical rambles. She thought the crass familiar’s amazement was rather sweet and unexpected, but she didn’t respond to a single thing he was babbling out, focused on powering ahead. And thankfully, it wasn’t long before she arrived at her destination.
The door to the apothecary was exactly like she’d remembered: ancient, heavy and overly varnished. And her crow companion was already stood waiting for her, hopping from foot to foot over the stone floor below. She briefly raised a brow at the bird’s actions, oblivious to whatever Nekid was still chattering about as she stooped down towards the door handle, firmly latching her hand around it. She tried twisting and pulling a few times but it seemed like the mechanism was jammed and she growled in slight annoyance, elbowing the wooden surface of the door to see if it would make a difference... but sadly, it didn’t.
"Eheheheh ohh noooo, Mees Vial!” Nekid suddenly exclaimed, his little warm hand clutching at the black material of one of her trouser sleeves as he peeked around her leg. “You won’t get in there! Ratto had locks installed a few weeks after you left. I guess he wanted to preserve its contents. He can be so sentimental sometimes, bleugh! Gak, what a paranoid, senile ratto!”
She frowned at Nekid’s strangely helpful information and dropped her hand away to inspect the door handle. She realised that it was brand new, formed out of heavy duty stainless steel and coated in specks of silver. Keeping her black eyes on the object, she slid a hand beneath the hem of her blazer, fumbling with a belt that was hidden from view.
“You feeling kinky already, Mees Vial?” Nekid teased with a titter, peering up her trouser-leg with a mischievous grin. She rolled her eyes at his comment and continued her actions, eventually fishing out a thin, twisted piece of black wire. And with that, she leaned forwards, starting to expertly pick the lock.
"Oooh, breaking and entering looks so sexy on you, ehek!” the little imp rasped, chuckling to himself as he squeezed his arms around one of her legs to ensure that he was latched onto her. “So... how you been all this time? Slayed any hot vampires lately? I got real busy with this fangy bitch since you've been gone and ooooof, she had a super squishy rack! I am glad to have hot vampire chick off my bucket list.” Nekid chattered, pressing his needle-like teeth into a wicked grin. "I am veeeery surprised to see you back here at all. Not many people can say they survived the whole buried alive thing, ehekhek!"
Her lock picking abruptly halted and she grasped the wire tightly in her fist. Then she swiftly bent down to glare her black eyes into the tiny, blinking imp, who peered up at her innocently, baffled by the animosity she adorned.
"Don't you dare say a word about that. Especially to Copia." she murmured softly, though her eyes hammered into him like stiletto daggers. "I don't care how you know. But I care about you talking so freely about something I really don't want anyone else knowing, so shut the fuck up, alright?
Nekid's eyes widened and he shrunk into the floor, his small hands tightly grasping onto the material of her trouser-leg. A relieved gulp escaped him as she stood up straight to continue her lock-picking and she shook her head in disapproval.
"R-Ratto?! Whaaaa? Why would I tell him this? It is valuable blackmail information! I could get some serious mula out of him for not telling him!" he squeaked, his wide, glossy eyes peering up at her.
"You'r e ripping him off... why I am not surprised?” she muttered darkly, the wire in her grasp scratching the insides of the lock. “But you’re never going to actually tell him what happened, right?”
"Naaa, I do not plan on telling him that his mama tried to murder you, that would be fucking... ruuuuude! And... it would really set him back a couple weeks.” he explained with a sad, needle-toothed grin. “Ratto hasn’t been the same since you left. He's very antsy and... goes through red wine like... I go through sisters’ panties, ehek. Ahh, he is a shameful, senile ratto. Too pathetic to be a true Papa."
She wanted to ask the familiar more about his last sentence, but before she could, the lock clunked and she quickly slipped the gnarled bit of wire into the inside pockets of her blazer. She dropped her head and shot Nekid a threatening stare. He glared up at her and reluctantly let go of her leg, tittering nervously.
"So, I can trust you to keep your little gob shut?" she whispered, charcoal irises piercing into him. She was a little concerned that she was technically forging a deal with the infamously mischievous Nekid, but for some reason, she got the feeling that she could actually rely on him keeping his mouth shut for once. Especially if it meant he could milk money out of his summoner.
"Yiiis yiiiis, I promise!" he quickly replied through a toothy smile, his large eyes shining with surprise as he toppled back, his butt landing over the stone floor with an echoing slap.
"Good. Now fuck off, I need to settle in... alone."
She twisted the door handle and the whole door let out a shudder...
"Waiiiiit, wait! Before you go, Miss Vial! Could... could you help me with my game... I really wanted to play Zelda today but the case is a lot bigger than I remember and - "
She huffed and abruptly draped out her right arm, pointing towards the direction of Copia’s barricaded office, and the crow that had been patiently loitering, obediently followed the motion of her fingers. Nekid flinched at the flap of its wings but gawped, amazed by its presence as it soared through the darkness.
“He’ll carry your game for you.” she said simply. “But you owe him. And me.”
Nekid giggled gleefully and immediately shot up from the floor to patter after the bird enthusiastically, shaking his behind from side to side as he went. Aemelia rolled her eyes at the lack of gratitude but she decided not to dwell on it and elbowed her way into her faithful workplace.
When she finally entered the apothecary... it was like she’d never left. She closed the door behind herself and leaned against it, trailing her dark eyes over the contents. It was hard to make out anything due to the shadow of night, but she could see that it was exactly the same. The shelves were tidy, filled with labelled jars, tethered boxes and spotless mixing containers. The alchemy station - which still occupied the majority of the modest room – was the only item that appeared to have a thin layer of dust and she winced in contemplation. Her eyes settled at the back of the place and she admired the rays of moonlight that poked through the red and opal shards of the small stain-glass window that was located there.
She’d missed the apothecary more than she’d been willing to admit, and she took a step forwards, sighing out in relief. She was glad that everything she’d collected was still there, and she was even more glad that the shelves, the alchemy station, the central fire pit, the collection of glass containers... all of it, was completely untouched, like she’d never been away.
As she strode to the very centre of the room, she slowly swivelled around, taking in everything to make sure she wasn’t just dreaming. But sure enough, it was real. Although the place was exactly as she’d remembered it... she couldn’t help sensing that there was something new that hadn’t been there before. She’d only noticed the feeling now that she’d slowly spun around, and sure enough, her eyes soon settled upon it. There, to the right of the door, neatly tucked into one of the few spaces left in the small room, was what appeared to be a make-shift shrine.
Her eyebrows knitted together but her eyes softened as she studied the short stack of books and scriptures, which supported a plethora of wilted flower petals, scribbled notes and newspaper clippings. And then, on top of that, there were a few pots containing crimson candles that were still burning away like they’d only just been lit. Even though the shrine was small, it made her eyes shine sadly and she let out a humble huff, unsure what to make of the sight... but she couldn’t ignore that there was a slight ache in her chest.
Its flickering presence made her feel like she’d been welcomed back somehow, and for that, she was immensely grateful.
5 : The Klutzy Congregation
Sitting in the Ministry’s draughty assembly room was the last thing Aemelia Vial expected to be doing during the afternoon of the next day. Surrounded by a Clergy of sour-faced strangers - that Papa had likely hand-picked – she sat stiffly, resting her elbows over the comfy velvet arms of a dining chair, the golden glow of candelabras that lined the surface in front of her casting dark shadows over her pallid features. Amongst the disgruntled scowls that littered each side of the impressive table were faces that she briefly recognised. She got the feeling that they were the more stubborn members of the Clergy that Copia hadn’t managed to shake off. She scoffed back an amused huff and lowered her black irises to the rosewood surface of the dining table, wishing to avoid the fresh, accusing eyes of the Clergy.
Despite the stern expressions and inquisitive eyes of those present, she was pleasantly surprised that she was surrounded by a diverse panel of people. Instead of the overwhelming number of elderly men that had dominated Nihil’s Clergy, there was a mixture of all kinds of people. Middle-aged strong-minded sisters, quiet, unassuming stone-faced cardinals, a handful of cafeteria and infirmary staff, a variety of fresh-faced priests – including Father Ramio, who appeared to have had quite a make-over since Aemelia had last seen him - and a couple of teenage Siblings who were almost at the vital age of vow making.
Considering her sudden arrival the day prior, she was confused why she had been summoned to a staff meeting so soon. She’d been tempted to simply ignore such a request, but then, she didn’t want to seem closed minded. She could sense that her presence had caused the tension that hung in the air and she could feel the icy stares upon her even as she bored her eyes into the table. The drone of a cardinal’s voice echoed about the place and the silence of his associates let her know that everyone was invested in whatever he was saying. But she wasn’t at all, and she sighed, deciding that she was in for a long evening of drivel, and so, she allowed herself to slouch down into a more comfortable position, unaware that Sister Imperator’s observant gaze was slicing into her from the opposite end of the table. Even though she felt less uneasy with the company surrounding her than the previous occasion that she had sat at such a table, she still felt like a despised outsider.
Soon, to Aemelia’s relief, the cardinal who had been speaking finally appeared to arrive at the end of his rant and murmurs erupted around the table. Most sounded agreeable, but the odd one sounded skeptical. Another voice she didn’t recognise swiftly piped up to have their say on something and Aemelia rolled her eyes, lifting her head to survey the rest of the table to keep herself occupied... if she didn’t she was sure that she would have started to drift off to sleep. She trailed her disinterested eyes over the faces of the Clergy until she reached the very end of the table... and she froze, hardening her eyes venomously. She stared at the spacious spot where Copia was prodigally located, and he was twinkling away in his papal robes as he silently sat atop his unhallowed throne. He appeared to be engaged in the conversation even though he hadn’t spoken a word and she narrowed her eyes in contemplation.
She wondered whether he even knew that she was present... and then immediately scolded herself for being so stupid. Of course he must have known that she was there... who else would have summoned her to such an event? It certainly wasn’t any of the strangers sat around her... and it definitely wasn’t Imperator’s doing. Not wanting to alert him to her presence, she swiftly lowered her head again, averting her eyes to the table’s surface. She continued to keep a low profile for a few minutes, purposely closing her ears to the conversation to stop herself dying of boredom.
However, after a few minutes, the success rate of her silent obliviousness was dwindling, for Copia started to lose interest in the new topic of conversation and subtly regarded his table of subordinates. His curious eyes raced ahead of him as he looked further and further away from him, and once he surveyed the other end of the table, he was immediately drawn to a familiar snippet of wine-red hair. The unexpected sight of the swinging ends of Aemelia’s burgundy plaits caused his gloved hands to firmly grasp the arms of his throne, the telling creak of leather giving away his slight distress.
Now fully aware of her quiet presence, his thoughts began to drown out the Clergy’s conversation and his mismatched gaze lingered upon her, his heart thumping in his ears. His exhales became long and deep and he just managed to keep his breathing quiet so that no one would notice his sudden bout of yearning. However, he couldn’t hide the fact he was staring at her. Luckily, everyone’s attention appeared to be on the person who was speaking at that particular moment. So he continued to gaze at her with blatant longing, amazed that she was even present. He’d been too busy – nervous, more like – to approach her in person, but sending a Ghoul with an invitation to the weekly staff meeting had been a convenient stroke of genius. He never thought she would actually turn up... and now that he was actually observing her from afar, he suddenly felt a lot warmer.
He’d only managed to catch a glimpse of her the day before, and now that she was a lot closer to him, he could study her more successfully. A few more lines had appeared over the pale features of her face since he last saw her and her hair was significantly longer, for the ends of her plaits draped down to settle over the lapels of her black blazer. Her dark eyes were focused on the table but their hypnotic gleam was unmistakable. Her deadpan expression gave away her discomfort regarding the situation and he furrowed his brow slightly, hoping that she would glance his way so that she would see his expression of reassurance... but she never did.
He could tell that he wasn’t the only one that was deeply affected by Aemelia Vial’s presence because the atmosphere around the table was unusually sombre. By the time ten minutes of the meeting had passed, the entire table was usually in raucous discussion, yet today it was deathly silent. But Copia welcomed the quiet so that he could focus on trailing his eyes over the shape of her face, hoping that he was suppressing his deep exhales enough to be ignored.
He allowed himself to concentrate on her for a good few minutes whether people noticed his fixation or not, silently grateful that conversation was still the focus of his subordinates. And being so caught up in observing the apathetic alchemist, he failed to realise that the topic of the discussion had shifted to something rather important...
“Yes, but I feel that it is part of our duty to keep them safe.” one of the eldest sisters declared, passionately disagreeing with whoever had been speaking prior. “They are still children and they will not learn if we do not hinder their mischief. We cannot allow them to wander the halls at night, the undercroft is still under renovation and we need to make sure its unholiness is preserved and honoured respectfully. Children running rampant is hardly respectful, cardinal.”
"They may be young and foolish, but I say that we allow them to have their fun." one of the stern-faced cardinals retorted, readjusting the black biretta clutching to his head of silver hair. His comment seemed to encourage murmurs of agreement and Aemelia shifted in her seat, trying to resist voicing her disagreement. She settled over the chair by straightening her back, narrowing her eyes in annoyance as her hands searched the lining of her blazer pockets. Eventually, she fished out one of her pre-rolled cigarettes and slotted it between her grey lips, trying to distract herself as best she could... but her actions only seemed to fuel her desire to play devil’s advocate. She raised her head, ready to address the murmuring Clergy, firmly setting aside her role of the mysterious outsider.
"Young or not, nobody with a pulse should be in spitting distance of that fuckin' place." she confidently declared, raising her voice to ensure that she would be heard over the subdued chatter. The whole table dried up into silence and she continued her actions like nobody was watching, fishing out a match from her pockets. She lifted up a leg and rested it over her lap, striking the match against the side of her shoe. The atmosphere grew cold and awkward when she cupped a hand around her face, pressing the fresh flickering flame to the end of her cigarette. Once she shook out the match and spewed out the first lot of opal smoke from her mouth, most heads turned to Papa, all of them expecting him to scold her for blatantly ignoring the rules of the Ministry by smoking indoors... but he didn’t utter a sound and simply persisted to gaze at her in silent apprehension.
"Surely you can’t all be this surprised? Well... it’s reassuring to know that none of you have bothered to have a look for yourselves.” she continued darkly, briefly pausing to puff out another cloud of cigarette smoke. “The undercroft is filled to the rafters with vampires. And I'm not talking about the fuckers that are our size. These ones are huge and... hard to forget in a hurry."
"How would you know? You only just started here." a youthful sister cut in, squinting her skeptical, disapproving brown eyes at the rebellious resident alchemist. Aemelia tilted her head and turned slightly to acknowledge the woman sincerely, taking another long drag before she rested her elbow on the edge of the table, poising the smouldering cigarette between a couple of slender fingers.
"Because before I left here six months ago, I was well aware that the place was ridden with those blood thralls.” she explained in an irritated tone, lowering her eyes to the table to stop herself shooting daggers at Sister Imperator. “And unfortunately, they're still down there because I was fuckin' fired before I could get rid of the bastards."
Most of the table – including Imperator – shot their bewildered eyes towards Copia like Miss Vial’s blunt manner was somehow his fault. It was clear that they wanted him to scold her or at the very least, intervene. But he continued to silently observe her like he was caught up in some sort of spell, from his peaceful expression it was clear that he was content being lost in her.
"Were you aware of this, your Dark Excellency?" Father Ramio asked in a timid voice, his shrill tone causing many more heads to turn Copia’s way. They squinted at their Papa expectantly and he blinked a few times like he was only just leaving a vivid daydream, anxiously shuffling over his seat.
"Hm... what? What did you say?” he murmured softly, his frown deepening as his bewildered eyes flicked from face to face, hoping their stern expressions would give him some form of answer.
"Were you aware of the undercroft's vampire infestation?" Sister Imperator snapped from the right side of the table, her unnerving gaze scolding him. He anxiously trailed his eyes to the unimpressed woman – he took a mental note that he should probably have her moved further down the table when the next meeting came around, he didn’t like his mother being so close to him – and his back stiffened. He glared at her as innocently as he could and knitted his eyebrows together, shaking his head.
"No, no... I am afraid that I was not aware of... that. It is news to me.” he smoothly lied in an airy, virtuous tone. “But... now that... Miss Vial has - ahem - returned, I am certain that the situation will be appropriately dealt with. Until then... Father Ramio, I want you to patrol the surrounding corridors at night time to make sure the kiddies do not go down there, ok?"
"Oh yes, of course, your Dark Excellency!” the grey eyed priest exclaimed, beaming from ear to ear. “Glad to help however I can.”
“Scusi... how can you be so sure of Miss Vial, your Dark Excellency? She has only just returned to the Ministry, and has had no time to prove herself.” a confident sister sat across from the smoking alchemist spoke up, tilting her head to shoot Papa an inquisitive stare. Papa swiftly turned his head towards the sister and his eyes seemed to harden with annoyance, but his face dropped into a mask of indifference. To most, his underlying irritation was missed, but to some, it was as plain as day. He seared his mismatched eyes into the brave sister and relaxed his gloves over the arms of his throne, confident with his reply.
“Then I guess you were not present at yesterday’s sermon, sister?” he quietly asked in a strange, soft, disapproving tone. “Miss Vial made quite the spectacle. But she assessed the situation and simply reacted. She acted quickly and staked the shit out of Father Velus... he turned to dust in front of our eyes. He was a traitor, sister. A... bitey... crafty... heartless son of a bitch that deserved the shame of the spectacle, ok? He had been wriggling his way into our Clergy for months... completely undetected. It could have been veeery nasty for us if he had been allowed to live any longer... I never liked the guy anyways, guess it must have been the whole vampire-y aura thing that made me feel... icky.”
There was an awkward, unsettling pause where the only sound in the room was Aemelia Vial spewing out another cloud of wispy white smoke. Unlike the baffled Clergy that surrounded her, she didn’t appear to give a damn about what Copia was saying, but she reluctantly allowed her dark eyes to trail towards him, slowly settling her gaze on the rosewood panelling behind him. It was her stubborn way of acknowledging him without giving him a slither of her attention.
“You’re lucky that I found him when I did. Another few days and the Ministry would have been his hunting grounds. He’d have leeched blood off us all while we slept.” she stated gravely, her face completely vacant of emotion. “And I doubt any of you would have enjoyed that. So please, like Ca - Papa has already said, make sure everybody steers clear of the undercroft. Leave the vampires to me... as soon as I’m able, I’ll make sure I get rid of every single one of ‘em.”
6 : The Seemingly Harmless Temptation
The uncomfortable awkwardness of the staff meeting seemed to linger throughout the day, hours after the tiresome gathering. Even going on eleven at night, discomfort hung in the tepid air of the Ministry like the very corridors of the place could sense something awkward on the horizon, and they were wise in their feeling. As the hallways grew desolate and both the Clergy and Siblings of Sin retired to their respective rooms for the night, their Papa was doing the same... and was perhaps a little too content with his own company for the evening.
Picking up his cell phone to text her as he basked in the luxurious comfort of his personal quarters seemed like a safe temptation. But then, he’d thought the same about the couple of bottles of red wine he’d already emptied. Copia was undeniably tipsy as he idly sprawled across one of the plush velvet loungers in front of the crackling fireplace, adorning nothing but a long burgundy smoking jacket that finished just above his knees. His head was snugly supported by an array of muddled cushions and his hair was cleanly slicked back, appearing a little darker due to damp particles clutching to each lock of chestnut hair. From the smudges of black that circled his eyes and the odd black blemish that stained the thin lines of his lips, it was clear that he’d not long showered, though the pink that tinged his cheeks gave away his recent wine-drinking.
He was holding his smart phone far too close to his fuzzy mismatched eyes, and the vibrant glow of the screen lit up his chiselled features. Its glow seemed to waver between dim and bright as he used the tip of a bare finger to clumsily scroll the screen upwards and his eyes widened in fascination. He searched the long list of phone numbers for the one he’d added earlier, and the more he scrolled, the more his mouth started to crawl into a crumpled smile of excitement.
Acquiring Aemelia Vial’s phone number had been far too easy, and though he had sworn to himself that he wouldn’t use it to contact her directly, he was no longer sober, and suddenly contacting her seemed like an incredibly brilliant idea. In his skewed, tipsy mind, he only saw the positive outcomes of doing such a thing... after all, it was the best way he could approach her without having to look her in the eyes or utter a word. And the best part was that his words would simply be attached to an alien number on her phone screen. He could say whatever he liked to her - anonymously - without fear of nervously stuttering his way through some embarrassing conversation.
Confidence oozed from him once he caught sight of a black heart emoji – which he’d insisted on putting beside her name - and he eagerly scrolled back to it, ignoring the presence of a few rows of numbers until he could see Cipolletta plainly labelled before his eyes. He cleared his throat, shuffled himself over the cushions of the lounger to make sure that he was a little more comfortable and then tapped the screen once. The message box immediately plastered over the screen in front of him and his throat suddenly felt extremely dry. He was already filled with nerves despite his confident manner and raised his free hand to his face, gently grazing a couple of fingers beneath his chin in contemplation.
Although texting her had sounded like an amazing, achievable idea... he had no idea what to say to her. He certainly didn’t want to type something that would give away his identity... so he decided on avoiding anything too deep or meaningful. As he huffed out in quiet, frustrated thought, he pouted in contemplation, squinting his eyes at the indecisive flash of the black text cursor. He continued to hesitate for quite some time, trying his best to focus on something to say to her... and eventually, he did indeed come to a decision.
He awkwardly shuffled over the cushions again, but settled on sitting upright this time. His bare thumbs tapped the plastic of the phone screen and he dipped his head low, nervously re-reading every single word he managed to type. And eventually, once his string of words formed a substantial sentence, he scrolled all the way back to the beginning, reading it over a couple of times to ensure that there were no mistakes or any little clues that may have hinted at who the sender was... and content that it was free of both, he shrugged, let out a satisfied sigh... and finally hit send.
"Hello there, mysterious, sexy alchemist. I seem to have a real hunger problem. You think your muffin could be my filling?”
He dropped his phone onto the cushions beside his head and peered his wide, anxious eyes at the tall ceiling above him, trying to find some way to distract himself from thinking about the message he’d just sent. Despite how nervous he was about receiving a message in return, he was rather proud of what he’d managed to come up with, regardless of how cheesy it was, and he sighed, focusing on the reassuring crackle of the fireplace to distract himself some more. But soon, his heart began to race with concern and he clenched his teeth together, his head falling back against the sofa’s muddled cushions when he squeezed his eyes shut.
After a few minutes of a suspenseful lack of response, he started to feel regretful. His arms draped by his sides and his hands balled into fists... why he thought texting her such a risqué thing was good idea, he would never know. There was no way she would respond to such a salacious text that had arrived completely out of the blue. He started to mentally scold himself... he should have been plain with her, told her how much he had missed her, how much he wanted to catch up with her, how he wished he wasn’t so integral to the Ministry now that she had returned... but of course, he could hardly redeem himself by sending a follow up text now. He supposed he would just have to deal with the consequences.
And to his anxious surprise, consequences arrived sooner than he expected. After a gut-wrenching few minutes of tense embarrassment, his phone abruptly buzzed and his message tone – which happened to be a snippet of harmonies from the chorus of Rats played on a plastic kazoo – filled his quarters, echoing from wall to wall. He scrambled to sit up over the scatters of cushions littering his lounger and clumsily snatched hold of his phone, letting out a grunt of effort when he finally managed to sit in a somewhat upright position.
Once he unlocked his phone screen, his heart began to flutter and he swallowed, eagerly tapping the notification on his inbox. He started to blush profusely once her message flashed into existence and he drew out his long, heavy breaths, raising the phone to his face so that he could read her message closely with intoxicated, squinting eyes.
"Sex is cool and all... but so are stakes Copia. I’m busy working so go pester someone else.” her text read, with a middle finger emoji appropriately tagged at the end. Overlooking the fact she didn’t seem remotely interested in his sexting, his heart pounded at the sight of his own name. He was shocked that she had already figured out that he was the sender of such a text... but her deduction only proved to him that she still knew him incredibly well. He wore a soft crooked smile and slouched back into the cushions, holding his phone beneath his chin whilst he frantically typed his response, desperate to seize the opportunity of her attention before it slipped away from him. Too excited and erratic with his thumb presses, he ended up making quite a few errors and once he’d completed his message, he tried to scroll back to scan the words for any mistakes. But he was in such a nervous state that his fingers slipped and he accidentally hit send instead.
"I am just checkinf I hace the correct bumber. It appeals that I have. Thank you for confirming that for me Miss Vile.” he’d hurriedly responded, concluding the reply with a couple of eye emojis. And almost immediately after it had sent, he narrowed his eyes at the published message on the screen, his expression suddenly turning to one of anxious horror.
“Ah shit! I didn’t mean to fucking... press send. Ah well... who cares?” he muttered to himself, clutching his phone to his chest. He closed his eyes and was hopeful, nervously awaiting some form of reply to know that she wasn’t ignoring him. But after some time, it was clear that he was never going to get a reply... so after very little deliberation, he mustered up the drunken courage to call her instead.
He continued to squeeze his eyes shut as he pressed the phone to his right ear, the dial tone sounding lonelier and lonelier the longer it went on. He muttered curses to himself, blaming his careless fingers and spelling errors for the reason she wasn’t picking up. And eventually, the dial tone came to an end, but to his subdued delight, he appeared to have reached her voice mail. He revelled in the sound of her poorly recorded voice and his nerves calmed in an instant, though his breaths had noticeably become a lot shorter.
Once the beep sounded, the line was live and he parted his mouth, nervously licking his lips.
“Ahm... hello. It’s me... your... Papa, heh heh... or Copia... whatever. You can... you can call me whatever you like. I just wanted to say that you... looked really fucking sexy today, you know? I would... definitely have... tapped your ass if you would have let me. If you’re feeling a little... lonely like I am right now... you could always... come here, to my chamber... heh heh... i-if... if you wanted. We could - “
He shuffled the phone a little as he let out a huff of hesitation, but in doing so, he brushed the middle of the screen against one of his side-burns and it caused the recording to abruptly shut off. At the sound of a contemptuous beep, he swiftly took the phone away from his ear and glared at it like it had burned him, lightly growling in frustration. Even though he hadn’t finished his bumbling message, it was clear that Aemelia would grasp what he was trying to say. It was clear from his rich, persuasive tone, the airy quality to his manner of speaking and the rather brazen admission of his penchant for her, that he was somewhat tipsy... it was unlikely she would ever acknowledge such a message.
And sure enough, he didn’t receive any form of response from her.
However, even by the time midnight arrived, he was still slouched over the lounger, patiently waiting for a reply. And it seemed now that he had been left to sit in suspense for a while, he was in quite a peaceful state of arousal. His mind was awash with obscene fantasies about her and although he was desperate for her to reply to him, he was content living in his vivid daydreams for a little while longer. But to his relief, a response did eventually arrive and as soon as his phone loudly notified him, he swiped it up from the lounger’s cushions, fumbling with it until he had the screen directly in front of his face.
"Fuck off. I’m on a case. It’s an emergency so I’m busy. You could have used voice mail to actually talk to me but instead you let your dick talk for you. How typical.”
He glared his eyes and was struck with immediate concern for the case she had vaguely mentioned, frantically tapping the screen until he found the call button. Once he started the fresh call to her, he pressed the phone to his ear again, his worried mismatched eyes searching the elaborate ceiling above. This time, it only rang a few times before abruptly cutting off and he scowled in annoyance, sliding his phone away from his face to narrow his eyes at the screen in irritation.
Before he could press the call sign to try again, his message tone went off and he jumped out of his skin, his hand only just managing to keep hold of his phone. He tried to keep his breathing steady and squinted his eyes at the screen again, hoping that she had sent him a reassuring message...
"How the fuck did you even get this number?" her reply read.
He expelled an anxious sigh and his thumbs were frantically tapping away again, white lies effortlessly forming from the flicks of his fingertips. His mismatched eyes were wide with concentration and he breathed out a deep breath, ignoring the inkling of guilt that was subtly tugging away at his chest.
"I needed to put down someone as a spare emergency contact. And I didn’t want to add Sister Imperator.” he swiftly lied, hoping that she wouldn’t smell a rat. But considering the prompt arrival of her next reply, he could only assume that she had...
“Sure you did. Stop trying to call me. You can text or call when you have the balls to actually speak to me in person. You had the chance during the shitshow meeting earlier. But you were silent. Even the clergy seemed surprised that you didn’t have the balls to speak to me. Until you can talk to me in person, leave me the fuck alone.”
Despite her bitter, hostile comments, his heart pounded in hopeful excitement. A small crumpled smile swept across his mouth and he settled on reading her last message over and over, imagining the intensity of her voice when she said such passionate, snide words. And the more he imagined the soothing sound of her soft cockney accent and her deadpan, grumbling tone, he was suddenly desperately wishing that he could muster the courage to approach her in person...
7 : The Perfect Excuse
The office of Papa Emeritus IV wasn’t much different to the one he’d previously had when he was a cardinal, it was just... bigger. It was dim and cladded in varnished rosewood panelling, chandeliers bearing iron sconces were filled with smouldering candles and seemed imposing as they loomed overhead. Heaps of paper and card that consisted of requests from Siblings, bill transfers and fan mail scattered the surface of an elaborate bureau – which was found at the very centre of the long, spacious room and appeared to be the only new addition to the old-fashioned office – and obscured most of the floor from view. Faded silk drapes hung from crooked beams that supported the tall ceiling, framing the anti-pope’s ox-blood leather armchair – which was snugly located behind the bureau - with a subdued backdrop of navy blue that complemented his decorative robes rather well.
After the embarrassing drunken shambles that was his wine-fuelled sexting the night prior, Papa was eager to lose himself in his work so that he didn’t have to dwell on his actions. It was early afternoon and he’d already spent most of the day slaving away behind his desk. He was stubbornly set on avoiding the Ministry’s corridors because he was convinced that there was a chance he would bump into Miss Vial... he wouldn’t have been able to hide his squirm as he became victim to her cold, unimpressed gaze. And he definitely didn’t want his subordinates noticing such a thing... he’d worked incredibly hard since his ascension. He’d managed to persuade and reassure many now that he was the embodiment of their faith, and on top of that, he’d also managed to gain their eyes, ears and most importantly, their trust. His subordinates wouldn’t have been impressed if they’d seen him crumble and fall due to the resident alchemist. All of his efforts would have gone to waste... and he would have never lived it down. Therefore, he was confidently content with his avoidance and his work, for once.
A golden set of thin reading glasses clutched to the bridge of his nose as he slumped forwards in his armchair, hovering himself over a splay of important forms. His quill scratches were nimbly faint and occasional as he trailed his mismatched eyes over the lines of text in front of him. It was the first day he’d actually found his paperwork duties fairly easy to focus on, and he was quite thankful because he’d accumulated quite a lot over the months, so the more he slogged through, the better. He let out a little sigh every so often and carefully dipped the nib of his quill into an inkwell that was located to the right of the desk, cautiously escorting it back down until the end rested over the paper below.
He continued to work, even when the door to his office slowly creaked open, oblivious to the elegant strides of a strapping chrome-masked Ghoul that had entered. After reaching the centre of the room, the Ghoul came to a gentle stop in front of the bureau. And then he bowed, regardless of his master’s obliviousness, effortlessly balancing a thin black tray – which happened to be supporting a steaming hot cup of caramel-topped mocha – over the splayed fingers of his left hand. Carefully stooping downwards, he set the hot drink down, ensuring it lined up with a collection of faded coffee rings that stained a thick stack of papers beside the inkwell.
After completing his task, he clutched the empty tray to his chest. Then he smoothly – and silently – spun around to face the door, lowering his head in respect of whoever was now stood there. With his free hand, he beckoned them like he was encouraging them to enter and once a few timid little footsteps thumped over the paper-clad floor, the Ghoul turned again, obediently pulling out one of two weathered leather armchairs that were situated on the opposite side of the bureau to Papa. Once the considerably smaller sister managed to anxiously shuffle onto the armchair, the Ghoul bowed his head again and pushed the chair closer.
Copia hadn’t so much as lifted his head, and though he continued to read and murmur to himself, he briefly raised a grateful gloved hand to acknowledge the Ghoul’s polite actions like he had witnessed the entire exchange. When he lowered his hand back down to settle over the desk, the Ghoul immediately hurried off, gently closing the door after himself to leave Papa and the small sister in peace.
From her slight size and immaculate black habit, it was clear that the sister was one of the new, fresh-faced teenagers that had only recently arrived at the Ministry in the past few months. She sat in the chair stiffly and glared her wide hazel eyes into the paper-strewn floor beneath her feet. She acted like she was sat in front a school principal and swallowed nervously, subtly wringing her hands together. She was thankful that Papa appeared to be caught up in his work and she actually wished that he continued to ignore her presence... as much as the man had been reassuring, supportive and ever so kind to her since she had known him, his powerful position and rat-paint made her feel anxiously unsettled.
“Hello there, Manon.” he suddenly spoke in a somewhat kind but distant tone. She was surprised that he knew she was present and awkwardly shuffled over the armchair, nervously readjusting the thin cowl that covered her short stringy ginger hair. “Sister Livia was very concerned for you when I spoke to her this morning. You have been missing her classes, what’s up with that?”
Manon’s cheeks reddened and she gulped, defiantly squeezing her eyes shut. She had known why she had been summoned to Papa’s office before she had even set foot in there, and she loathed the situation entirely. She felt ridiculous and pathetic... she knew that Papa had far worse problems to deal with compared to her. She couldn’t understand why he was so interested in her voicing her issues, but then Manon had never understood how to think things over. She seemed to overlook the fact that the menacing-looking Papa sat opposite her was the same man that had saved her from a living hell nine months prior...
“You don’t want to talk about that... okie dokie.” he mumbled with a light sigh, gently setting his quill over a visible bit of desk space that was poking out from a scatter of half-finished documents. “What have you been learning in her classes anyways? She comes across... kind of... eh... boring. I am always very afraid I will start snoring when I talk to her one day...”
His words seemed to ease her slightly because she relaxed her shoulders and she timidly let out a breathy chuckle. He raised his head from his desk and though he didn’t smile, he peered at her through the lenses of his reading glasses, his crow's-feet crinkling in amusement. Her head was still lowered in avoidance and he masked a huff of slight frustration.
“W-We learn biology.” Manon murmured nervously, her cheeks reddening now that she was certain she had his attention.
“Biology, huh? Well that’s fucking cool... a shame you got someone so shitty teaching you. I guess I could always give her a few pointers to liven up the lessons.” he joked, lowering his eyes to focus on his hot cup of coffee. He seized hold of the cup and dipped his head down, bringing the rim to his lips so that he could take a loud, satisfying slurp.
“But somehow... I do not think Sister Livia would be very happy about the idea of teaching the biology involved in necromancy... heh heh.” he added impishly in a strained whisper, closing his eyes when he took another loud sip. “Is that why you didn’t show at her classes this past week? She makes you feel sleepy?”
“I-I do not feel... safe.” she anxiously admitted, her voice only just audible because she had her chin tucked into her chest. Papa’s armchair creaked as he sat up straight, her words instantly seizing his casual demeanour away from him. His expression became stern and he squinted his eyes at the surface of his desk when he raised the edge of his coffee cup to his lips again. Once he had taken another warm sip, he smoothly lowered the drink to the bureau, his eyes softening when they settled upon the trembling twelve-year-old, who was still purposely avoiding his mismatched stare.
"You do not feel safe here?" Copia asked in a slightly saddened tone, searching her hooded face for a slither of reaction. Concern plainly swept over his features and his heart seemed to beat behind his eyes as he rested his gloved hands over his desk, threading his leather-clad fingers together, his ears prickled in preparation of her answer. She replied by shaking her head, bashfully raising her gaze until she managed to nervously look at him. Sensing she was a little uncomfortable in his presence, he immediately averted his stare and latched a hand around his cup of coffee, focusing on the swirl of cream and caramel that had sunk into the surface. He huffed out in disheartened disappointment due to her response and she winced, assuming that she had perhaps upset him by voicing her opinion.
She suddenly wished she’d never allowed the Ghoul to escort her there... in fact, even if she had, it wouldn’t have been that bad if she’d refused to enter Papa’s office. If she’d had the confidence to approach someone else to listen to her instead, like one of the many patient sisters, one of the youthful priests like Father Ramio or... even an outsider like Miss Vial, she would have been able to avoid the dilemma of speaking directly to Papa. Earlier that day, she’d considered skipping a few classes to visit the apothecary, in the hopes that she would be able to vent to Miss Vial, but as much as Manon admired the woman, fear had prevented her from doing so. She was convinced that the alchemist had forgotten about her, and now that Miss Vial had seemingly embraced insurrection and blatantly displayed her attitude and disregard for the rules by confidently striding around the Ministry’s corridors with a blazing cigarette perched between her lips... passing by her in a fleeting moment had made Manon feel slightly intimidated.
"I can assure you that it is safe here.” Copia spoke softly, pausing to take another sip of his mocha as he inspected the distant concern in Manon’s glossy hazel eyes. “There is nothing for you to worry about. Sure, some... nasty shit happens every now and then... but it’s cool, nothing we can't deal with. And if you feel you have a problem - aaaany problem at all - you let me know and I will try my best to help you, ok? Think of the Ministry as... a shelter. And it is your shelter as much as it is mine. Just because I wear this spooky paint, sit on a big chair and tell a lot of peoples what to do... it doesn't mean I'm special... or untouchable, you know? The Ministry protects me very much. And I am very thankful for that. And because you are also under this roof... I have to make sure you’re ok too."
"But M-Miss Vial! W-What about Miss Vial?" Manon blurted out like she had been desperate to ask such a thing for quite some time.
Her petite tanned hands began to tremble, and the abrupt mention of Miss Vial’s name caused Copia’s coffee cup to slip out of his grip until it densely slammed onto the paper-clad surface of the bureau beneath it. He furrowed his brow in bewilderment, averting his glaring eyes to the paper he’d been diligently working on. The lines of neat writing he’d recently finished were now smudged completely due to his nervous reflex and he clicked his tongue in annoyance, resting the thick material of his elbows over the mess to ensure Manon didn’t spot his blunder. His heart was now pounding in his ears due to his impulsive reaction, and the mention of Miss Vial’s name had caused an unpleasant wave of blurry, text riddled memories from the night before to haunt him again. Unfortunately he couldn’t rely on the thick white of his rat-paint to hide his embarrassment , because his pink cheeks were plain to see.
"Ah... eh... well, of course, the Ministry also protects her too, like it does anyone else.” he eventually replied in the calmest tone he could muster. “If someone is under the Ministry’s roof... it will shelter and guide them down whatever path they have chosen for themselves..."
He let out a deep sigh and his face fell, his wide eyes softening until his expression seemed sombre and serious.
"... within reason." he finished in a dark mutter, the melancholy in his tone unmistakable. He continued to stare down at the surface of his bureau and knitted his eyebrows together like something was troubling him. The gloved hands that had been settled in front of him had now curled into fists as he tried to stop himself feeling disheartened... but the more he tried to resist the darkness of his mind, the more he focused on the events of the night before. As much as he’d acted ridiculously, the longing he’d felt seemed to make its return in that moment. His gloved hands persisted to tighten and he closed his eyes, succumbing to the yearning he felt for Aemelia Vial. He was flooded with a desire to embrace her warm form to his cold self. He could almost see her pallid features beneath his eyelids as he imagined cupping her jaw with his leathery palms. He could almost recall her smouldering scent as he imagined his nose nuzzling into her thick burgundy hair, and he was completely lost to his imaginings once he remembered the feeling of panting out over her soft lips as he nonchalantly kissed them...
"Papa?" Manon’s voice emerged again. She’d been trying to capture his attention for quite some time... and now he’d heard her loud and clear, he cleared his throat, flashing his eyes open like he’d just woken from a vivid dream.
"Why... don’t you feel safe here, Manon?" he asked cautiously, his voice a little muffled due to the fact he was still half-focused on whatever fantasy was playing out in his mind.
"I can't sleep. I have the... the... des cauchemars.” she explained shyly, returning her gaze to the floor beneath her feet.
“Hm... ok, ok.” he responded, reluctantly blinking away the last of his daydreams before sitting up straight to listen to her intently. “Bad dreams are not so uncommon here, but they are sometimes... very helpful or important to focus on. Can you remember anything about them? Like... what happens, what is in them?”
“N-Not really.” she squeaked, her teeth clenching slightly. “But I wake up and I am never sleeping in bed. I walk.”
He narrowed his eyes in interest but focused on the sheets of paper scattered across his bureau, not wishing to deter her from talking to him.
“You are... how old?”
“Nearly thirteen, y-your Dark Excellency.” she answered, her whole form tensing when he hummed in hesitant thought. His concern was clear due to how sharply he inhaled and once he let out a deep exhale, he lifted his head to gaze at her honestly, not wishing to hide his worry from her any longer.
“You sleepwalk... ok, so where do you find yourself? If you are not in your dormitory when you wake up... where are you? The gardens, the cafeteria, the cathedral... the undercroft?”
“W-Where?”
“You walk the hallways at night, no?” he asked in an amiable tone, his mismatched eyes intensely scouring her anxious face. He could tell that she was withholding information from him, but he certainly wasn’t going to pressure her into revealing anything.
“N-No.”
“Hm... okie dokie.” he softly replied with a small smile, though it was clear from the intensity of his eyes that he certainly didn’t believe her. “If these nightmares are a recurring problem for you or you find the sleepwalking starts to lead you to very dangerous places... it has to stop, ok? Maybe you could go see Miss Vial at the apothecary this afternoon. I am sure that she will be able to make something to help you sleep more soundly, ah?"
"I-I can't. Sister Carious would never let me leave my studies to see her." she croaked pitifully, wincing when she timidly met Copia’s stare. His eyes were narrowed and he shook his head in displeasure, and then, he immediately snatched up his quill from the desk, dropping his gaze from her to search the bureau for a fresh piece of parchment.
"Oh no no no, do not worry about that.” he insisted in a hurried, slightly irritated tone. “I will write you a note. It will excuse you for the whole afternoon. You can go see her whenever you like, you just make sure you shove this in Sister Carious’ face, ok?"
"I-I don't want to go!"
He winced at her outcry and instantly abandoned his search for fresh parchment, dropping his quill back down into its previous place... oblivious to the large blot of ink that was now pooling out over the document he’d already ruined with smudges. Witnessing the look of anguish on her face, he could only sigh in defeat and he gazed at her astutely, sensing that there was more to her distress than nightmares and sleepwalking.
"Miss Vial... is in your bad dreams?" he asked softly in a wise tone of voice, studying her anxious expression as she fidgeted in her seat and ensured she kept her head low to hide her expression of discomfort. She eventually nodded in agreement and Copia’s expression saddened... and once again, he sighed in defeat.
"Ok, ok... look, how about we make a deal?" he suggested in a more optimistic, approachable tone which caused Manon to slowly prop her head up in glum interest. "Me and – ehhh - Miss Vial and I... eh... we are not exactly on speaking terms... but... I was already kinda... planning on dropping by the apothecary to see her later anyways. So I guess I could... talk to her while I'm there and see if she could make you something that would help. I can even have a Ghoul deliver it to you if she can find you something... it will be veeeery secret, I give you my word. What do you think?"
Manon nodded frantically.
And Copia's eyes gleamed for the first time in months... for he finally had an excuse to visit Miss Vial in person.
8 : Copia’s Convenient Crisis
Ten minutes after Manon had left his presence, Copia had bolted from his desk – golden reading glasses still clutching to his nose - to promptly exit his office, desperate to flee his accumulation of rather important clerical duties to instead complete his new – and far more interesting - task. He’d rushed through the Ministry’s hallways with graceful strides, his intricately embroidered royal blue robes gracefully swishing above the stone floor as he went. He had yearned for a valid reason to converse with Aemelia Vial, and it seemed that Satan had actually decided to listen to his pleading wishes for once... there was no way he was passing up the sudden opportunity he had been given.
Smugly confident about approaching Miss Vial now that he had a couple of convenient excuses, Copia’s pace quickened. He hadn’t felt spry for quite some time and his eagerness was on display to his subordinates, who seemingly didn’t exist to him. Each Sibling of Sin that he passed silently shuffled to the walls of the hallways to ensure that they were out of his way, and most cloaked individuals wore frowns of confusion. Papa rarely navigated the sprawl of corridors without a congregation surrounding him and his sole presence was drawing a lot of attention... attention that he chose to ignore.
Beneath his purposeful strides and his authoritative – yet excitable - demeanour, he was silently apprehensive. He hoped that Miss Vial wouldn’t bring up the topic of his drunken texts from the night before... he supposed that if she did, he would just have to embrace his embarrassment or deny that it ever happened. Naturally, being comfortably arrogant, he was leaning towards the latter.
His anxious thoughts were cut short as he glided through the end of the parted sea of whispering Siblings, and he stepped into the dim threshold of the older complex. A small relieved smile touched his painted lips as soon as he headed further away from the busier corridors, and he found his imposing surroundings oddly comforting, even if they were stern stone walls and flickering fire torches. He slowed down when the walls began to shrink in on him and carefully pressed on, swivelling around to side-step through the narrow corridors, hoping to avoid scraping his expensive papal robes. When he cautiously neared his destination, he swallowed thickly because his heart had started to simmer.
He may have been confident that he finally had a reason to see the alchemist, but it suddenly dawned on him that he had no idea what he was supposed to say to her. He couldn’t exactly speak to her like he used to. After all, he hadn’t said a word to her for over half a year. He had so much he wanted to talk about but it was hardly an appropriate time to do so, given the amount of time that had passed and his current position being the leader of the Clergy. Despite the unsettling nervousness he felt, he decided that he would simply have to improvise.
After passing his old office - which was still crudely boarded up and chained to prevent anyone from entering – he expelled a heavy sigh and refrained from jogging the rest of the way. His heart pounded in his ears, urging that he raised his pace, but he resisted his excitement. He certainly didn’t want to end up bumping into anyone in the darkness... even though such a thing was rather unlikely - nobody chose to walk the hallways of the old complex anymore.
Soon, after walking at a painfully slow pace through the rest of the narrow passageway, Copia was nearing the apothecary. The closer the door became, the more he could hear the comforting confirmation of her presence. The welcome sound of sizzling and bubbling was both nostalgic and gut-wrenching for him and he came to a gentle stop by the door, nervously peering down at the ground beneath his feet. The fact that Aemelia Vial was definitely present on the other side of the door before his very eyes made him unbelievably nervous... but he composed himself by inhaling sharply and lifting his head. He narrowed his eyes at the wood in front of him and confidently raised his chin, pressing a leather-clad hand against the heavily varnished surface of the door.
To his surprise, the door hadn’t been fully closed and it started to swiftly creak open as a consequence, revealing the contents of the small room to him. His apprehensive gaze shifted back to the ground below and he took a deep breath before gracefully entering, ensuring he ducked down a little to avoid damaging his mitre. He resisted raising his mismatched gaze to study his fresh surroundings and instead slowly spun around to quietly shut the door behind himself. He ensured the door was closed properly this time, and actually considered drawing one of the metal bolts across as a precaution – he wanted to make sure that no one else decided to poke their noses into his business – but he realised that his actions would probably give off the wrong impression to Miss Vial, so he decided to abandon barring the door shut.
Once he smoothly spun back around, the scent of cigarette smoke hit him plainly and he wore a subtle smile, cautiously stepping into the centre of the room. He paused there for a moment and trailed his eyes upwards... but shied away from resting his gaze upon the alchemy station, and instead, casually trailed his eyes towards the shrine located to the right of the door. He was quite surprised that it was still in place and burning away, he’d expected her to remove it from the apothecary entirely. The fact that Miss Vial simply allowed it to exist meant a lot to him... his smile broadened, but it didn’t linger for long.
He swallowed back his feelings of warmth and cleared his throat. He stood hesitantly, his mismatched eyes lowering to the ground despite his apprehensive curiosity. He yearned to gaze at her, but he knew that the intensity of Miss Vial’s stare would likely make him tremble uncontrollably.
Hearing the distracting sound of his shoes as he nervously shuffled from foot to foot, Miss Vial stilled immediately. Her obsidian irises were callous and indifferent as they flicked upwards to brazenly settle on his glittering presence, and she pursed her mouth into a stern line, a fuming cigarette managing to clutch to the right side of her mouth. She was undeniably irked by his presence, but she stayed silent and continued to work like the anti-pope wasn’t there at all. Her slender hands were occupied, each one wrapped around a thick glass tube containing two vibrant mixtures, and she carefully tipped the contents of both vials into a shallow iron mixing vat, which was on a low simmer over the flames of the alchemy station’s fire pit.
She stared at him for most of the momentous silence, but as soon as his eyes glinted, she knew that he was about to meet her gaze with his own and she brashly tore her attention away from him, focusing on her current task like she had never noticed him. He was silent when he finally studied her, but his anxious breaths were long and audible from where she was stood. He was quietly in awe of her existence and he was thankful that her dark eyes weren’t glaring back at him... but he could tell that she must have been completely aware of his presence because her pale cheeks had started to glow a faint shade of pink. He let out another thick, shaky breath before parting his lips... his mind had drawn a blank on anything clever or amusing to say in order to break the ice, so he settled on simply greeting her formally, like she was simply another one of the Ministry’s many Siblings...
But naturally, Aemelia Vial couldn't allow him to have the first word.
"Nice robes.” she began in a hoarse, deadpan tone, carefully setting down the emptied tubes in order to snatch up a couple of hefty glass jars from the surface of the alchemy desk. “I wish I had an excuse to wear a comfy blanket everywhere. Probably not the best idea though, I tend to spill all sorts on me when I’m in here... and I’m guessing those robes weren’t cheap."
Copia peered at her with wide, shining eyes, amazed that she had uttered a word to him. His nervous demeanour noticeably eased now that he didn’t have to initiate their interaction and he exhaled deeply. His shoulders relaxed a little and he lightly chuckled, his crow's-feet crinkling under the thick rat-paint.
"Yes, they were a little... pricey. But they were worth it, no? They are sleek, sexy and very cosy, heh heh.” he eagerly replied, lifting his arms to elaborately extend out his vestment so that he could show it off to her. She sighed and reluctantly raised her eyes to acknowledge him, raising an unimpressed brow at his golden reading glasses and the soiled, inky sleeves of his robes.
“You’re an angel away from being a fuckin’ Christmas tree...” she muttered, shaking her head in subdued amusement. She wore a subtle smile and sprinkled a small amount of the jars’ contents into the simmering mixing vat before clapping on their lids. When she set both jars down to gently stir the steaming mixing pot, he relaxed his arms, swallowed back his apprehension, and rested his gaze on her actions. He did so swiftly before he became lost in her pallid features and fiery maroon plaits... it was far too tempting to succumb to his attraction towards her, but he was just about resisting for the time being.
"You took your sweet arse time." Aemelia suddenly stated in a stern tone, withdrawing her stirring stick from the mixing vat to allow the new concoction to bubble for a bit. Her single curt sentence caused the atmosphere between them to shift entirely and his shoulders tensed. He’d sensed venom in her words and decided to stare at the floor again, avoiding her intense charcoal irises, which were no doubt drilling into him. Despite the return of his anxiety, he bashfully shuffled himself forwards until he was stood completely opposite her, his extravagant embroidered robes grazing the cold edge of the alchemy station.
"Eh... yes, I... eh..." he quietly stuttered, his eyebrows knitting together as he continued to glare his mismatched eyes into the unforgiving stone floor. His verbal hesitations swiftly trailed off before he could continue and he stilled, allowing his hesitation to physically freeze him instead. He was incredibly still for quite some time before he eventually blinked out of his strange trance, expelling out a deep sigh of frustration.
"It is difficult to find the words right now...” he finally replied in a small voice, continuing to nervously stare at the ground. “I am... overwhelmed by your presence... it is dazzling me. I am finding it hard to believe you are right here... in front of me, after all of this time. You... left m – here a little while ago, you know?”
After a few seconds of silence, he timidly raised his head and his wide eyes met hers momentarily. Her obsidian irises were just as he’d remembered: shadowy, fearless and impervious. She looked bewildered having heard his words, but he could see reluctance plainly in her gaze... it was clear that she was holding her tongue. He never wanted her to stop staring back at him, but her eyes soon shifted away from him, and eventually, she turned around to face away from him entirely. He winced slightly as he trailed his gaze over the back of her head and quietly began to study the rest of her with such melancholic yearning.
"I know that it might feel like I never left...” she softly said, her voice lightly echoing off of the thick stone walls as she gathered up some fresh containers from the cluttered sill of the stain-glass window. “... but you know that it can’t be like it was between us. You have your big boots on now. You made it. You finally got what you always wanted... you’re the fuckin’ pope.”
There was a brief pause and she swivelled back around to face him, two immaculate vials tucked snugly between her fingers. She confidently met his stare again, taking the time to inspect the thick skull-paint coating his weathered features.
“And popes don’t just stand in apothecaries like timid little mice. They make decisions or talk or... fuckin’ do something, at least.” she continued in slight annoyance, searching his startled face with her hardened eyes. He swiftly cleared his throat again and nodded frantically, standing to attention like he was suddenly remembering the position he held now that he was under her scrutinising gaze.
"You know what... you are completely right, Miss Vial. That is why we will no longer linger on the topic of my work. It has been quite a while since we... talked, so I think it would be cool if we could catch u - “
“So you’re not counting the endless walls of texts, missed calls or those dreadful voice mails you left the other night? None of that was talking?” she questioned bluntly, scolding him with her impassive stare. Her stern expression made him want to squirm but all he could do was stand stiffly and squeak out a quiet, high-pitched “Ahhhhhhm” of uncomfortable hesitation. Suddenly his arrogant plan of denying it ever occurred didn’t seem like such a good idea...
“I don’t blame you for not counting all of that to be fair.” she continued in a grumble, dropping her expressionless gaze to briefly check on the simmering vat of lilac liquid. “It was hardly a talk anyway... considering it was mostly you nattering on about how... what was it again? How you wanted me to visit your quarters because I was sexy?”
“But... you are.” Copia reluctantly replied in a quiet tone, which caused her dark eyes to settle on him again. “I mean to say... you look good. Very good. Leaving here for a little while seems to have done you... very good, you know?”
Aemelia squinted at him in suspicion and she leaned backwards just as he was tipping himself forwards. He peered his gleaming, mismatched eyes at her over the warm wisps of ashen steam rising up from the searing metal of the mixing pot. She sternly held his stare, regardless of his peculiar actions, even when he began to lean further forwards, slowly closing the cluttered desk-space between them. And once he had neared her enough, he closed his eyes and tilted his head, sniffing loudly like he was eagerly inhaling her scent.
“You smell good too.” he whispered, unable to conceal an amused smirk as he carefully toppled back onto his heels. Once he opened his eyes, he was met with the steely sight of her standing and glaring at him from across the table. She had her arms crossed over her chest and she was shaking her head in disapproval of his actions... and it caused him to blush profusely. His gloved hands – which were now trembling slightly - nervously smoothed down the front of his twinkling attire and he awkwardly cleared his throat, deciding that it was probably best to forget what had just happened.
"Ehhh... anywaaaaays, I expect you are wondering why I have decided to visit you today - "
"Oh I don't know... you probably want something from me. Fuckin' typical." she bitterly interrupted through clenched teeth, abandoning her stance of disapproval to swipe up a clean piece of equipment from the desk in front of her. She cautiously lowered the thin glass pipette into the frothing lilac potion and focused on her task, cautiously sucking up concentrated amounts of warm droplets. Copia swallowed nervously and fumbled his leather palms together, not really knowing how to respond. She could see him squirming in her peripheral vision but continued to focus on her important task, rolling her eyes.
"If you have something to say, spit it out, Copia. If the suspense lasts any longer I'll end up dropping something." she curtly quipped, wrapping her free hand around one of the fresh vials to firmly hold it in place of over the desk’s surface.
"Ah shit... of course, of course!” he exclaimed, gesturing a rueful hand towards her. “My... ah... apologies, Miss Vial. I will... crack the fuck on, as you say, heh heh..."
"I’m fairly sure that I never say that..." she murmured beneath her breath, her black eyes settling on the intricate movements of the pipette in her hands, which she was slowly escorting over to one of the clean glass vials.
"So... “ he assuredly began, wringing his hands together now that she was getting on with her work... he wasn’t confident that she was actually listening to him. “... you may recall, from your time here... eh... previously... that I had some trouble sleeping at night...”
"Mm-hm."
"... a-and I was wondering if there was anything you could make to help with that? The insomnia has gotten kinda... unbearable for me nowadays."
"Your brothers are still causing you some bother?" she asked simply, a small smirk gracing her plump lips as she comfortably repeated her actions, drawing more lilac droplets out of the hot mixing pot before she gently released them into the fresh vial. "Or has your old dad Luci ghosted you again and pinned a long, shitty timetable to the fridge for you while he's away?"
He glared at her, surprised that she was bringing up his best kept secret so freely in an undeniably bitter tone, and swiftly cleared his throat, proceeding to hush her frantically by erratically shaking his gloved hands at her.
"Eh! Ehhh! Shhh! Sh! I have... a lot of things on my dish right now, ok?" he exclaimed defensively in a series of strained whispers, leaning forwards so that he could clutch his leathery palms around the thick edge of the alchemy station to hold himself up.
"Plate, you have a lot of things on your plate." she corrected in a cold, disappointed mumble.
“Sure, sure, whatever. You going to help me out, or not?" he questioned in a shrill tone, blatantly displaying a glimpse of his frustration.
"Of course I will. I can't say that the tonic I have in mind will cure the insomnia, but it will definitely make falling asleep a lot easier for you... if that’s what you’re struggling with." she confidently explained in a professional manner, still too occupied with her work to shoot him an inquisitive glance.
"Cool, cool. That sounds perfect. I will have some Ghouls come pick it up by the end of your shift... eh... if that is ok with you, Miss Vial?" he asked, admiring her expression of determined concentration with his curious eyes.
"Yeah, that’s fine by me. I’ll make sure I attach some instructions." she mumbled, her voice a little muffled now that she had sunk down slightly to observe her work more closely.
As she pressed on with her work, an icy silence filled the entire apothecary, and she was comfortably oblivious to the fact Copia was still simply stood there, watching her carefully carry out her actions with an expression of bemusement. After a minute or so, the strange silence was cut short by her clearing her throat and slowly raising her head to face him with narrowed eyes. She’d sensed that he was still staring at her... and she was completely right because his eyes were fixed to hers, even when her gaze became cold and unimpressed.
"Any particular reason why you're still here?" she snapped, the spite in her irises easing into stubborn confusion. "Considering you're the big man now... I'm surprised that you have the time to stand and do fuck all."
"I am not doing fuck all, Miss Vial." he shot back in a miffed tone as he uncomfortably fidgeted from foot to foot, expelling a deep sigh of irritation when he clutched his gloved fists to his chest. There was a pause before he said anything more and she dropped her indifferent guard due to the annoyance in his voice, her black irises glinting with the slightest hint of sadness.
"I... I have another request for you... I was just... patiently waiting for your attention to continue talking, you know?" he added in a quieter, softer tone, dragging a gloved hand down his wincing features in slight embarrassment. “Anyways... now I am – ahem – the big man, I have been getting a lot more mail and shit... it has been a real surprise for me. And earlier, I looked through my mail as usual... and today, there was this real spooky looking envelope addressed to Papa – me, you know - and it was covered in these teensy little black webs... really fucking cool... anyways, I opened it and it was an invitation to a festival later this week... they want me to be a guest speaker. I have no clue what a Killing Sun Festival is, but it sounds very interesting... a lil’ creepy, but very interesting. And to be real with you, it has... unsettled me, Miss Vial. Which is why I had to see you today because I... want you to... eh... come along with me. As my plus one."
She narrowed her eyes in contemplation despite how much he had waffled, trying to remember whether she had heard anything about the festival he had mentioned. She scoured through her thoughts but nothing came to mind and she pursed her lips into a curious pout.
"Hm... well it definitely sounds... interesting. If you’re unsettled about going then you could always just... refuse the invite. Say you’re busy or something.” she reasoned in a reassuring tone, carefully setting down her pipette now that both of the stylish vials were filled to the brim with lilac fluid. He let out a quiet squeak of nervous hesitation and suddenly shrugged when she averted her eyes from him again to firmly screw metallic caps onto the ends of the lilac tubes.
“Ahm... unfortunately, I am not so sure that I can refuse, heh heh.” he anxiously admitted, furrowing his brows while he uncomfortably glared at the ground. “I am expected to appear there... I am literally already on the fucking bill. The invitation arrived a couple months late and because I did not reply early enough... I can’t get out of this shit now. I have to go, or I will look fucking stupid, you know?”
“Right, well... in that case, maybe you should head there alone. I’m really not sure that me coming along with you would help in any way.” she grumbled before letting out a disgruntled sigh. “I'm only just settling here again and it would look suspicious as fuck if I - "
"The hotels are already booked for the week." Copia blurted out, causing her to abruptly shut her mouth. "The flights to Vegas too. Even the rental car. All of it... booked.”
She promptly – and loudly – dropped the finished vials onto the desk’s surface to glare at him in astonishment. Her hands balled into fists by her sides and she inhaled sharply, tilting her head like she was trying to make sense of what her ears had just heard.
"You cheeky fuckin' bastard. You hadn’t so much as breathed in my ear, yet you felt that you had the authority to make a decision for me?!” she growled through clenched teeth, the look of offended disbelief on her face causing the corners of his mouth to twitch with amusement. “And hold the fuck on... did you say Vegas, or I am fuckin’ deaf?! I can’t just drop everything and head to the states... I’ve got shit to – oh, you fucker. No wonder I couldn’t find my fuckin’ passport the last few days. You didn’t receive that invite this morning at all. You scheming little... rat.”
"Yes, it was... needed for the admin and such.” he confessed with a regretful sigh, though his mismatched eyes were swimming with undeniable mirth. “I was kinda disappointed you renewed it recently... hot photo though – ahem – anyways, I had to ensure that you would be coming with me, Miss Vial. As Papa I am unable to go places myself, I have to have a chauffeur... no, no... a chaperone to make sure I am kept very safe at all times.”
“Then take some fucking Ghouls with you. They’re pretty solid when it comes to being body guards, trust m - “
“No, no. I cannot do that.” he retorted confidently, dramatically waving a gloved hand in dismissal. “You are far more reliable and sensible... and eh... professional. You would definitely represent the Ministry in a way that I would prefer... the Ghouls have gotten quite... eh... destructive since you last saw them, you know? They are constantly in heat, and I couldn’t have them misbehaving like that in front of strangers, that would look shitty. Especially if those strangers were open to the idea of Satan... our conversion numbers are already dwindling as it is.”
He paused for a moment and bashfully reached up to smooth back his hair... but naturally, his tall mitre was in the way. He emitted a deep breath and awkwardly lowered his arm down to idly swing it by his side instead. He shyly raised his head and slowly met Aemelia’s silent expression of shock... it seemed that she was so surprised by the situation that she had no idea how to react.
“Also... you drive much better than they do. I don’t get so motion sick.” he muttered, a slither of guilt present in his eyes as he slowly studied her alarmed features. “So... you were the only candidate I had in mind to be my plus one. You have a veeery good resume... I cannot ignore that.”
A confused scowl joined her blank, wide-eyed expression and she set her jaw, grudgingly parting her lips to speak.
“So, when is this shit happening then?” she grumbled, draping her arms across her chest to cross them over in a strict manner. “I need to know when to start packing. At the end of the week, next month... when?”
“We leave here tomorrow for our early morning flight.” Copia stated in an optimistic tone of voice, wearing a small smile when she glared and firmly clamped her mouth shut. “The event is held kinda in the middle of nowhere, so it will be a couple days drive before we get there... I will text you the in depth... eh... deets, later, ok? Just finish up here and get yourself ready for tomorrow, ah? Don’t worry about your tasks, getting ready for tomorrow is waaay more important to me.”
“You’re not kidding me at all, are you?” she asked in an empty, distant register, her charcoal eyes faltering as she searched his face for any sign of trickery... she only found amused honesty in his glinting eyes instead.
“Of course not, Miss Vial.” he replied sincerely, seriousness replacing his faint amusement. “I never planned on this shit being so rushed... but... like I said, I only found out like... an hour ago and I can’t get out of this festival appearance. I really don’t want to seem like a killjoy if I pull a no-show so... this is why we have to react accordingly.”
Before she could open her mouth to retort, he turned his back on her and swiftly shuffled forwards, already making his way towards the exit, robes and mitre-tails trailing behind him. She couldn’t take her shocked eyes away from him and she looked even more bewildered once he paused in his tracks to acknowledge her by slowly peering at her over his left shoulder.
“Oh and one more thing before I go...” he added, his voice suddenly rich and hoarse. “... thank you for keeping my shrine. It really means a lot to me, you know?”
He let out a grateful breathy chuckle and turned his head away from her, focusing on the apothecary door with a faint smirk, “I’m looking forward to working with you again, very, veeery much... message you later.”
9 : Infuriating Habits
The next day, Aemelia Vial wished she’d never bothered returning the Ministry. She had no idea what she thought she had missed, and she was baffled how she had forgotten the nightmare that Copia could be. Although it had all started the day prior with him making her attendance to a so-called business trip compulsory instead of allowing her to have a choice in the matter, the beginning of their journey to the states hadn’t been so bad. Their first short flight had been early in the morning and she’d been thankful that they hadn’t found the energy to interact with each other at all – neither of them were morning people - but as soon as they landed in the next airport, it was like flicking on a switch. And suddenly, Copia became the most arrogant, infuriating man to walk the Earth... and she had no way out of the situation. She simply had to tolerate the frustrating anti-pope’s antics for the next thirteen hours. She certainly couldn’t avoid him when she was going to be trapped on an airplane flight with him snugly strapped into the seat beside her...
After a cringe-inducing interaction between Copia and a rather buxom woman behind the airport’s check-in desk, Aemelia briskly stormed off, clutching their freshly printed boarding passes to her chest with a deadpan expression. She could feel the curious eyes of waiting passengers driving into her from the queue behind them and she clenched her teeth together at the hurried clack of Copia’s footsteps behind her. He had to jog to keep up with her and once he managed to catch up to her, he bumped into her right shoulder, which only made her expression darken further.
“No... surely I did not read that right? Does that say... economy?!” he loudly questioned, peering his conflicting irises over her right shoulder so that he could read the boarding passes for himself... he was immensely pleased that he had an excuse to stare down at her chest but he masked his smug feelings with an expression of innocence. “I definitely remember selecting the other option. I guess... a finger must have slipped.”
“What did you book this flight on, a fucking tamagotchi?” she snapped emptily, nudging his side with her elbow. He cleared his throat and obliged her wishes, allowing a larger gap to form between the two of them.
“A tama-what? No no, I had one of my Ghouls do it for me. I just... pointed at my phone and they sorted it all, you know?” he explained casually, matching the authoritative speed of her strides. “Kinda pissed that we can’t change that shit now... ah well, I guess I will have to have words with the Ghoul once we get back home. If you get backache or... feel any little uncomfy bumps in the seaties, tell me straight away, ok? Our discomfort is on him, so I need to take everything into account before he is punished.”
“I think you’re the one that needs punishing.” she grumbled in a bitter tone, gritting her teeth at the subtle creak of his black leather tailcoat as he walked alongside her. “What fucking madman lets a Ghoul arrange a holiday for them?!”
“Eh! Now, now, Miss Vial. You know this is no vacation.” he promptly replied in an insistent manner, wildly gesturing his gloved hands. “This is a... business trip... nothing more.”
His mismatched eyes widened now that he could feel the glares of other passengers settling on the two of them. It was enough that the two of them stuck out like two gloomy sore-thumbs without her ragging on at him. But of course, he would never understand why she was so annoyed by his behaviour, or the situation... she felt he was playing her for a fool, because she already knew full well that it wasn’t just a simple business trip.
As soon as the belt symbol above their heads faded out with a soft bong sound, Copia immediately unclipped his seat-belt, letting out an over-dramatic sigh of relief. Aemelia tried her best to ignore him and tapped the modest touch-screen monitor built into the chair in front of her, desperate to find something to watch before she took any notice of him. Unfortunately, as she began to flick through the long list of available films, she paid too much attention to her peripheral vision and she froze in place, yet again annoyed by the actions of the anti-pope sat in the seat beside her.
Their elbows bumped as he messed with the various dials on the arms of his chair, clearly attempting to work out the purpose of each one. Most of them appeared to readjust the angle of his seat and he hummed highly in subdued comprehension, and then continued to toggle them, the creak of his leather tailcoat and gloves really starting to grate on everyone else’s ears. Before long, the chair abruptly tipped backwards and his eyes widened into saucers... he fumbled with the dials, hoping that he could revert the chair into a more upright position, but it appeared to be stuck and eventually, he gave up, huffing out a deep breath of disappointment.
For a while after that, he was fairly still, and it was clear from how much he laid his head back that he was warming to the new position of the seat... although he was completely unaware of the expression of disgruntled disgust on the passenger’s face behind him and the deep set scowl over Aemelia’s brow due to his previous fidgeting. He rested his head on the small cushioned head-rest behind him and without moving a muscle, he cautiously trailed his mismatched eyes towards the wine-haired woman sat beside him, who was still scrolling through the screen’s list of TV shows and movies with an unmoving stare. His irises seemed to soften as he studied her and he tilted his head in hopeful expectation, following the messy strands of burgundy hair that draped by the sides of her pallid face. He watched her intently for a couple of minutes, and she didn’t appear to notice him at all now that he was quiet, for when she abandoned her search for entertainment, she swiped up a novel she’d had perched over her legs instead. She rested it on the mini-table hovering over her lap and opened it up at a page she’d bookmarked with a wad of folded dollar bills.
Then she proceeded to shuffle over her seat, and after stubbornly pulling down the oblong window blind to her right, she finally began to contentedly read the lines on the pages before her, trying to immerse herself in the book as much as possible to drown out the loud murmurs of the chattering passengers sat around her. She squinted her black eyes in concentration and her look of focus caused Copia to slowly sink further down into his seat, his eyes lingering on the tips of her fingers whenever she smoothly turned a page. And when she occasionally traced the lines of text with the edges of her glossy obsidian fingernails, his mouth parted slightly so that he could let out a shallow, shuddering exhale. After a while, his mind began to wander off into all sorts of carnal fantasies and before long, he had to force himself forwards to tightly close his legs together.
And because of the new position his legs were in, his feet turned outwards slightly and this caused the tips of his shoes to jam into the space beneath the chair in front of him. When he eventually tried to wiggle his feet free, he glared in horrified realisation, trying his best to snag his shoes away from whatever had caught hold of them... but it was no use. His winkle-pickers were completely stuck in the dim, sticky unknown beneath the chair before him no matter how much he jiggled his legs about. He flicked his mismatched eyes nervously between Aemelia and a stranger that was sat in the aisle-seat to his left, hoping that one of them would notice his visible distress. Unfortunately, both of them were occupied. Aemelia was now deeply focused on the pages in front of her, and the man beside him had passed out some time ago... he didn’t want to disturb either of them.
After anxiously looking between the two people he was sat next to, Copia eventually emitted a tiny little squeak of concern and could no longer stand the situation. He leaned closer to Aemelia and with a wince, reached across to frantically tap her shoulder. An irked scowl etched its way onto her brow and she reluctantly lifted her head, tilting her face to the side in order to squint her annoyed black eyes at him.
"Ahm... I need... a little help... eh... down there..." he murmured in a timid voice, his wide eyes following the gesture of his glove, which motioned towards the darkness surrounding his ankles.
"I’m not interacting with anything below your waist, Copia." she calmly replied in a hushed tone, raising a brow before she returned her gaze to her book.
"Ah! But my shoes are... the tips are stuck, Miss Vial! And I gotta piss real soon. I don’t want to bust my load here, you know?!" he exclaimed in a strained string of panicked whispers and she huffed in defeat, marking her page with the wad of thin dollar bills before she loudly snapped the book shut. Then she briskly unclipped her seat-belt and let out a subdued grunt of irritation as she leaned to her left, cautiously angling her front over his lap so that she could firmly grapple her hands around his ankles. The brush of her blazer and waistcoat over his thighs as she tried to free his shoes caused his cheeks to flush and his form suddenly became awfully relaxed. He slouched back in his seat and parted his legs slightly, quietly humming in appreciation when her elbows grazed the material covering his legs.
As she continued to wrestle with his winkle-pickers, her actions caused him to let out persistent grunts of effort as he tried to move his feet along with her hands. Due to the strange sounds of effort coming from their row, most of the passengers on the surrounding aisles shot their confused gazes towards them, assuming from Copia’s sounds and Aemelia’s head of burgundy hair that was hovering just above his lap... that something salacious and untoward was going on. However, both Copia and Vial were oblivious to the assumptions and the prying eyes, too concerned with the state of his shoes.
She pulled and pulled at his ankles, hoping that her attempts would eventually set him free, but his feet didn’t budge. Copia shifted upwards, the back of his head thumping against the headrest as he straightened his back, and his actions seemed to loosen the tips of his shoes slightly.
"Ahhh, yes, yes I can feel it alleviating. You are almost there, Miss Vial... wiggle it a little more, ah?” he encouraged, widening his eyes when she yanked at his ankles more aggressively. His eyes continued to grow in size for a few more seconds and the pink over his cheeks became far more prominent as more passengers settled their disgusted eyes on their row of seats.
"Ohhhhhhh, yesssssss! Theeeere we are! Oh that feels so much better!" he gasped when his feet finally fell onto the cabin floor with a satisfying thump, his breaths loud and deep as relief washed over him. He groaned as he rotated his ankles and she shuffled back onto her seat, rolling her eyes in disinterest. She flipped open her book to the place she’d bookmarked and he abruptly launched himself towards her to thank her... but from the shock on his face it was clear he’d underestimated the speed of his actions. He stopped short of accidentally head-butting her and exhaled out onto her left ear.
"I gotta head to the... little Papa’s room now... but thank you very much for the help, Miss Vial. You are very kind to me, I will have to repay you some time, heh heh.” he whispered, and she could practically feel the greasy sleaze of the grateful wink he sent her as she drilled her eyes into the pages of her book, desperate to ignore him now that she could feel his hot breath on the skin of her ear. To her relief, he swiftly backed away from her but only so that he could nimbly prise himself out of his seat.
It must have taken him at least five minutes to actually slip out into the main aisle – he hadn’t wanted to wake the man that was sleeping beside him so he’d been especially slow slipping by him – and Aemelia was immensely content when he eventually bounded in the direction of the restroom, sighing now that she managed to have a little bit of time to herself. Those ten minutes he was away were precious and she relaxed over her seat, a small smile of contentment on her mouth as she leaned her elbow onto the flip-table, resting the back of a hand beneath her chin. Her plaits hung either side of her head as she trailed her irises over the lines of text and she was easily lost to the world of a sci-fi novel. She was so lost in fact, that she was completely oblivious to Copia’s return. She didn’t even seem to feel the nudge of his elbow after he’d slumped back into his seat and he soon became disappointed that she was set on ignoring him, so his eyes trailed to the plane’s thin aisles that he’d recently wandered.
It wasn’t long before his rat-paint and intense, gleaming eyes caught the attention of a passing air hostess and he jumped at the chance of getting some refreshments. He tried his very best to draw Aemelia’s attention throughout the entire interaction by nudging her with his elbow, loudly flirting with the hostess and taking an overly long time to set down a small plastic cup of red wine and a generous packet of prawn cocktail potato chips. But she didn’t move a muscle, her eyes were firmly fixed to the pages of the novel. Once the air hostess moved away from their row of seats, he wore a faint amused smirk and raised his plastic cup to his lips to take a long loud slurp, narrowing his eyes at the woman sat beside him.
Starved of Miss Vial’s attention, he finished his sip and carefully set down his cup of wine. And then, once it was out of his grasp, he suddenly decided to slide off his right glove, and as soon as the telling creak of leather reached her ears, Aemelia instantly turned her head towards him, frowning in irritation. Her gaze was hostile as she watched him unsheathe his bare hand and she set her jaw when his finger and thumb began to pincer together. He smirked at her annoyed expression and he abruptly clicked his fingers together, a vivid blue spark of hell-fire snapping into existence.
She huffed and launched forwards, snatching up his discarded glove to throw it at his chest. Her eyes met his wide, amused irises as he feigned a winded breath, clutching the glove to his chest over-dramatically. She shook her head and squinted at him, and all contentment she had experienced in those few minutes, evaporated into non-existence.
Eventually, after he slid his glove back on, he allowed her to return to the comfort of her sci-fi novel and instead, settled on crunching his way through his packet of potato snacks. And as he did so, he began to focus on the reassuring hum of the plane’s engine and the meaningless clamour of passengers around them... and once he became comfortable with the sounds, it didn’t take long for him to start nodding off. It took him a few minutes before he actually succumbed to slumber, but once he did, he lazily slouched in his seat, tipping his head back to allow drawn out snores to escape from his parted mouth. The more he slept, the louder his snores became and soon, Aemelia could no longer focus on the story in front of her. She lightly growled in irritation and reached over to the surface of his flip-table, dipping a hand into the confines of his half-emptied bag of potato crisps. There was a satisfying crackle as she snatched hold of the generous remnants and then, poising her palm out flat in front of her chest, she began to lift up the snack residue with her other hand, holding onto them like she was about to play a game of darts.
She squinted her eyes and focused on the source of his loud snores, carefully practicing her aim by carefully moving her forearm back and forth. And when she was confident with her movement, she finally allowed the potato chip to fly free... and it landed in his partially open mouth. She snorted and picked up another crumbling piece of crispy potato, sufficiently entertained by Copia now that he was fast asleep and effortlessly living as an oblivious snoring basketball hoop.
After his attention-seeking behaviour earlier, it was no wonder that she found it rather amusing later on, when he awoke after an hour or so, wearing a wince of irritation due to the feel of his incredibly sore tongue and dry throat, which was caked in a crispy cluster of potato crumbs...
Arriving at the airport in the heart of Las Vegas should have been an exciting, intriguing experience, but for Aemelia Vial it was nothing but an overdue relief. After their arduous flight had come to an end, they’d been held up at customs for quite some time, so it was clear why her strides abruptly sped up once she could see the signs directing them to the exit. She clutched her leather holdall – which was eerily similar to an old fashioned doctor’s bag - snugly beneath an arm and tightly wrapped her fingers around the handles of Copia’s two black snake-skin suitcases. He’d wanted to assist her with carrying their luggage but she’d swiped them from the luggage carousel before he’d even noticed their existence...
He swiftly trailed behind her but was cautious not to follow her too closely. He could tell from her hasty movements and icy silence that her tolerance had worn thin some time ago... especially now that they could plainly see the arrivals exit in front of them. Stark headlight beams funnelled out from a line of waiting vehicles that were parked over the tarmac outside. The sight only reminded her of how long they had been held up at the airport and she gritted her teeth together, marching a little faster. Her worsening body language caused him to swallow and he finally decided to close the space between them, nervously keeping his gaze on their destination to avoid the possibility of her scolding him with her eyes.
“You... you do not have to walk so fast, you know?” he softly suggested, gulping again when he heard the telling creak of his luggage handles.
“It’s already dark outside. And I have to drive tomorrow, remember?” she shot back without giving him a shred of attention. “So, excuse me for walking fast. I just want to get to our hotel to get some actual fucking sleep. We better have separate rooms because you’re doing my fucking head in.”
“Ehhh... yeeeah, sure, heh heh! Of... of course we do.” he squeaked out nervously, glaring at the scenery ahead of them. “You are... annoyed about the passport thing? I am sorry it took so long, they really do not believe I am Papa sometimes. I guess with the ascension being so recent it - ”
“No. I’m annoyed because you almost got busted for that powder. You do realise I could have been arrested as an accessory?”
“Ahhh, it was fiiine.” he insisted, gesturing a dismissive gloved hand towards her. “I told them it was a pope thing so... you were not implicated at all, ah?”
“How the fuck did you get them to believe that your suspicious white powder was a fuckin’...” she trailed off and let out an exasperated sigh, losing interest now that they were nearing the line of stationary vehicles that were parked outside. “... you know what, nevermind. I don’t want to know. I’m too tired for this shit.”
Thankfully, Copia didn’t have time to respond to her. Now that they were trailing the roadside of the bustling terminal, their eyes were too caught up in reading the various signs that were being thrust into their faces by people waiting around for arrivals. All the names on the large pieces of white card were written in thick black marker and each name was completely foreign to them... apart from one sign that was being held up a little further away. From how crumpled the card was, it was clear that it had been held up for quite some time. Aemelia was the first to spot the name being displayed and despite her irritated mood, she managed to let out an amused snort when she realised that the sign read “Papa Elmeritus” in block capitals. However, her amusement quickly disappeared once she studied the man who was clutching it in front of his face. He was dressed in a sharp black suit and dark aviators, but the black baseball-cap that obscured his head didn’t fit in with his outfit at all.
That very observation caused her irritation to rise again as they neared him, and she realised, with a look of subdued horror as they came to a dead stop before him, that he was standing in front of an immaculate white stretch-limousine... surely the vehicle wasn’t for them? Then again, after all the insufferable hours she’d spent with Copia, Aemelia really shouldn’t have been surprised by its presence.
Copia cleared his throat and awkwardly extended a gloved hand out to the man, who abruptly lowered the sign and silently obliged him. Aemelia rolled her eyes and impatiently rounded the two of them, not wishing to hear the exchange between them. She could hear the sound of their voices as she marched away, headed towards the limo’s trunk, but their words may as well have been alien. With a deadpan expression, she thrust up the tail-gate – to her surprise, it was already open – and dumped their luggage inside, expelling out a huff of respite when she eventually slammed the tail-gate down.
And then, once she headed back towards the two men, she stopped dead in her tracks. One of the rear doors was suddenly wide open and neither Copia or the driver was anywhere to be seen. She cautiously approached the open door and with a confused scowl, she dipped down so that she could take a careful look inside. Copia was halfway through shuffling over the backseats and she rolled her eyes, reluctantly hunching down some more to hop inside. She slid onto the closest seat – which unfortunately happened to be right beside him – and immediately clenched her teeth at the scratchy sound of the upholstery. It was part creaky black leather and part obnoxious zebra print. The dramatic, over-the-top style was lavish but seedy, and despite her expression of unimpressed disapproval, she thought it suited Copia rather well.
Aemelia continued to cringe at the gaudy interior and the limo’s engine stuttered into life which prompted her to reach over and close the door on her right. Whilst she ensured the door was firmly in place, Copia was really starting to settle into the setting. The creak of his leather sleeves on the leather upholstery was obvious as he slowly spread his arms across the width of the backseats and he tipped his head back with a thoughtful expression, his legs soon mirroring the actions of his arms. Once Aemelia backed into her seat and rested her spine against the cushioning, Copia raised one of his arms a little so that he could coolly flick a gloved hand towards the rear-view mirror.
The vehicle began to steadily roll away from the curb due to his smooth action and he nodded in approval, relaxing his arms over the seats as he risked a quick glance across his right shoulder to check up on Aemelia. He tilted his head inquisitively, noticing that she was sat unusually stiff. His curiosity quickly turned to concern... he’d hoped that the comfort of a limo would ease the stress of travelling, but to his disappointment, she still seemed to be unsettled.
"You comfortable?" he asked in a barely audible murmur, wincing as his irises explored her pale features, concerned that she was too set on hammering her bloodshot eyes into the fuzzy carpet beneath their feet to return his gaze. "If you are feeling too hot... I can always ask the driver man to bump up the A.C. Or you could always just... take off your coat, or maybe even... a few more clothes to keep you a little more... chill, you know?"
"I'm fine." she grumbled in disinterest, shuffling over her seat slightly until she was a bit more comfy. "I just think a limo is bloody uncalled for."
He also shuffled over his seat, subtly mimicking her movements to inch closer and closer to her left side.
"Ahhh, c'maaan, Miss Vial. Nothing is uncalled for now.” he replied in his usual flippant manner, wearing a small wily smile. “I am Papa, so I have to make sure my presence is at least felt... people may not understand, or even know of me. But this limo is the statement I need, ok? They will know that somebody very, very important is arou - "
"For what... forty minutes?” she retorted emptily, her black eyes frosting over. “ You can't have forty minutes off from your title? You have to flash your dick into everyone's faces at all times? I didn't realise that was in your... contract or whatever it is you've fucking signed.”
"I... have to do what?" he murmured in amazed confusion, searching her unimpressed face with large, hopeful eyes. She huffed gloomily and slowly raised her head, turning herself slightly to reluctantly meet his stare with her impossibly black eyes. The creak of leather was present again as he clenched his gloves over the edge of the seats and he swallowed thickly, resisting the temptation of getting lost in her eyes.
"You ah... want something - ehhhh - to drink?" he anxiously diverted, suddenly awkwardly stumbling out of his seat to clumsily dart his way towards the limo’s deluxe mini-fridge, which was embedded into the mid-section of seats that were located to the sides of the vehicle.
"The car's still moving, Copia." she stated simply.
"Ah shush, I know, I know! But I... I am real fucking thirsty."
She exhaled loudly and shaded her eyes with a palm, not daring to watch him struggle to stay still. Somehow, he managed to prise open the mini-bar, though after a few cringe-worthy seconds, he fought to keep hold of the items he’d swiped up from its contents. Eventually, after the movement of the car caused the fridge to smack shut, he managed to stagger his way back to her, clutching their bottles of chilled beverages to his chest. Once he arrived, he let out a muffled grunt as he dumped himself onto the seat beside her... and to his stunned surprise, he was sat a lot closer to her than he had planned. Their sleeves brushed and their thighs grazed and his blushing cheeks were imminent. He cautiously moved his leg away from her and the thought of her sturdy legs caused a little squeak to escape his throat... though he just about managed to cover it over with a conveniently gruff cough.
“So...” he began in a high tone, acting like nothing had ever occurred. "... we got Champagne... for me."
He abruptly – and to Miss Vial’s relief, successfully – uncorked a half bottle of Champagne. His mismatched eyes quickly followed the trail of the cork as it popped off and landed over the seating located towards the centre of the vehicle. He shrugged and took the bottle in his right glove, swiftly necking down his first small swig before he propped it between his legs, trapping it in place with his thighs. She narrowed her eyes at him as he seized hold of another bottle he’d been clutching to his chest, and her expression seemed to soften slightly when he handed it to her.
"Coke for you..." he murmured, her gaze shifting before he could catch hold of her eyes again. She focused on the boisterous, colourful lights through the window to her right but blindly accepted the bottle of Diet Coke by blindly snatching it from his hand. And just as she began to screw off the lid of the bottle, he cleared his throat and threw a little plastic bag between his palms... he was thankful for whoever had left the little bag of white powder in the fridge.
"And coke for me too." he added beneath his breath, the sound of rustling plastic causing Aemelia to pause her actions. She abruptly turned her head to face him and glared at the small helping of white powder, clawing her slender hands around the cold neck of the glass bottle.
"Don't you fucking dare.” she scolded, raising her voice enough to attract his attention... he peered at her with the most innocent, shiny eyes she had ever seen. “ Did you not learn anything from all those hours we were held up at customs?! If you think I'm going to put up with your high mug for a week... you can fuck off. I'll take the first available flight home. All you've done since we left the fucking Ministry is take the absolute piss, so don't start fuckin' adding more shit now. You even think about opening that bag... I'm gone. I mean it."
Copia winced, but her scolding eyes easily persuaded him to huff out in defeat. The packet rustled loudly as he reached over to a small panel of buttons below the window to his left. The tinted window pane cracked open with a whir and she widened her eyes at him in confusion.
"Ok, ok... " he sighed, casually tossing the small bag out of the window before seamlessly closing it again. She parted her mouth to say something but swiftly decided on silence when he smoothly turned back around to face her with a sincere expression.
"I admit, I have... been relying on that shit a lot more since - "
"Your promotion?" she cut in, tightly clutching the bottle of Diet Coke to her chest to comfort herself.
"Since you left." he confessed in a small voice, causing her expression to soften into something melancholic. "Not that... I am blaming you for it, of course I am not. You... had your reasons to leave, I get it. You regarded our careers and our... friendship higher than I did... so, of course, you were right to leave. I was just... acting really... fucking stupid, heh heh."
His sudden apprehensive demeanour and rather sad confession made her want to explain the truth to him there and then. She wanted to tell him why she’d had to leave. Wanted to tell him how Imperator had backed her into a corner. Wanted to describe to him how she had been ominously pursued by his very own Ghouls... how she had been left buried - crushed – beneath thick wads of dried soil for months. How she was thankful for the mysterious entity that dwelled within her, for it had shrouded her in a strange protective stasis until she’d found the energy to wake up...
But she couldn’t just off-load such information to him now. Not then, when the two of them were weary from their long-haul flight. Not then, when he’d just admitted he had a slight substance problem in the back of a limousine that was driving through the vibrant streets of Las Vegas...
"Please don't use that shit." she eventually settled on mumbling, wincing as she looked at the carpet below her feet. A searing hiss split through the short silence that fell between them when she abruptly snapped the seal of her bottle’s lid.
"Experience is talking... no?" Copia asked softly, briefly closing his eyes as he tipped his head back to down a more generous helping of his Champagne.
"Yep." she confirmed, pressing the glass bottle to her lips to take her first cold sip of Diet Coke.
"You wanna... talk about it or - ?"
"No, those demons are long gone for me.” she said sincerely after swallowing down her first mouthful. “But they’ve been replaced with other ones, I s’pose. One being the fuckin' anti-christ. I’m not sure what’s worse... the drugs or... you.”
"Are you... saying that... I am like drugs? I do not understand." Copia asked in a curious tone of voice, unable to resist smirking as he studied her face intently.
"No. I'm saying that... as much as drugs are bad, I can refuse them. But unfortunately, you've made it impossible for me to say no to you."
"Ohhhh!” he exclaimed in over-dramatic realisation, patting the backs of their seats with his free hand. “So it is... almost like... I seee... you are saying you are addicted to my company instead of the drugs?"
"No. I'm saying that you're an evil, manipulative rat-bag." she quietly growled in annoyance, hastily turning her head to shoot him with her indifferent glare.
He clutched the half-bottle of Champagne to his chest and chuckled impishly, suddenly finding himself confident enough to send her a playful wink.
"Heh, heh... well, sure. I can be... but only if I really, reaaally want something...”
10 : Papa’s Platinum Card
The final stretch to the hotel was understated compared to the consistent miles of neon lights they had passed since their arrival. But the beige stack of carved masonry that shaded over the building’s tarmacked drop off and arched entrance was fairly impressive. Supported by stone columns, it trapped in the golden glow of thin strip-lights that were embedded into the walls either side of a revolving door... it looked like a place of comfort and safety in the faint blackness of night. Reluctantly glancing at the tinted glass beside Copia, Aemelia was slightly disappointed how lavish the place looked... but given her company, she shouldn’t have been surprised that they had arrived at such a place at all.
The limousine steadily followed the arc of smooth tarmac and eventually rolled to a halt, stopping parallel to the elaborate arched entrance. After peering at the revolving door through the thick tinted glass, Copia excitedly jumped out of his seat, bounding down the length of the vehicle’s slender interior so that he could give the driver’s plastic screen a couple of firm pats with a leather-clad hand. Aemelia didn’t so much as blink and simply stayed seated, emptily staring down at the velvet floor beneath the soles of her polished oxfords.
“You drove very well.” Copia praised their chauffeur in a composed, authoritative tone. “I’ll make sure I give you a little bonus when I transfer your payment tonight. It should be in your account in... eh... a couple hours... unless I get lucky, heh heh.”
“Heh, enjoy your honeymoon, sir.” the driver replied in a gruff voice, which caused Copia’s eyes to widen. He tilted his head in confusion and suspended his gesturing gloves mid-air.
“Eh... what?!” he squeaked out in bewildered surprise. “Honey... honeymoon? Ohhhhh... no, no, we are not – ehhhh – I’m not her - ahh you know what, fuck it - I’ll enjoy my honeymoon, heh heh... and you continue to have a pleasant evening too, ok?”
He could just make out the fuzzy outline of a thumbs up through the thick pane of smoky grey plastic and gave the panel another grateful tap, swivelling around to hurry back to the rear seats.
“Good, good... thank you, thank you.” he anxiously muttered beneath his breath, darting towards the backseat. Once he arrived there, he shuffled towards the seat he’d previously been occupying and hunched down, reaching a glove towards a stiff door handle. Not wanting to waste any more time, he swiftly swung the door open until there was room for him to gracefully hop out. He nimbly slipped out of the interior and once he reached his full stature, confidently resting the soles of his chelsea boots over the tarmac, he brushed his hands down his front, ensuring that there weren’t any creases in his leathery attire. He couldn’t resist glancing around at his bustling, illuminated surroundings and smirked in quiet approval. Clearing his throat, he then returned his attention to the limousine and dipped down, draping an arm around the edge of the door to gently open it further. He ducked down a little more to peer at the limo’s interior, politely extending a gloved hand towards the unimpressed Aemelia inside.
When she met his stare with stern, squinting eyes, he quietly chuckled and sent her a playful wink, hoping that she would actually embrace his polite gesture. But to his disappointment, his charm didn’t appear to work at all, for her black irises only hardened into daggers and she drilled them into him as she snapped open the opposite door, bundling herself out so that she no longer had to focus on scolding him.
He awkwardly shuffled backwards when she slammed the door, the entire vehicle quaking. He swallowed and gently closed the door in front of him, studying her actions with a quizzical expression. She rounded the rear of the car with purpose and propped open the modest tail-gate, oblivious to the fact that the driver had opened his door to assist them. Before the driver could do anything else, she snatched up their luggage from the small confines of the boot – tucking her leather doctor’s bag beneath her left arm and clutching at the straps of Copia’s two immaculate trunks with her tensed fingers – and then used one of her elbows to firmly nudge the tail-gate down.
And then, once the latch clicked, she acted like she was the only one present, wordlessly heading towards the hotel’s entrance. Deciding that he didn’t want to excuse her actions to the driver, Copia swiftly followed her, soon breaking into a slight jog in order to keep up with her.
It wasn’t long before she reached the entrance and when she considered entering, she paused for a moment, waiting for the door to revolve a little more, and then she darted into the next vacant compartment. When she began to steadily walk in time with the door’s cycle, she felt something firmly bump against the backs of her shoulders. She sighed deeply but didn’t say a word, knowing – from the subtle sound of panting - that Copia had sprinted in order to slip into the small gap behind her. Luckily, it didn’t take long for the door to swivel around to the next arched entrance and once there was enough room, she bolted from the compartment, not wishing to prolong the time Copia spent lurking behind her.
He nimbly strode into the lobby after her and sped up until he was level with her, swiftly slowing down to match her pace. When they started to slowly reach the centre of the deserted lobby, Aemelia’s gaze settled on a sleek black reception desk that was located to their left and Copia trailed his mismatched eyes over their surroundings, quietly fascinated by the place’s elegance. It was like a strange time warp – the finishes on the décor had elements of ancient Greece, but the sprawl of leather couches, slim coffee tables and art deco lamps that lined the edges of the generous space were from muddled eras... and they captured Copia’s attention immediately. He was quite proud that he had an excuse to stay in such a luxurious hotel now that he was Papa, and couldn’t quite hide the smug smile that had crept over his mouth.
Unlike Copia, Aemelia didn’t seem impressed by their surroundings at all. Once she arrived at the desolate reception desk, she lowered her head to sear her seething black eyes into the polished mosaic floor, hoping that she wasn’t going to be alone with Copia for much longer... he was frustrating her enough already. Noticing that she was busy glaring at the floor, he decided to smoothly slide into the tight gap in front of her, standing up on his tip-toes to see if anyone was hiding behind the other side of the desk... but there was no one to be seen. He huffed in disappointment and dropped back onto his cuban heels, furrowing his brow. He perched an elbow on the immaculate surface of the reception desk like he was leaning on a bar in some seedy club, rather than the front desk of a lavish hotel. He cleared his throat and confidently reached for a silver service bell – which was located to his right - firmly pressing it with a leathery palm. When its high pitched ring cut through the vacuous space of the vacant lobby, Aemelia gritted her teeth together and her grip on their luggage became a lot more vicious.
"Did you really have to book somewhere so extravagant?" she murmured in annoyance, raising her head up a fraction so that she could narrow her eyes at him in disapproval. "You're not exactly being subtle. I think you’re making it plainly obvious that you’re the figure-head of a fuckin’ religion. I mean, c’mon... you wear your skull-paint everywhere you go, you turn up at places in a fuckin’ limo and now you have us booked in at this nobby hotel. I thought there wasn’t going to be any fuss on this trip.”
"Relaaaax, Miss Vial. This is a four-star, ok?” he responded in a flippant tone, coolly resting his elbow on the very edge of the desk so that he could peer his amused eyes at her over his right shoulder. “And I got us a twin room so... it is nothing too extravagant. And... this is not just a trip, Miss Vial. It is a business trip, ok? I had no choice in coming here, remember?”
She rolled her eyes and swiftly opened her mouth to retort... but she decided against saying anything at all and clapped her mouth shut. He turned his head away from her to focus on the vacant space opposite him and drummed his leather-clad fingers on the pristine surface of the desk, letting out a subdued sigh. To his surprise, it seemed their brief exchange had drawn some attention, for a wall of large, clinical tiles behind the desk split into two doors, and when they swung open, they revealed a dolled-up woman with flawless tanned skin and bleach-blonde hair that was scraped back into a high pony-tail. It was clear that the woman had high standards because her opal blouse and black pencil skirt were creaseless, and the subtle makeup on her face was just as clean cut.
Due to the smiling receptionist’s abrupt arrival behind the desk, Copia’s cool, slouched stance stiffened but he effortlessly returned the woman’s stare like her presence didn’t bother him at all, sending her the most charming gaze he could muster. It was lucky that he had his back to Aemelia or she would have probably cringed at his change in behaviour...
“Welcome, how can I help? Would you like to reserve a room, or do you already have a booking with us today?” the receptionist chirped, relaying the words like she had said them a thousand times... even her beaming smile seemed somewhat scripted. Copia stalled for a few seconds before he blinked in realisation, like her words had only just registered with him.
“Oh! Yes, yes, we have a... reservation.” he swiftly replied, nodding at her eagerly when he heard the subtle clack of a computer keyboard.
“May I have your name, sir?"
He cleared his throat in a smug manner and leaned forwards slightly, like he was eagerly anticipating the woman’s reaction.
"Ah, yes – ahem – it should be under Papa Emeritus -"
"Papa Emeritus! Oh! Welcome back, your Dark Excellency!” the woman cheerfully exclaimed, genuine glee briefly gleaming in her light blue eyes. “It’s real good to have you back with us. You... don't appear to have booked your personalised suite, but we can change that right away, free of cost. It would be a shame to break tradition, you've been such a loyal guest to us in past years.”
"I... have?" he faintly muttered, shuffling around slightly to flick his anxious eyes between the cheerful receptionist and Aemelia, who was incredibly still and undeniably glum. “You... want our passports?”
“Seeing as it’s you, your Dark Excellency, we don’t need to see anything at all. The years have... changed you quite a bit, ha ha... but you are still looking well. You want me to go ahead and reserve your usual suite?" the woman asked in a buoyant tone, clicking away on a computer mouse as her other hand shuffled through some papers below the surface of the desk. Aemelia suddenly snorted in amusement but neither her face nor her body moved a muscle. Copia swallowed and tilted his head a little, anxiously facing the receptionist with curious eyes, but he didn’t dare mention anything about the strange situation.
“Ehhh... sure, sure.” he quickly replied, leaning over the desk a little more so that he could whisper to her. “Just between you and me... you got... anything around here that would maybe help... calm my associate? She is a little nervous about being away from home, you know?”
“There should be plenty of items available in your suite, sir.” she stated with a wide smile, her blue eyes twinkling. “But I’m not allowed to disclose any more details about that. We hold confidentiality high in every single one of our fifty hotels. And this one is no exception.”
He tilted his head even more and parted his lips to respond, but he had no idea what to say. His confusion had rendered him speechless and before he could find the confidence to question her further, the woman had already swiped up a neat pile of freshly printed papers and draped them over the desk beside his elbow.
“I’m gonna need y’all to sign on the dotted lines... here, here... heeere and here.” she stated in an empty tone, dropping a fresh ballpoint pen on top of the thin stack of papers before she settled her gaze on the glow of her computer screen, occupying herself by loudly typing on her keyboard. Copia quietly obliged her and reluctantly trailed his eyes towards the papers, awkwardly taking hold of the pen in his leather-clad fingers. He quietly murmured beneath his breath and actually managed to read the first paragraph... but he immediately grew bored of the walls of text. He skimmed his eyes over the remainder of the first sheet and continued to murmur like he was actually reading it all.
And then, after crudely signing his name, he flicked through the next few pages and repeated his actions, but much faster this time. After a few more minutes, he finally signed the last dotted line with a firm flick of the pen’s nib, and he cleared his throat, uncomfortably swivelling around to acknowledge the silent woman standing behind him. He carefully leaned towards her, gripping the papers tight to his chest when he reached out his other hand towards her, offering her the pen. Aemelia raised her head slightly to firmly drill her black irises into him.
“I think she wants your signature too...” he whispered, gesturing his head towards the papers that he was hugging to himself.
“Just put a fuckin’ smiley face.” she responded darkly, persisting to wear her mask of indifference.
“Ehhhh...”
“That’s how I sign shit... but I’m a bit occupied at the moment with your luggage.” she quipped with a little more volume, which caused the receptionist to glare at the computer screen... apparently boldness wasn’t commonplace in the trendy lobby of a Vegas hotel.
“Ahhh, ok, ok... I will sign for you.” Copia quietly sighed out in defeat, turning back around to add some form of a smiley face to the lines on the bottom of each page.
“The eyes are crosses, by the way. Don’t fuck it up.” Aemelia curtly added, lowering her gaze to the ground.
“Ok, ok, I got it.” he mumbled, drawing each little face in a neat fashion. After another minute or so, the papers were completed and he handed them to the receptionist, who immediately raised her head, plastered on a smile and slid them out of his grasp. There was some more shuffling of papers before she nodded and seized hold of a card reader with her right hand. She briefly glanced towards Copia again and lifted up the machine so that he could see her intentions, giving him another overly cheerful smile.
“Cash or - ?“
“Card, heh heh.” he smoothly cut in, already sliding a hand into the confines of his black leather tailcoat. After a few clumsy seconds, he whipped out a spotless platinum credit card, pincering it with two leather-clad fingers. Oblivious to the receptionist’s blank expression, he cleared his throat and confidently handed the card over to her, proud that he had full access to the Clergy’s accounts - where a surprising accumulation of wealth was at his disposal – and immensely smug that it had his official title embossed onto its surface in stark silver lettering.
After slotting it into the card reader, she handed the modest machine over to him and he cradled it in one of his leathery palms, squinting his eyes to read the string of instructions displayed over the small screen. Aemelia gritted her teeth but refrained from making another comment when she heard the telling beeps of him entering his PIN number. There was an unsettling silence until she heard the whir of a receipt being printed... and she was silently relieved that he could actually afford the hotel for the night. She’d been fully expecting his card to be declined.
Reluctantly raising her head, she dismally watched the exchange between Copia and the receptionist... but she really wasn’t paying attention to anything that was being said. She observed him with narrowed eyes when he slipped his warm receipt into the inside of his coat and leaned forwards, opening his palms for the prized key to their room. Once it was dropped into his grasp, he was wide-eyed as he listened to the woman, nodding his head intently. Aemelia’s unimpressed eyes lingered on him for quite some time before he uttered a grateful “thank you, thank you...” and turned on his heels, forcing her to blink out of whatever cynical thoughts she was having at that particular moment.
Copia picked up his pace, eagerly jogging towards the left of the lobby where a spotless stainless steel elevator was located, the soles of his shoes quietly clacking. Aemelia huffed in irritation but spun around, slowly striding after him before he took off without her. But before she could catch up to him, a figure cut across in front of her, disrupting her path. She froze in place and tightened her hold on the luggage, glaring her concerned black eyes at the person in front of her. Small hands tried to snatch hold of the straps on Copia’s cases and she abruptly swung her arms back, ensuring that she kept hold of them.
The youthful bell boy before her nervously hugged his arms around himself and trembled due to her intimidating glare. He was a few inches shorter than she was and incredibly slim, and compared to the the receptionist, he looked like he belonged to a hotel from the thirties rather than the fairly modern one they were present in at that moment. His bell boy cap was a faded shade of turquoise and slightly askew, spiky white hair poked out from beneath it and it matched the gaunt, ivory complexion of his features, which were scrunched up with nervousness. He wrung his hands nervously and dropped his timid grey eyes to the floor beneath his immaculate brown brogues.
"Oi, keep your hands to yourself. Do these look like they're for you?" she snapped, scowling when the teenager continued to avoid her intense gaze by staring at the ground.
"S-Sorry ma'am... I-I’m just doin' my job - "
"You can see that I already have hold of these bags. Your hands aren’t needed... so fuck off." she curtly scolded, shuffling to the side so that she could push by him. With the path to the elevator now clear of any obstacles, she marched after Copia – who had been contentedly waiting for the lift to arrive and therefore was contentedly unaware of the awkward event that had just occurred behind him – hoping that their journey to their room didn’t take too long. When she stopped a few steps behind him, there was a satisfying bell ring and the glossy elevator doors retracted. Copia swivelled around and extended out a gloved hand, politely inviting Aemelia to go ahead of him. She rolled her eyes but obliged him, shuffling into the limited space of the elevator. She clung to one of the furthest corners from the doors and her body became tense when he entered and filled the space beside her.
Even Copia seemed surprised at how cramped it was... he was a little disappointed, considering it was a four-star hotel he would have expected it to be spacious, but he decided to push the slight annoyance to the back of his mind for the time being. He shuffled about until he was stood in the opposite corner to Aemelia, oblivious to the fact she was uncomfortable with how tight the space was... she was already desperate to get out, but she clenched her jaw and decided to try and tolerate the situation instead.
They silently stood side by side for a least ten seconds before the doors automatically slid closed due to the lack of activity, and she suddenly felt like she was present in some kind of hell. Hell certainly could have been the madness of being trapped in a tiny metal box with Copia, but she was somewhat optimistic in the back of her mind, reminding herself that things could have been a whole lot worse. She knitted her brows together in discomfort and glanced towards him when she felt the subtle nudge of his shoulder against her right side, hoping he would actually do something. He was cautiously wavering from foot to foot like he was about to break out into a dance at any moment, and she decided that she couldn’t allow him to prolong the time they spent in the tight space together. She couldn’t cope with small spaces after being buried alive, but she supposed it was a trivial consequence to deal with... after all, the outcome could have been far much worse for her...
Aemelia shook her head to stop herself from dwelling on her thoughts, not wishing to prolong the inevitable any longer. At the sound of her clearing her throat, Copia gestured a hand wildly and let out a loud “Oh!” of realisation, clicking his tongue at his own stupidity... Aemelia certainly couldn’t operate the elevator when both of her hands were occupied. Not wanting to seem clumsy, he swiftly launched himself towards the panel of round buttons, and in doing so, he had leaned towards her, accidentally brushing himself against her. Blush coated his cheeks as he awkwardly reached for the appropriate button – which happened to be labelled sixty-six – and he was suddenly so overwhelmed by the feel of her form against him that he lost balance and went toppling forwards...
“Ah shit!”
He tumbled towards the panel and his thumb managed to prod the button labelled sixty-six... but his slip had also caused him to press the buttons for the four floors below as well. He withdrew like the panel had scolded him and retreated to the safety of a corner, ensuring that there was a wide gap between him and Aemelia this time.
"Fucking fantastic." she grumbled through clenched teeth, glaring at the five glowing buttons with disdain. “I honestly don’t think you could’ve fucked that up more, well done.”
11 : Papa’s Black Book
After their drawn out elevator ride, they promptly exited the tight space as soon as the doors began to slide open. And not wanting to waste any more time, they managed to traipse the spacious, airy hallways of floor sixty-six with Copia gracefully leading the way. Aemelia was quiet and simply followed him at a nonchalant pace, keeping her head low as she focused on the location of his chelsea boots over the grey carpet ahead of her. Thankfully, the hallways were empty due to the late hour of night so they could navigate around the floor fairly quickly. Silently wandering after him, she realised that he was also incredibly quiet, but she decided not to question such a thing. The last thing she wanted was another infuriating conversation with him.
After another few silent minutes, they finally reached their destination. Copia slowed and smoothly turned around, angling himself so that he could hold up a leather hand to halt her. She abruptly obliged his gesture despite his suspicious lack of speech, and watched intently as he took a step to the right, where a thick mahogany door was embedded into the wall. It didn’t match the aesthetic of the hotel at all. In comparison to the light cream walls of the corridors, it was a varnished shade of burgundy and the silver roman numerals that were cleanly pinned to the centre were intriguing but intimidating. Naturally, Copia’s curiosity peaked and he immediately leaned forwards, shoving the key into the lock with an enthusiastic fist.
He confidently pushed the door open and there was a satisfying lack of creaking. Then he stepped inside and Aemelia tailed him closely, a little uncomfortable with how eager he was behaving. Once both of them had entered, the door silently shut behind them and lights appeared to sense movement for they flickered into life, effortlessly illuminating the roomy pad with a subtle verdant hue. Even with the weak lighting, they could scan their eyes over the room with ease.
Stretching before them was a generous bachelor’s pad, filled with the most luxurious of amenities. The majority of the plush emerald floorspace was occupied by a curved sofa which was covered in shiny black leather, and opposite the comfy furnishing, was a matching cabinet unit that looked like it had never been touched. Doors to three modest mini-bars were snugly tucked into the lowest compartments and they opened out onto a short glossy coffee table, where a few empty ice buckets were stacked on top of each other. The cabinet’s central surface supported the feet of a black flat-screen TV that was such a great size that it rivalled even the late Papa Nihil’s living room set-up. A surround sound system was also hooked up to the TV and followed the curve of the stylish sofa, ensuring it was used to its full potential. And lastly, to the very right of the space, was a frosted glass door that led to an en-suite.
However, on the left side of the pad – which happened to be the farthest away from the entrance where they were stood - there was far more space and a lot less clutter. The emerald carpeting was spotless and effortlessly complemented a king size bed’s black satin sheets. Located to the right of the bed were two glass slide doors that stretched from floor to ceiling, and the lack of drapes was understandable, considering the vibrant view of Vegas’ night-lights.
Even though the place was far more high-class than either of them were used to, Copia was the first to step further into the space. He strode through like he owned the place, immediately heading for the leather-clad couch. Aemelia continued to survey her surroundings with a furrowed brow, oblivious to the fact that Copia was glancing towards the only bed with a conniving smirk. He knew that a single bed never stopped her from sleeping beside him before... and he was suddenly feeling extremely over-confident. Once he had reached the sofa, he perched himself on the very end, resting his behind on the very edge of the creaking cushions. He awkwardly stretched forwards, grunting loudly with effort as he reached for the door of the closest mini-bar, intending to thoroughly inspect the fridge’s contents. And once he was successful in opening the door, he began to raid through the couple of shelves, pulling out each bottle or can to rest them in his palms... just so he could have a good look at what tipples were on offer.
Whilst he continued to inspect the beverages – which seemed to be his highest priority at that particular moment – Aemelia strolled away from the mahogany door, headed to the nearest side of the bed. When she arrived there, she let out a subdued grunt, carefully dropping Copia’s cases to the floor with a gentle thump. She set down her leather doctor’s bag too and sighed in relief, rubbing her lower back as she returned to her usual stance. She narrowed her black eyes, studying the intricate embroidery of the black and emerald sheets that were splayed over the king size bed. The material was littered with Grucifixes, and their presence was more noticeable due to their stark white colouring. She tilted her head in curiosity, leaning down to run her fingertips over the lavish material. It was silky to the touch and she was so exhausted from their flight that she was tempted to simply collapse onto the mattress then and there... but she refrained from doing so and retracted her hand from the sheets, rounding the end of the bed before she changed her mind.
As she continued to scout out their room for the night, Copia was settling over the sofa now that he had chosen a nightcap. He’d poured himself a shot of Jack Daniels and was content channel hopping, the stark glare of the TV screen lighting up the paleness of his painted features. He slouched over the comfortable upholstery, splaying his legs when he finally found a decent channel, which happened to be showing late-eighties music videos. He shrugged and altered the volume until it was at an enjoyable level, tossing the remote to the cushions beside him. He nodded in approval and started to kick off his shoes with his heels, holding his beverage to his lips. He was quite content sitting before the bright flickering screen, and soon, his free hand began to pull at a couple of his jacket's buttons. He exhaled contentedly now that he was starting to undress, his mismatched eyes glued to the TV screen.
"I can’t stay here tonight. There's only one bed.” Aemelia suddenly complained in an irritated tone, her voice swiftly cutting through the pleasant, care-free atmosphere. Copia reluctantly turned his head towards her and rested his gleaming eyes upon her. She was stood at the end of the bed with her arms crossed over her chest, her dark eyes daring him to speak. Her stubborn body language caused a smirk to crawl onto his mouth and he chuckled into his shot glass, unable to resist trailing his eyes down her full figure.
"Ah... yes... so there is. Well spotted, Miss Vial.” he replied in a teasing tone, his voice silky from the whiskey. "My original booking was actually a twin room but... how could I resist a free upgrade, ah?"
Now that his black leather tailcoat was a little looser, he allowed it to sit open and coolly draped his free arm over the back of the sofa, trailing his eyes up from her shoes to flirtatiously gaze at her deadpan features again. In return, she shot him a cold stare and he dropped the shot glass from his mouth, clutching it to his chest more firmly.
"You do not believe me? C’maaan, I honestly did not intend for us to spend the night in this suite... but then... we have dealt with worse, no? You remember the case in France when we had to share a - "
"I remember." she abruptly cut in, desperate for him to stop reminiscing about an event that only reminded her of the investigation’s depressing conclusion. “Vividly.”
"Cool, cool... so... there is no problem sharing with me again? I swear... I will not try anything with you." he assured sincerely, meeting her hardened gaze with hopeful yet honest eyes as she reached for the pockets inside her blazer.
"Yeah, I’m sure it will be fine. There's plenty of space on the bed." she hesitantly reasoned. “I’d rather not get wrinkles from sleeping on that leather sofa anyway.”
"Heh, ah yes, you would be wrinklier than a mole rat’s scrotum, heh heh.” he joked, a couple more chuckles tumbling out of his mouth before his amusement was unexpectedly cut short and stern concern replaced his mirth. “What about my... eh... nakedness? You know that it's impossible for me to fall asleep with clothes on.”
"You can sleep under the sheets. I'll just sleep over them, it’s kinda stuffy in here anyway." she grumbled, slipping a cigarette into the side of her mouth. She was in desperate need of a smoke now that she knew she would be sleeping beside him that night. With her cigarette resting between her lips, she headed towards the glass sliding doors, planning on unleashing a bit of breeze into the place. She let out a relieved sigh once one door was open and stepped towards it, curious to experience the balcony outside.
However, before she had time to do so, a thunderous knock came from the mahogany door. Copia jumped out of his skin at the sound and the last remnants of his whiskey spilled onto his front. He growled and spewed out a string of curses, slamming his empty glass onto the coffee table. Aemelia ignored him and enthusiastically bolted towards the door like she was excited for some reason. As she did so, Copia just let the chilled liquid seep into his chest and he sighed in exasperation, draping both of his arms over the back of the sofa. Then he peered at her over one of his shoulders, quietly puzzled by her actions.
He observed her with intrigue when she pulled the door open and a slim, anaemic bell boy nervously stepped towards her, clutching two grim-looking hessian sacks to his front. From the wince on his pallid face, it was clear that they were quite hefty. Guilt was evident on her features and she immediately dug into her pockets, eyeing the young man with worry. After swiping up a wad of cash, she extended a hand towards the boy and frowned, quietly regretful that she had scolded him earlier that night. Although she didn’t verbally apologise, he understood completely. He nodded his head gratefully and wore a crooked smile when she reached her free hand forward to snatch one of the heavy sacks away from him. With an arm now free, the bell boy nervously gathered up the splay of notes from her palm and replaced them with the second sack. With the exchange now completed, the white-haired bell boy scurried off, not daring to look Miss Vial in the eyes again.
Copia continued to stare over his shoulder, squinting at her in bewilderment. And when the door slammed shut, he narrowed his eyes even more, observing her effortlessly lowering the suspicious hessian sacks to the floor with a dense thud.
“What the fuck are they?” he questioned at such an unexpectedly loud volume that it even seemed to surprise him. She scowled and turned to face him, her cigarette still snugly clutching to the left side of her mouth.
“Well, I couldn’t have us driving around without any equipment. I decided to have the contents of the Ambassador’s trunk shipped over with us. Overnight shipping might cost the Earth, but supernatural overnight shipping costs the fucking universe.” she explained, her cigarette see-sawing every time she spoke. “I’m just relieved you texted me the right address or I’d never have seen any of this shit again... but that’s the risk I took. Thanks for not fucking up on that, I really appreciate it.”
“Oh... “ he squeaked out, his cheeks glowing a faint shade of pink as his eyes widened with realisation. “... you are very welcome, Miss Vial. I have never heard about this... supernatural shipping.”
She slowly slipped out of her black oxfords and started to move towards the open slide doors, but she ensured that she still kept her eyes on him, unable to hide the amusement in her eyes.
“Well, you’ve probably never heard of it because... it’s not exactly legal. Hence the hefty price tag.” she informed him with the slightest hint of a smirk. He glared at her in fascination, intrigued by what she was telling him and he parted his lips to ask her another question, but before he could find his voice, she had already stepped through the open slide doors, eagerly anticipating having a smoke out on the balcony.
Deciding that it was probably best to accept what she had just revealed to him instead of furiously contemplating over it, he shuffled over the leather couch, reluctantly turning his head to face the flashing images plastered over the TV screen. And after a few seconds, he sighed, snatching his arms away from the back of the sofa so that he could swipe up the TV remote and lower its volume, finding that he couldn’t focus on his thoughts. Now that the rock music was playing at a quieter level, he sat up a lot straighter, sliding a gloved hand into the inside of his jacket. After a brief search of his pockets, he eventually grabbed hold of the item he’d had in mind and pried it out of his jacket. His left palm cradled a petite notebook, which adorned black hard-back covers and little sprigs of silky red ribbons.
The small book was one of the few things Nihil had wanted Copia to keep, and it continued to intrigue him. Whenever he couldn’t think straight, he would slip it out and flick through the pages. It was only three-quarters full but it was littered with mysterious lists of names and numbers, meaningless scrawled memos, dubious presses of foreign symbols, plans or solutions to puzzles and poorly drawn sketches of Sister Imperator that Copia would quickly flick past before he started to feel nauseous.
He carefully poised it in his left hand and turned the pages with the other, curious to see if he would find anything on the supernatural shipping service that Miss Vial had mentioned. Impatient that he didn’t appear to be finding any information from the late Papa Nihil’s scribbled ramblings, he raised from the sofa, keeping his eyes on the small page in his hand as he slowly drifted towards the open slide-doors. He wasn’t going to settle if he didn’t get any more answers... and he was sure that Aemelia Vial could expand on what she had already told him to settle his curiosity.
He politely stepped onto the balcony and the humid air swept into his face immediately, the smell of cigarette smoke filling his nostrils. He cautiously approached her until he was stood beside her, his eyes still glued to the modest black book that was tucked into his palm.
“I am surprised there is nothing mentioned about supernatural shipping in here... it sounds like something Papa Nihil would definitely have used a lot, you know?” he murmured, the sound of his quiet voice causing her to turn and lean her back on the wall of the balcony. Her obsidian gaze acknowledged the book in his grasp and she hummed thoughtfully, narrowing her eyes when she finished a long drag, white smoke swirling from her mouth and nostrils.
“You kept something of his? I didn’t think you’d keep any reminder of him, given your... disagreements with him when he was alive.” she responded bluntly, raising her gaze to study his perplexed expression. Her words caused him to abruptly snap the book shut and he immediately slotted it back into his jacket, lifting his head a fraction so that he could softly return her stare.
“Yes, even with all the... animosity we had... I have to keep this book with me.” he said sincerely with a hint of melancholy clutching to the back of his throat. “He wanted it to be given to me, it was in his will. And it was all that he left me. I was next-in-line to be Papa by default, so... I guess he had nothing else to offer me. His only terms were that I use the rest of the book’s pages until it is full and that I keep it on my person at all times. I don’t like angering the dead so... I’m not going to go against his wishes."
She nodded in understanding and puffed out another visible breath, slowly shifting her eyes towards the attractive night-lights, barely resisting a small smile. Even though their conversation had come to a natural intermission, there was nothing unpleasant about the silence that had formed between them. She continued to look away from him, inspecting the display of neon lights dotted about the horizon ahead of them. Their colourful hues painted her pallid skin with a palette of faint pastel colours and his breaths shortened when he studied her with undivided admiration. His hands began to tremble and he stilled them by firmly clutching hold of the loose lapels of his jacket, but he still yearned for her to turn her head to face him. He was tempted to step towards her and cup his gloves around her face, desperate to press a kiss to her lips... but he decided against doing such a thing. He certainly didn’t want to put her off sleeping beside him that night...
Dismissing his simmering temptations with a short sigh, he padded away from the balcony to leave her in peace. Once he was back inside, he was already focused on carrying out his next task and headed towards the frosted glass door on the opposite side of the room. After the tiring long haul flight and the spilled whiskey, he was in need of a shower. Arriving at the door to the bathroom, he promptly flung it open, verbally hesitating as he searched the walls inside and outside of the room for a light switch. He narrowed his eyes and let go of the door, mumbling hesitations to himself as he cautiously poised his hands mid-air... and then firmly slapped his leathery-palms together in an echoing clap. The lights flashed on immediately.
“Heh, I knew that old shit couldn’t resist a fucking clapper...” he murmured with a smirk as he shook his head in amusement, shutting the door after himself.
12 : Seven Hell-even
"Your loan vehicle is right outside, your Dark Excellency. Happy travels... we hope to see you again soon."
With the keys to their rental car entwined around his gloved fingers and Aemelia’s doctor’s bag snugly settled in the other hand, Copia gave the receptionist a grateful nod, suavely cutting across the lobby with Aemelia hot on his tail. She clutched onto their luggage, the handles of his suitcases tucked into her palms as she trapped the two hessian sacks - which were still brimming with helpful equipment - beneath her arms.
Copia had opted to wear his plain red tailcoat on this particular day, which she was thankful for. She wouldn’t have coped with the creak of his black leather coat for two days running, especially after how infuriating their journey had been. After a fairly decent sleep, this day felt like a clean slate and although she didn’t show it, she was feeling silently optimistic about the journey ahead.
He led them out of the hotel, ensuring he waited for the next spacious compartment when he reached the revolving door. Upon entering, he heard her stepping behind him and he wore a small smile, but kept his head low, staring at the polished tips of his chelsea boots. Once the door swung further around, they briskly exited the place and the brightness of daylight made them both squint in protest. The tarmacked curve of road that was directly outside the hotel was bustling with various stylish cars, and small groups of elite-looking people lined the pavement, dressed in flashy suits or diamond encrusted summer dresses. To their relief, they managed to wander by without attracting anyone’s attention – despite the stark sight of Copia’s red suit and eye-catching face-paint - and Aemelia followed him closely, furrowing her brow at the luxurious cars that lined the curb-side. Most vehicles were black SUVs with tinted windows and she began to assume that an SUV would likely be what she ended up driving for the next few days... but she couldn’t have been more wrong.
Copia confidently traipsed beside the line of neatly parked vehicles but risked a quick glance over his left shoulder, his eyes gleaming with amusement once he acknowledged the curiosity on Miss Vial’s face. She looked contemplative as she examined the snaking row of matte black SUVs, admiring their intimidating yet unassuming aesthetic. Too caught up in inspecting the vehicles they passed, she failed to notice that Copia had come to a natural stop a few strides ahead of her. The corners of his mouth began to twitch when he swiftly turned his head to focus on a car that was located to his right...
A car that was noticeably parked at a more jaunty angle than the rest of the inconspicuous vehicles, and it was painted a dazzling, flawless white. It was the most overt, ego-stroke of a car Aemelia had seen for quite some time. With the ‘67 Pontiac GTO’s stark paint job, crimson interior and beast-like engine, Copia was certain that his choice of vehicle was going to impress her immensely.
Smugly confident, he smoothly slid himself onto the edge of the pristine bonnet, perching there a moment in the coolest manner he could manage. He shuffled around to face her with an over-confident smirk and rested her leather doctor’s bag over his lap. He watched her in subdued amusement as she slowly approached the side of the car with a cold, deadpan expression... but it was clear from the width of her eyes that she was slightly shocked.
"You've got to be fucking joking." she muttered through gritted teeth, seemingly horrified by the distinctive, glaring vehicle that strangely suited the suave anti-pope that was currently coolly perched on top of its hood at that particular moment.
"I know, I know... she’s a real stunner, ah?” he replied assuredly, a hint of flirtation coating his voice. “Even to rent, this baby cost a pretty penny... sure, I could have chosen something like these... fucking ugly things next door... but I thought you deserved to drive in more style than that. I figured something loud and... striking would be a lil’ more... fitting."
Her hands clenched around the handles of his snakeskin suitcases even tighter, and she slowly stepped in front of him so that she could scold him with her charcoal eyes... but her actions only seemed to encourage his smug amusement.
"White... of course it's bloody white. Of all the colours, you pick a fuckin' white car." she grumbled when she shook her head in disapproving disappointment, her annoyed comment causing the mischief on his features to abruptly vanish.
"Well, it was this or flaming hot magenta.” he said defensively, his mismatched eyes widening with worry when she suddenly turned away from him to storm towards the muscle car’s rear bumper. “ I figured this was a little more... conservative and... complements the two of us quite well, you know? Anyways... you are focusing on the colour too much, it is the shape of the model that's the real sexy part."
He twisted himself around so that he could stare at her over the low roof of the vehicle and she immediately met his gaze with cold, vacuous eyes.
"Just open the fuckin' doors, will you? I couldn't give a damn what car this is. You're stalling me and I want to get on with driving, so quit wasting my time." she snapped, prompting him to scramble off the bonnet in order to reach her side. Once he hurriedly arrived beside her after fumbling with the vehicle’s set of keys, he wrestled one of them into the tail-gate’s lock and eventually, he clumsily managed to pull it back out before the door sprung upwards. He carefully set down her doctor’s bag and then nimbly scurried out of her way to the right side of the car, busying himself by unlocking the passenger door. She slung each of his cases into the recesses of the trunk, ensuring each one was lying flat before she placed her hessian equipment sacks on top, and then she slammed the trunk shut, shaking her head in disgruntled disbelief. She was trying to get over the fact she was going to be driving a bright white muscle car but it seemed that the news was only just sinking in.
Copia flung open his door and once she arrived at the opposite side of the car, their gazes briefly met again before he tossed her the keys... which she effortlessly caught with a swipe of her right palm. With that, he eagerly hopped inside and Aemelia unlocked the driver’s side, emotionlessly climbing into the classic car like she did such a thing on a regular basis. When she finally perched herself onto the driver’s seat, they happened to pull their doors shut in unison and Copia let out a breathy chuckle, hunching forwards to reach a hand beneath his seat. He spent quite some time adjusting his seat into his preferred position, and although Aemelia was doing the same, she managed to settle on a position much quicker than he did... if the soles of her black oxfords could reach the foot pedals, she was satisfied.
When he eventually found a position that suited him, she wasted no time in turning the ignition... and after a few seconds of stuttering, the thunderous response of the roaring engine caused her eyebrows to rise in surprise. She hadn’t believed Copia’s words, but he had been completely right. Its engine sounded low and beast-like and she was almost tempted to turn her head to apologise to him for being so pessimistic... but once he launched forwards to turn the dials of the built-in radio, every speaker in the vehicle began to buzz for a few seconds... and then the first few droning notes of Prequelle filled the interior, the hairs on the back of their necks standing on end. He chuckled to himself proudly and she narrowed her eyes at him, suspicious of his amusement.
"Ohhh this rental company is getting five stars on Tripadvisor!" he exclaimed in a strained tone, quickly strapping his seat-belt across himself with a wide smirk.
Aemelia turned her head away from him and rolled her eyes... she suddenly got the feeling that their road trip was going to be an insufferable one.
After driving around for quite some time, they began to realise that the sight of an ashen Pontiac was incredibly rare. If they happened to stop at a red light, there was a high chance that strangers would run towards the sides of the car with their phones in front of their faces, desperate to capture a still image of its majesty. Every time a camera clicked or a finger pointed, a wily smirk crept onto Copia’s face and Aemelia would rev the engine to let him know she was fully aware of – and fully irritated by - the look on his face. Despite the overwhelming amount of attention their unique ride was getting, no one thought to look at the stern alchemist or the immensely pleased anti-pope that was sat inside. The by-standers were too mesmerized by the flawless paint job and snarl of the engine and Miss Vial was thankful for that at least.
By the time their surroundings became less urban and the wilderness of the desert brush and open road stretched out ahead of them, the excitable attention they had received was quickly forgotten, and Aemelia was content focusing on the tarmac ahead of them as the satisfying engine rumbled beneath her. And she became so addicted to the sound of the vehicle’s engine, and the way that it handled – not that she would ever admit such a thing to Copia – that it didn’t take long for the gas tank to run dry. The muscle car was thirsty, so they were forced to take breaks at gas stations often... which was a fortunate excuse for Copia to go snooping in any department stores that happened to be close by.
The first few stops, he hadn’t bothered snooping, but as soon as he spotted a sign for Seven Eleven, he made sure that he reminded Aemelia that she was running low on gasoline. She huffed and grudgingly turned the vehicle into the next exit, following the curved road until they came to another junction, where she slowed down a little to roll into a restless industrial park. After he easily persuaded her to drop him by the entrance to Seven Eleven while she filled up the gas tank, he was practically thrown from the vehicle. He clumsily flung himself out of the car and onto the pavement, only just keeping himself standing by scraping his soles over the ground. And once he heard the violent slam of the passenger door behind him, she purposely sped away from him, tires screeching over the tarmac as she ensured that the engine roared loudly. As much as she hadn’t said much to him since they’d left the hotel that morning, he knew she was still infuriated by his company... so he supposed her actions were kind of understandable.
By the time she’d filled the thirsty muscle car with fresh gasoline and pulled into a vacant row of spaces in the parking lot outside Seven Eleven, Copia was nowhere to be seen. She flicked off the engine and rolled her eyes in annoyance, deciding she would be patient and allow him to browse the department store a little longer. She adjusted her black blazer slightly and freed herself to move a little better by unbuttoning it. She glanced into the rear-view mirror and winced at the sight of her blood-shot eyes... the stress from the flight must have been lingering and she exhaled deeply, stooping down to flip over a tape that had been ejected from the music player. Then she shoved it back in and tried to relax when she returned to her seat, sighing deeply as she settled her indifferent eyes on the entrance to the department store. She reached forwards and lightly tapped her finger on the edge of the steering wheel when the music finally kicked in and after thirty seconds... she growled and impatience took over.
She slid a hand into the internal pockets of her blazer and fished out her smart phone, immediately unlocking it once she could see the screen. Her thumb tapped its bright surface quickly and soon, she brashly raised the phone to her right ear, impatiently clenching her left hand around the edge of the steering wheel. The dial tone continued to ring for a while, but it eventually cut off and she was greeted with a muffled “Ah... hello?” that made her seethe with annoyance.
“What the fuck are you doing?” she sternly questioned, her eyes wide with passionate irritation.
“I am in Seven - "
“Yes, I know where you are, Copia... would it arse you to hurry the fuck up?” she snapped, her intense black irises drilling into the automatic slide doors of the store entrance. “At this rate you’ll be shopping ‘til afternoon and I really don’t want to arrive late to our next hotel, especially if I haven’t managed to grab some food on the way. I’d be fucking livid.”
“Shiiit... ok, ok! I will be out as fast as I can... you want anything while I’m here? Any snacks, drinks - "
“An air-freshener.” she curtly cut in, her expression and tone completely empty of emotion.
“A... what?!”
“I’d like an air-freshener, one of the hang up ones.” she said in a strangely calm tone, like she’d never been disgruntled at all.
“Okaaaaay, any particular... flavour?”
“Scent, you fuck-wit. And no, I tend to go for shape. If there’s a skull or skeleton one... that’d be perfect.” she explained, ensuring she kept her tone hushed and composed.
“A... bony hang up air-freshener... got it. Anything el - ?"
“Just pay and get the fuck out, please.” she complained, her frustration evident from how she exaggerated her words.
“Okie dokie...” he accepted with a defeated sigh. “... but once I am done here, could you... meet me at the exit?”
“No.”
She hung up the call with an exasperated sigh and then her deadpan mask cracked to make way for a series of amused giggles. She slid her phone back into its rightful pocket and shook her head in amusement, shielding her eyes with a palm as she continued to laugh to herself. She had no idea why their exchange had tickled her so much... but she was grateful, because her chuckling seemed to relieve some of her frustration.
After an uncomfortably long ten minutes of waiting – that she had spent drumming her fingers on the steering wheel – she finally caught sight of his glaring red suit passing through the automatic doors of the store and she bolted out of the car, so desperate to leave the place that she carelessly left the keys in the ignition, and left the driver’s side door open... she was planning on having a quick getaway. The sooner they were on the road again, the better.
The sight of her marching across the vast parking lot to meet him made Copia’s heart swell and he wore a silly smile when he came to a natural stop, his arms hugging around the large accumulation of items he’d bought in order to keep hold of them. The more she neared him, the more she could make out the pile of products in his arms and she huffed out... his purchases were childish and terrible, but then, she’d half-expected that from him. Boxes and bags of sugary snacks were stacked high from his tummy to his chin: Hot Pockets, Twinkies, Sno Balls, Sour Patch Kids and Jolly Ranchers were some of the many products she recognised and her teeth already felt on edge just from spotting their packaging.
“Fuckin’ hell, how old are you? Five?” she questioned emptily, rolling her dark eyes as she seized hold of the first couple of boxes from the very top of the pile.
“I got... kinda... lost in there for a while, the store was fucking huge. And then I got veeery hungry. So when I found the snack section I figured I’d clear half the aisle, heh heh.” he chirped, continuing to chuckle beneath his breath when she swiftly started to lead the way back to the abandoned Pontiac. She kept silent the entire walk there and she could tell from his little subdued noises of hesitation as he followed her with his arms hugging around his boxes and bags of junk food, that he was desperate to continue their conversation. Before he finally came up with something to say, they reached the white Pontiac – which was thankfully still exactly where she’d left it – and Aemelia grudgingly opened one of the doors to the backseats. Not wishing to delay their departure any further, she brashly tossed the few boxes out of her grasp until they feebly landed over the crimson cord upholstery. And then she swiftly backed away to allow him to do the same, purposely keeping her gaze low to avoid him when she rounded the car to dart towards the open driver’s side door.
With his arms fully occupied, Copia couldn’t pull the door to the rear seats open much more so he stooped down with a muffled grunt and elbowed it further open. He took a little more care when he dumped half of his pile over the backseats but he continued to clutch the other half to his chest, deciding that he needed a few snacks for the current journey. Elbowing the door closed, he awkwardly side-stepped towards the passenger door... and to his horrified surprise, his inside pockets began to quake as an eight-bit rendition of Money Money Money rattled his ribcage. He glared his eyes and slowly hopped from foot to foot as he decided what to do and of course, seeing as his hands were still filled with boxed goods, he didn’t really have an awful lot of options.
“Eh... Miss Vial... would you mind... getting that for me?” he asked hopefully, raising his voice to ensure that she would hear him from the other side of the car. He winced slightly when she huffed out again and he soon felt the scold of her dark, reluctant eyes once she swiftly rounded the front of the car this time, shaking her head... it was clear she was slightly amused at the song he’d chosen for his ringtone.
“Where is it?” she asked, gesturing her palms in bewilderment when she came to a stop directly in front of him.
“Ehhh... inside my jacket... a little to my left.” he eagerly responded, which prompted her to confidently slide a hand beneath his waistcoat and his wide eyes searched her blank, expressionless features. She dug around the inside pockets of his jacket for quite some time and he kept swallowing, his throat considerably dry now that she was close to him. Eventually, to his blushing cheeks’ relief, she managed to snatch hold of his cell phone and she yanked it from his pockets, swiping a thumb up the screen before placing it against his right ear in one smooth action. And now she had completed his wishes, she stormed back around the hood of the vehicle, heading towards the driver’s side. Her lack of assistance caused the phone to slip away from him slightly and he let out a little yelp, quickly tilting his head in order to trap the phone against his ear before it had time to slip away from him completely.
“Ah... hello?” he cautiously greeted, curious but incredibly suspicious of the person that had chosen to call him when he was away from the Ministry. Considering most of his contacts were aware that he was on an important business trip, he figured the call must have been important. As he listened to the response from the caller, squinting his eyes in concentration, Aemelia slung herself into the driver’s seat and still yearning to get back on the road, she reached over the gearstick to push open the passenger door... she hoped her thoughtful action silently prompted him to get in the damn car. She leaned back into her own seat and tilted her head inquisitively when she heard him let out a deep, disappointed sigh.
“What is it, Father Ramio?” he questioned in a disinterested tone. “You know that I am on a veeery important business trip, I told you not call unless it was an emergency... so it better b – what?! Well what the shit am I supposed to do? I’m in Vegas! You are the one who is... there... at the Ministry, so you will have to sort that shit. What can I do from here?!”
Aemelia pursed her lips together to stop herself from snorting and snapped her head away from his view once he hunched down to idly shuffle himself onto the passenger seat beside her, still clutching his collection of sugary snacks to his chest.
“Look, calm down, ok? He will come down from the high real soon. Just... give him some matches to swallow, he will calm down – eh! Eh! Do not talk to your Papa like that again or I will fucking fire you! I left you in charge of the Siblings, so you deal with problems. Pour ice water over them... I don’t fucking know. You solve that shit. I’m busy. Do not call me agai - "
Copia sighed and squeezed his eyes shut, wincing as the back of his head hit the headrest of his seat. He gently eased his gloves away from the items resting against his chest and the boxes tumbled to the floor of the vehicle, his feet buried by a mountain of junk food treats. With his hands now free, he centred his head and drew the phone away from his ear, sighing with relief now that he didn’t have Father Ramio nattering in his ear hole. He held the phone out in front of him and turned his head towards Miss Vial, who also slowly turned her head to face him with a frown... though mirth plainly swam in her black irises. He loudly sighed and rolled his eyes, gesturing up his free glove by motioning it like a chattering mouth and he shook his head when Father Ramio’s shrill, panicked voice became louder and louder as it squawked out of the phone’s speaker. Eventually Copia decided that he couldn’t allow the young priest to ramble on and he dragged a gloved hand down his face in frustration, reluctantly raising the phone to his right ear again... but to his confusion, Aemelia growled and launched towards him, swiping the phone away from him. With his mouth parted in surprise, he glared at her as she cradled his cell phone in her palms, bringing it up to her face so that she could angle the receiver to her chin.
“Papa’s got his hands full at the moment. Call back later.” she stated emptily, firmly tapping the hang up symbol before Father Ramio had chance to reply. Copia gawped at her like she’d offended him and snatched his phone from her hands, hugging the device to his chest protectively.
“W-Why... why did you do that?”
“Because I couldn’t be arsed listening to him mumble nonsense... and I couldn’t be arsed listening to you berate him either. You might be Papa now, but you don’t have to be a dickhead.”
“Oh.” he exclaimed lightly, knitting his eyebrows together when he peered at her worriedly. “You think I was too harsh on him?”
“No, Father Ramio annoys me too, so your tone was understandable.” she reassured calmly, lowering her gaze to the pedals in front of her shoes. “You just... maybe went a little far saying you would fire him. I don’t think he would take that too well. He could build a fortress from the amount of bricks he’s just shat out.”
“Good.” he murmured darkly, resisting the urge to smirk by ignoring the twitching corners of his mouth. “He will be... very suspicious of what you said...”
“What do you mean?” she questioned defensively, her eyes instantly flicking back to settle on his glinting mismatched gaze.
“Well... he might assume... my hands were full of you, you know?”
She wore a grimace and let out a scoff of disgust, shaking her head in disbelief.
“Somehow I doubt that.” she grumbled, shuffling about in her seat before she lowered her gaze from him to focus on fixing her seat-belt in place. “Now that’s over... are you ready to go? Or do you have any other disgusting images you’d like to try and get me to imagine?”
Alarm flashed over his face.
“Ehhh... no no! One moment! One moment!”
He clumsily scrambled out of the car and nimbly wandered around the vehicle until he came to the rear bumper. She watched his shifty behaviour in the rear-view mirror, shaking her head when he drew something flat from the inside of his waistcoat pockets. Then he bent down and there was a little pause, before he slapped something onto the right side of the bumper, his purposeful action causing the entire car to wobble. And then he hastily returned to the passenger door, enthusiastically clambering inside.
“Ok, ok... we’re good!” he exclaimed with an obvious shortness of breath, brashly slamming his door shut.
“What were you doing?”
“Increasing the car’s value, heh heh.”
She narrowed her eyes at him but didn’t say a word, and now that their doors were firmly shut, she decided not to dwell on his strange actions and immediately started the engine. Copia clicked his seat-belt in place and after a few hearty revs, Aemelia rolled the car out of the parking bay and she had the faintest ghost of a smile on her lips. A smile that Copia had practically sensed and he flicked his eyes to her wisely, his expression subtly smug. He didn’t say a word at first and simply slid a hand into his jacket pockets again, smoothly revealing a sugar-skull air-freshener. Without taking his gaze away from her, he leaned forwards and smoothly hooked it around the rear-view mirror, his smug smirk broadening.
“So... you are warming to this baby now, ah?” he asked when he carefully sat back in his seat, his crow’s-feet crinkling like he knew exactly what was on her mind at that particular moment.
“What?”
“The car. It is... growing on you?” he added, trailing his eyes over her emotionless features.
“No, it still has to be a no from me. Last time I checked, it was still cum-white.” she bluntly replied, causing him to let out a couple of impish chuckles.
“Well, suuuure, Miss Vial, but I still think it suits our trip quite well.” he insisted, his voice wavering with amusement as he studied the movements of her hands on the edges of the steering wheel. “And it also... embodies me, no? Pristine white suit, very... extravagant - ahem - sexy, has a deep grrrrrowl and quite the thrust, ah?"
"I wouldn't fucking know." she muttered through gritted teeth, smoothly moving the steering wheel to the left.
“Mm... I could always... educate you with a little demonstration...” he offered, his voice rich and low as he trailed his eyes further and further down her body.
“No thanks, I’d rather bash my head against a wall.” she quipped, and a breath of amusement escaped him, a cocky smile crawling onto his mouth when he slowly turned his head to acknowledge the road ahead of them. They were almost out of the industrial park and already disinterested in their surroundings, he turned his head to face her again, admiring the loose strands of maroon hair that clung to the sides of her face.
“Okie dokie...” he murmured, licking his lips to stop them from drying. "... eh... you know, I was thinking, once we get to this festival, or at least... once it finishes... we have a bit of spare time on the drive back. So I was thinking we could... always visit a couple... casinos... maybe? If we have time before the flight home, of course.”
“Ha, no chance.”
The roadside started to become sparse with buildings and the industrial park was lost to the reflection in the rear-view mirror. Desperate to busy himself, Copia hunched forwards and reached down to scoop up a couple of Twinkie boxes from the floor. A troubled frown etched over his brow as he started to tear one of them open, allowing the others to rest over his lap. He was a little disappointed that she’d outright refused his idea but that didn’t deter him from continuing their conversation.
“You do not think it is a good idea?” he eventually asked in a small voice.
“No, I think it’s great idea. Casinos can be fun. If you’re allowed to go in them.”
He abruptly halted his package opening and clutched the box to his chest like he was about to have a heart attack, snapping his head around to glare his mismatched eyes at her.
“You’re... banned?!”
“Pretty much.” she replied casually, calmly focused on observing the behaviour of vehicles on the road ahead of them. “I rolled with a crew back in the early two-thousands. We used to go round to the nearest casinos and we’d wind up winning thousands. So... yeah, you’ll see my name on the international blacklist.”
“Shit... it was... illegal?” he whispered in amazement, his eyes widening with curiosity.
“No, we were just really good at playing cards. Simple as that.” she explained with a heavy sigh. “Apparently the casinos didn’t like us clearing out their accounts on a monthly basis, ‘cause after six months we were barred from most places. Word must’ve got round.”
"What the shit, Aemelia?! What did you do with the money?" he exclaimed excitedly, shoving his hand into the insides of his ripped cardboard box, the contents rustling loudly.
"I gave it away, obviously. I couldn’t spend that ridiculous amount of money.” she admitted with an honest wince, her shoulders tensing.
"Ehhhh... what?! You could've had a mansion! A whole collection of classic cars! Or even better... a whole house for your records to live in. Ah? How fucking cool would that be?" he responded passionately, amazement still plainly on his face as his glove snatched hold of a noisy plastic-wrapped Twinkie from the inside of the opened box.
"I didn’t want any of that. I was fine managing what I had at the time. I didn't want anything else." she said simply, grimacing slightly at the abrupt, ear-piercing crinkle of him tearing open his first Twinkie of the day.
“You’re fucking crazy, Cipolletta. You should have kept the - "
"Oh shut your face, Copia. I did what I did. So shut the fuck up.” she snapped in her usual cold, deadpan manner and he poised his fresh Twinkie in front of his mouth, his eyes as wide as saucers as he gazed at her worriedly. He was taken aback by her abrupt change in mood and gulped, stiffly sitting in his seat, not daring to move a muscle. He assumed their topic of conversation had perhaps brought back an unpleasant memory for her, and decided to abide by her curt wishes to save her getting frustrated.
"Okie dokie... I... I will not say another word, ok?" he said in a small, timid voice. She exhaled deeply and her hands on the steering wheel tightened.
Copia was a man of his word... for a while. She was shocked that she’d managed to have ten minutes of peace and quiet with him sat munching beside her, but then... he’d taken his time eating his first Twinkie. But by the time he wanted a second, the events of ten minutes ago had swiftly left his head and he proceeded to impatiently shove a hand back into the box of Twinkies, their plastic covers rustling noisily as he fished for a couple this time.
The obnoxious sounds of his gloves chasing the slippery plastic-covered snacks around the contents of the box was causing Aemelia’s cheeks to glow redder and redder and soon, the vehicle started pick a bit more speed, the snarl of its engine shaking their bones. When he finally pulled out a couple of wrapped Twinkies, persisting to overly rustle them due to his excitement, her black irises had blotted out to fill the entire area of her eye sockets, and like he had sensed the presence of the inky black that filled the hollows of her eyes... Copia froze. He nervously squeezed his hands around his freshly picked Twinkies and slowly, timidly turned his head to face her.
And the disconcerting animosity he witnessed in her hollow eyes as she drilled them into the horizon was enough for him to hastily discard his box of snacks to the floor beneath his chelsea boots.
"Ah, shit! Sorry, sorry! I forgot, my bad!" he squeaked out, averting his horrified eyes to glare out of the windshield.
It was going to be a very long drive.
13 : Fate’s Unquestionable Presence
The approach of a growling white Pontiac in the rear-view mirror was rather disconcerting. Every passenger in the broken down pick-up truck filled a seat and shifted nervously due to the nearing roar of the muscle car’s engine. They’d been stuck in the brush by the dusty roadside for quite some time and had mostly spent it arguing amongst one another, but the rumbling presence of the first car they’d seen in half an hour had caused their quarrelling to dry up into silence. With the classic muscle car growing closer and closer, the passengers in the back of the pick-up – who adorned black hockey masks – swiftly slid down into their seats in order to obscure themselves from view, canvas holdalls heavily resting over their laps. The few sat in the front – who also adorned the same masks, though they were noticeably soiled with bloodied dirt – began to panic and whisper to one another, and before long, the one in the driver’s seat attempted to start the vehicle, but the engine only stuttered pathetically.
They persisted to twist the ignition, desperately trying to fire up the engine... but it was no use. The Pontiac was gaining on them, and the closer it neared, the more they could hear muffled guitar riffs and thunderous drum beats pulsing from its robust frame. The sound of its engine and blasting rock music grew in volume and every masked passenger gritted their teeth when it finally ripped over the tarmac beside them, the pick-up truck wobbling from side to side due to its ruthless speed. Its glaring white paint-job gleamed beneath the relentless light of day, and the passengers who had ducked down over the rear seats timidly shuffled themselves up to peer through the gap between the front seats. The ones that were sat ahead of them let out enormous breaths of relief now that the car had passed and their shoulders relaxed slightly. As their heart rates began to settle down, their heads reluctantly turned to one another, muffled chuckles coating the insides of their masks...
But their relieved celebration was curtly cut short and swiftly replaced with horror when a high-pitched screech rang out. Their heads snapped to the road ahead, where white clouds of tire-smoke swirled up from the smooth tarmac. The white Pontiac had locked into a handbrake-turn and violently revved as it was propelled onto the opposite side of the road in order to speed its way back towards them. The masked occupants of the pick-up truck froze and sunk down in their seats, hoping that it was just some unfortunate coincidence that the car was driving towards them again...
But it certainly wasn’t. It tore towards the white partition in the centre of the road and its back end kicked out, tires howling as it came to a coolly angled halt beside them, the exteriors of each vehicle barely touching.
Each passenger clenched their gloved hands into fists and their eyes flicked to the rear-view mirror in unison so that they could meet each other’s anxious stares. Their eyes were piercing, like they were already forming a plan of action... but before any of them could open their mouths to say anything, the rock music blasting out from the car beside them suddenly became a hell of a lot clearer. Their heads turned and they eyed the open door to the passenger’s side, the music continuing to play even when someone appeared to smoothly hop out from the interior...
Copia’s confident strides, tidy skull-paint and suave red tails may have earned furrowed brows, but his dashing presence still managed to unsettle the masked group and their nervousness only rocketed. He couldn’t hide the mirth in his gleaming mismatched eyes as he brushed Twinkie crumbs away from his front and rounded the back of the truck, shooting a wise glance towards its rusty rear bumper, where subtle trails of crimson had started to seep out from the closed seams of the tail-gate. Wearing the touch of a smirk, he lowered his eyes to the polished tips of his winkle-pickers as he swiftly headed towards the driver’s side, the passengers in the back ducking down even more to ensure that he wouldn’t see them. The engine struggled again, sputtering pitifully as the driver frantically tried to spark the engine... but of course, the effort was in vain.
Copia slowly stooped down towards the driver’s side window and rapped his leather-clad knuckles over the glass, his gaze sincere as he peered at them. The masked person on the opposite side slowly and reluctantly tilted their head towards him and he motioned for them to slide their window down with a graceful gesture of his glove. Despite the masked individual’s anxious demeanour, the pane of glass scrolled down and Copia casually draped his arm over the roof of the car to ensure that he could dip down to peer at them more directly.
“You guys need some help?” he simply asked, his canines subtly tugging at the insides of his cheeks to stop his smirk from showing. “We figured you... broke down?”
The masked driver’s gloves creaked as their grip on the steering wheel tightened. Copia’s eyes narrowed at the overwhelming icy silence that acted as his response and he backed away, a small smile gracing his mouth. He turned his head to acknowledge the white Pontiac, his mismatched irises gleaming over the truck’s roof once Miss Vial clambered out of the passenger’s side – seeing as she’d parked far too close to open her door – in a reluctant manner. When she finally stood and firmly closed the car’s door, which yet again muffled the blaring music, her indifferent gaze acknowledged him and he sent her a wink, nodding as he gestured towards the open window below.
She let out a huff and shook her head, hastily rounding the front of the muscle car until she came to the bonnet of the pick-up truck. Copia awkwardly shifted away from the passenger’s side and sternly eyed the truck’s occupants when he strode towards Aemelia, who had already propped the hood to check over the internals. Eventually he arrived beside her, the side of his sleeve audibly brushing against hers. Her plaits swung either side of her focused face, a frown etching over her brow as her black eyes inspected the internals. Other than being greeted by the singed smell of an overheated car battery, something unusual caught her eye and she tilted her head in confusion, bending forwards a little more to view it closely. Sensing her subtle movements, Copia immediately abandoned shooting the masked passengers a disconcerting stare to smoothly trail his eyes down her, and his gaze noticeably lingered on the backs of her hips.
Unaware that he was blatantly checking her out, Miss Vial continued to peer beneath the bonnet, and soon, her black eyes widened... the shade of the hood was obscuring the detail, but she was certain that a thin spray of crimson liquid coated the edges of the internals and she abruptly stood up straight, sharply glancing at Copia over her right shoulder. He nervously flicked his eyes to her face, fearing she would realise where he’d been staring... but thankfully, she still appeared to be oblivious to his actions.
“Does that look like blood to you?” she murmured in subdued concern, motioning towards the spatter of dark red liquid with her dark eyes. He cleared his throat and sidled himself even closer to her side now that he had an excuse to do so, leaning forwards before he reluctantly lowered his gaze to the place she’d pointed out.
“Ehh... could be. Or it could be... rust, you know? Hard to tell.” he replied in a hushed tone, a smirk threatening to sprawl across his face... luckily, he managed to resist showing it.
"Yeah... you’re probably right. But if it is blood... they might’ve hit an animal at some point. Don't know how they didn't notice..." Aemelia mumbled, sighing out in suspicion. “Right, I’ll grab the jumper cables and see if I can get this battery going... so long as it doesn’t burst into fuckin’ flames.”
Copia simply stood beside the propped hood as he waited for Miss Vial to hook up the batteries of each vehicle, and he briefly parted his lips once he regarded the eerily silent masked individuals, who were shooting him empty stares... he stared back just as intensely but decided to keep his mouth shut, considering that the group didn’t appear to be the talkative type. Despite the lack of communication, once Aemelia slid back into the Pontiac in order to rev life back into the truck, the masked driver obliged her help by twisting the ignition and soon, after a couple minutes of trying, the truck’s engine stuttered into life.
Copia wore a small proud smile and abruptly snagged the cables from the internals, snatching them to his chest... and he clumsily shifted back when the hood loudly slammed shut. His eyes were wide when the truck’s engine suddenly revved at him and he nimbly hopped across the front of it to stand before the Pontiac instead, violently clutching the cables to his chest when the truck curtly jolted forwards. He pressed himself against the muscle car’s front bumper, glaring at the other vehicle’s sudden speed as it eagerly cut across in front of him, a thick cloud of smoke spewing out of its exhaust. Its engine snarled harshly as it gained acceleration and it sped off over the tarmac ahead of them, blood dripping from it’s rear bumper.
Still wearing a look of alarm, Copia abruptly turned his head at sudden movement in his peripheral vision. Aemelia had cracked open the driver’s side door and was poking her head out of it, black eyes scolding the truck that was now an ever-shrinking image in the distance.
"What a bunch of ungrateful wankers..." she muttered darkly, shaking her head in disapproval.
"Mm, indeed, Miss Vial.” Copia replied distantly, the hint of mirth in his eyes now that he was studying her hostile expression. “They should reaaally calm themselves and be a little more polite... or any old person will figure out there’s a corpse in the back..."
An hour or so after they’d assisted the vehicle full of criminals - which Aemelia wasn’t particularly happy about – the conversation between Copia and Vial burned out. She was fairly grateful for the lack of chatter but it was instead replaced with his munching again. He’d moved on from the box of Twinkies and was now working his way through a deluxe bag of Sour Patch Kids. From his actions alone, it was clear that he didn’t appear to be concerned about the events of the day so far, unlike Miss Vial, who still had the unsettling masked strangers on her mind as her hands firmly held the steering wheel and her dark eyes pierced the horizon.
Plastic continued to rustle beside her as his hands scooped up more candy and she huffed in irritation, leaning forwards so that she could reach across and turn up the volume of the stereo. When the music covered most of Copia’s rustling noises, she relaxed into her seat, letting out a relieved sigh when she clutched onto the steering wheel again.
Losing herself in the pining guitar riffs and deserted tarmac ahead, she managed to tolerate the anti-pope’s actions... until he let out a sharp gasp. Her brow furrowed slightly but very quickly deepened into a scowl when he drew his arm across the wind-shield in front of her, gloved hand pointing at a small, indistinct figure on the left side of the road ahead of them.
“Look, Miss Vial! A hitch-hiker! I thought that shit only happened in movies!” he exclaimed, his voice peaking from excitement. “We have to give them a ride!”
He relaxed back into his seat and continued to scoop up another helping of candy, picking a few out of his palm with his opposite hand to chuck them into his mouth. Her form tensed and she kept silent like she’d never heard what he’d said, reluctantly trailing her eyes to the bit of road-side he’d pointed out. The indifferent expression on her features cracked slightly, and quickly turned to silent amusement. Now that they were nearing the figure, it was clear that it appeared to be some sort of religious pastor due to the figure’s tightly tucked black shirt and clerical collar. The man had one arm extended out in the direction that they happened to be headed and the other clutched an immaculate bible to his chest.
Aemelia briefly broke into a conniving smirk and she immediately started to slow the vehicle, ensuring that she dropped her amusement when she felt Copia’s eyes on her. He slowly chewed his candy and gazed at her in interest.
“I s’pose it wouldn’t hurt to give them a ride...” she murmured, lowering gears now that they’d almost reached the patient pastor. His mismatched eyes followed the direction of her mirth-filled gaze and he abruptly stopped chewing as soon as he saw the hitch-hiker, and surprise swept over his features.
However, before he could say anything, the Pontiac rolled to a gentle halt beside the lone priest and the youthful man was so thankful and shocked that someone had stopped to help him that he raced towards the nearest door – which happened to lead to the seat behind Miss Vial – and flung it open, hurtling himself inside. Aemelia eyed the priest in her rear-view mirror and subtly leaned forwards to lower the volume of the music, ensuring that she kept her other hand firmly on the steering wheel. Once she completed her action, she continued to scour his features with suspicion, and kept her right hand poised over a trusty stake that was slotted into its rightful place beneath her blazer.
She noticed that Copia had dropped his snacks to coolly slouch into his seat now that the rugged chaplain was strapping a seat-belt across his front, and she refrained from snorting out in amusement. The anti-pope cleared his throat and stretched his left arm back towards the stranger, blindly offering a handshake.
“Hello there...” Copia greeted, keeping his head low when he bit his bottom lip to stop himself from smirking. Naturally, the polite priest obliged him and firmly shook his gloved hand, oblivious to the thick skull-paint that covered him.
“Nice to meet you! Thanks ever so much for stoppin’. I’ve been waitin’ out there for a while. Was startin’ to think that I was gonna be out there forever, hah!” the priest chirped, dropping hold of Copia’s gloved hand to fall back into his seat. His accent was soft but undeniably Irish and Aemelia continued to glare at him in the rear-view mirror, attempting to see if the man had any ulterior motives, but he only seemed to be relieved.
"Ahh , don’t worry about that, it’s no bother at all.” Copia responded calmly, resting both of his gloved hands over his lap as he peered his amused eyes out of the wind-shield. “I know how hot those fucking clerical collars can get, heh heh. Where are you wanting to go, Father?”
"I’m boardin’ at the chapel, it’s a couple miles drive from here.” the chaplain explained, sat stiffly now that he was belted into one of the rear seats. “You’d be better droppin’ me at the diner, though, it’s just a couple miles up the road. I can walk from there. It's a little while along, so I’m sorry if I'm a hindrance to your journey. I’ve been told I can be a bit of chatterbox, hah."
"Ahhh, do not worry. We can deal with chatter, heh heh." Copia murmured, a faint smirk appearing on his mouth when the vehicle started to roll into motion again. The engine roared when Aemelia changed up the gears and her eyes settled on the road, but she ensured that they occasionally flicked towards the rear-view mirror to check on the actions of the stranger in the back... she was stunned that he appeared to be oblivious to who had actually stopped to help him, but she kept quiet and simply focused on her driving.
"This is a beauty of a car, isn’t it?" the pastor piped up again, nodding his head in approval as his blue eyes trailed over the crimson cord upholstery he was sat upon.
"Heh heh, oh yes... but it’s also a real monster. It will make sure you get to your church in good time, ah?" Copia replied, mismatched eyes gleaming when he peered at the man through the nearest side-mirror.
“I really appreciate it, Mister.” the priest swiftly replied with a polite smile. “Like I said, I thought no one was gonna stop. Figured it was because of this collar, like... I understand, I’m a man of God but I’m not gonna preach nothin’! I just wanna get back home, that’s all.”
“Well, sure, we all have to get home somehow, ah?” Copia responded, mirth subtly present in his voice. “It is not so nice waiting at the road-side beneath the heat of the sun, only to be judged and ignored. It’s really fucking inconsiderate... but lucky for you, we happened to pass... and we don’t judge, heh heh.”
The priest winced, a little uncomfortable with the casual profanity that left Copia’s mouth but he nodded gratefully and let out a nervous chuckle.
“Oh, yeah, yeah... definitely! The luck of God, you might say. I mean I was originally back there waitin’ for my partner. We’re missionaries from Ireland, if you couldn’t tell, hah! Was meant to pick me up in his truck, but I guess he must’ve got caught up chattin’ with someone, or... he probably broke down to be honest with yous. The truck was prone to breakdowns out in this heat.”
Aemelia instantly narrowed her eyes due to the priest’s words and swiftly flicked them towards Copia, who was faintly smirking and nonchalantly trailing his gaze towards her to meet her stare. They shared a look of wisdom, but kept completely silent, though it was clear from the expression he adorned that he was daring her to say something... but she didn’t, deciding to ignore that the unnerving events they'd experienced earlier were likely connected to the priest’s situation. They held each other’s stare for a little while and the priest’s voice continued, regardless of the lack of responses. When the man’s chattering only persisted, Copia sighed in slight annoyance and leaned a little closer to her whilst he had her attention, deciding to ease the shock on her features.
“Yeesh, he really wasn’t kidding when he said he was a chatterbox...” he murmured through clenched teeth and she turned her head away from him to focus on the road ahead, biting her bottom lip to stop herself from laughing. He allowed a little snort to escape him and sat back in his seat, glinting irises still firmly fixed to the slight amusement on her face. While the Irish missionary continued to chatter away like he had their full attention, Aemelia concentrated on her driving, oblivious to the fact that Copia had slowly leaned out of his seat again. He casually draped his left arm across the gear lever, and to her alarm, gently rested his gloved hand over her right thigh. She glared her black eyes but decided to ignore him... she knew that staring at him would have only encouraged his actions. She had no idea why he was doing such a thing, but she was sure it must have had something to do with the presence of the godly preacher that was strapped into the backseats.
Despite her stubborn insistence when it came to focusing on her own actions, his leather-clad fingertips started to lightly stroke the material that clutched to her thigh and she lost concentration, the accelerator suddenly revving loudly as the vehicle started to gain a noticeable amount of speed. She let out a shaky breath and managed to revert her action to ensure the vehicle was travelling at its previous steady speed, but she still couldn’t ignore the gentle grazes of his fingers, nor could she miss the slight movement in her peripheral vision when he subtly shuffled his legs. He slowly and casually parted them to slouch down in his seat, his smirk obvious to her when short breaths started to escape him.
Neither the priest’s chatter or the anti-pope’s gentle stroking eased until they reached their destination. And to Miss Vial’s relief, the diner that the priest had mentioned seemed to pop up out of the desert brush like it was an unnatural mirage, and it stuck out like a metal-walled thumb, its colourful retro interior plain as day through the wide window panes. She’d never felt more grateful to see such a place – due to the irritating company, the unwanted attention and her growling tummy – and as soon as she caught sight of the sign that marked the parking lot, she slammed her foot down on the accelerator, and as soon as she was able, violently veered into the diner’s junction. Copia’s fingers cautiously kneaded into her when the muscle car screeched to a halt, stopping across the width of three parking bays and finally, she snapped her head away from the wind-shield to scold him with her eyes.
He swallowed but his expression remained calm when he slowly withdrew his hand from her, mismatched eyes searching her features in admiration. The priest abruptly clicked off his seat-belt and finally ceased chattering, reaching forwards to firmly slap his hands onto the backs of the front seats.
“Thanks so much for this!” he exclaimed, beaming a grateful smile despite the fact the two people in the front were still staring at each other rather than him. “I owe yous one, I’ll make sure to put a good word in with the Lord for you.”
Aemelia snorted loudly and her sincerity cracked immediately. She forgot all about Copia’s advance when he shared her amusement by wearing a crumpled smile and to their relief, the pastor hastily exited their car before he noticed their amusement, hugging his bible to his chest once he politely closed the door after himself. Their eyes trailed to the rear-view mirror in unison and they lightly chuckled under their breath, spotting him wandering away from the back of the car. Clutching his bible to his chest, he waved towards them thankfully and shot them one last glance... and that was when his face abruptly fell. His strides slowed and his blue eyes glared, for there, on the very right of the Pontiac’s rear bumper was a neat rectangular sticker that read “Horny 4 Satan”...
Neither Copia or Miss Vial could keep their chuckles subdued for much longer, for the mortified expression of realisation on the young pastor’s face was utterly priceless.
14 : Unexpectedly Unpleasant Yet Undeniably Uncanny
After witnessing the naïve priest break into a panicked sprint through the rear-view mirror, they decided that they may as well have a stop at the diner they’d arrived at. Miss Vial was starving considering it was a couple of hours after noon, so the place was a welcome sight. And although Copia had stuffed himself with a generous amount of sugary snacks, he couldn’t ignore the opportunity of keeping her company. When the young pastor’s figure was nothing but an indistinguishable smudge in the rear-view mirror, Aemelia shut off the engine and they swiftly shuffled out of the Pontiac, slamming their doors shut in unison. Once she was content that she had locked the vehicle, she slid the keys into her blazer’s pockets and they traipsed towards the metal-clad building.
The parking lot was unusually vacant aside from their vehicle, but they assumed it was because the diner was so remote and didn’t contemplate it further. As soon as Aemelia caught sight of a sign that read open through the glass of the diner’s double doors, she raced towards the entrance, already outstretching her hand to push her way in. Copia jogged to keep up with her, oblivious to the trail of Twinkie crumbs that he was leaving behind him. His eyes glinted with wonder when he managed to slip into the door she’d opened and he jumped out of his skin when it violently clattered shut after him... thankfully, he’d been quick enough to avoid the glass panels of the door hitting him and he swallowed, overlooking Miss Vial’s careless actions. He supposed that she’d had to tolerate quite a lot in recent days, so her thoughtless actions were somewhat understandable.
He strode towards her, admiring the spotless chessboard floor, the various walls that were cluttered with retro signs and the vibrant cherry red upholstery of the booths that surrounded them, and once he arrived at her side, he confidently linked his right arm with her left. She furrowed her brow in slight annoyance – she was halfway through reading a couple of chalk boards behind the counter – and he gently tugged her away from the spot where she was stood, his mismatched eyes settling on one particular booth behind them. Her gaze was still firmly on the chalk boards as he lightly guided her away, and eventually, they arrived by the side of his selected booth. He cleared his throat when he reluctantly let go of her arm to settle his gloved palms over the empty surface of the dining table like he suddenly needed to steady himself. Aemelia felt his mismatched eyes searching her face and she huffed, grudgingly sliding onto one of the booth’s seats. She tore her eyes away from the counter and lowered her head to stare at the surface of the dining table, desperate to avoid Copia’s gaze.
“What you in the mood for?” he asked, tilting his head to try to see her better... but to his disappointment, her gaze was obscured by her actions.
“A cheeseburger.” she muttered, not daring to lift her head. “A big one.”
“Cool, cool... this is on me, so don’t even think about touching your purse, ok?” Copia declared with a smirk, gracefully backing away from the table with a knowing gesture of his glove. “You just get comfy here, I will be riiiight back. Don’t get too bored without me, heh heh!”
Aemelia huffed and rolled her eyes, “Bored? Hardly. I’ve been waiting hours for this fucking moment... cheeky bastard.”
He twirled around regardless of her grumbled reply, adorning a small amused smile as he elegantly strolled towards the counter. He pressed a flat gloved hand over the red material of his waistcoat in a polite manner and slowly glanced across each of his shoulders. The barstools that lined the counter either side of him were completely deserted and he narrowed his eyes in contemplation. When he slowly centred his head again to peer towards the space behind the counter, a waitress was stood behind it, and when she stared at him expectantly, his eyes narrowed even more. She looked like she belonged in the fifties considering the cut of her uniform, which was formed out of pristine candy striped material. Even her black hair was curled into a style of the same era, and the makeup she wore on her face complemented her outfit in a similar vein.
“Thanks for stoppin’ by.” she greeted emptily, her green eyes lifeless when she cupped a modest notepad and pen to the pinafore covering her chest. “We don’t get many people in these parts, and if we do, they tend to avoid the place... so we appreciate your custom.”
“Oh... eh... it is... no trouble, heh heh.” Copia responded softly, furrowing his brow in bewilderment when he stooped into a polite bow. He was confused by her words - he understood that the place was vacant and little run down... but what diner wasn’t? The waitress flashed him an empty smile and he nervously averted his eyes to the metallic surface of the counter, a little uneasy with how she was gazing at him.
“What can I get you, hon?” she asked, the audible sound of squelching giving away that she was likely chewing a piece of gum. He cleared his throat and reluctantly trailed his eyes back up to settle them on her icy stare.
“Eh... a diet coke... ahm... a large chocolate milkshake and ahhm... ah yes! A cheeseburger, the biggest one you got, heh heh.” he replied cheerfully, sending her a grateful wink when she started to scribble his order onto her small notepad with a pencil, her movements stiff and rehearsed. He backed away from the counter slightly at the sound of her tearing the sheet of paper away from the pad and she folded it, hooking it over one of the pockets on her pristine pinafore.
“You go make yourself comfy, hon. It’ll be with you real soon.” she said emotionlessly as she tucked her pencil behind her ear, already swivelling away from him to head towards a door – which presumably led to the kitchen – behind her.
“Ehh... you do not want me to pay?” he asked in confusion, raising his voice a little now that she had her back to him. The woman paused and she briefly glanced over one of her shoulders, her green eyes intensely studying his rat-paint when the hint of a smirk touched her cherry red lips.
“I owe you, so it’s on the house.” she simply said, swiftly turning her head before she started to approach the push door to the kitchen. Copia glared at her in confusion and refrained from letting out a high-pitched squeak of frustration. Deciding that it was probably best not to dwell on the strange actions of the waitress, he pivoted on the spot and bolted back towards the booth, which was still occupied by Miss Vial, who was still sat over one side of the red vinyl seats. When he finally reached his destination, he promptly slid himself onto the seat opposite her, leaning his elbows onto the edge of the dining table. Aemelia slowly acknowledged him by lifting her head slightly, she had her hands clutching to the sides of her neck and her eyes were closed like she was trying to catch some sleep.
“Well... that was really fucking weird.” Copia mumbled, clearing his throat when his gaze settled on Miss Vial. He studied the neat black eyeliner that lined her eyes now that they were shut and his eyebrows knitted in concern. She seemed content with ignoring him and focused on keeping her eyes shut, her slender hands grasping around the skin of her neck more firmly.
“You... doing ok there, Aemelia?” he softly questioned, cautiously stretching out his right arm so that he could gently clutch a glove around one of her tensed forearms. “You are... tired? Hungry? Annoyed? I know I have been frustrating you, I am very sorry for that... I never intended to - “
“What’s weird?” she suddenly questioned, her voice sharp yet inquisitive. “You said something was weird.”
His frown deepened and he dipped his head down to peer at her worriedly, mismatched eyes wide when his glove tightened around her forearm.
“I think the waitress thought I was... someone else.” he murmured, his eyes widening when they flicked towards a subtle movement coming from the booth behind Aemelia. He held his expression of shock, and when she let out a breathy chuckle, he immediately returned his gaze to her again, regardless of whatever he thought he’d seen behind her.
“Everyone always seems to think you’re someone else.” she said, smiling down at the surface of the table. “Yet somehow, mistaking you for some other fucker plays in your favour every time.”
“Yes... eh... funny how some things work like that, ah?” he hastily responded, wide eyes trailing back to gaze over her shoulder... whatever he was witnessing in the booth behind her had caused his skin to pale. “Ahhhh... ehhhh... scusi, Miss Vial, I will... be right back, ok?”
“What? Where are you going?”
“The little Papa’s room...” he replied in a strained whisper, grunting out with effort as he abruptly shot upwards to stand from his seat. As he swiftly slipped out from the booth, Aemelia opened her eyes to roll them and raised her head so that she could observe him dashing in the direction of the rest room, tails of his red coat fluttering behind him.
“Fuckin’ hell, where’s the fire, Mr Anti-Christ?” she muttered, shaking her head in amusement. The doors to the restrooms flapped back and forth once he dived into them and she furrowed her brow, huffing out an apathetic sigh. She was relieved to have a break from his company, especially after the strange events that had occurred that day. Some things still hadn’t sunk in, but once she thought back to the hitch-hiking priest’s expression of distressed realisation, she couldn’t resist snorting again.
Her hands dropped from her neck and she exhaled deeply when she finally draped her arms by her sides. She raised a hand to push some of her wispy strands of burgundy hair to the sides of her face and readjusted the location of her plaits slightly, her black eyes trailing over the deserted diner... then again, now that she paid a little more attention to her surroundings, it wasn’t quite as deserted as she had assumed it to be. She was certain that she could hear the muffled sound of conversation coming from the booth behind her and curiosity fuelled her actions. Her frown deepened and she rested her elbows on the surface of the dining table, cautiously turning her head to subtly shoot a glance over her left shoulder. She narrowed her black eyes in interest, trying her best to study the couple that was sat behind her... strangely, the two people appeared to be in some kind of heated discussion, but from their hushed tones, it was clear they were determined to keep their disagreements quiet to ensure that it didn’t attract any unwanted attention...
But it was too late. Their furious whispering had caught the attention of Miss Vial, who was now glaring in horrified realisation. It was clear, from their fashion alone, that they belonged to another era. Due to the messy style of the man’s thick black hair and his rather garish fuzzy jacket – which did a poor job of hiding a white clerical collar and a thick Grucifix chain that hung from his neck - Aemelia assumed that he was harkening back to the seventies, or perhaps was actually from such a time. Her black eyes continued to glare in astonishment when they trailed up to his face, which was remarkably familiar, as was the thick skull-paint that was plastered over his handsome features. Deciding that her presence would become noticeable to them the longer she stared, she sunk down in her seat but only just enough so that she could still peep over the vinyl backing of the booth. She reluctantly flicked her eyes from the man - who was now busily tucking into an oversized sloppy joe with eager bare hands – and tried to get a good look at the woman who was sat closest to her. Unfortunately, she could only see the back of the woman but from the flared sleeves of her turquoise dress and her blonde hair that was drawn back into a wavy lace braid, she hailed from the same time.
Aemelia’s ears pricked up and she was intent on eavesdropping on the chic couple’s conversation, but their voices were so hushed that it was hard to hear a single word. Their voices, however, were not so hard to distinguish, they were obvious as they simmered beneath their harsh whispers, and unfortunately, it was their recognisable tones and intonations that spurred on Aemelia’s realisation. Refraining from gasping due to the epiphany that the couple was some kind of bizarre incarnation of Sister Imperator and the late Papa Nihil, she abruptly swivelled away from them, squeezing her eyes shut when she winced in confusion. She abruptly leaned forwards and clutched her pallid hands around her neck again, angling her head down to ensure that she was keeping a low profile.
Thankfully, the uncanny Nihil and Imperator were still too engaged in their discussion to have noticed the presence of anyone else, and the more Aemelia tried to rifle through her brain to explain what she had seen behind her, the more the voices behind her raised. Her wincing persisted as their irked tones pierced her ears and the obnoxious coating to Nihil’s voice made her clench her teeth together. How she and Copia had failed to notice their presence earlier was beyond her, but then she couldn’t have been certain that they had been there when they’d arrived...
Whilst Aemelia continued to keep her head low and squeezed her eyes shut, the furious whispers from behind her eventually died down. She heard one of them huff in frustration and then sensed something cutting across the space beside the booth. Gritting her teeth together, she flashed her eyes open and tilted her head, her maroon plaits framing the sides of her face when her squinted gaze landed on the counter. The young, charismatic Nihil was present there and had his back to her. She scrutinized the material of his fuzzy jacket, her form tensing with discomfort when she observed him waving his empty glass at the waitress that was leaning across the counter. He must have shot her a smile and whispered something to her because as soon as the red-lipped woman took hold of his glass, she floundered about with a beaming smile.
Miss Vial rolled her eyes at his actions and quickly averted her stare. Then she dropped her hands from her nape to slide her right hand into the recesses of her waistcoat. Naturally, given the strange situation, she should have been making a scene but she had no energy to do so, and instead, cupped her hand around her smart phone. Once she pulled it out of her waistcoat, she pressed the side button and her black eyes scoured the bright screen. She figured it would be a shock to Copia if he happened to bump into his deceased predecessor on the way back from the rest room... so she searched through her list of contacts – which was surprisingly long – but she couldn’t remember what she’d saved his number as... it certainly wasn’t something as simple as Copia or Papa. Her frown deepened the further she scrolled and then she clicked her tongue at her stupidity, immediately closing her contacts to open the recent calls tab...
When her eyes finally spotted his name – she’d labelled him as Ratty Hornball - she smirked and let out an amused huff, but before she could tap his name to send him a quick message, the close sound of a throat clearing caused her to jump out of her skin. She slid her phone back into her waistcoat like she had been grasping hold of a weapon and quickly sat up straight, snapping her head in the direction of the gruff sound. Nihil was stood by the edge of the table, broadly smiling at her when she stiffened in her seat. She glared at his youthful features and twinkling set of mismatched eyes, already defiantly hardening her black irises.
“You come here often?” he softly asked, gently gesturing a bare hand towards her when he squinted his curious eyes. Her brows dropped into a frown and she glared at him more coldly when she shook her head in reply, not daring to speak a word to him.
“I didn’t think so.” he replied assuredly, his grin shrinking into a small smile as he blatantly flicked his eyes over her features. “I’m certain that I would have remembered a face like yours. You free in say... half an hour?”
“I’m... with someone.” she lied in grumble that seeped through her clenched teeth. She felt unbelievably uncomfortable with the situation, her skin was crawling but she kept calm and scoffed back the urge to retch. Papa Nihil’s smile widened again and he stooped down, mismatched eyes wide with wonder as he fearlessly returned her stare.
“And?” he whispered. “This someone doesn’t have to know...”
“You haven’t got a chance in hell of pulling anyone, mate. Not with those flares on, fuckin’ hell. I’d piss off if I were you, before you embarrass yourself any more.” she swiftly quipped, abruptly turning her head away from him so that she could drill her gaze into the surface of the table. Her jab at his fashion sense seemed to have the desired effect, for he threw his bare hands up and shook his head, deeply offended by her reply. He sighed in exasperation and his expression was stern as he turned to approach the counter again...
But just as he did, Copia had hastily returned from the rest room and skidded to a panicked halt in front of him, their horrified expressions mirrored in their wide mismatched eyes. Nihil angrily scrutinized Copia’s face-paint and his scowl etched deeper and deeper when he eyed the stark red material and tight style of his suit.
“Hmph! I see how it is!” youthful Nihil scolded, hands balling into fists by his sides as he shook his head in disgust. “Who do you think you are? I’m sick of you jumped up posers thinking you’re me! You wouldn’t have her if it weren’t for me, and you know that damn well.”
“Eh... what?” Copia murmured, his gloved hands creaking when he clutched them to his chest. His eyes shifted away from the strange presence of his late father and he quizzically rested them on Miss Vial, who had wrapped her arms around her head to hide her embarrassment.
“You know what... “ he said quietly, narrowing his eyes in contemplation when he trailed them away from her to settle on the infuriated Nihil that was still stood in front of him. “... you are actually very, veeery correct, Papa. I definitely wouldn’t be here were it not for... you. Heh.”
Copia persisted to chuckle when he leaned forwards and gently nudged the disgruntled anti-pope’s chest with his leather knuckles in a playful manner. His awkward action caused Nihil to sigh deeply and the man shook his head in disgust, throwing up an arm in dismissal before he swivelled on the spot to march back towards his seat. Copia simply stared as the man ranted and raved beneath his breath, but eventually, Copia decided to nervously tear his attention away before he had to acknowledge his mother’s existence too. Bashfully stroking back his slicked hair, he let out a heavy sigh and shuffled himself onto the red vinyl seat opposite Miss Vial. She reluctantly raised her head out of her arms and peered at him cautiously.
“Has he gone?” she whispered, her arms relaxing and falling away from her once he nodded frantically in reply. He still looked alarmed and briefly glared at Nihil over her shoulder until she sat up properly and she effortlessly distracted him, he quickly met her stare and she looked just as puzzled as he did.
“So... you got any theories? Because I... eh... I don’t have a fucking clue what’s going on here.” he confessed in a strained voice, hastily shutting his mouth and sitting back in his seat when an arm draped between them. He awkwardly cleared his throat and briefly glanced towards the owner of such an arm, and once he realised that it was simply the waitress setting down their order from a wide metal tray, he relaxed over his seat and his mismatched eyes settled on Aemelia again. Eventually, a wide plate that supported a generous cheeseburger, a large glass of chilled diet coke and a tall sundae glass that was brimming with frothy chocolate milkshake were placed over the surface of the dining table. The waitress wrinkled her nose when she smiled at the two of them, and they reluctantly murmured their thanks before she skipped away from them to presumably deliver Nihil his fresh refill. When Copia was sure that she was distracted by the booth behind Miss Vial, he latched his gloved hand around the glass of chocolate milkshake and dragged it towards him, his other hand angling the candy striped straw to his mouth.
“I think it’s haunted.” Aemelia suddenly piped up, her gaze settling on the fresh burger that was already locked between her palms. She cringed at the sound of him slurping his milkshake loudly and took a large bite out of her food, swiftly forgetting about his infuriating noises when she hummed out in appreciation.
“Ahhhm... I’m pretty sure they aren’t ghosts, Miss Vial. Papa Nihil felt pretty firm to me...” he muttered, straw falling away from his mouth as he settled back in his seat. “... a lot firmer than I remember anyway. Really weird seeing him so healthy looking... when we always saw him as a fucking frail sack of bones, you know?”
“Well... no shit.” she responded, pausing to swallow down some of her food. “But I didn’t mean haunted in a ghost sense. I meant that instead of this place holding onto an imprint of something’s existence, it maybe taps into shit we carry around with us. Like... memories or something. And it might sort of... merge with the reality we see, if that makes sense.”
“Hm... sure, that could be what is happening here, yes... it would definitely explain why it is so quiet in here, no?” he questioned excitedly, like he was intrigued by her theory. “It would be like opening your bone closet to whoever was in here. You never know what kind of little skeletons could poke out, heh heh. But then... if you are right, I don’t remember this memory of Nihil at all. And... wouldn’t we see a memory of yours too? Why can we only see mine? And... are we sure it’s mine? Because like I said I really don’t remem - ”
“It’s yours.” Aemelia interrupted confidently, dropping her burger – which was now missing hefty chunks – onto the plate below to dust her hands together. “It’s maybe just something you’ve suppressed for some reason. Happens to all of us.”
She trailed her gaze to one of the distant corners of the diner behind him and he was immediately attracted to the expression in her eyes. He studied her face as she continued to chew on a bit of her burger, her black irises swimming with curiosity. Her chewing slowed the more she gazed at whatever it was over his shoulder and she tilted her head slightly, knitting her eyebrows together.
“So... you think this place just happens to be haunted?” Copia asked, trying his best to keep the conversation going. She hummed in thoughtful agreement, her eyes glued to the presence of a small, chestnut haired boy – who couldn’t have been much older than seven – that was clumsily operating a pinball machine. Her eyes narrowed in thought as she studied the boy’s mannerisms, and there was something eerily familiar about him. Sadly he was too far away for her to get a good look at his appearance, but the way he nimbly moved his arms and growled in annoyance reminded her of the anti-pope that was sat opposite her. She kept completely silent and simply watched the boy play, her expression saddening when the whispered arguing of Nihil and Imperator sharply piped up from the booth behind her again. The boy was plainly Copia and though she didn’t have the full context of the situation, it was a little sad that his parents were completely oblivious to his existence.
“Eh... Aemelia? You sure you’re... doing ok there?” Copia asked in a distant and nervous tone, unusually mirroring her actions. He too was peering at something over her shoulder, but it wasn’t the squabbling Nihil and Imperator that had caught his attention. It was something else entirely. Aemelia slowly trailed her eyes away from the boy at the pinball machine and stared at him inquisitively, her subtle wince becoming a concerned scowl. His eyes were wide and his gloves creaked into fists as he continued to glare at something behind her.
“You’ve seen something, haven’t you?” she questioned wisely, grasping hold of the remnants of her burger to raise it to her mouth.
“Y-Yes... I... eh...” he trailed off, slowly leaning forwards to blindly take a sip from his straw. She took another bite of her burger, and perching it between her hands, she rolled her eyes at his behaviour and shuffled over her seat to turn... but Copia suddenly struck an arm out towards her, a gloved hand grappling onto her right shoulder to stop her from swivelling around. Naturally, she froze due to the contact and her scolding obsidian eyes locked onto his, which were filled with blatant concern. She attempted to shuffle in order to defy his actions but his grip on her tightened and he shook his head.
“No, no! Don’t.”
“Alright, keep your mustache on... I won’t look if you don’t want me to.” she sighed unwillingly, lowering her food back onto its plate when he reluctantly drew his hand away from her to slowly sit back in his seat. “But can you at least tell me what you’re seeing?”
“It’s a... little girl. I think.” he said in a hushed tone, his gaze flicking between Miss Vial and the scene that was occurring in one of the booths that was located at the opposite end of the place. “She is... covered in... blood, maybe? Or it could be... Bolognese, it is hard to tell for sure... we are far away from her, you know? Oh... no... no no no, nevermind. That is not a bowl of spaghetti on her table...”
Aemelia knitted her brows together when he abruptly paused and she studied his glaring eyes, patiently waiting for his wince of discomfort to pass.
“That is a whole dead deer in front of her... what the shit?! She’s... seriously not going to... eat that, right? It looks like it only just dropped dead... ah shit, you know what... now that I think about it... the blood suddenly makes a little more sense...”
He shifted his alarmed eyes back to Miss Vial to avoid witnessing the rest of the strange, disconcerting scene of the girl pulling meat from the animal’s carcass and she sighed heavily, wearing a disappointed expression when she sadly stared down at her half-eaten burger. He furrowed his brow at her change in body language and she dipped her head low, trying to mask her self-loathing.
"I... had to eat.” she said simply, her voice wise yet muffled now that she was peering down at her plate. "I must’ve been ten... maybe eleven.”
Copia’s distress turned to a wince of concern and he smoothly leaned forwards, gently squeezing a compassionate glove around one of her limp hands. She seemed content with his actions and let out another deep sigh but refrained from raising her head to meet his stare, too ashamed of the memory she was set on describing to him.
“My neighbours were terrified that I would puppet my guardian at the time.” she explained, the waver in her voice hinting that she had probably never acknowledged such a topic by herself, let alone discussed it with another person. “By using my witchcraft or black magic or whatever - bunch of ignorant fuckers - they tormented us for months with their beliefs. And being the thoughtful, arrogant know-it-alls they were, one day... they eventually decided they’d had enough of us.”
She paused and Copia’s grasp around her left hand tightened. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to remain numb to the tears that were threatening to spill from her eyes, and soon, she huffed out in defeat and reacted to him, his leather glove creaking when she squeezed his hand back. He patiently awaited the sound of her voice and wistfully searched her features, which were obscured by her suspended plaits and wispy strands of hair that hung by the sides of her face.
“They decided to sacrifice my guardian the same night they’d planned on getting rid of me. To banish whatever... evil they believed I’d tainted him with.” she continued calmly in a sullen, bitter tone, trying her best to focus on the tight grip of Copia’s hand to distract herself from the unpleasant memories that were flooding back to her. “I was practicing alchemy, I was no witch. They even tried to blame me for the vampires that would regularly stalk the place... it was just a load of bullshit that got stuck in their heads.”
“How could... you be the cause of that?” he asked in a soft, hushed voice, mismatched eyes intently focused on her. “Vampires are very independent creatures, no? They are not so easy to sway.”
When she sighed yet again, his mind was reeling from the information she had vented to him. Unfortunately, he got the feeling that there was something more to the unusual theories of these mysterious past neighbours of hers... after all, once Miss Vial had left the Ministry all those months ago, Copia had been left to mull over the fact she was most definitely a carrier of Bathory blood. And there was no doubt in his mind that such potent, unusual blood would attract an array of obnoxious blood-sucking creatures. Although the situation she was recounting made more sense to him than it did to her, he decided not to voice his assumptions. She already seemed deeply unsettled and he didn’t want to upset her further by off-loading his theories to her. He kept quiet and continued to hold her hand, patiently waiting for her to speak again.
“I’ve no idea how they came to that conclusion to be honest.” she eventually muttered, clutching onto his glove more firmly. “Anyway... long story short, they tied me to a stake to prove they were right. It was a win-win situation in their eyes. Me, a so-called witch would be burnt to ash, regardless. And they were hoping I would attract the vampires so they’d also be burnt by the flames but - “
"It backfired." he murmured wisely, a clear recollection of roaring flames surrounding a little burgundy haired girl – who was certainly the same girl that was caked in deer’s blood and the same pallid-faced woman that he was intently listening to at that very moment – vividly present in his mind. He’d never forgotten the snippets of information that the unveiling spell had shown him all those months back, and though the events had been harrowing and disconcerting, he was grateful to have witnessed them, because it enabled him to understand Aemelia Vial even more. He only hoped that she viewed things in the same way, especially when he recalled the fearful expression she’d worn after taking part in such a spell...
"Yep. There was no one left when the fire went out. And it was... at least a fortnight until the company decided to show up. So... I'd had to fend for myself during that time." she calmly responded, a couple of stray tears managing to trickle down her cheeks. She jumped slightly when he reached his other arm across to squeeze a gloved hand around her right wrist. She abruptly lifted her head to return his stare and the tears silently dripped from her jaw. Her shining black eyes searched his plain, honest eyes and for once, Copia looked utterly sincere.
“You were just a kid, Aemelia...” he reassured in a quiet whisper, shaking his head in saddened disbelief. They searched each other's eyes for a moment until she leaned to her left to peer around him, her watery eyes resting on the young boy that was still busily operating the pinball machine in the corner.
“So were you.” she breathed, causing Copia to narrow his eyes before he reluctantly followed the direction of her gaze. Sharply glancing over his right shoulder at his younger self, he emitted a subdued sigh, knitting his eyebrows together when he swiftly turned his head to settle his mismatched gaze on her again.
“How the fuck did Nihil not realise you were his son?” she questioned beneath her breath, blinking back her tears when she returned his stare.
“Well... he was never truly so blind. He just... “ he trailed off, huffing out a dismayed sigh. “... refused to open his eyes, you know?”
Copia huffed again and lowered his gaze to his milkshake, slowly releasing his grip on her before he cautiously backed into his seat. Aemelia let out a relieved breath and picked up her food again, her face slightly itchy now that her tears had started to dry. He stooped down to take a sip of his drink and once she took another bite of her burger, he cleared his throat and sat up straight.
"Once you have eaten... we will leave, ok? It is important that you fill your tummy, but once you are done... we will not linger." he said authoritatively, like he was speaking to a child rather than a grown woman. Despite the fact she disliked his tone, she understood and appreciated his concern for her and nodded in agreement, swallowing down her food.
They hardly spoke a word to one another after that. Copia sadly slurped through his milkshake and she sniffled her way through her burger. And once their plates and glasses were empty, Copia trapped a wad of dollar bills beneath Aemelia’s empty dish – regardless of the waitress’ refusal to have him pay for their order earlier – and they slipped from the seats of the booth in unison. They exited the diner quietly, not daring to peer back at the place in case they saw something they would regret. When the glass panelled doors clattered shut behind them they let out relieved breaths and jogged towards the parked Pontiac... Aemelia never thought she’d be thankful to see such a car, but she was immensely relieved by its presence.
However, to Copia’s surprise, once Miss Vial had unlocked the vehicle, she rounded the front to rest her palms on its hood. It was clear to him that she was steadying herself, and when he neared her a little, he could hear deep breaths escaping her, like she was attempting to calm herself down. He didn’t need to ask her about the cause of such a thing, it was obvious to him that the strange diner hauntings had overwhelmed her... and in truth, it had overwhelmed him too, he just tried not to dwell on the events too much. But then, he supposed that his memory hadn’t been quite as traumatic as hers...
"Hey... hey, it’s ok, it’s ok... “ he murmured, clutching hold of one of her shoulders. “Why don’t you sit in the back for a while, ah? We got plenty of time before dark. You have time for a little nap... if you wanted. It might... help?”
He gently tugged her away from the bonnet of the car and she continued to try and control her breathing, but she nodded and obliged his suggestion, allowing him to escort her to the rear of the vehicle. His glove clutched at her gently as his other fumbled with one of the back doors and before long, he opened it for her and she stepped in front of him, eagerly bundling herself into the back. He draped his arm away from her and hunched down so that he could peer into the open door, studying her with concern.
“It is better to sit in the back and catch your breath, ah? You can sit up straight without having to really think about it... “ he reassured, wearing a small smile when she closed her eyes and settled into the seat, clawing her black fingernails into the cord upholstery. Her breaths were consistently deep and deciding that silence probably wasn’t the best thing for her when she was trying to calm herself down, Copia cleared his throat and raised a hand to smooth back his hair. It was clear that he was unsure what to discuss, but something escaped his mouth before he had the chance to really think about it.
“I... listened to your tape.” he admitted quietly, raising his gloved hands to rest them on the door-frame that was grazing the back of his hunched form. “I played it whenever I couldn’t sleep.”
“Hm? Tape?” she murmured, her features wincing in confusion.
“You do not remember? The little mix tape you left for me. You... you were very thoughtful for doing that.” he said with a sincere expression, the sides of his mouth curling up slightly when she slumped back more comfortably, wearing a subtle smile of contentment.
“Oh, right... that. You liked it then?” she replied, her tone quiet and distant and ever so slightly amused. His mismatched eyes gleamed as he studied the calm expression on her soft features and he could no longer resist wearing a small smile of his own, observing her with his warm, mirth-filled eyes.
“I did. I... loved it. There were a lot of classics that reaaaally took me back, you know? It easily satisfied an old man like me, heh heh.”
“Bleedin’ hell... come on, you’re not that old...” she defended, her voice wobbling due to her mirth. He raised his brows in surprise, amazed that she had said such a thing but before he could open his mouth to reply... the sound of approaching footsteps cut through their conversation. His carefree expression was smeared over with a deep frown as he turned his head to the source of such a noise... and to his confusion, his gaze rested on a young boy. It seemed that the child was headed directly for their car, and from the dust and sand that covered his fawn skin and spiky black hair, and the specks of crimson the coated the light-up soles of his sneakers... it looked like he’d been running from something.
Copia backed away from the open door slightly to tilt his head inquisitively, and as the young boy grew closer and closer, he realised that he was clutching a panda plushie – which appeared to be half chewed and sodden with water – to his stripy t-shirt. Gravel crunched and his panting became loud and obvious as he tore across the tarmacked parking lot, his deep-set russet eyes wide with desperation.
Eventually, he skidded across the last bit of the parking lot until he came to a clumsy halt in front of Copia. He toppled precariously and Copia widened his eyes, jolting forwards to firmly clutch hold of the young boy’s shoulders to ensure that a fall was avoided. The boy gasped and hugged onto his nibbled panda toy for dear life as he glared into the alarming, mismatched eyes of Copia. Although the ethereal man effortlessly returned the boy’s fearful stare, he angled his head towards the open door of the Pontiac.
"Aemelia... you didn’t order a kid, did you?" he questioned casually, his raised voice causing the timid boy to tremble with nervousness. She replied with a quiet grumble of “No” and he narrowed his eyes, humming thoughtfully at the terrified boy in front of him.
“You look very lost to me... you lost?” he asked in a lighter tone, and the boy blinked a few times like he was amazed to hear Copia’s friendly tone of voice. He cautiously nodded and Copia let go of him, but remained stooped so that he could hear the boy’s reply.
“I was... running. I had to go get Freddie.” he struggled to mumble defensively, like he thought he had to justify his actions to the eccentric man before him for some reason.
“Freddie? Who is - ” Copia cut off when the boy raised up his sopping, half-chewed soft toy from his chest. “Ahh, your panda is called Freddie, I see... you were running, huh?”
“Yes!”
“You were scared something... spooky was after you?”
“Mm-hm! A biiiiig monster tried to eat him! And my... my sister wanted me to leave him... but I ran after him. I would never leave him!” he cried, his little face scrunching into a wince.
“Your sister? Hm... well, you do not have a sister with you now... unless she is invisible, heh heh. You have any idea where she could be? We can try get you back to her, ah?”
The boy frantically nodded and hugged his panda plushie to his chest again, striking out an arm in the direction Copia was sure they were headed anyway.
“She works at the next ho - motel!”
“A homo-what? Oh... shit, wait... you meant to say a motel.” Copia chuckled out in realisation, unable to hide his amused smirk. “You know what... I think that our next stop is the next motel from here anyways so... we can get you there, and even if you cannot find your sister, a motel is waaay safer than being out here. So... I’m sure we can give you a ride there. What do you say to that? Yes? No? I’m not spooking you out, am I?”
The boy shook his head, “No.”
Copia grunted a little when he finally stood out of his stoop and narrowed his eyes in suspicion, gesturing a leather-clad finger towards the boy.
“Good, good. Ehhhh... you are not... imaginary, are you? You don’t have any weird... ghostie feelings? I kinda... have to check, sorry.” he said with a shrug. The kid wrinkled his nose quizzically and frantically shook his head and Copia let out a massive sigh of relief.
“Okie dokie, we will help you get back to your big sister. You’re very welcome to go sit in the back, just make sure you wear your seat-belt, ok? We don’t want red slush puppie splattered all over the wind-shield.” he murmured darkly, stepping aside so that the boy could enter the rear seats of the Pontiac. He raised his brows in surprise when the boy scrambled into the car’s interior and awkwardly clambered around Miss Vial’s bent legs. And eventually, once he heard the loud click of the boy clipping his seat-belt in place, he expelled a sigh of relief, resting his mismatched eyes on Aemelia’s features... she was contentedly napping and likely had no idea what had just transpired.
Although he knew that she would feel a little stressed when she awoke to find out that they were suddenly in charge of a mysterious, stray child... he was certain that she would think he had done the right thing. Then again, he’d been wrong before...
15 : Run Down the Devil
The silence that filled the white Pontiac was a little melancholic but it wasn’t too unpleasant. Aemelia was focused on the road ahead and occasionally flicked her eyes over the sides of the tarmac, hoping that she would find a sign or something indicating their next stop. But sadly it was becoming rather difficult now that the sun was smoothly setting. Dusk was commencing its reign and the desert brush was starting to look the same with every mile that passed. Although the pitch-black was starting to invade, the last curved edge of the sun was still visible on the horizon and it bled up towards the blackness in an unusual searing crimson, flooding the last remnants of light with an unnerving and unnatural scarlet hue.
Copia was unusually quiet, and it was likely due to the recent events of the late afternoon. Miss Vial was incredibly grateful that he was sat quietly, even if she did find it a little strange, but she assumed it was probably something to do with the presence of the spiky haired boy that was happily strapped into one of the rear seats. Once she had awoken earlier, the child’s presence had certainly been a shock, but she hadn’t been disgruntled like Copia had predicted... she’d simply accepted that they were to assist the boy and had silently climbed into the driver’s seat. In truth, the fact that the russet-eyed child was covered in desert dust and subtle scatterings of crimson concerned her immensely. Both adults knew that something serious must have happened, especially considering the soaking – and mauled – presence of the panda plushie that he was lightly clutching to his stripy t-shirt.
After quite a long, deafening silence, Copia cleared his throat and shuffled in the passenger’s seat, his mismatched eyes trailing towards the nearest side-mirror. He studied the kid quietly, and his gaze began to narrow once he realised that the boy seemed to be cheerfully muttering to his soft toy, his subtle smile causing Copia’s suspicions to soar. He carefully leaned to the left without taking his eyes from the mirror, and once his sleeve grazed the gearstick, he cautiously nudged his elbow into Aemelia’s side.
She instantly set her jaw but hastily turned her head and once she followed the direction of his gaze with her own, she understood what he was inferring. She dropped her slight annoyance and centred her head to focus on the rear-view mirror, observing the young boy. Her brows met in a confused scowl when she realised that he seemed to be contentedly swinging his thin legs over the seat and talking to his panda toy... unlike Copia, she couldn’t silently study the boy’s behaviour for much longer. Something was most definitely off... she had to say something.
“We’ll be at the motel soon, alright?” she reassured softly, black irises skeptical when she saw the boy promptly flick his head up to meet her stare in the rear-view mirror. “What does your sister look like? Does she have a car that we could look out for?”
“Ummm, this car kinda reminds me of her actually.” he replied in a small voice, his entertained eyes trailing back towards his panda, of which he was puppeting the arms. Copia wore the hint of an amused smirk and his eyes gleamed with curiosity.
“Ahhh, she has muscle car?” he piped up in amusement, continuing to observe the boy in his side-mirror. “That’s pretty cool, heh heh... you... hungry? You must be, ah? You were out in that desert for... what? A couple hours?”
The boy was quiet and purposely ignored the man’s question, wrapping his fawn arms tightly around his toy when he awkwardly shifted his russet eyes to the floor beneath his light-up sneakers. Copia hunched down slightly and swiftly scooped up his last box of snacks from the rubber mat beneath his winkle-pickers. He shoved a gloved hand into its muddled recesses, rustling the plastic packets dramatically. And then he yanked out a sealed Twinkie, reaching an arm back to offer it to the boy.
“Uh-uh! I’m full, thank you.” the child replied, causing Copia and Aemelia to share quizzical glances. “But I’m super thirsty. And I wasn’t out there that long. Last time it was days before I met up with my sister. It’s nothing I can’t handle.”
Copia jolted his arm away and dumped the wrapped Twinkie back into his boxed snack bin in order to clumsily pull the glove-box open. Aemelia scowled at his rushed actions – but figured his panic was understandable given what the child had just said - and once he swiped up a litre bottle of mineral water – that he’d somehow managed to squeeze into such a small compartment – he stretched his left arm back again, offering it to the boy. The child immediately leaned forwards and took his fawn hands away from his toy to clutch the plastic bottle to his chest. Copia snatched his arm away and watched the side-mirror in wonder as the boy snapped off the sealed lid of the bottle in one clean twist and tipped the rim to his lips. His russet eyes were wide as he began to eagerly swallow the mineral water, desperately gulping it down like he hadn’t had a drink in days.
Although the boy continued to drink and drink without pausing to take a breath, Copia shuffled back to sit up straight in his seat, glaring at Miss Vial... who looked just as alarmed as he did. The boy continued to loudly glug the water behind them and Aemelia tilted her head to face Copia. Although she kept her eyes on the road, the concern on her face was plain for him to see.
“I can’t be doing with you being so... quiet. What’s up with you?” she murmured calmly, her gaze shifting to settle on the reflection of the boy in the rear-view mirror. “Other than the obvious, obviously.”
“Oh... ahm... I’m just... kinda overwhelmed with everything that’s happened today, you know? It was kinda nasty to see Nihil all lively again.” he responded in a hushed tone, knitting his brows together at the unsettling sound of the kid’s desperate guzzling.
“Well, yeah... it definitely wasn’t great but it could’ve been worse.” she said emptily, letting out a subdued sigh. “At least he didn’t hit on you...”
Copia's eyes widened into saucers and he snapped his head around to face her again, searching her impassive expression with a horrified wince, “He did what?!”
“It’s fine, don’t worry. I put him back in his place.” she casually assured, the concern in her dark irises finally vanishing when a loud, satisfied gasp came from the back seats. “He knew he fucked up trying that shit with me... anyway, if that’s what’s bothering you so much... let’s not talk about it. You know what... fuck it, what's new with you, Copia?”
“Eh... new?” he asked in a small voice, confused how quickly she had shifted the topic of conversation.
“Yeah... surely you must have gained loads of shit from your ascension. Other than full control of the Clergy's accounts...” she murmured, mirth present in her eyes when she witnessed the young boy discard the - now completely empty - plastic bottle over the seat next to him. The hollow sound of it grazing the cord upholstery caused Copia to clench his teeth together but he refrained from turning his head towards the sound, lowering his irritated eyes to tips of his shoes.
“Ah... yes, heh, heh. I certainly have gained a lot . Many, maaany things. Maybe even... things that I still haven’t realised myself.”
“Right, so... what you’re saying is... you have no idea?” Aemelia asked cynically, the corners of her mouth threatening to display a smirk.
“No, no, I never said that, Aemelia. I just... feel that there is more to be discovered, you know?” he softly said with a faint wince, his mismatched eyes scolding the reflection in his side-mirror... where the gleaming plastic of the empty water bottle seemed to taunt him. “Shit.. . I really have to pee.”
She loudly huffed in dismayed annoyance and simply replied by slowing the vehicle. He was surprised that she wasn’t going to comment on his vocal complaint, and once the Pontiac came to a reluctant halt by the very edge of the road, he cleared his throat and frantically wrestled off his seat-belt before throwing his door open. It was clear that he hadn’t been exaggerating because he unmindfully jogged around the front of the car, eagerly headed towards the desert brush that lined the tarmac, not giving a damn about the ominous shade of dusk as he dashed towards the nearest bush. Aemelia shook her head in amusement and decided to avert her eyes from the back of him when he stilled, pulled down his zipper and let out a loud gasp of relief. She opted to study the tarmac ahead instead... which was eerily vacant of any red tail-lights, it was simply a thick blanket of black. The stark creamy tunnels of the Pontiac’s headlights split through the shadows of dusk that were directly in front of her, but the unnerving call of the dark unknown that lurked on the horizon made her feel uneasy. She sighed as she focused on the gentle burbling of the running engine - which shook the floor beneath her feet - and it seemed to calm her slightly.
Eventually, realising that Copia’s brief toilet stop was slowly becoming a lot longer than she had originally thought, she lowered her hands from the steering wheel and flicked her eyes towards the reflection of the boy in the rear-view mirror. She adjusted the lapels of her blazer slightly when the boy swiftly met her stare, arms hugging his sodden soft toy to his chest.
“I bet you’re not feeling so thirsty now...” she said with an amused smile, raising one of her brows.
“Mm-hm!” he chirped, biting into his crooked smile. “I’ll be ok for another hour... I think.”
She tilted her head and parted her mouth to ask him something, but before she could, he abruptly straightened in his seat and a look of terror swept over him. He brashly took an arm away from his panda toy to strike it forwards, pointing a slender index finger towards the darkness through the wind-shield.
“W-What’s that?!” he shrieked, exhaling out a deep, anxious breath that was strangely visible as swirling grey vapour that escaped his nostrils. Aemelia scowled in bewilderment at the sight of his smoky exhales... but before she said anything on the matter, she reluctantly turned her head and trailed her dark eyes in the direction the boy was pointing... and immediately, her hands clamped onto the curved edges of the steering wheel.
For there, looming amongst the thick, unrelenting blackness was a tall, horned figure. Intermittent puffs of steam seared from its cloven feet and its eyes – if they could be called that – glowed an unnaturally vivid red. They could have easily been mistaken for the glow of a vehicle’s tail-lights from afar, but the lack of subtle flickering was the tell tale that it was simply a ruthless, endless set of fiery irises. The figure’s presence was so ominous and intimidating that she wasted no time and simply acted on impulse . Before she realised what she was doing, she glared her black eyes at the horned figure that was calmly stood over the smooth tarmac a few yards ahead of her... and then slammed her foot down on the accelerator.
The splitting screech of the car’s tires caused Copia to widen his eyes and he clumsily finished his actions. He abruptly glanced at the sight of the fleeing muscle car over his shoulder and his shocked expression was instantaneous. He cursed beneath his breath and promptly zipped up his suit pants, hurriedly backing away from the desert brush to break into a run. He was desperately hoping that Miss Vial didn’t intend to abandon him in the middle of nowhere...
Aemelia’s eyes were wide with fear as she violently changed up the gears, oblivious to the horrified expression of the boy and the distant silhouette of a sprinting Copia in the rear-view mirror. The engine growled louder and louder as the Pontiac gained even more speed, and her teeth clenched together when the lucid, enflamed eyes of the horned figure started to reflect in her shining obsidian irises...
A choked gasp escaped her when the hood of the vehicle finally collided with the sturdy form of the mighty creature... and the ride suddenly became a lot bumpier when it silently slid beneath the classic car’s wheels. There was an unholy cracking sound that complemented the rev of the engine as its bones crunched over the tarmac and grit... she winced, reluctantly deciding to slam her other shoe onto the brake pedal. The Pontiac screeched to an uncomfortable halt, thick trails of tire-smoke rising up to cut through the blanket of darkness behind it. Her hands clutched at the steering wheel desperately and she lowered her glaring eyes to her hands, like she was already imagining that she had blood on them... she wondered what the hell she was playing at but then... she’d been terrified.
She simply sat like that for a little while, stunned by her own impulsive actions... imagining the congealed mass of viscera that could very well have been smeared over the tarmac behind her. While she was still startled and focused on regretting her actions, she failed to notice the approaching scratch of Copia’s hasty footsteps, and soon, he skidded to a halt beside the half-open passenger door, doubling over to catch his breath. He glared at the interior of the car and once he caught sight of Aemelia, he stared at her like she had deeply offended him.
“Wha... what the shit, Aemelia?!” he gasped out between a couple of wheezes, pressing his gloved palms into the material covering his thighs. “Were you... were you going to leave me?!”
“Of course not, you fuck-wit.” she replied simply in an empty, distant tone. “There was something there... in front of the car. Just... staring right at me with its horns and shit. I don’t even know what it was. I just... fucking panicked and figured I’d knock it down with the car, alright?”
He winced at her shrill, defensive tone and when a few more exhausted breaths escaped him, he nimbly dipped down to awkwardly slide onto the passenger seat.
“Ehhh... what... horns? But... there was... nothing back there, Miss Vial. I swear to you, I would have seen it. There is nothing behind the car, ok? No... thing you could have hit.” he assured, his breaths still deep as he reached an arm across to firmly clutch a gloved hand around her right shoulder.
“But I felt it... the car... I ran something over.” she murmured, knitting her eyebrows in confusion when she abruptly flinched her shoulder to shake off his hand and turn around to face the boy who was still sat over the backseat. “You felt that bump too, right?”
The kid – who didn’t appear to be scared or uncomfortable at all - nodded his head casually, “Mm-hm! I definitely heard a crunch.”
16 : The Reminder
The dismal, concrete-clad sight of the two-tier motel was a welcome relief. Its buzzing neon sign effortlessly cut through the desert blackness and as soon as Miss Vial noticed its presence, she gently increased the speed of the Pontiac, desperate to escape the confines of the car. She was still anxious to give the vehicle a good inspection to see if there was any evidence she’d hit anything, so the sooner she was able to do that, the better. Copia clutched his gloves around the sides of his seat as she dramatically threw the vehicle into a tight turn and she almost managed to execute a successful drift once they spun into the motel’s modest driveway.
The boy in the back clutched his mangled panda to his chest but beamed a smile of approval once the car slowed in order to casually roll through the tarmacked parking lot. To both Copia and Aemelia’s surprise, the place was bustling. Various types of vehicles - from deluxe motorhomes to half-wrecked sedans and pristine low rider motorcycles – were occupying most of the spaces, and after trickling by a few packed parking bays, Miss Vial grew impatient and rolled her eyes, abruptly turning the steering wheel to fling the car into the next empty space they came across.
However, when the Pontiac suddenly slowed and she reached to her right to crank the handbrake... they had barely come to a dead stop before the boy eagerly clipped off his seat-belt and cracked open the nearest door. Copia glared his eyes and sharply glanced over his shoulder, opening his mouth in order to deter the boy from whatever he was doing... but it was too late. The spiky-haired child smoothly slipped out of the interior as the car was still crawling, timing landing his feet over the tarmac perfectly whilst he curtly slammed the door shut. Aemelia finally pulled the handbrake and she worriedly glanced at Copia, who shared a similar expression of bewilderment when he peered back at her.
“I guess... he must have spotted his sister, ah?” he muttered with a sigh, their eyes trailing to the rear-view mirror in unison. They watched the reflection silently... the boy was already dashing towards the doors of the motel’s reception where a young woman – who couldn’t have been much older than eighteen - was loitering outside. Even from afar, they both noticed the resemblance between the girl and the young boy and their gazes narrowed in suspicion when the two siblings finally bumped fists like they were casually greeting each other. Their calm behaviour was strange, like them being apart was a common occurrence, but both Copia and Miss Vial decided not question it much further. After all, they’d completed their end of the deal and they figured that all was well if the boy was now with someone he trusted.
Copia blinked a couple of times and tore his eyes away from the reflection upon the sound of the engine shutting off, and once Miss Vial’s seat-belt snaked away from her, he mirrored her actions. They climbed out of their seats and she slammed her door shut harder than necessary, not uttering a word when she set her jaw and rounded the side of the vehicle, plainly headed towards the trunk. He cleared his throat and lightly closed the passenger door, mismatched eyes wide when he happened to catch sight of a glaring, misshapen dent in the hood of the car. The immaculate white paint had started to crack in places and even the crinkles of the framework beneath had started to clump together... it was clear to him that Miss Vial had definitely hit something. And whatever it was had been quite a large creature, considering the hefty width of the indentation.
At the smooth sound of her propping up the Pontiac’s tail-gate, he reluctantly shrugged and turned away, slowly traipsing around the car in order to assist her. When he arrived beside her, his eyes were drawn to a blatant splatter of rusty coloured liquid that was smeared over the right side of the chrome bumper... and the panicked way Aemelia hurriedly rifled through the contents of the trunk let him know that she had likely noticed such a thing too. Deciding that it was probably best to keep his mouth shut – he certainly didn’t want to encourage her panic - he simply cleared his throat and cautiously glanced over his shoulder, allowing her to peacefully scour the recesses of the trunk for their luggage.
His curious conflicting irises trailed towards the unimpressive, lifeless concrete motel, and although he was a little disappointed that they had to stay the night there... something happened to catch his attention. His eyes snapped towards the bleak second floor balcony, and he could just make out the faint homely glow of a couple of flickering candles on its concrete ledge. And behind the warm glow of flames, a woman was stood... and he was certain that she was staring right at him. Her tanned skin looked golden due to the candlelight and her long waves of blonde hair framed her form, which was loosely covered in a flowing bohemian summer dress.
He furrowed his brow and simply stared at the woman for a little while... just to see if she would turn her head elsewhere, but she didn’t. She continued to observe him from a distance and a proud smirk sprawled across his face. She must have been rather curious to stare at him for so long, but then, he was wearing his snazzy red tailcoat and dazzling skull-paint... he supposed he probably stuck out like a sore thumb to her, even in the darkness. That fact only caused his smirk to spread wider and he practically felt the woman’s curiosity the longer he returned her distant gaze, and before long, he suddenly got the urge to act overly charming... like he desired to impress the candlelit stranger, even from afar.
Miss Vial let out a heavy sigh of relief and yanked one of his snakeskin suitcases from the trunk, and once she turned around to face Copia – who was swaying from side to side in a coy manner as he peered at the distant, ethereal woman over his shoulder – she scowled at his strange behaviour. She knew from the gleam of mischief in his eyes that the calculated cogs in his mind were smoothly turning and she shook her head, clicking her tongue as she brashly thrust his suitcase into his chest. He let out a winded “oof!” but simply stood still and hugged his arms around the edges of his luggage on reflex, his attention still firmly on the silhouette of the woman, who was still basking in the light of her flickering candles.
As he continued to gaze at the woman, intensely intrigued by her distant attention, Aemelia snatched up her leather doctor’s bag and once it was snugly tucked beneath an arm, firmly shoved the tail-gate down. Ignoring the fact that Copia was strangely silent and oblivious to her actions, she ensured the vehicle was securely locked and then immediately began to wander towards the doors to the motel’s reception. At first, she couldn’t be sure he was following her, but eventually she could hear the subtle scuff of his footsteps as he trailed over the tarmac behind her and she exhaled deeply through her nose, refraining from making a cynical comment - she was far too tired after the eventful day they’d had to prolong the time she spent awake, the motel room was practically calling her.
Now that they were nearing the reception doors, she decided to shoot one last glance to the boy they’d assisted earlier. Her expression was indifferent but she furrowed her brow as they passed the chatting siblings, the sister appeared to be smoking a cigarette... or so she thought. At first, Miss Vial thought it was a little inconsiderate of the young woman, considering that her younger brother was happily chattering away by her side. But then, when Aemelia slowed her strides to really assess the situation, she quickly realised that the woman had a thin white tube poised between her fingers. At first glance it looked like a cigarette, but after squinting her eyes, Aemelia could tell that it was simply a white pen. She slowed even more, scowling in interest, and the longer she stared, the more she realised that the existence of the tumbling clouds of smoke was odd. And considering the lack of a cigarette and the swirling, ash-like wisps of smoke that were corkscrewing out of the young woman’s nostrils... Miss Vial knew that there must have been something superhuman about the pair of siblings.
“It’s cool that you finally managed to get a ride, though.” Aemelia heard the sister chirp with a beaming grin, her eyes narrowing even more when the girl stooped down slightly to ruffle her brother’s hair. “And... is that a frickin’ panda... where the heck did you get that thing? You’re not gonna keep it, are you?”
Miss Vial’s suspicions finally peaked but she quickly averted her stare and focused on her destination instead, clenching her teeth together to stop herself from uttering a word. She tightly clutched her leather luggage bag beneath her arm and quickened her pace slightly, desperate to escape the presence of whatever the hell the siblings were.
Unlike Miss Vial, Copia was steadily strolling after her, his pace cool, calm and collected. He was utterly oblivious to what she had witnessed, too focused on eagerly returning the enchanting stare of the long-haired blonde that was still fluttering her thick eyelashes at him from the second floor balcony. Upon hearing Miss Vial push open the doors to the reception, he finally ended their mutual stare by slowly turning his head away, another sly smirk wriggling its way onto his mouth...
Aemelia rolled her eyes... the motel room was stuffy and unpleasant without the rampant whines coming from the neighbouring room. It was almost twelve at night and completely pitch-black outside, but it still felt like the sun was searing its rays through the dusty windows due to how humid it was and she huffed in discomfort, reluctantly prising herself up from the cheap nylon bedsheets. She regretted leaving her clothes on to sleep now that they were uncomfortably clutching to her clammy form, but she decided that she preferred it to lying over the dubious bedsheets with very little on. Womanly cries of pleasure cut through the wall behind the bed and persisted to be loud and over-dramatic. She shuffled across the rumpled covers to perch on the edge of the mattress, squeezing her watering eyes shut when she gently massaged her throbbing temples.
There was no chance of her getting a decent sleep with the clinging heat and excitable racket going on in the room next door, so she lightly growled in irritation and stubbornly found the energy to stand from the bed. Concerning thumps started to join the noises of boisterous gratification and she clenched her teeth together, cracking her eyes open so that she could direct herself through the darkness of the small motel room. Eventually, after quite some effort, she managed to arrive at one of the few pieces of furniture in the room – a salvaged oak dresser - and she reached her hands out, fumbling about its surface in order to grab hold of a few items. She scooped up her door key, cell phone and packet of smokes – she was fully expecting that she was going to be spending quite a while away from the room, next door’s shenanigans didn’t sound like they were coming to an end any time soon – and suddenly, she grew impatient and urged herself to speed up her actions. She slipped her phone into the recesses of her waistcoat and clutched the other items to her chest, unable to fight off a tired yawn.
She managed to open her eyes a little more and brashly turned around, promptly marching towards the door with an unimpressed sneer. Slotting her key in place, she abruptly exited the room as quickly as she could, ensuring that she locked the door after herself. She breathed an enormous sigh of relief when she stepped onto the cement balcony in front of the sleazy row of motel rooms. She was grateful that her room was located on the second level because there seemed to be much more of a breeze, and thankfully, it seemed to ease her annoyance slightly. She took a few more steps towards the edge of the balcony where a small trail of snuffed candles lined its edge and a couple of sleek wooden benches faced the horizon. She stretched herself out across the entire length of one of the benches, keeping one leg outstretched while she bent the other. She let herself settle down over the seat and focused on the ambience around her. There was something pleasantly reassuring about the subtle sound of lively crickets and the distant clamour of burbling engines and tires over tarmac... but being so cynical, she figured that she was just relieved not to be trapped in a room where she was forced to listen to inconsiderate neighbours.
She shuffled over the bench until she could just see over the cement balcony and sliding her room key into her waistcoat, she pulled out her box of matches. Despite her hands going through the ritualistic motions of lighting a cigarette, her black eyes were captivated by the far off glows of tail lights and full beams on the freeway in the distance. For a desert, it wasn’t so deserted. She was surprised there were so many vehicles, considering it was going on midnight. But then, if she wasn’t so tired, she would have happily driven through the darkness too. She found driving through the night rather satisfying, and she was slightly disappointed that she couldn’t find the energy to join the vivid blurs of tail-lights.
Ignoring the tempting call of the free-way, she slid her freshly lit cigarette between her lips and tucked away the couple of items that had been resting over her chest. Then she tipped her head back, closing her eyes at the first hit of nicotine. Drawing the cigarette away from her mouth for a moment, she expelled a large cloud of opal smoke, and once she opened her eyes, she admired the distant scene of the free-way again, grateful that it seemed to be distracting her from her tiredness.
She stayed like that for quite some time, content studying the vibrant night-life. Even when her cigarette eventually reached its end, she continued to silently observe, welcoming the subdued swipes of passing traffic and the squeaks of drivers slamming on their brakes. By the time she'd been sat out there for forty minutes, she’d lit her second cigarette and she poised it between her slender fingers, her expression peaceful as she continued to observe the roads in the distance.
Her feeling of peace managed to stay for a little while longer, even when the sound of a door bursting open behind her curtly interrupted the satisfying sounds that made up the ambience of the place. The noisy addition hadn’t been enough to break her concentration because she was still glued to the urban scene ahead of her, but when the scratch of shoe soles emerged from the paved ground behind her, her black eyes faltered and she raised the smouldering cigarette to her mouth, taking another long drag to distract herself.
Focusing on the smoke that was filling her airways, she was oblivious to the fact that Copia was cautiously approaching her. Grit crunched beneath the soles of his chelsea boots and he kept his movements smooth and nimble, until he managed to reach the end of the bench that she was laid upon. He quietly slid onto the narrow bit of seat that was left beside her legs. Then he pivoted on the seat so that he could face her and bashfully pushed back his dishevelled hair with the edge of his jacket’s sleeve. His mismatched eyes glinted as they studied her neutral expression and he eagerly followed her line of sight, the sides of his mouth curling due to how content she seemed.
However, he couldn’t focus on the free-way like she could and found himself flicking his conflicting irises away to settle his gaze on her features again. His eyes traced the shape of her jaw until he was inevitably drawn to her mouth, which was parted to let out a wispy trail of opal smoke. He kept his breathing quiet and simply watched her for a little while, allowing his infatuation to control him. And it wasn’t long before he opened his mouth to say something, though it seemed he was so attracted to her that he didn’t even notice he was doing such a thing.
“You are... here because of the noise?” he suddenly piped up, his voice hoarse and hesitant, giving away that he was somewhat lost to the fantasies playing out in his head. Aemelia let out another heavy exhale but she continued to peer at the scene before her like he hadn’t even spoken.
“Not strictly. It’s a lot more comfortable out here after the bloody furnace temperatures in there.” she responded simply, the cigarette fuming away between the crooks of her fingers. Copia wore a small smile of amusement, the creases around his eyes crinkling slightly. He trailed his gaze over her slender fingers and they lingered over her knuckles, and each eye glinted with curious intentions.
“So... you did not mind... that I... pleasured a woman next door to you?” he questioned softly when he pressed his lips into a crumpled smile, mischief blatantly present in his mismatched eyes. She furrowed her brow into a scowl but firmly kept her gaze on the free-way, not daring to give him her attention because she knew he would be staring at her with the hopes of her fulfilling his temptations.
“No. I couldn’t give a damn about who you’ve been in. Why would I give a shit?” she snapped coldly, her dark eyes hardening with indifference.
“Well... it is unprofessional, no?” he teased, his smile broadening into a smirk as he shuffled a little further onto the bench so that one of his thighs was resting against the side of one of her shoes.
“Since when did you ever care about being professional?” she questioned in a grumble, shaking her head in confusion though she still kept her gaze dead ahead. “ You're free to do whatever. You're a grown Papa. I couldn’t give a rat’s arse what you do, so long as you don't harm anyone or... piss me off.”
“Really? I can... do whatever?” he swiftly replied in a hoarse murmur, parting his lips in dreamy amazement. Desire clouded his eyes and he took a few seconds to slowly nod in approval, raking his eyes over her relaxed form with brazen hunger. And then suddenly, he averted his eyes from her for a short moment, stretching his arms up above his head in an exaggerated fashion. He feigned an over-dramatic yawn and sprawled his legs either side of him, his spine meeting the back of the bench as he settled into a comfortable slouch. His actions caused a slight lump over the crotch of his suit pants to become apparent and he lowered his arms with a knowing smirk, resting them over the edge of the bench behind his head.
Sinking a little lower into the crook of the seat, he slowly turned his head to acknowledge her again, and to his impish delight, she was staring back at him, fingers poised lazily around her burning cigarette as she held it to the side of her right cheek. She narrowed her eyes and grudgingly regarded his blatant arousal, and almost immediately, she rolled her eyes away from him, huffing out another white cloud of smoke in disinterest.
“I think the woman you’ve been pleasuring can probably help you with that.” she retorted in a deadpan tone, setting her jaw as she persisted to drill her eyes into the horizon.
“Ehhh... naa, I don't think so.” he quickly responded, underlying amusement and enthusiasm causing his voice to waver slightly. “She fell asleep a few seconds after she came. I must have made her feel veeery relaxed, you know?”
Aemelia tossed her head around to glare at him, a mortified scowl adding to her look of alarmed disgust. Her eyes continued to widen when he calmly returned her stare and his gaze became wise, like he was proud that the details of his sexual encounter had taken her by surprise.
“And ehh... she will not be able to help me at all, Miss Vial. I no longer have access to her room now... ah well...” he added in an innocent tone, shrugging with feigned disappointment.
“Wow. How smooth, Copia.” she quipped, her voice unusually bitter. “You crawled out of her room like nothing ever happened, just to creep your way here and talk to me? Fuck me, y ou’re so fuckin’ sleazy.”
He dropped his mask of innocence and smirked at her, his eyes gleaming at her wickedly.
“Weeeeell, I might be a little sleazy but... that is because I like to leave mysteriously.” he exclaimed in a calm, casual manner. “I like these opportunities to be exciting, pleasurable experiences that the person will never be able to forget, you know? And after what I did to her, she won’t forget her Papa in a hurry, heh heh.”
Aemelia's narrowed eyes were skeptical as she took another drag, blinking away the critical thoughts that she wanted to voice. She firmly decided against voicing anything, feeling that she would fall into some conniving trap that Copia had concocted so that he could smoothly close in and pin her into an inescapable corner.
“You... really don't mind?” he asked again softly and sincerely, hoping to witness a slither of jealousy. But her face was neutral and impossible to decipher. He knitted his brows together in concentration, searching her features for a flicker of envy but her mask of indifference stayed firmly in place.
“Of course not. Why would I?” she questioned just as softly, a deep frown etching onto her brow.
“Because... ehhh...” his high-pitched voice trailed off, his face suddenly wincing with nervousness as a furious blush coated his cheeks. The abrupt end to his hesitation caused Aemelia to reluctantly turn her head to face him and he instantly met her stare, searching her obsidian irises with undiluted adoration. She really didn’t want to be caught up in his melancholic yearning, but the expression in his eyes was too fascinating to dismiss. She found she couldn’t look away, even when he started to rise from the bench he’d been sat on, his gaze intense and sincere. She watched in concerned confusion as he slowly moved towards her, fumbling his hands together to clumsily take off his soiled leather gloves. She glared at him in bewilderment as he discarded them both over his shoulder and they quietly settled over the cement floor behind him.
And then he took a final step forwards, confidently grasping hold of her bent leg with a bare hand. She could feel the coldness of his skin as he slid his hand down from her knee and he slackened his grip once he rested his palm over the centre of her thigh. Her glared eyes became stubborn and uncomfortable as he began to stroke her sturdy muscle, but even her dark expression didn't deter him from carrying out his actions. Assuredly returning her stare, he smoothly stooped forwards, the slow caress of his palm turning into a firm knead and eventually, he had stooped low enough to hover his mouth beside her left ear.
“I want you to know that I have been saving myself for you, Miss Vial.” he confessed in a whisper, the smooth tip of his nose grazing the edge of her ear as the heat of his gentle breaths seeped into the skin of her nape. Both his actions and words prompted her to swiftly turn her head to face him with a stern, disapproving look but as soon as she did, his leg kneading ceased and he backed away so that she could see his conniving smirk. Then he swiped a hand towards the lit cigarette she had poised between her fingers and gently slid it from her grasp, enjoying her look of startled confusion.
“Oi! What the fuck do you think you’re - ?!”
His wicked features caused her words to cut off and he continued to hunch down a little, mirroring her actions by coolly poising her fuming cigarette between his bare digits. Then, still peering at her with undeniable affection, he dexterously placed it between his lips to take a long, hard drag. When he briefly took it away from his mouth to puff out his first smoky exhale, she gritted her teeth together, too confused and tired to deal with his mischievous antics. She widened her eyes when she felt the gentle pat of a hand on her leg again and she reluctantly bent both of her legs, obliging him. Now there was a little more space, he shuffled onto the edge of the bench again, taking another short inhale in order to expel another cloud of opal vapour.
“You will cave one day, Aemelia.” he said confidently, his voice thick from the smoke. “You are close... I can feel it.”
“I am nowhere near close.” she quipped, her impassive eyes stabbing into him like his words had offended her somehow.
“Heh heh, you are very cute when you lie, ah?” he teased, unable to resist shooting her a playful wink. “And so sexy when you scold me with your eyes...”
“I'm... sorry, Copia. Are you seriously trying to charm me like I'm the woman you’ve just rudely discarded?”
“No, I am not.” he retorted, raising his voice a little. “There is no point in the charm with you, I know you well enough to understand that now. And do not ever compare yourself to a fleeting encounter, ok? You are much more than that. You know you are more to me than... that.”
“How am I?”
“I could write a whole fucking testament explaining the reasons why, Aemelia.”
“Well, could you at least paraphrase?” she questioned, frustrated with how vague and mysterious he was trying to be.
“Ok, ok... listen, if you ever allow me to touch you as I truly wish to... you will understand completely, ok? I swear to you, on the blood of Lucifer – my blood - that I will ensure every one of your needs is met. And in those moments, you will feel that I will never tire of you. In all the time we had apart... I saw you every time I closed my fucking eyes and still, I couldn’t be sick of you. That is the difference between you and eh... whatever her name was...”
“That’s not helpful to me at all.” Aemelia snapped, squinting at him in bewilderment as he took another long drag from her cigarette. Then he leaned back with a subtle smile, tipping his head back to puff out another load of smoke into the air.
“Heh, it wasn’t supposed to be.”
His smug, temptation-laced reply caused her eyes to narrow in annoyance and she suddenly darted towards him, abruptly snatching the last of her smoking cigarette from his relaxed fingers. He seemed fairly surprised by her blunt actions and his mismatched eyes followed the motion of her hand as she brought the end of the cigarette to her mouth. He studied her slender fingers and then, once she swiped the cigarette away, tunnelled clouds of opal smoke escaping her, his eyes trailed over the lower half of her arms, which were bare due to her shirt sleeves being rolled to her elbows. He expected her skin to be milky white, but when he saw the flash of something inky black, his eyes flashed in fascination.
“Aemelia... are they? Eh...” he trailed off, leaning a little closer to dip his head down to get a better look.
“What?” she snapped in irritation, reluctantly twisting her arms around so that he couldn't see the insides of her tender forearms.
“Your arms... was that a... Grucifix that I saw there?” he asked, his voice peaking in excited interest. She could tell from his tone alone that he was utterly surprised by the sight of his church’s distinctive emblem. She sighed and decided there was no point hiding them from him anymore now that he’d spotted one of them, another cloud of smoke spewing out in front of her.
“Yeah, it was. Both arms.” she muttered emptily, failing to hide the sad waver in her voice.
“May I... see?”
Poising her smouldering cigarette between her lips, she rolled her bare arms outwards to show him her tattooed pair of Grucifixes. She was silently cursing herself for allowing him to inspect the inked insides of her forearms, annoyed that he’d only caught sight of them because she had forgotten to cover them... apparently the loud noises, heat and lack of sleep had made her neglect the things she was usually set on hiding. He dipped down to inspect her tattoos closer, enthralled by their complex fine lines and before he could get any closer, she huffed and snatched her arms away from him.
“Bleedin' hell, I think you need glasses.” she scolded as she pressed her forearms into her chest protectively, prompting him to wince in confusion and remorsefully raise his bare hands.
“Ah! Sorry, sorry! I will not touch you, ok? I just... like to see this kinda shit close up. And it is hard to make out properly because of the dark, you know?”
She rolled her eyes in defeat and slowly allowed her arms to fall over her lap, displaying her matching forearms to him. The black lines of each Grucifix were clean and completely symmetrical, and the insides of the shapes were bustling with complex patterns and delicate embellishments... he hummed thoughtfully and knitted his eyebrows together, in awe of the finite artistry as he trailed his eyes over the inked skin of her forearms.
“Hm... they are... so intricate.” he murmured with a faint wince, his tone distant but interested. “What made you decide to have these done? You feel a little more chill with Lucifer or... did you just miss me that much? Heh heh heh...”
“Yeah... neither of those." she said honestly, her cigarette see-sawing. “They’re just... a fitting reminder.”
His amusement disappeared and he frowned in bewilderment. He wanted to ask her to explain further, but from the expression of discomfort on her face, he simply decided to say nothing instead.
17 : The Small Print
The date of the Killing Sun Festival had finally arrived. And due to their late night discussion on the motel’s balcony, both Copia and Vial had mutually agreed to sleep until afternoon before they’d returned to their respective rooms. It had been a wise decision, considering that the festival was due to begin at dusk and had Copia actually spent some time reading the fine print of his invitation, he would have understood why. But of course, he didn’t bother to give it another glance over once he’d finally woken the next afternoon. Instead, he focused on preparing himself for the night ahead, opting to wear his smart – and immaculately pressed - white suit... it seemed like he was intending to stand out amongst the crowd, but it also happened to accompany his thick vibrant rat-paint and the stark white Pontiac quite well, much to his delight. Once he was content that he was dressed, groomed and painted to an adequate standard – oblivious to the fact he had overdone it with his aftershave... he would probably have Miss Vial holding her breath for the majority of the car ride there – he folded his invitation in half and tucked it into the internal pockets of his tailcoat.
And with that, he scooped up his snakeskin suitcase and departed the shabby motel room, bright-eyed - and brightly dressed - for an evening with Aemelia Vial... he was certain that it was going to be an evening that neither of them would ever forget.
It was quarter to ten. The billowing night sky was awash with surreal coats of indigo and wisps of ominous crimson bled into its shadowy canvas. The moon was abnormally large and its curved edges were thinly rimmed with a spray of scarlet, it dominated the sky so much that the moonlight flooded the vast flatness of the desert plain below. Standing fire-torches were scattered about its width but the place was far from vacant. A shining sprawl of parked vehicles was neatly lined into symmetrical rows and each one had contributed to the swarm of thousands upon thousands of distinct festival-goers that were nonchalantly walking the wide expanse of the thriving plain.
It had taken quite some time for Copia and Miss Vial to arrive at such a place. Their couple of food stops were likely to blame, but the arduous traffic jam they had ended up stuck in - the dust tracks on the last stretch there had been unbelievably slow – certainly hadn’t helped. After Copia thrusted the invitation through an open window at the main entrance, Miss Vial had insisted that he exited the vehicle – to prevent him from excitedly chattering for the rest of the way there - and he’d been very reluctant to leave her. But eventually, she’d managed to persuade him to hop out with a defeated sigh and he’d left her to park their rental car in peace.
In any other circumstance the white Pontiac would have stood out, but to her surprise, as Aemelia followed the various cloaked parking ushers who were furiously waving her to the next free space on the dust plain, she realised that the impressive accumulation of other vehicles were just as rare and unusual. There were classic models from decades back that were in peak condition, cars that shouldn’t have even been able to run considering their exposed engines, motorbikes that had ambiguous frames that were eerily similar to human bones, vehicles that were unclassifiable due to their strange make-shift frames, cars that had singed and smoking frames after presumably being engulfed by flames...
Aemelia sighed deeply and quickly tore her black eyes away to focus on the hooded attendant in front of the Pontiac, who was furiously waving her into a space to her right. She raised her fingers from the steering wheel slightly to signify her thanks and smoothly swerved into the space, glaring her eyes when she finally stopped short of scraping the car’s bumper against the back of a rather intimidating modified hearse in front of her. Now that she was parked, she shut off the engine and glanced to both of her sides, taking note of the vehicles that surrounded her... and strangely the stripped-down sight of a hot-rod and a small black workman’s van seemed to set her teeth on edge. She drew her hands away from the steering wheel and swiftly averted her gaze to her lap, knitting her eyebrows together in discomfort.
She suddenly wished that she hadn’t pushed for Copia to leave her on her own, like the presence of the cars beside her had reminded her of something unsettling. She sat there for a few seconds and eventually, after steadying her breaths, cautiously opened her door, ensuring that she was careful so that it didn’t scrape against the nearby work van. The black vehicle seemed so normal in comparison to everything else that surrounded her, but that fact only seemed to heighten her feeling of anxiety. She slipped from her seat and once she was stood on her feet, slammed the door back in place before rounding the side of the car in order to hover by the tail-gate. With the car keys tightly in a pallid fist, she wrestled with her sleeves for a bit before she managed to pull her blazer from her person – she’d suddenly decided that the desert heat was already too much for her - and she draped it over her shoulder, hurriedly prising up the tail-gate like she was under a strict time frame.
She dumped her jacket into the dim recesses of the trunk and unusually, her hand immediately latched onto something she’d had in mind... a black leather belt that had ridged slots embedded into it, which were filled with all sorts of miniature vials, sprigs of useful ingredients, bottled catalysts, deterrents and small unsuspecting weapons. After seeing the variety of strange – and supernaturally enhanced – vehicles, she couldn’t take any risks on that particular night. She slid her alchemist’s belt through the loops of her slim black trousers - grateful that the rounded ridges were covered in a thin layer of black leather so that the contents remained hidden – and once she secured it in place by tightly twisting a silver clasp in the middle, she huffed out a deep breath and reached up towards the tail-gate. She violently slammed it down and smoothed out her waistcoat and centred her tie, worriedly flicking her dark eyes to the black van beside her once she slotted the keys into the trunk in order to lock the vehicle.
Once locked, she slid the keys into her waistcoat and dug around for her smart phone, swivelling around to quickly wander away from the row of parked vehicles. When she finally pulled out her cell phone and peered down at the flashing screen, she furiously tapped her thumbs over it to scroll through her missed calls, oblivious to the couple of infuriated car horns that blared at her as she cut across the wide dust track, where there was still a trickling stream of growling vehicles.
When she inevitably found the number she was looking for, she pressed the call button and tilted her head, pressing the phone to her right ear. It had barely been dialling for three seconds before Copia finally picked up and she sped up her pace, unable to hide her amused smile.
“Ah! Miss Vial! Is... is everything ok?! You are not in danger, are you? Not hurt or bleeding or... mauled or anything?!” he exclaimed, the panic in his voice causing her to knit her eyebrows together. She stared ahead and decided to follow the direction of various groups of people that were all heading the same way, they seemingly knew exactly where they were going.
“Mauled? Why the fuck would I be mauled? I was only parking the car, you know that.” she reassured in stubborn defence, swiftly cutting through a small gap behind a row of parked vehicles.
“Yes! Yes I know! But... but eh... I... I really don’t think coming here was a good idea. I-In fact, I think we should leave right now!” he rasped in a series of strained – and panicked – whispers.
“What have you done?” she sighed out, rounding the end of stationary vehicles to tail behind the large trail of traipsing individuals.
“What?! Ehhhh... nothing, nothing! I am just... a little spooked right now, that is all!”
“By what?” she questioned, her voice stern and unimpressed. “And you already want to leave? Are you fucking joking? It's literally taken us days to get out here, I’m not turning around now. You’ve only been here five minutes and you’re already moaning.”
“We have to leave, Miss Vial.” he said in a serious, foreboding tone. “There’s... vampires walking around! Just... wandering about like they fucking own the place. They... they even smiled and showed their teethies to me! I – I can’t - ”
“Oh shut up, will you?” she scolded emptily, clutching her cell phone to her ear a little more harshly. “I dislike vampires as much as you do but I’m pretty sure there must be some sort of agreement about tonight. From all these cars I can tell this isn’t a mortal-only meet. Must have drawn up some sort of tolerance policy... or violence disclaimer.”
“Ah, shit! There are other thingies too! They are... everywhere. Wolf peoples... eh... a guy who kinda looks like a giant potato with... veeeery small eyes. Reptile dudes... whatever the guy with the big tusk-y things is, tentacle ladies, a man with a couple of chupa chups - ”
“Fuckin’ hell, chupacabras? I hope they’re on a leash.” she murmured, glaring her black eyes.
“ - yeeeesh, there’s a shit ton of naked peoples too. Eh... not that I wanted to look! They were just sagging so it was kinda... hard to miss, you know? And there are a looooot of witches here too... shit... they’re all... looking right at me. What the shit? That’s a little... creepy.”
“I’m guessing the witches like the sight of you, all being considered.”
“W-What?! What do you mean?!” he shrieked, the nervous injection in his voice obvious to her.
“Nothing.” she grumbled with a deep sigh. “Just... calm down. I’m almost at the entrance now so we can meet up somewhere nearby and - ”
“I’m not staying here, Aemelia!” he furiously whispered, his voice rasping with anxiousness.
“If you’d bothered to read the small print on your invite before we got here, I would fucking agree with you.”
“You know that I... left my reading glasses at home.” he said defensively in a small, timid voice. She rolled her eyes and sighed in defeat.
“Well, either way, we’re here now. We just have to deal with it. And don’t forget that you’re expected to give a speech or whatever. You can’t let everyone down.”
“Hm... I guess... you are right about that.” he reluctantly agreed, voice peaking now that he actually considered her words. “It’s something I definitely can’t get out of. Shit... you know what, forget what I said, ok? We’ll stay for a little longer, I was probably just – ahem - overreacting. Eh... where... where would you like to meet? I don’t want to be alone for much longer... not with these vampires lurking around, you know? They got me treading very lightly.”
Striding beneath an intricately carved - and towering - wooden archway that was lit with a concerning amount of crackling flames, Aemelia realised that she must have finally entered the official entrance to the event, oblivious to the loud chatters of excitement that were hopping from person to person. She briefly took the phone away from her ear and paused, trailing her black irises over the alarming flames that were vividly burning away above her. And then once she heard Copia’s worried “Hello?!” rasping from her cell phone, she stood on her tip-toes to peer over the heads of the diverse, obscurely clothed crowd in front of her. She squinted her eyes, searching for something that stuck out amongst the sea of robed superhumans, and thankfully, something certainly did. A thick wicker effigy torch reached up to the very centre of the horizon like a distorted wooden limb, formed out of an impressive amount of twisted branches, ambiguous bones and gory offerings... Miss Vial decided to swiftly overlook the latter for the time being.
“You see that big... effigy thing?” she quietly asked, pressing her phone to her right ear.
“Ah yes! You mean... the one with all of the flayed skins on it?”
“Yeah... the Leatherface looking thing. I’ll meet you there.”
“Ehhhh! Wait! I don’t know if that’s such a - ”
She abruptly took her phone away from her ear and swiped the screen to end the call. Then she slid it into the pockets of her waistcoat, oblivious to the panicked stares that were sent her way when she picked up her pace, brushing shoulders – or in some tall beings’ cases, ankles – with various groups of festival guests. Any other time she would have felt uncomfortable and overwhelmed with the amount of beings surrounding her, but her attention was drawn elsewhere.
The festival was much larger than she had anticipated, and she almost forgot that she was wandering over a desert plain because it was that busy with people. It was lit by the strange, subtle crimson rays from the oversized moon above which was assisted by intermittently spaced fire lanterns, giving the place a carnal atmosphere. Make-shift tents of all sorts of shapes and sizes had been crudely assembled out of tattered material, old carpets or... anything else the organisers had managed to find and they were dotted amongst the sea of guests, and they housed all sorts of things, from carnival games and body painting to private rituals and tarot readings. To the left, was a cluster of weathered fairground rides and the sight of their flashing lights was glaring to Miss Vial... she could even hear the muffled, indistinct sound of blaring death metal wafting from its general direction. Deciding not to contemplate the fairground’s existence too much, she turned her head to face the right and her dark eyes narrowed in suspicion. Unlike the boisterous sounds to her left, the right looked peaceful. Mortal and immortals formed orderly queues outside modest vans and stalls – which were serving all kinds of different refreshments - clutching various weird and wonderful items to their chests or beneath their arms. Miss Vial presumed that they would likely exchange their items for some freshly made food, seeing as most creatures didn’t tend to see value in mankind’s currency of money. Her eyes reluctantly trailed from the calm and orderly food stalls and rested on vast – and seemingly never ending – aisles of winding shopping stalls. She narrowed her eyes, hoping to distinguish what was on offer, but of course, she was too far away and decided that they would definitely have a wander around there later... if she managed to get her hands on a couple of sought-after ingredients to take back home to the Ministry’s apothecary, she’d be content.
Eventually, she tore her eyes away to focus on her destination. The wicker effigy seemed to mark the heart of the festival due to how many guests lingered beneath its tall, searing presence and the more she approached, the more her eyes widened. The event seemed to stretch on for miles behind it and she was slightly curious once her gaze caught sight of a couple of crinkling awnings that sheltered an extensive stage and lighting rig. Presumably some kind of performance was expected and she wondered whether it had something to do with the speech Copia was expected to deliver... because if it did, she’d severely underestimated how important the event was, especially considering the sheer scope of the place, not to mention the diversity of the crowd.
Anxiously averting her stare, she hurried her pace to veer around a couple of dawdling guests, focusing on the wide hut-like base of the flickering effigy. She trailed her eyes over the beings that surrounded it, searching over the mass of cloaked figures, gossiping ghosts and unclassifiable apparitions... until something vividly white grabbed her attention.
Copia’s white suit and painted face was blindingly obvious amongst the dreary robes and subtly bare beings and she couldn’t resist wearing a small smile of amusement. Now that she’d spotted him, she walked more confidently, black eyes locking onto his blatant presence. He had his back to her and was nervously flicking his mismatched eyes over the clumps of guests, shifting from foot to foot to try and distract himself from his nervousness. Eventually, the people around her thinned out and she finally had a clear path to swiftly approach him. To her surprise, he must have sensed movement for when she was only a few steps away from him, he abruptly turned around. Before she could take the last few steps towards him, he darted towards her with wide, grateful eyes, flinging his arms up into the air.
She glared her black eyes when he threw his arms around her to trap her in a tight, grounding embrace. She found it strange considering they’d only been apart for a short amount of time... but it was clear that he was relieved to know that she was safe and sound, after all, their fellow guests were suspiciously cloaked, perpetually salivating and menacing, unclassifiable creatures. He quietly held her close to him for a good ten seconds before he reluctantly backed away. Despite him withdrawing from her, his leather fingertips lingered on her by stroking over the rumples of her folded shirt sleeves, until eventually, he gently clutched onto the tender skin of her tattooed forearms.
“I’m really glad you’re ok.” he breathed, backing away from her so that their gazes could meet. She winced in confusion and returned his stare, her eyelashes fluttering slightly when the tip of his nose gently brushed against hers... he’d cautiously leaned forwards again. She could feel the texture of his face paint now that it was starting to smudge onto her nose’s skin and she inhaled sharply, unsure how she was supposed to react. The gloves around her forearms gently creaked when he grasped her more firmly, and he parted his mouth, carefully angling his head to the side. He allowed his eyes to close, the black paint of his eyelids obscuring the affection in his mismatched irises as he slowly lowered his head to graze his lips against hers...
But before he could finally make his move, she jolted backwards and abruptly twisted her torso to peer in the direction of the trade stalls. She knew - from how tight he had hold of her forearms - that he was immensely disappointed she had denied his kiss, but she didn’t care. She wanted to head off and explore the rows of occult traders. She suddenly stepped backwards in order to do just that, but he clutched her arms even firmer and she hissed in slight discomfort, wincing in annoyance when she reluctantly turned her head back to face him.
“What? Am I not allowed to have a look around?” she snapped, hastily snatching her arms away from him to rub the tender skin of her tattooed arms. He narrowed his eyes at her actions but adoration still gleamed in them when he shrugged in reply.
“Sure, sure, we could... do that. Or... we could always - ”
She knew that flippant tone too well.
“What have you done?” she curtly cut in, black eyes hardening as her jaw set in irritation. She searched his sudden expression of innocence for an answer, but all she could find was the hint of nervousness.
“What?! Nothing! I have done nothing.” he insisted, gesturing his gloved hands over-dramatically.
“Yeah, pull the other one, would you?”
“Shit... ok, ok! I may have... kinda... placed a bet.” he admitted in a quiet peaking voice, his gaze swiftly trailing to the dusty ground beneath his winkle-pickers.
“A bet? What do you mean you’ve placed a bet?” she whispered furiously, her features bewildered when her hands balled into frustrated fists.
“Over by the fairground there’s... a little competition going down and ahm... I figured I’d try doubling my money by... saying you’d win.” he quietly confessed, keeping his head low when he flicked up his amused eyes to rest them on her pallid face.
“Competition? Me?! How would I - what are you on about?” she asked in shrill disbelief, tightly wrapping her arms around herself for comfort. “It better not be something weird... well it must be. You only have to look at this bloody place. Fuck’s sake... why? I mean... I should be flattered that you’d think I’d win something, I s’pose. But... fuckin’ hell, we’ve only just got here and you already expect me to do something for you? Do you really have to double your money? Can’t I just explore this place in peace without having to do something for five minutes?!”
“I... am afraid not.” he sighed, raising his brows like there was nothing he could do. “The contest starts in... ehhhh... fifteen minutes. But then again, that is... probably a looot less now.”
“Fuck me, what the hell have you roped me into? What do I have to do? Stack cups? Stake some hissing bellends? I don’t have to... eat anything, do I?”
“It’s – ahem – a... a potion mixing contest.” he said in a small voice, finally raising his head so that he could gaze at her more directly, the hope in his eyes plain as day.
“Oh.”
“I... know how good you are at your craft so... I figured that you should show that to every fucker here, you know? You could put them in their place and win a prize, ah?” he explained with a wink, wearing an encouraging smirk when he leaned forwards to playfully nudge her side with an elbow.
“Well, that sounds very tempting, but I don’t really care for prizes, or recognition for that matter... so if I did win, you’d end up with whatever the prize is. But I’m fairly sure you planned on that happening... ” she snapped darkly, her expression turning stern when she emptily returned his gaze.
“Heh, heh... no, no! I didn’t want anything out of it, Miss Vial.” he defended, his expression of amusement really not helping his case. “I just... happened to be passing and when I found out about it... I was instantly reminded of you and thought... why not enter? You could easily win that shit.”
She was immensely irritated that he’d made yet another decision for her. And for that reason, she was reluctant to accept the situation and even more reluctant to perform in some ridiculous alchemy contest... but once she truly studied the mesmerizing, hopeful gleam in his amused, conflicting irises, her stubborn eyes softened and suddenly, she found it impossible to refuse him.
18 : Faith and the Anomaly
As soon as they arrived at the location of the contest, Miss Vial got the feeling there was something shady about the whole thing. With Copia closely walking by her side, they approached the outskirts of a diverse, muddled crowd that were huddled beneath the kaleidoscopic glare of the fairground, the rumbles of its precarious rides and punching death metal conveniently obscuring the murmurs of the contest’s audience. Aemelia glanced upwards to check the ominous crimson that clutched at the shadowy clouds and frowned when a thick metal rollercoaster frame prevented her from doing so. It shrouded the moonlit sky and she knew that it was no coincidence... she could already tell that the competition was intended to be a secretive event. And top of that, it was being held far away from the bustle of the festival, which implied that it was inherently illicit.
Trailing towards the huddle of spectators with her head still tilted back to scan the towering rollercoaster above them, Aemelia furrowed her brow and opened her mouth to question Copia about what they were about to head into... but he cut her decision short by abruptly snatching hold of her right hand to tug her alongside him. His pace quickened now that he had hold of her and she centred her head and narrowed her eyes at him, though she reluctantly allowed him to drag her into the diverse, dubious crowd. Her frown deepened as his grip on her hand tightened, but from the concerning looking individuals they brushed by, it was clear that he wanted to ensure she stayed close to him.
Allowing – but ignoring – his persistent yanking, she slowly gazed over the heads and shoulders of the audience, walking on the very tips of her black oxfords to make sure that she could get a good look at what everyone else was facing. She only managed to get a slight glimpse due to Copia’s swift, insistent actions but thankfully it had been enough.
The audience swarmed up to the edges of a make-shift stage, which was formed out of a couple of nailed boards that had been precariously perched on top of a curved array of creaking metal frames. It was obvious, even from afar, that it had been assembled in a panic and it was likely even quicker to dismantle... Aemelia thought that fact only confirmed her assumption of the contest being somewhat illegal and she huffed, rolling her eyes in slight amusement. Copia continued to pull her through the crowd, his actions smooth and confident as he snaked them around clusters of creatures and through small gaps in the audience, determined to reach a destination he’d clearly had on his mind ever since they’d arrived at such a place.
Miss Vial scowled at how strangely silent he was but simply followed the direction he was facing, trailing her curious eyes towards what appeared to be a check-in desk . It was shaded by a thick black canopy and located to the right of the stage, a large amount of suspicious-looking figures that adorned hooded cloaks and wide-brim fedoras surrounding it from all angles. Copia had been anxious to leave the festival not ten minutes ago, yet there he was, eagerly dragging her, cutting through the conniving underbelly of supernatural criminals and outcasts... utterly content and undeniably confident. She had to admit the man did baffle her sometimes, but she supposed he felt right at home being surrounded by a huddle of shady sinners.
Now that she knew their heading, Aemelia turned her head to glance towards the main stage again, hopping onto her tiptoes to try and see if she could spot anything else before Copia yanked her further away. Luckily, she managed to get a far better look this time and narrowed her eyes in contemplation. Basic alchemy stations intermittently lined the centre of the stage and every one – aside from one station – had a figure loitering behind it. Suddenly, Aemelia got the feeling that everyone was waiting for her to arrive and she tore her eyes away, refraining from letting out an amused snort. If they’d planned on winning, she figured it would have been better to start without her.
Soon, it wasn’t long before Copia steered them to a halt. They loitered behind a couple of cloaked figures who were currently busy at the shaded stand, exchanging some unusual-looking currency with a smiling woman who was contentedly sat on the opposite side. Copia sighed and reluctantly let go of Aemelia’s hand, narrowing his mismatched eyes at the couple of people that were being served in front of them. As he continued to silently scold them with his conflicting irises, Aemelia hugged her arms around herself and found that her gaze was immediately attracted to a chalk board that was perched over the cramped surface of the desk. The smudged writing and terrible drawings were incredibly messy but she squinted her eyes and just managed to make out something that resembled a disclaimer.
No witches or warlocks permitted. All contestants must be mortal and have a lifespan of less than one hundred years. Comply or suffer the consequences.
“Fuckin’ hell, that’s ominous. It’s a good job I’m not nearing a century.” Aemelia grumbled, flicking her glaring eyes away from the messy chalk board to glance at Copia, who was still oddly quiet. “You feeling alright? You haven’t said a word in ages.”
“I’m fine, Miss Vial.” he murmured with a serious expression, briefly turning his head to casually glance at her. “I am just getting focused... I have a lot of money riding on this. Not that... I think you will lose, I have a loooot of faith in you but... you never know.”
“You’re taking this betting lark quite seriously, aren’t you?” she asked, her mouth wavering as she fought off an amused smile.
“Of course, of course...” he mumbled beneath his breath, swiftly turning his head as soon as he detected the slightest bit of movement from the people in front of them. “... now, be quiet and let me handle this, ok?”
She frowned and opened her mouth to snap at him but he’d already gently taken hold of her hand again. He centred his head to focus on the desk ahead and jetted them into the free space in front of them as soon as it had become available. He slowly released her from his grip when he cleared his throat and greeted the woman behind the desk, who appeared to be some sort of unsuspecting succubus. Aemelia could tell she was from how the woman’s body language abruptly changed at the sound of Copia’s voice, and considering the woman’s vermilion complexion and distinctive fashion sense – she was confidently wearing rather risqué, lingerie-like black clothing amongst the mass of heavily shrouded guests - showed that she was certainly no ordinary woman.
Deciding that the underlying flirtation was already far too present in the air between Copia and the salacious succubus – it was making her feel slightly nauseous - Aemelia turned her head away from the check-in stand to peer at the stage to her left. Now that she was closer, she could see things far better now and her curiosity peaked even more. Aemelia Vial wasn’t a particularly competitive person - unless her rival was Copia, it seemed - but she always liked to know what she was up against. Her black irises scoured over the various figures that were patiently lurking behind each tidy work station and she hummed in contemplation, narrowing her eyes in interest.
The first contestant that caught her eye was located on the far left, and appeared to be completely stoic. He was stood stiffly and appeared to be some sort of shaman due to the abundance of skeletal accessories and the comfortably loose garment he wore. It was formed out of sewn leather pieces and patches of frayed fabric and complemented his matted ashen hair rather well, which happened to be impressively long and choppily finished by his waist. From how much his thin painted lips pursed together, he was silently letting everyone know that he refused to utter a word to anyone. There was something unnerving about him and Aemelia’s eyes swiftly moved onto the next figure before she studied him too much.
The next contestant was completely unassuming. She couldn’t have been much older than thirty and her umber skin was flawless. Her hair was pulled back into plaited dreadlocks and she wore a plain black pinafore, like she’d only just finished a shift at a coffee shop. Aemelia thought she looked rather normal compared to the rest of the line-up, but she found that often meant they were far more talented alchemists.
In the dead centre of the stage was another contestant, and he was the most colourful out of the five. He appeared to be the oldest of the lot, given the deep set lines that covered the majority of his pink skin. His multicoloured hair was minimal but was shaped into thin curved spikes on top of his head, and he proudly adorned a large number of spiked studs that clutched at the skin of his face. The man reminded Aemelia of a punk hedgehog and she tilted her head slightly, squinting her eyes to see if she could make out some of the band patches that were neatly sewn into the thick black material of his denim vest.
Second from the right was another woman. Her skin was unbelievably pale and the indigo shade of her hair was intriguing. Even though she was stood incredibly still, her hair seemed to sway like she was underwater and every so often, the glints of her eyes would seem to glow for the briefest millisecond. Aemelia thought the woman was fascinating but she figured the strange phenomenon was probably just a trick of the light, given that there was a severe lack of the latter.
To the very right of the stage, however, was a dishevelled anomaly. The man trembled uncontrollably and his skin was blanched, presumably due to fear. Thick stubble coated his cheeks and thick grey rings surrounded his bloodshot blue eyes. His bleach blonde hair was short at the sides but the long growth in the very middle of his forehead had spiralled into chaotic twists. It was clear to Aemelia – from his nervous demeanour and the bloodstained collar of his crumpled white shirt – that he shouldn’t have been there. He looked like he’d just stumbled upon the festival at random, and from how much the audience seemed to frighten him, he’d probably never seen a supernatural being in his life, let alone a whole audience of them.
Reluctantly trailing her eyes from the terrified man, her eyes rested on the sixth contestant... who wasn’t present at all. There was a vacant space that lurked behind the last alchemy station and Aemelia knitted her eyebrows together in realisation... at least her presence was expected, she supposed.
When Aemelia finally tore her attention away from the stage to tune back into the conversation between Copia and the check-in succubus, she frowned. He was only just stating Aemelia’s name to the amorous woman and she was bewildered because they must have been chatting about something else while she’d been willingly distracted. Aemelia refrained from cringing when the succubus smiled warmly and cupped a vermilion hand around her glossy black lips.
“Uh, could you say that again, honey? I didn’t quite hear you.” the woman asked with a subtle wink, biting her jagged teeth into her thick bottom lip. To Aemelia’s surprise, Copia proudly draped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her in close to his side. Her dark eyes widened into a glare due to his actions and he pointed a confident leather-clad finger towards her chin with a crumpled smile.
“Aemelia Vial. I entered her in the contest a little earlier. You do not... remember me from before?” he questioned, squinting at the infernal woman like she was suddenly annoying him.
“Oh no, I certainly remember you, sugar!” the succubus exclaimed with a throaty laugh, the shadowy slits of her snake-like eyes suddenly shining with amusement. “I just gotta check a couple things, could you spell that name out for me? I’ll see if she’s on the list. Your girl’s a mortal, right?”
“Eh... yes, yes!” he hastily replied, trying his best to subdue his nervousness. “She definitely has a pulse, she is not one of those... immortal-y types, you know? She could literally die at any moment.”
“Jesus fucking Christ, thanks for the reminder. Twat.” Aemelia breathed dangerously, hastily wriggling herself away from his arm... which briefly conjured a quiet titter out of the succubus, who was patiently waiting for Copia to continue.
“It is... E - M - E - L - I – A... then... V - I - L – E... I think.” he confidently spoke, gesturing a leather glove along with his voice.
An apathetic huff of disappointment came from beside him and he instantly turned his head to face Aemelia. His eyes widened into saucers when she simply seared her charcoal eyes into him... it was clear that what he’d just said had annoyed her immensely. She was surprised that he was still misspelling her name after all the time they’d spent together, but she was far too irritated to correct him now, and thankfully, the succubus spoke again before she had time to verbally scold him.
“Hm... I’m not seeing anything here, you sure you entered her under that name?” the woman questioned, prompting Copia to swiftly turn and face her again.
“Yes, yes! I am certain!” he anxiously squeaked, swallowing thickly now that he could feel Miss Vial’s intense, suspicious gaze upon him. “I take it that... it will be no problem entering her... again? It is soooo last minute...”
“Course not, sugar. It’s no problem at all, we’re grateful for another contestant, we were kinda running low on them anyways. So long as I got her name to announce, there’s no issues at all.” the succubus explained, scribbling a pen over a rather sad-looking notepad that already had an inky mess of unusual symbols tainting its paper. “Before I let your lady go and set up... you got time for a quick selfie? I’m a huge fan of your work.”
“Oh... heh heh, sure, sure!”
Aemelia practically grimaced when the succubus slipped out a smart phone from the depths of her scantily covered cleavage and Copia eagerly stepped forwards to pose for the camera. Miss Vial huffed and lowered her arms to cross them in front of her chest. She appeared indifferent while Copia appeased his fan but her annoyance was threatening to simmer to the surface of her pallid features. She couldn’t believe that he hadn’t told her the whole truth... her name hadn’t even been on the list yet she still had to participate in the competition. If she’d had it her way, she would have preferred to abandon the event, but she couldn’t let Copia down now. Luckily, she was fairly confident in her craft, so she decided to allow his manipulative scheme to go ahead... just this once.
Eventually, Copia turned back to her and Aemelia let out a heavy sigh when the succubus draped a hand towards the right of the stage, silently allowing her to occupy the nearest work station. She shrugged but nodded in understanding and took a step away from the admin desk, but before she could go any further, Copia side-stepped in front of her and trapped her in a tight, grounding hug. Her entire body stiffened and she set her jaw when her chin grazed his right shoulder.
“I wish you aaaall the luck, Miss Vial...” he murmured, his smile completely audible in his tone. “... not that you will need it. I am not going anywhere, ok? I will be rooting for you on the front row, just keep calm and show them what you got.”
She scowled and wriggled her shoulders slightly, silently telling him that he’d hugged her for long enough, but he blatantly ignored her and squeezed his arms around her a little tighter.
“You can let go now.” she grumbled and he unleashed a reluctant sigh, slowly withdrawing his arms from her. As soon as she was free of his grasp, she started to step towards the stage and he matched her actions for a moment. She abruptly halted due to his strange behaviour and just as she turned her head to face him, he confidently dipped his head down and pressed a lingering kiss to her left cheek. Her expression of annoyance was quickly replaced with shock, and he smoothly side-stepped away from her, sending her one last wink before calmly slipping into the rest of the crowd. She decided to ignore his brazen action and she quickly swivelled around, heading towards the stage in a defiant manner, hoping that no one noticed the pink that was heating up her cheeks... though she was unaware that most would be drawn to her cheeks for a whole other reason.
She clenched her teeth together and swiftly hopped up a few steps until she was finally stood on top of the precarious stage. She slowed her strides a little now that her gaze was settled on her allocated alchemy station and she took her time getting there, sliding a hand into her waistcoat to clutch onto a fresh cigarette. She was sure that a smoke would help her focus on her upcoming task... which was still a mystery to her.
While Aemelia settled in behind the nearest alchemy station and calmly lit her cigarette, Copia had managed to snake his way to the front of the curving audience. Luckily, most people had gladly moved for him so it hadn’t taken him long to reach his desired spot, which happened to be in the dead centre of the stage so that he had a decent view. He cleared his throat and dusted off the front of his suit jacket in a cool manner, glancing over each of his shoulders to study his fellow audience. At first, there was nothing remarkable about anyone, considering that most were obscured by heavy hooded cloaks, wide-brim hats or dark clothing. But soon, the flash of something light grey caught his attention.
His mismatched eyes narrowed in suspicion as he assessed the source of the stark colour, and it appeared to be the expensive material of two pristine – and identical – suits that were cleanly being worn by two corporate-looking men. They were loitering a little further down the front row and stuck out more than Copia did, given how ordinary they looked. He scowled at them, admiring the cut of their grey suits, but it was clear to him that it appeared to be some sort of uniform, rather than a confident fashion statement. The more he looked, the more he realised that his assumption was probably correct. A thin lanyard hung from their necks and he tilted his head to see if he could spot any logos or labels to help him understand who the men were… but sadly, he was too far away to notice any helpful details. Either way, he didn’t feel comfortable with their presence, or the fact they were so unremarkable that they could have simply been a couple of high school teachers.
He eventually turned his head away but occasionally sent a glance their way, trusting the suspicious feeling in his stomach. He was surrounded by all sorts of weird and shady beings, but for some reason, the pair of sharply dressed men was what truly unsettled him. Naturally, he decided that he would keep a quiet eye on them until the contest was over, there was no way they were a couple of ordinary mortals...
He casually rested his arms over the very edge of the stage and trailed his eyes away from the corporate duo to rest them on Miss Vial, and the sight of her settled his discomfort immediately. The corners of his black lips curled upwards and he let out a breathy chuckle at the swirls of smoke coming from the cigarette she’d perched between her lips. Her look of concentration now that she was familiarising herself with the brief that was draped over the surface of the work station, caused his eyes to gleam wisely, and the more he stared, the more his smile became a subtle smirk. It was clear that he had utmost faith in her abilities.
However, his eyes were soon drawn away from her, and he hummed in interest when the succubus confidently sauntered onto the stage, microphone in her clawed hand. He was silently surprised when the crowd finally quietened down and her rich voice started to boom through speakers that were far too loud, in his opinion. He winced as the woman strode to the bit of stage that was directly in front of him and he sighed in annoyance, swiftly taking his arms away from the edge of the stage to idly let them hang by his sides. Her voice was so loud that he could hardly hear a word, but from the roar of the audience behind him, he glared in realisation... and immediately felt terrible that he’d put Miss Vial up to such a contest. She’d had barely any time to study the brief which wasn’t fair at all...
The succubus continued to yell down the microphone and dramatically wandered over to the very left of the stage... which helped Copia hear her far more clearly, thankfully. The crowd erupted into applause around him as she began to introduce the first contestant – which happened to be the silent shaman – and Copia tried to act as casual as possible, though he couldn’t hide the bewilderment on his painted face.
While the audience continued to excitedly roar as the succubus revelled in her announcements, Miss Vial had only just finished reading the vague brief she’d been given. From the ingredients on the page in front of her, it was clear that she was supposed to concoct the potent – and illegal - potion ember, but making such a substance was difficult enough with considerable planning, so it was rather unlikely that the potion would end up being any good if it was an after-thought... but she supposed she would have to give it a shot, after all, she had a feeling that everyone had the same brief. Ignoring the crackling speakers to her left, she leaned herself over the stone surface of the alchemy station, shooting a casual glance to the contestant that was next to her. The trembling man was still trembling and his bloodied hands were desperately clutching at the creased material of his white shirt, which idly hung over a tight pair of cuffed chinos. She tilted her head inquisitively and leaned to the right, black eyes shining with concern.
“You're not meant to be here, are you?” she asked, raising her voice to ensure that she caught the anxious man’s attention. He instantly spun around to face her, bloodshot eyes wide with astonishment.
“N-No, I’m not. Y-You're from London too?” he murmured, seemingly amazed that he was hearing such a familiar accent. She shuffled towards the very edge of her station to ensure she could hear him better, considering that the noise of the crowd was growing in volume now that the succubus was making her way down the line of contestants.
“Yep, and considering you’re shitting out sweat balls, I'm guessing a bit of help wouldn't go amiss?” Aemelia questioned, briefly squinting her eyes at the light spattering of blood that coated his unkempt collar.
“Y-Yeah, I'd appreciate it. I don't have a clue what I'm doing.”
“What's your name?” she calmly inquired, intensely scouring his exhausted features, suspecting that he was very much hungover from the distinct hesitation in his stark blue irises.
“S-Steve.” he hastily replied, running a soiled hand through his messy strands of bleach blonde hair.
“Alright, Steve. The first thing you're going to do is light your Bunsen burner and then place the end of that metal spatula over the flame until it's nice and hot. You can do that, right?” she confidently said, trailing her eyes over the surface of his work station, which luckily seemed to have the same kind of apparatus that hers also had.
“Y-Yeah, I think I can manage that.” Steve nervously muttered, glaring down at the array of equipment in front of him... from his alarmed expression, it was clear that everything was foreign to him.
“Good. I'll give you some pointers once we actually begin, but for now just keep calm, well... as much as you can manage. Whereabouts you from?” she asked softly, hoping that a bit of small talk would take his mind off the situation for a moment.
“Croydon.”
“I bet this makes a change from Croydon.” she quipped with an amused snort, briefly taking her cigarette from her mouth to spew out a tumbling cloud of smoke.
“I-It certainly does.” he squeaked, erratically sending a glance towards the rows of excitable spectators.
“How did you even get here?” Aemelia pressed, slotting her cigarette between her lips when he reluctantly tore his eyes away from the crowd to settle them on her.
“I-I was supposed to be getting married in Vegas tomorrow.” he hastily explained, wincing like it pained him to say such a thing. “Tonight was my stag do and my mates thought it'd be a laugh to dump me in the middle of nowhere. They took my phone, money, passport... the lot.”
“They sound like a bunch of pricks to me.” she snapped in a smoky exhale, shaking her head in disapproval. “You got a way of getting back to your hotel?”
“Not really. I'm just going with the flow for the time being. I'd rather not get killed.”
“Killed? Why would you be killed?” she questioned in a fierce whisper, her dark eyes widening with concern... was there a consequence for the losing participants? Or was he just implying that the showrunners had threatened him into participating? Either way, she suddenly had an unpleasant feeling of foreboding clutching to her insides.
“You... you have something on your face, by the way.” Steve piped up again, knitting his eyebrows due to how intensely she was scowling at him.
“What?!”
“Just there... o-on your cheek.” he added, raising a trembling hand to gesture towards her left cheek. She gasped in realisation and glared at him in horror, turning away from him to abruptly brush the heel of a hand against her cheek’s pallid skin. She desperately tried to wipe away the distinctive black smudge that Copia’s mouth had left and refrained from allowing the blush to reach her face... but of course, she couldn’t quite manage the latter.
While she persisted to wipe at her cheek, the confident succubus had finally reached the station next to her and Steve looked like he was about to melt into an anxious puddle of his own sweat. But once she assuredly announced his name in one dramatic jab to the microphone - without any further elaboration, unlike the rest of the prior contestants - the crowd went absolutely wild, oblivious to the fact that the hungover man should never have been there, and oblivious to the fact they were only worsening his nervous demeanour...
And eventually, by the time the succubus arrived by Miss Vial’s station, Aemelia had finally wiped her face clean. Her name was announced over the speakers like it was something tremendous, and the tagline the succubus added – which must have been Copia’s idea, considering it was “Supernatural Consultant and Sexy Chaperone” – prompted a torrent of cheers and wolf whistles. Aemelia huffed and scowled towards the front row, rolling her eyes once she spotted the opal glow of Copia’s face-paint. He sent her another wink and she shook her head in disapproval, soon grateful that the attention was no longer upon her when the succubus took centre stage again. The demonic woman raised up an elegant arm, holding up a stop-watch like it was something mighty as she pushed the microphone against her mouth.
“The most potent ember wins... ready, get set... go!”
At the beep of her stop-watch the fairground’s death metal significantly raised in volume, much to some people’s dismay, but it was clear that it was present to drown out the large accumulation of simmers and sizzles that would soon be coming from each alchemy station. The crowd excitedly roared and most of the contestants rushed into a panic, flinging about their equipment like it was some sort of race. Steve cautiously carried out exactly what Miss Vial had told him to do, whereas she focused on finishing her cigarette. She didn’t care that she was being timed now that she knew it was all about the potion’s potency.
It was quite some time before she actually started to set her equipment out, because she seemed more interested in giving Steve direct instructions for the first ten minutes. The death metal was the perfect distraction while each alchemist worked their station and soon Bunsen burner flames blazed, pots clattered and substances crackled. The crowd enthusiastically observed the stage like they were watching an exciting adrenaline-fueled sport, cheering, chattering or head-banging... it was no surprise to Copia, who was lightly nodding his head and tapping a foot over the dusty ground. Everyone was in high spirits because they all thought they were in with a chance of winning some money, but knowing Miss Vial’s talent, he was quietly confident that their loud celebrations were far too optimistic.
Surrounded by rowdy, excitable people, he decided to trail his eyes away from the stage for a moment, quietly studying the men in grey suits. They were just as calm as he was, and to his dismay, they appeared to have their gazes set on the right side of the stage, where Steve and Miss Vial were located. Their brazen interest unsettled him immensely and he gritted his teeth together, searing his mismatched eyes into them. He didn’t know who the hell they were, but he wished they would stop staring at Aemelia so intensely...
It didn’t take long for the two men to notice the distinctive eyes of Copia in their peripheral vision and they simply turned their heads to face him in unison, their expressions calmly indifferent. He held their inquisitive stares for a little while, even with all of the movement of the audience around them, and eventually, he grew incredibly bored of their attempt at intimidation and raised a gloved hand up to blatantly show them his middle finger. To his surprise, the two men shrugged off his gesture and he reluctantly lowered his hand, narrowing his eyes when they started to slowly slip backwards through the crowd, their heads glancing over their shoulders every so often like they were surveying the crowd for something, or someone.
Copia was intrigued by their behaviour and was almost tempted to follow them, but at the uncomfortable and abrupt sound of thunderous foot-slaps... he quickly decided against it. His eyes widened in horror as the sea of people swiftly parted and the grey suits were no longer the subject of his attention, for two towering canines – that looked somewhat infernal – bounded towards the centre of the stage where he was located. For large creatures the hounds were agile and he had to dash to his left to ensure they didn’t run him over.
The contestants continued to work, regardless of the alarming presence of the hounds, and the audience erupted into thrilled gasps and whispers when they violently launched at the pallid, indigo-haired woman beside Steve. Their gnarled teeth sunk into her limbs and Copia glared in astonishment when they dragged her to the ground and started to maul her behind her alchemy station. Thankfully, the horrific event was obscured by the work station, but the sounds of her pained wails and the tearing of her flesh was enough to build a picture for everyone in the audience.
Steve froze and made the mistake of glancing towards the scene and he immediately spun away in disgust, cupping a hand over his mouth like he was about to vomit. Aemelia had finally started to boil her first lot of reagents – unlike the others, who were well on their way to the fourth stage of concoction – and she sent a glance Steve’s way, shaking her head in disappointment.
“I s’pose that’s what you get if you lie.” she muttered in realisation, unbothered that a woman was still being mauled on the other side of him. “She’s immortal, Steve. She’ll heal, and hopefully... she’ll think twice about lying again. At least they weren’t bullshitting when they said there’d be consequences. But I certainly didn’t expect... those.”
It was twenty minutes after the hounds gladly dragged the indigo-haired woman’s body away from the scene before the succubus finally clicked her stop-watch. The death metal finally lowered to a more tolerable volume and most of the contestants sighed with relief. After a contest filled with heavy concentration, the tearing of flesh and muttered expletives, it had finally come to its conclusion, and from the energetic applause of the crowd, it had been the moment most had been waiting for.
Filled vials of ember – which were vastly different shades of red – rested over the surfaces of five stations... even Steve had managed to reach an end product, which he was secretly quite proud of. The audience quickly quietened down when the succubus returned to the stage, microphone in hand. And to the crowd’s delight, she began to point people out... Aemelia crossed her arms over and frowned when Steve leaned towards her, anxiously hoping she would be able to answer his question.
“You know what’s going on?” he asked, and she let out a deep sigh.
“I’m guessing she’s picking out people to be guinea pigs. I s’pose getting someone to take this stuff is the best way to compare potency.” she explained, frowning slightly when their eyes were drawn to the final person the succubus had selected from the eager crowd... which happened to be Copia. From the grumbles and murmurs his glaring white presence seemed to cause as he casually sauntered towards the right side of the stage, quite a few people were unhappy with him being chosen... after all, they probably had formed questionable wagers with him.
“By the way... ” Steve murmured, forcing Aemelia to tear her eyes away from the overconfident, smirking anti-pope. “... that fella’s been staring at you loads. Didn’t say anything earlier ‘cause I didn’t want to put you off your thing.”
“What? Which guy?” she whispered, trying her best to act utterly oblivious to Copia’s presence.
“The dickhead in the white suit.”
“Oh, right... him. Yeah, he... tends to do that. I don't know why.” she confessed with a sigh, hugging her arms around herself now that the selection of taste-testers were traipsing past their stations.
“He likes you, I reckon.”
“I think that’s putting it lightly.” she replied with an amused snort, shaking her head when she swiftly side-stepped away from him.
It wasn’t long before the trail of taste-testers stopped by their allocated stations, and unfortunately, the succubus had allowed Copia to consume Aemelia’s lot of ember. Once he arrived by her work station, she could no longer focus on the contest at all because he rested his gloved hands over the surface beside her finished vial of ember, dipping his head down to squint at its vivid cherry red colouring. Even though she could hear the sound of the audience and the murmur of the succubus’ voice over the speakers, it was like his presence was dampening everything and she scowled at him.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she whispered, keeping her head low so that no one else could hear her. He raised his head a little so that he could gaze at her with his glinting eyes and his expression was undeniably wicked.
“I’m here to drink your potion. And before you say anything... it was not my choice, the red lady said so, ok?” he replied in a peaking voice. “I just have to wait for the others to drink theirs first. Considering I can’t hear any fainting... looks like we are still very much going win, heh heh.”
She narrowed her eyes at him and opened her mouth to say something, but before she could, a vermilion hand tapped his right shoulder and he sent her a confident wink before he scooped up the warm glass vial. He dramatically spun around to face the audience like it was just another performance of his, and swallowed the warm cherry-coloured liquid down in one shot. The audience was silent when he let out a choked gasp and swiftly swivelled back around, slamming the base of the empty glass vial onto the surface of the alchemy station. He clutched at the station for dear life but he began to sway and he eventually toppled towards Aemelia, who glared at him but instantly leaned forwards, seizing hold of his shoulders to stop him from falling forwards any further. He blinked a few times like he was overwhelmed with the warm waves that were washing over him and he jumped slightly when the succubus’ voice roared over the speakers again.
“Looks like we got ourselves a winner!” the woman declared with a surprised smile, prompting half of the audience to click their tongues in disbelief, whereas the other half was just confused by the succubus’ decision. It was clear to her that Copia was the most affected out of all of the taste-testers, so it was a completely fair contest in her eyes.
As the crowd continued to grumble in dismay, Copia backed away from Miss Vial for a second to wear a crooked smile and he attempted to fist pump the air with his right hand... but his arm felt too heavy and he lurched forwards, deciding to give the alchemy station a single gentle hump instead to display some form of celebration.
“I knew you could fucking do it, Cipolletta!” he cried cheerfully, toppling forwards as he slammed a gloved fist onto the work station... Aemelia grasped onto his shoulders again and swiftly hushed him, really wishing that he wasn’t causing so much of a scene.
“Shhh! You don’t have to shout. I knew it would go straight to your head, I shouldn’t have made it so fuckin’ strong...” she muttered, huffing out in irritation when he leaned further forwards so that he could rest his chin over one of her shoulders.
“No, nooooo... you did reeaaallly fucking good, baby... you made me a veeeery, veeeeeery rich Papa... heh heh heh...” he faintly whispered, his hot breath sinking into the skin of her neck. She winced at his actions but continued to hold him in place, fearing he would fall over if she let go of him.
“Congratulations...” Steve politely piped up, awkwardly side-stepping towards the two of them with a bewildered expression. He frowned at Copia like he was confused why she was holding him in such a way, and it deepened when the anti-pope closed his eyes and let out a little giggle.
“Thanks, Steve. You did well too... oh, don’t worry about him, he’s just high.” Aemelia calmly replied, peering around Copia’s painted face to stare at him sincerely. “And what you said earlier... no one is going to kill you, I don’t know where you got that idea. There’s a silent understanding at this event, humans and monsters can mix without the fear of being attacked or eaten or whatever... unless you lie about your immortality, apparently. So there’s no reason to feel so scared.”
“Really?!” he gasped, blue eyes lighting up with amazement.
“Yeah, really. If there wasn't truly an understanding then me and him would be dead already.” she assured, wincing when Copia suddenly shifted over her shoulder so that he could stare at her closely.
“Steeeeeeve? Did you say Steve? Who is this... mysteeeeerious Steve?” his delayed question came, his wide eyes giving away that he was still experiencing the prolonged hit of the ember. But it was clear from how relaxed his form was that he was enjoying her holding him very much.
“Steve isn't meant to be here.” she said much more slowly, like she was ensuring he understood every syllable. “His... friends decided to leave him at the side of the road earlier this evening. And he's stuck here now.”
“Oh, that's... that's kinda shitty.” he murmured, overdramatically wincing.
“You think we could help him get a flight home, at least?” she asked, gasping a little when he wriggled in her grasp to stubbornly settle his chin over her shoulder again.
“Noooo! No! Why... why would we do that?” he fiercely whispered, defiantly squeezing his eyes shut.
“Because he has nothing, Copia.”
Steve awkwardly observed the pair of them with a confused expression when their eyes widened in unison. Copia’s chest started vibrating from a torrent of cell phone notifications – which was likely a consequence of Miss Vial winning the contest - and he narrowed his intoxicated eyes, tearing himself away from the buzz of his phone... but it was clear that it had made him lose his train of thought.
“Ehh... who? What?”
“Steve!”
“I... don't care about this... Steve. Let's just get the fuck out of heeeeere and... maybe... go find a little tent to have a smooch in, ah? Fuuuuck, that sounds soooo fucking good right now...” he murmured, idly draping his arms around her waist. She sighed deeply and took a hand away from him to dig into her waistcoat’s pockets, and before long, she pulled out a generous clump of green notes. She reached around Copia’s back and firmly handed the money towards Steve and he frantically shook his bloodied hands, worriedly glaring back at her.
“I can't - ”
“Take it.” she insisted, pressing the wad of cash to his chest before he could refuse her again. “Get yourself to the nearest embassy for a passport then get on the first plane out of here. And... just try your best to forget about everything you've seen. The shock of witnessing the supernatural will haunt you for a while, but I promise, you'll be back to your usual carefree life after a few days in Croydon, alright? This will just seem like some weird fever dream.”
“Thank you. You're too kind.” he said sincerely, bowing his head gratefully.
“No, I'm really not.” she said with a disheartened smile, returning her hand to Copia’s shoulder. “That's kind of my problem actually. Anyway, go on, get yourself away from here before your fiancée finds you.”
He sent her a sad smile and scurried towards the right of the stage, careful to avoid the large puddle of blood that had started to pool out from the adjacent alchemy station.
“We going for smoochies now?” Copia croaked hopefully, gently tightening his arms around her waist.
“We were...” she teased in a threatening tone. “... but then you were a massive twat to Steve so smoochies are now off the table for the foreseeable future.”
“Shit...” he muttered bitterly, clicking his tongue like he was genuinely disappointed by his own behaviour.
“You're so high that you can barely stand up anyway.” she quipped, eyeing some of the other contestants, who were vacating the opposite end of the stage with dipped heads and slumped shoulders. “You can hardly kiss me if you can’t even feel your fucking face.”
“Ahhhhh, don’t worry about iiiiit, just lie me down and... climb on top of me. Then I will toooootally be able to smooch you.”
She rolled her eyes, she hoped he wouldn’t be like this for long...
And luckily for her, he wasn’t, because once the succubus kindly approached them to inform them about what they’d won... he started to sober up rather abruptly. He was thankful that he’d actually gone out of his way to place a wager earlier that evening, because the fact their prize was only a devil plushie – complete with a bright red body, black horns and forked tail – disappointed him immensely.
19 : Old Friends
Clutching the squishy devil plushie to his chest, Copia was rather smug walking beside Miss Vial. Seeing as she’d won the contest – which had actually made him a much more wealthy anti-pope, much to the dismay of the audience they’d left behind, who were all busily tapping their phone screens to send him a bank transfer – they were headed towards the vast expanse of trading stalls. It was clear from the hesitance in his conflicted irises that he was still fairly high from the ember he had consumed not so long ago, but thankfully, to Miss Vial’s relief, he appeared to be able to walk perfectly fine so the effects of the potent substance were definitely wearing off.
“Your work was veeery impressive back there, Miss Vial. That ember hit me like a fucking truck.” Copia murmured when he subtly turned his head towards her, unable to resist a breathy chuckle.
“You’re welcome.” she grumbled, her gaze resting on the festival in front of them, though she was fully aware that his intense, mismatched eyes were settled on her features.
“Heh, heh... it's so cool that you got to show off your talent, ah?” he asked in a hushed tone, the corners of his mouth turning upwards when his glinting eyes admired the lines of her face. It was clear that he was desperate to clutch onto having a conversation with her, no matter what the subject was.
“What? As opposed to the norm? The norm being you, I mean.” she replied, her dark eyes still purposely avoiding his gaze.
“Ahhhm... no, no, I did not mean that.” he responded in a higher tone, his arms hugging around the plush devil a little tighter. “I just meant that... the crowd thought your performance was effortless. I could tell that very well. It takes a lot of skill to stun an audience like that.”
“Says the rock star.” she swiftly quipped, shaking her head in amused disbelief, though she still made a point of avoiding his stare. “You're still high as a fuckin’ kite, aren't you?”
“Naaaa... I am not so high now, heh heh. I am just... thinking too much, I guess. My thoughts are all over the fucking place. Which kinda sucks 'cause I just realised that most of my skills can only be shown off in the bedroom.” he explained with a light sigh. She could tell that his disappointment was feigned and she rolled her eyes, sensing another proposition on the horizon.
“A bedroom’s audience isn’t enough for you?” she questioned sternly, keeping her tone empty to ensure that he didn’t notice her amusement. He teetered to the side and dipped his head down to hover his mouth beside her ear.
“Of course not. The more intimate, the better.” he whispered with a smirk, swiftly backing his head away from her like he had never closed in on her in the first place.
“Must be a real arse when the audience is disappointed then.”
Her blunt reply caused him to quietly chuckle and his arms relaxed, but his gloved hands still tightly held the plush devil against his chest.
“I do not get complaints often, Miss Vial, I assure you.” he purred with glinting eyes, his strides becoming more casual and confident the more he studied her face. “You could ask plenty of sisters for their opinions on my... performance, ah? But then... their reviews would be a little too inaccurate.”
“That's true. They'd probably give you a one out of ten. After all, you can't even remember their names, let alone their fucking faces.” she mumbled emptily, her eyebrows knitting in slight irritation.
“Heh, heh, yes, yes... but I did not mean this. I just... meant that none of them ever managed to experience my, eh... Saint Peter. So they didn’t get the full experience, you know?”
“Experience your what?!” she cried, abruptly halting to turn and scold him with her narrowed, bewildered eyes. He obliged her and mirrored her actions. Her gaze was intensely expectant as she awaited his answer and he swallowed thickly, raising a gloved hand away from his cuddly devil. His leather-clad fingers dramatically folded and flicked towards her chest like he was pretending to shoot her.
“My... loaded gun.”
He almost jumped out of his skin at the sound of her bursting out laughing and he glared at her, amazed that her amusement was so strong that it forced her to double over. He cleared his throat and blushed profusely, draping an arm around her shoulders while she briefly continued to lean over and wheeze out her chuckles. His gentle hold on her seemed to ease her sudden bout of laughter for her chuckling trailed off and she expelled a heavy breath of relief.
“I swear that wasn’t what you said, Copia. I’m sure that I heard you mention Saint Peter...” she teased, straightening her back in order to catch her breath.
“Hm... maybe you did.” he said in a peaking voice, his mouth wavering due to her contagious amusement. “I thought it was a good fit, no?”
She clicked her tongue and playfully nudged his chest with the backs of her knuckles and he smiled at her, slowly lowering his arm from her shoulders to clamp a tight hug around his soft toy. He was surprised but immensely pleased that a seemingly simple joke had tickled her, and of course, his small success made him suddenly far too confident with himself.
“You think it will be a good fit for you? Because... I think so.” he continued in a low murmur, his expression suddenly somewhat sincere.
Naturally, he’d pushed his luck a little too far with his brazen flirt because her amused expression immediately froze and it was swiftly wiped from her pallid features like it had never been there. She continued to gaze at him but her dark eyes were narrowed. She finally turned her head away when she let out an unimpressed huff and once she began to step away from him, she muttered an undeniably disappointed “Nevermind.” that made him obediently scamper after her. He tightly embraced his squishy devil for comfort, but he knew that if he held it any firmer he’d probably split the toy’s seams. Although Aemelia continued to calmly stride beside him when he caught up with her, he could blatantly see the discomfort on her features when he subtly tilted his head to peer at her. He suddenly hoped that his flirtatious attempt hadn’t upset her.
“You feeling ok?” he asked softly with the touch of a wise smirk, gazing at her as they continued to walk. He wasn’t certain she’d heard him at first, because for a while she allowed the clamour of the festival’s atmosphere and the subtle scratch of their footsteps to answer for her.
“Just a bit wary of them, that’s all.” she eventually murmured, hugging her arms around herself as she nodded towards something to their right. He furrowed his brow and squeezing his soft toy a little harder, he reluctantly turned his head to follow the motion of her actions.
Suddenly, her discomfort was completely understandable. For there, patrolling ahead of them, were the two robust – and lethal – hell hounds they had witnessed earlier. Even though they were on all fours, they must have been seven-foot tall. They towered over the majority of the bustling crowd, but naturally, most of the audience parted to allow them to wander through without a fuss, the dusty ground searing beneath their thick padded paws. Their bodies were rather unpleasant to look at, considering they were mostly formed out of taut, greying flesh and reliable, sturdy bone. Their curved, ebony claws hooked into the sandy ground and the unmistakable grazing sound had most of the crowd on edge. Spiked fins of bone poked through the wiry strips of rotting tissue that partially covered their spines and it only added to how intimidating the creatures looked.
Both Copia and Miss Vial slowed slightly now that they were both glancing at the hounds with heightened concern. They only just managed to spot the distinctive primal glow of the creatures’ hollow eyes lighting up the shadows ahead like the vivid headlights of an oncoming vehicle. It was obvious that the hounds were searching for something, or someone.
“Ah... I see... the big puppos are unsettling you.” Copia eventually replied in a quiet voice, careful to keep his volume low. “They are intimidating, no? You saw what they did to that woman back at the contest?”
“Yeah. It was impossible to ignore. I certainly won’t forget that in hurry...” she responded with a subtle nod, their strides cautious as their stares lingered on the patrol dogs.
“True, true... but then, she should not have lied, Miss Vial. They only did that because she broke the rules, you know? She was a fucking cheat.” he explained in a strained voice, dipping his head down to puff his words into her ear. “So the doggos are nothing for us to worry about, but if you are a little... uneasy about us passing them, then you are very welcome to hold onto me, if you think it would help.”
“I’m fine. I just... don’t like that they’re casually wandering around.”
“Ahhh, hell hounds are not so nasty really, Aemelia.” he reassured in a flippant tone, wearing a crumpled smile. “At least... from what I understand. They kinda get a bad rep, they are much more chill in the flesh. Then again, they seem waaaay bigger than they should be, guess their wiki page must be a little wrong. That is... kind of alarming but... I am sure that me and you will be fine passing them, ah? We haven’t lied about anything, we’re not trespassing, we’re not – ick - heavenly vessels... and we’re not misbehaving... are we? Are we misbehaving?”
“No.”
“Good! Then there is nothing to worry about. We will just keep our heads down, walk past and enjoy ourselves, ah?” he assured, raising his head from her with a smile once she quietly nodded in response.
The hounds continued to nonchalantly patrol ahead of them and they increased their pace in unison. Copia felt her guiding them towards the left side of the beasts, and he eagerly obliged her. Soon, they approached the creatures and gave them a wide birth, they didn’t want to seem intrusive. Now they were a little closer to the hounds there was the potent, musty scent of iron , and they wrinkled their noses, their eyes glaring once they made the mistake of shooting a glance to the beasts as they passed.
Blood oozed from the towering pair’s salivating mouths, and their teeth - which were predominantly sharpened canines - curled abruptly like their claws. The soft thump of their feet was misleading, for every footstep made the patch of land quake, which forced the crowd to take notice of their presence and the sea of people swiftly parted before them. Seeing as the path ahead was now vastly free of anyone, Copia finally decided to take the opportunity to push his legs a little faster. Miss Vial didn’t question his actions, and instead matched his speed, eager to pass the hounds without any fuss...
But of course, that wasn’t possible.
As soon as they rounded the alert, menacing creatures, their entire forms stiffened like they had suddenly sensed something. Their hollow, pit-like eyes seared into Copia as their large, rotten heads followed his movements in unison. Their soulless eyes scoured him, like they were assessing him for some reason and though he wasn’t glancing back at them, he let out a nervous chuckle, wrapping an arm around Aemelia’s shoulders to keep her close to him, while his other arm squeezed his soft toy to his chest.
Silence fell over that segment of the festival as soon as the pair of hell hounds let out a smoky huff from their glistening noses, and then they stiffly started to bound after the couple, who were ever so slightly jogging. The ground shook now that the beasts were sprinting after them and the crowd gasped, heads of all shapes and sizes turning in their direction. Everyone was certain that a horrific attack was about to go down and every set of eyes was pleading for the violent show to go on... it was rare that anyone got to see such a thing apparently. It seemed that all forms of entertainment were welcome at such a festival.
As the pair of creatures snarled and drooled, their wide paws consistently thumping over the ground, it was Copia that made the mistake of glancing over his shoulder. His mismatched eyes widened and suddenly his legs started to tremble uncontrollably, forbidding him from running any further away. Aemelia looked just as panicked when she reluctantly halted to see why he’d suddenly stopped. His arm fell away from her and she scolded him with her gaze, though his wide eyes were glued to the approaching hell hounds.
“Why the fuck are they suddenly following us?!” she whispered fiercely, it was clear that she was suspicious of him.
“Ok, ok... I may have... lied a teensy bit earlier.” he confessed in a string of swift strained whispers, glaring at the stampeding hounds that weren’t so far away from them now. “Nothing bad, I promise! Just... a couple tiny white lies to get you into the contest, you know? M-Maybe they know that? I don’t know... eh... would... would you be very kind, Miss Vial, and let me just... hide behind you for a few little moments?”
Before she could open her mouth to reply, he let out an anxious squeak and nimbly hopped behind her, swiftly crouching so that her form obscured him from view. As an extra precaution, he held the devil plushie in front of his face, hoping that it concealed his recognisable face-paint... even though her behind did a fairly suitable job of that anyway. He held his breath as the heavy thumps of their feet neared and to his disappointed surprise, his plan of hiding failed miserably.
Once the hounds arrived at the obstacle of Miss Vial - who looked completely shocked considering that two colossal monsters were hurtling towards her – they split off to circle around her, and they let out muffled growls before leaping towards Copia in one violent, synchronized swipe. Miss Vial gasped and spun around to glare at the scene, and like the silent, horrified crowd of various beings around her, she was expecting the worst...
But there was no blood or guts or... violence at all. The actions of the beasts were certainly rough as they firmly pressed the squishy pads of their paws over the not-so-pristine white material of his chest, ensuring that they pinned him to the sandy ground. A choked wheeze escaped him as one of their curved claws grazed the central seam of his squishy soft toy, and soon it was probed so much that it erupted into a flurry of fluffy white stuffing and red fabric. He glared up at their imposing, deadly mouths and another wheeze escaped him when one of them abruptly lowered their head, its jaw open wide... and with an enthusiastic, soft whine, its curled, jagged teeth clamped around the remains of the soft toy. It shook its head wildly and subtly growled, forcing the rest of the toy’s stuffing to fly out from its fabric skin.
Confused murmurs started to break out around him and before he could show his own confusion, the weight of the paws on his chest became heavier and yet another wheeze escaped him when the other hound unleashed a gleeful yelp and opened its mouth wide. Copia immediately squeezed his eyes shut, not wishing to see the approach of its open mouth... his horror turned to discomfort however, when he felt its strange slippery tongue lap at his cheeks. His face scrunched into a disgusted wince and the crowd watched the strange interaction in bewilderment. The hounds had greeted him like he was an old friend, or perhaps even an owner. He hummed in slight repulsion but the infernal dog continued to lick the thick layers of face-paint from his face, and soon, he felt - and heard - the other one snuffle its dripping nose over his collarbone.
Though he was completely uncomfortable and disgusted by the beasts, he was immensely thankful that he was still alive. And so was Miss Vial, who was simply frozen in place and observing the unusual event with wide, amazed eyes. Unlike the strangers around her, she understood why the hounds had taken a sudden shine to Copia – considering his infernal blood - but that didn’t make their friendly demeanour any less strange to witness. She slowly started to wear a small smile of amusement the longer it went on, and soon she could hear his groans of displeasure as they continued to gleefully lap and nuzzle at his face, little whines giving away the creatures’ excitement. She realised that the beasts must have thought that his rat-paint was a large patch of dirt on his face, and seeing as they saw him as a dear friend – or perhaps even one of their own - it was clear that they were just trying to clean him up the only way they knew how.
She was sure, however, from the muffled sounds of discomfort, that Copia didn’t appreciate their enthusiastic assistance at all.
There was nothing particularly pleasant about being doused in saliva, but it was considerably less pleasant when the saliva originated from a hell hound. The texture was thick and never seemed to dry, and the subtle stench of iron was a faint, unnerving reminder that they were carnivorous, vicious beasts. And so, Miss Vial had insisted that they found Copia somewhere to shower off... given his stinky, dishevelled appearance and murmured complaints of disgust. As soon as she’d expressed her idea to him, he was rather enthusiastic about it. The thought of getting rid of his messy chestnut hair and the moist coatings of saliva that clung to his face - which was fairly clear of face-paint now, aside from a few mucky smears of black paint that clung to the outlines of his mismatched eyes – was incredibly comforting. He was so uncomfortable with how icky he felt that once Miss Vial had pointed out a large wash-room tent ahead of them – which had heavy black curtains to support its steeply angled fabric ceiling – he’d snatched hold of her forearm and bolted towards it, desperate to remove the grime from himself.
She’d planned on waiting for him outside, but he’d dragged her towards the most generously sized cubicle before she could protest and once he’d darted inside, he latched the door after her, ensuring that she stayed with him the whole time. It was clear from her cold expression that she disapproved of what he was doing, but she was put off scolding his bold actions when he let go of her and wandered away to explore the spacious washing area. She got the feeling he’d probably thought it was simply a showering area, because he seemed surprised by the existence of its cloak room-like standing hooks and neat row of benches. At the opposite side of the cloak room area was a couple of make-shift showering blocks that were formed from strips of oak and when Copia shifted his eyes to the space above them, he realised that the fabric canopy was acting as a tall, temporary ceiling. He could see the swirls of steam rising up from other showering cubicles and he nodded in approval, centering his head to focus on shedding his leather gloves.
Aemelia glared in horror when he casually glanced at her whilst he discarded his gloves to the thin gaudy carpet beneath their feet and she swiftly turned her back to him before he could take off anything else, crossing her arms across her front. She closed her eyes like she was making sure she definitely couldn’t witness his actions and once she heard the telling rustle of him starting to remove the rest of his clothes, she gritted her teeth together, her eyebrows meeting in a wince of discomfort.
“Shit... I guess that’s another fifteen grand suit ruined.” he murmured, letting out a heavy, disappointed sigh that easily filled the silence between them as he continued to slowly strip off behind her. He started to unbutton his black shirt but his eyes were sadly trailing over his subtly soiled white tailcoat.
“Well it was that or the stink of corpses would've stained your skin. You stink enough already, imagine if you hadn’t had anything covering you.”
“Mm , true... you should definitely imagine that... or you could just... turn around.” he teased, the sides of his mouth curling upwards. “Hey, Aemelia, you ever considered getting a fifteen grand suit? With the right cut... you would cut quite the figure, heh heh. Though... I would much prefer it if you wore nothing at all.”
“I know.” she grumbled sharply, suddenly getting the impression he was trying to tempt her to turn and face him. “You having a shower or what?”
“Ah... yes, yes... I am just... undressing, you know?”
“Well hurry the fuck up.”
Much to Miss Vial’s relief, it only took him another couple of minutes – which was fairly quick for Copia – to finish undressing and once she heard the sliding sound of the shower door and then the telling click of it shutting in place, she slowly began to turn. She was far more confident in continuing her action once she heard the abrupt rush of water droplets and she rolled her eyes, bending down to scoop up the clothes he’d discarded over the garish carpet. She furrowed her brow slightly at the distinct sound of him whistling and huffed out in irritation, neatly folding his jacket, trousers and shirt over her right forearm. She pincered her left finger and thumb around the hems of his winkle-pickers and escorted them over to the nearest bench. She sat down and neatly perched the shoes beside her, setting down each part of his outfit carefully.
She briefly glanced towards the shower cubicle when his whistling suddenly stopped and once she saw the rising steam tumbling over the edge of the shower door, she sighed and slid her cell phone from the pockets of her waistcoat. She decided to busy herself by surfing through some news before he inevitably decided to talk to her... and sure enough, it wasn’t long before he finally opened his mouth.
“Mmm... molto meglio... unisciti a me, Cipolletta. Voglio sentire la tua pelle...” he murmured quietly, teetering on the very tips of his bare toes so that he could peer his glinting irises over the glass door. He was hoping that she would have heard the echo of his voice at the very least, but unfortunately, she was intent on ignoring his flirtatious offer. Hot water persisted to beat over the backs of his shoulders as he watched her, his mouth parting the more that he stared. Her head was dipped down and her pallid features were brightly lit by the light of her phone screen. With every swipe of her thumb, his breaths grew louder and it became apparent that he was yearning for her to look back at him when he reluctantly backed into the spray of water to continue to wash himself, and he did so without taking his eyes away from her.
Other than the sound of the shower and the soft tap of Aemelia’s glossy black fingernail as it grazed her phone screen, it was peaceful and it stayed that way for quite some time. Staying silent was torturous for him because he sensed the potential of the opportunity and he wasn’t too happy that he was simply ignoring the possibility of seducing her, but then... he could tell that she wasn’t remotely interested in him and he really didn’t feel comfortable throwing her into an intimate situation when things had been going fairly well between them... or, so he thought.
Eventually, after ten or so minutes, he was free of any grunge and at the sudden sound of the hot water shutting off, Aemelia shifted up from the seat of the bench to instead stand before it. She quickly turned, already preparing for him exiting the shower and kept her head low to continue inspecting the vivid screen of her phone. There was an undeniable tension that formed between them when he awkwardly cleared his throat and drew back the door, the padding of his bare feet causing the pallid hands around her phone to tighten. Her tension eased slightly at the unmistakable sound of him drying himself off and she focused on her screen as much as she could. She had no idea why she was suddenly finding it tempting to face him... she was sure that she wasn’t interested in him, but... she must have been to even contemplate turning around. She continued to internally question herself and she must have been doing so for quite some time because before she knew it, a bare arm was reaching across in front of her and she froze, watching Copia cautiously scoop up his neat pile of clothes.
“Thank you for... folding everything, Aemelia, you did not have to do this.” he murmured, carelessly discarding a damp towel over the floor. He let out a series of grunts when he hurriedly shrugged on his slim white pants and she kept quiet, focusing on her phone even though her ears were intently listening to the sounds of him dressing. She was a little surprised because he sounded like he was a little closer to her than she had expected. It wasn’t long before his suit pants were tightly in place and he swiftly tucked in his black shirt before he started to dexterously button himself up.
“You... think you could help me with my... paint?” he asked in a quiet voice, eyebrows knitting when he gazed at her hopefully. He was met with an icy silence and she set her jaw, the plastic back of her phone creaking.
“There are no mirrors in here... and my phone screen is too small for me to - ”
“Fine. I’ll do it.” she sighed out, cautiously glancing at him over her shoulder. “You better have some paints to do it with, ‘cause I don’t.”
Sensing the intensity of her stare, he easily returned her gaze and pushed back his damp hair so that it was no longer messily hanging across his face. His skin was practically glowing now that it was clear of any paint or hound saliva and she couldn’t quite look away from him. She presumed she was so fascinated by him because she’d never seen him so plain before, and without taking his eyes away from her, he stooped down to dig a hand into one of his tailcoat’s inside pockets. He fumbled with its fabric for quite some time until he pulled out a couple of small rounded tubs of paint, along with two modest brushes. Her dark eyes immediately trailed down to the items in his hands as he chucked his limp coat onto the bench behind her. She wondered why on Earth he’d bothered carrying such things with him, and the more she thought it over, the more she realised it was probably because he had been counting on his rat-paint coming off for some reason... and she frowned deeply, quickly realising that he’d probably been expecting to get lucky with her that night. Noticing her stern, unimpressed expression as she tucked her phone into her waistcoat, he cleared his throat again.
“I can... retouch yours too... i-if... if you would like?” he nervously asked, hovering the paint pots and couple of brushes in front of her chest.
“Naa, I’m fine with it looking worn.” she replied emotionlessly, sliding out a hand that had been buried in her waistcoat pockets before smoothly slotting a cigarette between her grey lips. “Sit down then, I can’t do with you hovering like a fucking hornet.”
“Ah! Yes, yes, of course, of course...” he muttered eagerly, thrusting the items into her hands as soon as she reached for them. She raised a brow at how nimbly he shuffled by her to sit down on the wooden bench and spun around to face him. He swallowed thickly as she bent down and placed out the small pots of paint on the bench beside him, and when she began to twist their lids off, he busied himself by undoing the top few buttons of his collar, suddenly finding it far too tight. Eventually, the tubs of face paint were open and she slotted the thin brushes he’d given her behind her left ear. A hand delved back into her waistcoat and she focused on her phone for a moment, the screen lighting up her features while she swiftly scrolled through something.
He sat still and patiently waited for her to paint him and soon, she nodded at the screen and then placed it beside the paint pots. To his astonishment, she exhaled deeply and stooped herself down a little to dip the tips of her right fingers into the thick black paint. He turned his head a fraction and glared at her hands to check that he wasn’t seeing things, but sure enough, her fingers were coated in the black paint and what surprised him even more was the screen of her phone, which was lit up with a rather familiar image...
“Wait... is that...” he trailed off, his cheeks blushing when his eyes flew to her face, which was now nearing his. “... you have a picture of my face saved on your phone?!”
“I just got it off Google Images... how else was I supposed to paint your face properly?” she questioned with a look of concentration, her dark eyes scouring his face. His mouth wavered but he failed to resist the smile once the coated tips of her fingers started to outline his eye-sockets with neat smudges of black.
“Hey... it's cool if you already had that picture saved, Aemelia... you didn’t need to make an excuse for it. There is no need to feel so ashamed, heh heh – owww fucking shit!”
“Keep your eyes shut.” she scolded, her eyes filled with mirth when he abruptly scrunched them shut in a wince. She dipped her fingers into the pot of black paint again and now that his eyes were properly closed, covered over his eyelids.
“You’re not used to other people doing this for you, are you?” she asked, her charcoal eyes shining with amusement now that she was starting to fill in the outlines she’d mapped out by firmly stroking her middle fingers across the tops of his cheeks. He chuckled lightly and refrained from opening his eyes... which was difficult for him, because he was immensely curious about her appearance now that she was ever so close to him.
“You can tell, ah?”
“You look like you’re about to burst out laughing so... yep, I can tell.” she said emptily, focusing on every smudge she applied to his face.
“I’m not ticklish in the face, if that’s what you’re thinking, Aemelia.”
“Well... you’re grinning like a fucking idiot. So I think you are.”
His grin abruptly fell in defiance of her observation but it was only gone a few seconds before he snorted and allowed a crumpled smile to spread across his mouth.
“Shit, if I cannot hide it, what can I say? I just... like the feel of your fingers on me, heh heh.”
She huffed out in amusement and shook her head, biting the inside of her cheek as she continued to carefully finger-paint his face. A brief content silence emerged for a little while and he simply sat and let her continue her task, savouring every little touch of her fingertips as they gently swept over his skin. Sensing that he was perhaps enjoying it a little too much, Aemelia eventually decided to break the silence, finding that the wash-room was suddenly stifling.
“So what time’s this speech you have to do? Did it say?” she questioned, moving her fingers a little lower to mark out the black sections of his cheeks. She let out a little gasp when he responded by abruptly opening his eyes. His shock was evident as he glared at her and she frowned at him in concern.
“Ah shit! I fucking forgot about that! How did I – wait! What... what time is it?!” he cried, wide eyes searching her face... which was a lot closer to him than he was expecting. It was safe to say that he was pleasantly alarmed. She trailed her eyes away from him for a moment and tilted her head slightly, looking down at the bench beside him to presumably check the top of her phone screen.
“Just gone twelve.”
“Shit! I missed my slot! No, no, we cannot stay here any longer!” he exclaimed, shuffling about over the seat like he was about to charge away from the bench any minute. “Everyone will think I am a fucking killjoy. This is what this whole trip was about and I... I fuck it up!”
“Sit still, will you?” she pressed, firmly squeezing her left hand around his right shoulder. Her actions persuaded him to settle and he sat still immediately, a deflated sulk on his features when he reluctantly closed his eyes again. He huffed out in dismay when she continued to paint his face with her hands, undeniably disappointed with himself.
“We’re here now. And after the fucking ordeal of getting here... we’re staying, regardless of what you have or haven’t missed.” she firmly told him, which caused him to expel a grateful sigh.
“Okie dokie.” he swiftly pushed out in a small, strained voice, thankful that she had prevented him from succumbing to his panic. And from then on, he sat as still and quiet as he could, allowing her to peacefully paint him. Once she’d applied the coating of white with her left fingers, careful not to smudge the black she’d already marked out, only his mouth was left to paint and sitting still suddenly became incredibly difficult for him. The gentle tips of her fingers grazed the ends of his mustache as they stroked over his thick bottom lip. It caused his mouth to slowly part and he exhaled sharply from his nostrils, unbelievably aroused by her careful touches. He kept his eyes closed and continued to sit still like her actions weren’t bothering him one bit, but had she glanced down at his crotch, his true feelings would’ve been fairly obvious to her. Thankfully, she was too focused on his face to notice...
20 : A Sinful Exchange
Now freshened up and free of the poignant scent of the hell hounds’ saliva, Copia confidently strode beside Miss Vial as they meandered through streams of talkative guests, headed towards the winding sprawl of trade stalls. The feel of his fresh face-paint was welcome, he felt a lot tidier because of it and was seemingly unaware that his white tailcoat was still slightly coated in powdery desert dust. Aemelia was tempted to point it out to him, but considering how content he appeared as he spryly walked beside her, she decided against saying anything.
Although he seemed confident and comfortable with her company in that moment, his mismatched eyes were anxiously scouring the faces of those that they happened to pass. He acknowledged their presences with plain suspicion, hoping that none of them had intended to attend his speech earlier. He was still internally chastising himself for forgetting about such a thing... but he couldn’t do anything about it. He’d missed his allotted time slot and he was sure that he could feel the disappointed, scathing gazes of deflated followers upon him. He didn’t blame them for glaring at him, after all, their Papa had let them down. He’d gotten so intrigued with the unusual events taking place at the festival, and so caught up in the company of Aemelia Vial that he’d overlooked the entire purpose of them being there.
He clenched his teeth to stop himself from cursing beneath his breath and swiftly turned his head away to face the opposite side of him, searching the new sets of creatures for anyone that might have happened to notice him. His underlying paranoia was unseen to Miss Vial for quite some time, until finally, a cloaked group of figures – who all adorned thick and impeccably polished Grucifix rosaries – all sharply glanced over their shoulders, shaking their heads in disapproval as they scolded him with their bitter, crestfallen eyes. He quickly turned his head away to avoid their accusing stares and blatantly sidled up to Miss Vial’s left side, one of his gloved hands gently tugging the folded material of her white shirt’s sleeve.
“Ehhh... Aemelia?” he began, his peaking voice giving away that he was already expecting something of her. “You think... you could pretend to be my... girlfriend or something?”
“What? Where’s this suddenly come from? Why the hell would I do that?” she questioned skeptically with a huff of disbelief as they continued to walk beside each other. When he quietly squeaked in hesitation, she shot him a quizzical glance and he immediately peered back at her with wide, undeniably nervous eyes.
“So it looks like I had a valid reason to miss that fucking speech.” he replied in a strained series of whispers, cupping his free glove around the side of his mouth to shield his voice from any prying ears.
“What? How the fuck would that be a valid reason? Hang on... is this your of way of trying to get me to do something with y - ”
“No, no! I just figured that if everyone assumed we were busy banging, they wouldn't stare at me so much, you know? They would... eh... understand. Pleasure is waaay more important than some fucking rehearsed speech.” he hastily responded. “Well... now I think about it, I didn’t really rehearse anything anyways... shit.”
With a defeated sigh, Aemelia slowed to a halt and he clumsily mirrored her actions, winkle-pickers scuffing up small trails of desert dust. She reluctantly swivelled to face him directly and his mouth fell open when she brashly swept her left arm towards him to hook her forearm under his right armpit.
“I s'pose it's the least I can do... considering your reputation, I can practically hear it writhing in agony.” she quipped with the hint of a smirk, amused by his look of pleasant surprise now that she had her arm tightly linked with his. “But obviously, I have terms. I'm fine with acting the part, but you have to make it convincing, alright? It was your fucking idea, after all.”
“You don't think I’m convincing?! What... what do you mean by that?” he whispered fiercely, eyes widening even more when she abruptly stepped forwards and brazenly yanked him along with her, her pallid face turning away from him so that her dark eyes could assess the crowd and snaking rows of trade stalls that were laid out ahead of them.
“I never said you weren’t, I just mean you have to play your part too, that’s all. Don’t fucking gush over me, just... buy me shit or something, I don’t know. Make it subtle, treat me like we’ve been a thing for years. So that being here together isn’t big deal.” she muttered, persisting to pull him along with her as she walked.
“Ah shiiiit, I get what you mean now, heh heh. You want me to lavish you with gifts? No problem! No problem at all. Thankfully the platinum card can take it, ah?” he exclaimed with a playful wink, bending the arm she had hold of to squeeze her a little closer to his side. “What eh... what kind of gifts do you have in mind? Flowers? Sparkly jewels? Chocolates or... s-sexy underwear?”
“Fuckin’ hell, none of that shit. Funnily enough, I don’t really have any ideas, I haven’t managed to have a look around at all, remember? Seeing as someone insisted on me taking part in that piss-poor contest when I would have preferred to have had a snoop around.”
He blushed profusely and chuckled nervously due to her blunt response and he was grateful that they were nearing the trade stalls because she seemed to lose interest in whether he was going to respond to her blatant complaint. The aisles between stalls were generously wide and filled with enthusiastic clusters of various beings, and humanoid or not, everyone appeared to be having a pleasant time. Copia’s curious, mismatched eyes skimmed over some of them, even when Aemelia firmly steered them towards a lengthy stall to their right. His legs stumbled but he clumsily allowed her to yank him to a halt, his gaze still very much on the guests that surrounded them. She eased her hold on him a little but only so that she could lean forwards to inspect the surface of the stall, fascinated with the items that were tidily on display. Naturally, most of the items on sale were completely practical, even the decorative ornaments and the seemingly harmless furnishings were either enchanted or cursed in some way. Miss Vial was just grateful that everything was neatly labelled, the last thing she wanted to do was head back home with a curse upon her because she’d just happened to pick something up...
As she continued to lean forwards in intrigue, her burgundy plaits gently swinging to-and-fro, Copia’s armpit tightened and his action stopped her from studying the products closely. She huffed out in irritation and backed away, reluctantly turning her head to settle her dark gaze upon him. To her surprise, he wasn’t looking at her like she’d expected, he was glaring at something to their left. Wasting no time, she trailed her gaze in the direction of his wide, saucer-like eyes... and it was clear why he looked so unsettled. He was peering at a slender, skeletal lich who adorned a gnarled, half-singed crown and was sat arrogantly in a hefty throne that was being supported by the backs of its skeletal slaves. Its spiked skull was tilted like it was thrusting its chin up into the air and the longer its throne was carried, the more the pitiful creak of its underlings’ bones became more apparent.
“You do realise it’s rude to stare, Copia?” Aemelia murmured, gently nudging his chest with a closed fist. He immediately shifted his eyes away from the imperial lich to worriedly study her face, nervous now that she was subtly scolding him with her dark irises.
“Eh! I’m not staring, Miss Vial!” he defended, eyebrows knitting together. “I’m just pissed that I didn’t think of bringing a mobile throne, you know? That’s a really fucking good idea! I need to know where to get one of those. You think I could maybe ask him where he got it?”
“Doubt it.” she replied emptily, though her eyes were swimming with mirth. “Lich are highly intelligent but unable to speak to us, they don’t exactly have voice boxes. Then again, they are known for their ability to understand countless languages, and renowned for their flawless handwriting. You could always ask something and have it write its answer down. I’ve always found them quite friendly to be honest, I’m sure it’d be no trouble.”
“Ehh... naaaaa, it’s cool, let’s just... continue having a look around, ah? I don’t want to risk... tripping over my words. He might just take it the wrong way, and... I really wouldn’t want that.”
Aemelia shrugged, “Alright, whatever you say.”
As he wished, the two of them shuffled further along the winding spread of trade stalls, arms linked and eyes wide with wonder. The diversity of the products on display was impressive, and though Copia was disappointed that there was nothing romantic or even gift-worthy to purchase Miss Vial, the items persisted to intrigue him. There was an enormous accumulation of dubious – and likely haunted – antiques, seemingly unsuspecting devices such as digital radios, smart watches, touch-screen tablets, refurbished Furbies, outdated television sets... all of which were apparently capable of conjuring demonic activity. According to Miss Vial, the items that were stamped with a crimson pentagram were certified with Hell’s seal of approval... and Copia was suddenly left wondering why he had no idea that such a thing existed. It seemed that even the Anti-Christ got left out of the loop with certain infernal things, much to his subtle dismay.
The more they browsed, the more Aemelia seemed to smile with excitement. Her arm tightened around his whenever she let out an amazed gasp and swiped her other arm out in front of her to point at something she’d never seen before. He too shared the same feeling of excitement, but of course, he wasn’t as accustomed to the existence of most things like she was. Everything he saw left him blinking in astonishment and all he could do was grin in amusement when her pointed finger swiftly jabbed towards something else before he could utter a word. Had he simply passed the stalls and overlooked their contents, he would have assumed that a simple yard sale was going on, but even in the five decades he’d been alive, he’d certainly never seen a yard sale that sold complete – pristine and poseable – human skeletons before.
Eventually, Miss Vial decided to pick something up – she was careful to avoid the items that were marked as cursed – and she finally broke the link of their arms by lowering her arm, much to his disappointment. He gazed at her with blatant yearning as she reached both of her arms forwards, and then he parted his mouth in realisation... due to the thick encyclopedia – which was intricately bound in heavily threaded chupacabra leather – that she latched her hands around. He observed her face and the attractive shine of her black eyes as they trailed over the ridges of the book’s wide leather cover, and already, he knew she was probably set on buying it.
“You... really like that, don’t you?” he asked, voice wavering with amusement. She shrugged in reply like she was indifferent about the book’s existence and cautiously prised open its cover, and because it was so hefty, she decided to set it back down on the display table. She ran her fingertips over the first thick page of illustrated cartridge paper and she looked so fascinated by its contents that he couldn’t resist wearing a smile.
“You want me to – ahem - buy you it... baby?” he awkwardly questioned in a raised voice, his smile quickly dropping at the sound of the encyclopedia’s leather cover snapping shut. Her head sharply turned so that she could send him a disapproving scowl and his mismatched eyes anxiously darted from side to side... it was clear to her that he must have wanted everyone around them to hear what he’d said.
“Yep.” she quipped emotionlessly, her charcoal irises searing into him.
Without taking her eyes from him, she scooped up the heavy book in her arms, and raising from the table, she twisted her torso to lug it towards him. The amusement on his face was present when he felt the harsh weight of it resting against his chest and he chuckled lightly as she held it there, waiting for him to take it from her. Naturally, he obliged her and once she loosened her grasp slightly, he wrapped his arms around it, letting out a winded grunt of effort when she left it completely in his care.
His eyes continued to widen the longer he held onto it and he assumed that she was expecting him to pay for it because she turned on her heels and wandered a few strides away from him, drawn to a stainless steel table that was littered with jars that were filled with sought-after ingredients. He cleared his throat and with a couple of wheezes, turned so that he could glance towards the stall’s owner, who was stood on the opposite side of the table. They’d been easy to ignore considering the dark grey robes they wore, they blended right into the festival’s shadowy atmosphere.
“Ah... hello...”
“Eight hundred bucks.” the hooded woman hastily croaked, her voice giving away that she was likely older than her posture let on.
“What?! Are you fucking kidding me? Eight hundred?! For this... shitty book?” Copia cried, glaring his eyes once the hefty encyclopedia slipped from his arms to loudly land over a bit of free space on the display table.
“Eight hundred. Take it or leave it.” the cloaked crone grumbled.
“Shit... ok, ok... wait! Am I supposed to haggle or some shit?” he questioned with a subtle frown, gesturing his leather gloves along with his words.
“We don’t haggle at this stall, sir.”
“Fuuuuck, ok. But do I not... get a little discount or something?” he asked, dropping his bewilderment to peer at the robed woman hopefully.
“Discounts are forbidden at this festival.”
“What?! Even for me? I am... Papa.”
“Papa? Papa who?” the trader replied in disinterest, unable to conceal a deep, apathetic sigh.
“Ah c’maaan! Everyone knows Papa! Papa Emeritus!” he exclaimed, mismatched eyes wide with astonishment as he turned his gloved hands towards himself, like he was really trying to point himself out to her.
“Ohhh, yeah, yeah... Ghost, right?” the old woman mumbled, crossing her heavily sleeved arms over her chest. He huffed out an exhausted breath and clenched his teeth together, “Yes.”
“I gotta say, I do like some of your tunes but there’s still no discounts, I’m afraid. Even popes have to pay in full, your Dark Excellency.”
“Shit.” he hissed, leather gloves creaking into frustrated fists against his chest. “You really can’t lower the price a little? Like... what if I gave you something else in return? Other than... money, you know?”
“Sure. That’s how things work around here. If you don’t got money, you trade a possession that you value. You ain’t ever been here before, have you?” the woman chirped, her amused smile audible in her rasping voice.
“Hm... ok, ok... does the possession have to be here, or... can I have it delivered to you at a later date?” he questioned hastily, already fed up with the situation.
“We got IOUs. Not a problem, so long as you sign.”
“Cool, cool, you ah... you got a pen?”
While Copia was hurriedly arranging payment, Aemelia was still browsing through the stall that was littered with various bottles and jars. They contained all sorts of unusual elements, from luminous powders and viscous pastes to thinned bloods and authentic oils. It seemed like she was taking note of the contents of every single container, but of course, she was sure that the entire stall would have been immensely useful to her. Too many ingredients was never a burden to an alchemist. She was fairly content lifting up corked bottles and firmly sealed jars to inspect the items inside, but soon, her peaceful curiosity was quickly interrupted when Copia arrived next to her and eventually, smoothly slid next to her right side, ensuring that it caused their sleeves to brush. She ignored him for a moment, but she could practically feel the presence of his smug grin once he cleared his throat.
“Well, hello there, Cipolletta.” he greeted, the flirtation in his voice obvious as he suavely slipped his folded receipt into the recesses of his white jacket.
“What’s wrong?” she distantly grumbled, focusing on placing back down a few glass containers she’d previously been holding in front of her eyes.
“Ahhh, nothing. I just... bought that book you wanted.” he said prodigally, and she could tell from his peaking voice that he was suddenly incredibly proud of himself.
“Oh, right... thanks, that will definitely come in useful.”
“You are veeery welcome.” he murmured, blatantly seizing the opportunity of her leaning forwards to snake an arm around her middle until his gloved hand came to a natural rest over her lower back. “While I paid for that, I figured I would I organise a little shipment crate for anything else we happen to buy tonight. Or customs would be a bitch on the way home, you know? Heh heh!”
“That’s not a bad idea. I was planning on stocking up here anyway. They’ve got plenty of stuff that would be useful to have in the apothecary.” she responded simply, continuing to concentrate on browsing through the fresh alchemy supplies.
His brazen actions became more confident now that she’d replied and he began to gently massage his gloved fingertips into her back, every little graze undiluted as it passed through the thin material of her shirt to linger over the skin beneath. She winced in confusion but decided that she would allow him to continue touching her. After all, she had agreed to play the role of his partner, and so, decided to tolerate his contact for the sake of appearance. Even though she knew that his excuse for her doing so was unbelievably thin, she honestly didn’t mind him ever so subtly caressing her.
“That book of yours was quite pricey, I was a little surprised. But luckily they seemed cool with the item I exchanged in return, so it’s all good, heh.” he confessed, trailing his gaze over the loose strands of maroon hair that clung to the sides of her pallid face.
“You really didn’t have to do that.” she mumbled, glass clinking as she grasped hold of another unmarked jar to poise it in front of her squinting eyes.
“Really, it was no problem at all, Miss Vial. I just pulled up a picture on my phone, and bingo, instant sale. I did kinda struggle to find a dignified picture of Nekid though, he always takes selfies at the ickiest angles. He thinks its really fucking funny to leave me these pornographic pictures, you know? And I didn’t want to give the old lady a fright - ”
“You did what?!” she shrieked in delayed realisation, the glass jar that was in front of her eyes slipping through her tensed hand to precariously land over the steel surface of the display table below.
“Hey, heeeey! Shhhhh! It’s fiiiine, ok?” he insisted, his gloved hand firmly clutching at the small of her back. “They will just come knock on our door next month and we will just hand him over. It’s no big deal, Aemelia.”
“It fucking is.” she growled through clenched teeth, swiftly turning her head to scowl at him venomously. “You’re his summoner, Copia. You’re the only one that can guide him. Nekid is your familiar and your responsibility, no one else's. It’s no different than being a fucking parent.”
“Ahhhhhh! No! No no no! Sh! You did not just say that, I did not hear it! Gak!” he exclaimed in disgust, features scrunching into a repulsed wince before he defiantly lowered his alarmed gaze to the tips of his dusty shoes.
“It’s the truth. So instead of pawning him off to someone else, maybe try appreciating his existence a little more.” she scolded, huffing out in exasperation.
“But... he’s a little shit. I swear that he gets worse every week. He causes so much trouble for everyone... you have no idea how many sisters I have had to listen to in the past few months. They complain about him wandering around their dormitories at night... they are tired and annoyed with the clap of his ass-cheeks. And on top of that, he loathes me... oh, and he’s a fucking sex pest.”
“That literally sounds like you’re describing yourself. So you really can’t say anything. Don’t forget that he exists because of you, so... take responsibility, for fuck’s sake. Bloody hell, I can’t believe I’m having to say this to you because you’ve actually sold him.” she responded coldly, raising a hand up to her face in order to shade the embarrassment in her dark eyes. His disgust swiftly turned to desperation now that he recognised that she disapproved of his recent agreement, and he suddenly realised that his chances of getting with her that night were already slowly starting to slip away from him.
“I-I can always head back and change the terms... I-I could have them take something else of mine instead. I have shit tons they could - ”
“That’s not how it works, Copia.” she snapped when she side-stepped away from him, which caused his gloved hand to fall away from her back. “If you signed anything, it’s no different than signing a bond with a demon. It might have seemed like ordinary paper, but it really wasn’t.”
“Fucking shit.” he hissed, tensing his gloves into fists as he draped his arms by his sides.
From that point on, due to the guilt of auctioning off his familiar for a rare illustrated book, he continued to pay for every product that Miss Vial was interested in. This time, his platinum card took the hefty hit and it was all because he wanted to redeem himself. But no amount of weird and wonderful items could stop Aemelia from scowling at him. She was appalled by his actions and therefore, chose the most ridiculous and intimidating-looking items to subtly get back at him. She picked things that intrigued her, but no doubt they disappointed him because he certainly couldn’t show them off or brag about them to the guests that surrounded them... and so, she continued to choose items that were simply practical and therefore held no materialistic value at all.
However, he grew a little uneasy with the accumulation of strange supernatural purchases and eventually, he quietly wandered away from her side to attempt to try and sway her towards the more gift-based stalls. He hoped to Satan that she would follow him, because the trader he’d found was selling a large array of impressive jewellery formed out of some sort of unclassifiable – and ethereal - gemstones. The stall seemed to offer the perfect kind of romantic gift he was looking for and he glanced over his shoulder, hoping she would turn away from whatever stall she was snooping through to notice where he was stood.
But she didn’t. And before he could open his mouth to call her over, his frown deepened when he felt the slightest little tug on the very hem of one of his trouser-legs. His confused mismatched eyes glared at the back of Miss Vial as he avoided acknowledging the strange tug of his pant leg, but soon, he was forced to recognise what was happening when a small, uncanny voice piped up.
“Emmm... emm, excuse me, your Dark Excellency! I-I’m a big fan! Would it be too much to trouble to ask for your autograph?” the high-pitched voice came from below, and naturally, Copia hastily peered down to the source of the sound and his expression of horror was instantaneous. There, peering up at him, was a creature that wasn’t much taller than his knee. Not only was its voice eerily similar to his familiar Nekid, it also seemed to have a similar appearance, its skin was a similar shade of grey and its head was unnaturally oval. Had it not been wearing an embroidered tunic, Copia probably would have had a heart attack there and then.
The creature continued to peer up at him hopefully, its black eyes gleaming like it was unaware of the utter horror on his face... until Copia squeaked out “Gahhhh! Ohmygod!” and swiftly bolted from the scene, scampering to Miss Vial like she was some sort of safety zone. He latched onto her nearest arm and tried pulling her away from the stall she was stood at, desperate to leave the scene before the strange Nekid-like creature came back to haunt him.
“M-Miss Vial! I-I just... I just saw Nekid! I think anyways... I mean - he had no hair! He was bald as shit! And he asked me for a fucking autograph!” he pushed out, his voice straining over his whispers. Aemelia rolled her eyes and refrained from allowing him to pull her away from her position, set on studying something heavy that she had perched beneath her left arm.
“You’re probably just seeing guilt-ghosts.” she teased, shaking her head in amusement. “I highly doubt Nekid’s here. Even if he was, it’s not like we’d see him again anyway after what you’ve done. If anything, you’ve probably just been rude to one of your fans, who just happens to look like Nekid.”
“S-So you’re saying it’s a coincidence?!”
“Yep.” she said with a sigh, swivelling around to face him now that he’d reluctantly let go of her sleeve. She ignored the blatant panic on his face and effortlessly distracted him by shifting a large barrelled jar – which she’d been poising beneath her left arm this entire time – to her front, her palms holding each end so that she could easily display it to him. Copia glared at the rounded glass in alarm, studying the unnaturally turquoise colour of the liquid inside, which bubbled every so often. And when he looked closer... he noticed that the strange water must have been preserving whatever was inside, and to his surprise, he started to make out something that resembled skin, though it was an unusual shade of coral. And finally, he realised exactly what it was as soon as he noticed its distinctive shape. His eyes widened even more.
“Miss Vial! Is... is that a... demon dick?” Copia quietly questioned as he leaned to her ear, cupping a glove around his mouth like he didn't want any surrounding people to hear... despite the fact that everyone could clearly see the hefty jar that Aemelia was holding between her palms perfectly well. It was completely impossible to miss.
“With matching balls, yep.” she simply replied. “I’m surprised that you had to ask, to be honest. I thought it’d be in your area of expertise.”
“Ah... yes, well... with demonic anatomy it is veeery diverse, you know? You can never be too sure if it’s actually a shlong or just... something more decorative. That is why it's always good to have that second little look, just to make sure, heh heh!”
“Right... that’s good to know.” she emptily replied, her casual tone surprising him so much that he couldn’t resist wearing a small amused smile. “I s’pose this dick is the real deal then. Don’t think a demon would lug around something this heavy for decoration.”
“Heh, heh, yes, yes, you are probably right there. Wait. You are... not wanting me to buy you it, are you?” he asked, voice wobbling with amusement when she returned his mirth-filled stare with a sincere expression.
“I was actually going to buy this one. As a present for you. It would be a little reminder for you to keep aiming high. You never know, if your hard work pays off, it might end up being foreshadowing.” she quipped, her teeth subtly biting into the grey paint of her bottom lip.
“Oh.” he murmured lightly, glaring at her in amazement. “No one has ever... gifted me a demon dick before. Thank you, Miss Vial. That is... very thoughtful of you.”
Copia never thought that he’d be so overjoyed to have someone gift him a jar containing the pickled genitalia of a well-endowed demon. The fact that Miss Vial had even thought of gifting him warmed him immensely, and for that reason alone, he was sure to cherish the item she’d picked for him far more than he should have. And if he was honest, she had been wise to choose such a thing, because it certainly suited him down to the ground.
After their short, impulsive yet eventful spending spree, the delayed delivery of their occult purchases – and of course, the collection of Nekid - would no doubt be a shock to them once it all arrived at the Ministry in a couple of weeks time...
21 : Unknown Friends
The last thing that Copia and Vial expected to see when they’d finally taken a break from their shopping spree - they were sitting over a bench that was perched beneath a heavily varnished dining table, rustic, floury bread trapped between their eager palms – was the youthful, russet-eyed siblings they’d left at the motel parking lot the previous night. The presence of the pair was strange, but their actions beneath the rippling canopy of the dining tent was even more unsettling. Copia was the first to spot them, his mismatched eyes widening in realisation. They were stood in the centre of the place, and to his confusion, operating a spit roast with their own two hands. They looked so ordinary and unassuming due their young, casual appearance, yet they’d managed to draw quite a crowd from the surrounding dining tables... and the reason for the large amount of interest soon became clear.
The first billow of smoky fire that sprayed over the rotisserie spit caused Copia to squeeze his rustic hot dog between his leathery palms and he let out a quiet gasp, firmly nudging Aemelia’s side with his left elbow. She lowered her food from her face but continued to nonchalantly chew, licking patches of ketchup from the corners of her mouth.
“What’s up?” she murmured, slowly turning her head to settle her dark eyes on him. He nodded towards the siblings, who she could only manage to catch a snippet of, considering the impressive accumulation of people. However, she didn’t need to see much more to realise why he’d pointed out their presence to her. She watched in astonishment as the smiling, dark haired sister persisted to rotate the spit with her hands and the brother crouched down slightly, angling his head to the side of the thin spit, which punctured through an array of meaty, ambiguous looking limbs and organs. Both Copia and Aemelia were thinking the same thing... the meat looked eerily human.
But before they could express their assumptions to one another, their eyes glared in unison, for the small, unsuspecting spiky-haired boy inhaled sharply, and then he closed his eyes, rearing his head back to unleash a torrent of ruthless, searing flames from his open mouth. The crowd applauded the dramatic show, but it was clear that most of them were waiting for the finished product to see if the pair would give out free samples. Copia was immensely shocked from what they’d just witnessed and he suddenly reached a gloved hand across to Aemelia to latch his fingers around one of her wrists.
“Did that kid... just breathe fire? I saw that, right? It’s not just a delayed hallucination from the ember?” he questioned her worriedly and she sighed, lowering her generous hot dog to the table below. She frowned lightly when he didn’t release her wrist from his grasp and she narrowed her black eyes at him, seemingly calm despite what they’d just seen.
“Don’t worry, you saw it. Just like everyone else.” she grumbled, exhaling deeply when he cautiously backed away from her and reluctantly let go of her wrist.
“Kinda spooky to think that he was just sat in the back of our fucking car last night. He could have barbecued the shit out of us – yeesh! It is giving me the creeps just thinking about it!” he exclaimed, glaring his eyes before raising his floury hot dog sandwich to his mouth in order to take a hefty bite.
“Dragons are fairly approachable people, so long as they’re fed. There’s no need to feel so creeped out, they’re just trying to get by like everyone else.” she softly replied, biting into her hot food now that he was swallowing his down.
“Eh... I’m sorry, Miss Vial, did you just say... the D word?” he whispered in astonishment, raising his brows as he hovered his half-eaten hot dog in front of his mouth.
“Yep.”
“But I thought dragons were fucking huuuuuge monster-y things that have wings and claws and big teethies.”
“Well, you know stories can be blown out of proportion, Copia. They’re an ancient race of people, not something colossal like myth leads everyone to believe.” she snapped, shaking her head at him when she realised he was gawping at her.
“Then how come I do not know about this?”
“I don’t know, I guess you must’ve skipped that book, or perhaps you were just too damn busy screwing people to learn about the ostracized supernatural communities that are hiding in plain sight.” she retorted, the bitter passion in her tone causing him to nervously swallow. “Anyway, they live for millennia so they like to keep to themselves and experience the eras without a fuss. I knew there was something different about them yesterday, I just couldn’t quite put my finger on it.”
“The fire breathing really helped you work that one out, ah?” he casually remarked and she let out a huff, shaking her head.
“No shit.”
Sensing that the atmosphere between them was turning quite sour, they averted their eyes from the excitable crowd and decided to focus on munching their food. The recent revelations had clearly caused their discussion to wear thin and they finished their hot dogs in silence, until Copia inevitably ended the quiet by opening his mouth.
“I... eh...” he began in a hoarse voice, dusting the bread crumbs from his leathery palms by rubbing them together. “... I was wondering if you wanted a mini dessert?”
Aemelia swallowed down the last of her food and slowly trailed her eyes towards him, confused by his sudden offer. She started to squint when she heard the telling crinkle of plastic and wore a light frown when he slid out a couple of wrapped Twinkies from the inside of his waistcoat. She regarded them with a puzzled frown and the longer she looked, the more she noticed how bashed and out of shape they were, clearly they must have gotten squished from the playful hell hounds earlier. He held one of the snacks out to her and opened his mouth to ask her again, but to his surprise, he didn’t have to say anything at all because she swiped the Twinkie away from him with a hesitant grumble of “cheers” that caused him to wear a small smile.
They tucked into the sugary snacks in silence, but it wasn’t unpleasant at all. Aemelia seemed fairly content with slowly eating and Copia was immensely proud of himself as he tried to match the speed of her munches. He occasionally sent a glance to his side to check up on her and he would quickly look away when she caught him staring, smirking as he averted his eyes to the surface of the varnished dining table, where his elbows were lightly resting. By the time they’d almost finished their Twinkies, the dragons’ roasting display had finally come to an end and the crowd surged towards the spit once a tray had been picked up by the sister, who looked fairly disappointed by the audience's enthusiasm.
Emerging from the hungry crowd of people and unusual creatures was a man that was considerably taller and wider than most, and considering the pink of his complexion, he looked like he’d been left in the sun a little too long. He strode with purpose and cut through the crowd easily, bald head gleaming as his small squinted eyes surveyed the tables. It was clear that he was some kind of security due to the casual black fashion he wore, as well as his large, intimidating shape. And soon, his hawk-like gaze settled on the glaring white of Copia’s suit and his pace quickened like he was intent on approaching the oblivious anti-pope.
He was surprisingly quiet when he arrived at the opposite side of the table to Copia and Aemelia, and they paused their Twinkie munching to reluctantly acknowledge the source of the wide shadow that had fallen over them both. Their eyes were wide with intrigue and the bodyguard set down his large palms on the dining table to prop himself up, the wood faintly creaking in protest.
“Hello there, sir.” he spoke in a light, amiable voice that didn’t match his intimidating appearance whatsoever. “I work for a friend of yours, and they noticed you wandering about earlier. They’d appreciate it if you could come by their tent and say hello.”
“A... friend?” Copia murmured in confusion, tilting his head to glance at Aemelia like he was ensuring that she’d heard the same thing. “What are you talking about? Who is this.. friend?”
“They want it to be a surprise. It’s been a while. If you fancy stopping by, I’ll gladly escort you to them now.” the man explained sincerely. Even though the security guard was an imposing individual, Copia couldn’t sense anything untoward about the offer despite how sudden it was. He exchanged a confused glance with Aemelia and eventually shrugged, letting out a defeated sigh.
“Sure, why not? You got me all curious now, heh heh.” he agreed, casually gesturing a glove towards Miss Vial. “But... she can come along too, right? I don’t want to leave her all alone.”
“Fuckin’ hell, don’t drag me into this...” she muttered, swallowing down the last of her Twinkie when she jabbed her elbow into his side. Copia puffed out a sharp wheeze and the bodyguard hesitated, humming loudly as he narrowed his eyes at her in contemplation.
“Ummm... they didn’t point anyone else out, just... you.”
“Well, she is... an extension of me, so she is coming too, ok?” Copia rushed out defensively, clearing his throat when he realised that his cheeks had started to blush.
“Yeah, he’s incapable of going anywhere without me.” she quipped with a light sigh, pursing her lips together to stop herself from laughing. “I’m his carer.”
The large amount of attention that the two of them were receiving from the festival’s guests as they passed into a VIP area pleased Copia immensely, and once the bodyguard intently led them towards a plain, unsuspecting tent that was off-set from the main bustle of the festival’s centre, the man nodded his head towards the line of security guards that blocked its entrance. Aemelia had a curious frown on her face – apparently she was oblivious to the various sets of eyes that were staring at her - and Copia was unusually quiet, silently nervous of whoever was waiting inside. The line of security briefly stepped aside and the bodyguard paused by the entrance, draping back the fabric door with a firm hand. He turned to them with a subtle smile and gestured his other hand towards them, motioning for them to enter.
Copia shrugged and ensured that Miss Vial was close to his side, and then firmly looping his arm around hers, he dragged her through the open doorway with short, anxious breaths. She winced at his insistent actions but obliged him, her dark eyes peering up at the tall, coned ceiling, which was fashioned out of thick black material. The walls of the tent seemed to obscure the outside clamour and it was strangely peaceful, the only audible sounds were the gentle scuffs of their feet and the subtle strum of an acoustic guitar. When Copia took a few more steps in, lightly tugging her along with him, they narrowed their eyes due to the dark, both curious where the quiet music was coming from.
“I can’t see shit...” he murmured, his grip on her tightening when he cautiously took a few more steps forwards. “It’s dark for you too, right?”
“Yeah, it is.” she whispered, her shining irises scouring the place for a light source. “I think there’s a light over there but this seems kind of... dodgy. I feel like we’re intruding on something.”
“Shh, ehhh, we’ve been invited here, Aemelia. We are not intruding on anything, ok? Let’s just follow that little light, ah? I’m sure that nothing bad will happen. You’ll be fine so long as you keep close to me, ok?” he quietly reassured, squeezing his arm around hers when he started to head towards the warm glow she’d pointed out. She let out a deep breath and went along with his actions, but she couldn’t ignore the strange, ominous feeling that was clinging to her insides.
They traipsed the vast space of the dim, peaceful tent in a minute or so – considering Copia was guiding them fairly slowly, it was obvious that he was incredibly suspicious of the place – and eventually, neared the warm glow of the only light source, a couple of flickering candelabras that had been burning for quite some time given the strong aroma of incense in the thin air. The more they neared, the more they realised that the candles were perched on top of some kind of surface... an ebony table that effortlessly blended into the shadows.
Copia’s arm trapped around Aemelia’s to ensure that she was still definitely with him and she scowled at his anxious action, her dark eyes glaring at the faint sight of cigarette smoke, which appeared to be rising from a figure that was sat behind the ominous table of candles. When Copia cautiously guided them closer, another two outlines became a little clearer to them, each head dipped down like they were completely unaware of their current visitors... little did Copia and Aemelia know that all three figures had spotted their presence as soon as they’d set foot in the tent. The anxious thumps of their hearts had been a dead giveaway.
However, Copia’s caution and fear vanished instantly once they arrived at the edge of the ebony table, his gleaming eyes glaring in realisation. The experienced men that sat at the opposite side slowly raised their heads, glinting irises immediately trailing upwards to witness the flagrant presence of him... it seemed like his face-paint and that damn white suit of his were even more obvious amongst the shadows. An excited smile spread across his face and his arm casually dropped from Aemelia, who was still squinting at the figures, trying to make out who was present on the other side... and once she could see the distinct, shining outlines of a couple of acoustic guitars resting over two of the shadows’ laps, a smouldering cigarette coolly angled from one of the pair's mouths, the third contentedly lounging back in his chair...
“Hollywood Vampires?” she murmured in dazed realisation, her feet glued to the spot as her wide black eyes trailed over each of the humble men’s faces. She eagerly searched the darkness for the distinct features of each member of the supergroup, and the more she noticed, the more she felt out of her depth. She was a nobody compared to the legendary rock stars that were sat in front of her, and her heart began to pound with unsettled excitement, though her face didn’t really show it. She was mostly in awe of the man sat in the middle, who was undeniably Alice Cooper, considering the creaking leather of his attire and the casual way he was sat. To his right was Johnny Depp – naturally, he was the source of the opal cigarette smoke and he was focusing on smoking at that particular moment, an acoustic guitar perched across his lap – and to his left, Joe Perry, who was the only one out of the three that had lowered his gaze from Copia to focus on his own actions, he was content dabbling on his acoustic guitar.
“This is so fucking cool.” she whispered to herself, playing down her excitement by keeping her expression neutral and averting her eyes to the black fabric of the floor.
Greetings hadn’t even been exchanged yet, but that didn’t keep the smug smile from Copia’s mouth. He was proud that he’d been recognised by such renowned rock stars, but the fact their presence had pleasantly surprised Aemelia made him feel prouder... and this naturally caused his rock and roll ego to swell with overconfidence. He cleared his throat and reached a gloved hand across the flickering flames of the candelabras, dipping his head down a little when Cooper’s sharp gaze settled on him.
“Hey, heeey, how you guys doing?” Copia confidently announced, smirking slightly when Cooper cautiously reciprocated his greeting and accepted the offer of a handshake. He cleared his throat and offered his hand to the other two, but he only received a slight nod of acknowledgement from Joe, and an overwhelming cloud of smoke from Johnny, who seemed somewhat disinterested in his presence.
“Hek hek!” he choked through a nervous laugh, swiftly wafting away the cigarette smoke with a gesture of his glove. “So eh... how are you fellas doing tonight? You guys playing a show here?”
“Who's this fuckin' guy again?” Johnny mumbled, cigarette hanging from the side of his mouth as he teetered towards Alice.
“Eh... I am many things. But you may know me as the lead singer of Ghost... maybe.” he squeaked out nervously, awkwardly backing away so that he was no longer hovering over the flickering flames of the candles.
“And you’re the anti-pope now, I see.” Alice added, smiling as he subtly bowed his head and calmly seized hold of an elaborate glass from the table, which noticeably contained a modest amount of thick burgundy liquid.
“Shit, aren't we all?” Johnny responded, nonchalantly shifting his dark eyes to settle them on Aemelia. His fingers drew away his cigarette for a moment so that he could exhale another cloud of smoke and the curiosity in his eyes was obvious, but she was completely oblivious because she was still in awe of Alice Cooper, who was calmly content with sipping his beverage.
“You gonna introduce your friend?” Johnny asked, the soft glint of curiosity in his eyes brazen to Copia, who chuckled awkwardly in response and anxiously flicked his mismatched eyes between the handsome movie star and Miss Vial, hoping that she hadn’t noticed the blatant interest on his face.
“No, no! She is not my friend.” he hurriedly corrected, desperately trying to concoct something that would stop the cool, considerate star from staring at her so intensely. “She is my plus one, Mis – ehhhh... my wife! She is my wife.”
Apparently Aemelia’s astonishment hadn’t caused her to tune out of the conversation because she immediately tore her black eyes away from Cooper to glare at Copia, her mouth agape in horrified confusion.
“Nice to meet you, Wife.” Depp joked, smirking when the other two quietly chuckled. She quickly turned her head to worriedly face the three amused men and sternly folded her arms in front of her chest.
“We're not married.” she bluntly denied, eyebrows knitting together.
“No, no, we are married.” Copia hastily countered, his sleeved elbow lightly nudging her side.
“We're not.” she muttered, quickly turning her head to scold him with her scowl.
“We are.” he said simply, turning his head to face her with an amused smirk, though the nervousness in his mismatched eyes was plain to her. There was a brief moment of silence before he cleared his throat and reluctantly turned his head away from her to acknowledge the rock stars again. But as soon as he parted his lips to continue the conversation, his actions were abruptly interrupted by the sudden sound of Aemelia’s voice.
“Fine, we're married.” she sighed out in defeat. Her acceptance was strange to him but she’d realised that him saying such a thing had made him a seem a lot more confident in front of three superstars. She didn’t mind playing along if it managed to ease his nervousness.
“You don’t seem too happy about that...” Johnny pointed out in a breathy chuckle, huffing out another cloud of smoke.
“He’s a handful, in case you couldn’t tell.” Aemelia muttered darkly, rolling her eyes when the band quietly chuckled in unison.
“Only a handful? How disappointing.” Depp muttered, biting into his amused smirk when his quip seemed to fly over their heads.
“It’s so great that you could come by and say hi.” Cooper stated sincerely before tipping his glass to down the rest of his dark crimson liquid. “Sorry if it seemed out of the blue, I thought we’d be the only rock stars here. I saw you walking around the place earlier and thought it’d be rude of us to not say hi...”
“Ahh, you are very... thoughtful for that, Mr Cooper. I did not expect to see you either... it’s not exactly the usual kind of crowd we are used to, ah?” Copia replied with a strained chuckle, briefly sending a glance Miss Vial’s way.
“Sure, you’re right about that.” the rock star replied, setting down his empty wine glass on the table. “Speaking of crowds, you two should come along to the show. We’re on the main stage in about an hour, we wouldn’t want you to miss it. It’s not often we get to perform to such a diverse audience. It’s gonna be electric out there.”
“Sure, sure! I’m sure we’d be down for that, heh heh.” Copia eagerly responded, reaching his right arm out to grasp his glove around Aemelia’s white sleeve. She immediately tensed at the contact... then again, considering she was still glued to Alice Cooper with glaring eyes, her discomfort wasn’t just because of Copia’s actions. She watched in silent shock as the rock star subtly licked the last remnants of red liquid from his thin bottom lip... and the existence of the sharp, jagged tips of his elongated canines caused her to gasp aloud. Copia opened his mouth to keep the conversation going but before he could say anything, Aemelia abruptly swivelled and pressed her palms into his chest, firmly pushing him away from the candlelit table.
“Ehhh! Hey! What do you think you are doing, Aemelia?!” he whispered harshly, wide eyes searching her bothersome expression as she peered at the exit over one of his shoulders. “You do not want to have a little talk with them? They will think we are rude for leaving them like this... they were very happy to have us talk with them.”
“Of course they were happy to have us talk to them.” she snapped quietly, pushing him backwards a little more so that their paces quickened. “Did you notice that they only had one bit of furniture? This tent is huge. Why do you think they’d do that?”
“I-I don’t know, I guess they like... all of the open space.” he murmured, searching her alert, panicked expression as he persisted to clumsily tread backwards.
“No. They're vampires, Copia.” she whispered fiercely, her glossy black fingernails digging into the white fabric of his suit jacket when she wore a concerned wince. “Real blood-sucking, throat-ripping vampires. And they need all this space to feed, they’re messy drinkers, think about it.”
“Heh... heh heh heh! What?! What are you talking about?! Where has this idea come from, Aemelia?” he asked with a crumpled smile, half amused as the surrounding shadows whizzed by the sides of his face.
“Did you see what Alice Cooper was drinking?”
“Heh, what? It was red wine, Aemelia. You are just seeing too many convenient coincidences.” he reasoned, tilting his head to shoot a glance towards the distant candlelit table... but she raised a hand and to his pleasant surprise, firmly grasped hold of his chin with her warm fingers. His brows raised in amazement and she assuredly turned his head and he refrained from letting out a deep hum of appreciation when his wide eyes settled on her ruthless black irises.
“Alice Cooper is pretty vocal about not drinking alcohol anymore. And he did a poor job of hiding his fangs.” she contended, risking a glance over his shoulder to check how far away the exit was... not far at all, thankfully.
“Ahhh, c’maaaan... it’s probably a new part of their act. You heard what Mr Cooper said, they’re on stage in like... an hour.”
“I know fangs when I see them, Copia. And you should know by now as well.” she quipped, searing her black eyes into him... it was clear that his flippant demeanour was only adding to her frustration at that particular moment.
“Yeesh! Alright, alright... no need to rub salt into my wounds. Now you know this, I’m guessing you don’t wanna hang around for their set?” he asked, expelling a subtle sigh of disappointment.
“I... never said that.” she replied in a more optimistic tone, a snippet of amusement visible through her panic when the corners of her mouth curled upwards and it caused him to wear a wise, wily smirk.
Not even the discovery of Hollywood Vampires actually being vampires could put her off seeing their the rock and roll spectacle, it seemed.
22 : The Killing Sun
The eclipse arrived without warning. And though the moon was shrouded in darkness, its edges were backed by searing solar flares. As soon as the strange, abnormal phenomenon began, roaring guitars unnaturally shrieked as the Hollywood Vampires abruptly ceased to play the main stage, the speakers pitifully crackling as they clutched their instruments to their chests to peer up at the sky in astonishment. As a further consequence, the festival’s guests began to excitedly chatter and swarm towards the centre of the event, desperate to gather around the crackling flames of the tall wicker effigy to get a better look at the unusual occurrence. The air was thick with humidity and most creatures that were susceptible to the sun’s rays ensured they slung on the hoods of their thick black cloaks to protect their vulnerable skin. It seemed like it was a spontaneous event that everyone had been quietly anticipating, much to Copia and Vial’s surprise. One minute they’d been stood chatting to one another, the next minute, unusual crimson shadows had crept overhead and the crowd had siphoned inwards, incessant gossiping and enthusiastic shoving winding them both.
They were caught amongst the push towards the heart of the festival for quite some time, where bustling waves of amazed guests swept around them in unison. They were facing against the current but simply allowed it to happen, deciding that if they resisted by protesting, it would have encouraged hostility... and considering the wide, unpleasant variety of beings that closely surrounded them, that was the last thing they wanted. Copia winced and scrambled an arm away from him, desperately stretching it towards Miss Vial so that he could latch onto one of her tattooed forearms to ensure the two of them remained close.
Their gazes met and they were equally unnerved by the events they were unwillingly taking part in. His glove creaked as he grasped around her forearm tighter and she shifted her arm a little to ensure he kept hold of her. Her teeth clenched together in frustration when the excitable cackles and murmurs gained volume, and Copia’s gaze softened to become a little reassuring... but there was certainly nothing reassured about Miss Vial’s black eyes. They were wide with concern and he saw the slightest sign of her inky irises starting to blot...
He knitted his brows together and with a strained grunt, managed to clumsily swivel around to face her more directly. He forcefully stretched his free arm outwards and firmly grasped hold of her nearest shoulder, and once he felt able to move amongst the sea of superhumans, he pulled her towards him. When she didn’t appear to shift from the cramped space – she was trapped between a group of indistinguishable hooded figures and much taller, amber-eyed beaked creatures - his teeth gritted and the reassuring expression in his mismatched eyes darkened. His brows dropped into an imposing scowl and his whole form tensed with annoyance. He loathed the crowd that surrounded them, he felt like they were purposely trying to split her away from him. They made his blood simmer and his grasp on her tightened even more.
She winced at him and he immediately regretted his actions when she reluctantly shifted her gaze away. Her head’s movements were so stiff and jolting that it was almost like she was being controlled and he attempted to yank her towards him again... but both of them were too stuck in the forceful current of beings to be able to shuffle any closer to one another. As she tipped her head back to assess the sky with the hollow, black blots that filled her eye-sockets, he wanted to hold her close to his chest, wanted to reassure her with whispered words that everything would be alright... but of course, he knew that it wouldn’t be. The presence of the mortal and the immortal around them, the presence of the dark, energy-hungry entity that glazed over her eyes and his very own presence ensured that everything wouldn’t be alright.
As Copia persisted to drag her towards him, Aemelia’s charcoal eyes grew wider and wider the more she stared above. Although the sky was still a dark blanket of black and maroon shadow, a swift spray of crimson had manifested and started to soar through the air. The strange pulsing ribbons of red particles abruptly fused together and soon formed a single visceral tendril that branched across the sky. And with the sudden presence of the enormous oozing tendon above, the unnerving insistence of the crowd finally died down. Its presence seemed to cause the audience to become docile and eventually, they unleashed roars of appreciation, finally ceasing their brash shoving to sink down to their knees. Others decided to simply stand with a hand on their chest or applaud the rare sight of the soaring creature that flew through the shadow above, scarlet liquid dripping from the flailing tip of its tail.
Now that the tension of impatient festival guests had eased, Copia tugged Aemelia’s arm again, and to his relief, she easily slipped between the mass of guests – who were still cheering, clapping or murmuring now that they were knelt down in prayer – and once she neared him, he wrapped his arms around her, ensuring he held her tightly to his chest. Her back pressed against him and he parted his mouth to finally say something, but when he felt her form tense, he knitted his brows together and immediately tilted his head around the side of her head to study her features. Her glossy black eyes were still locked onto the whips and twirls of the vein-like creature above, and he finally trailed his gaze towards it. His mismatched eyes shined unnaturally and he parted his mouth in amazement, mesmerized by the elegant movements of the foreign monster that swam the width of the sky’s dark canvas.
Both Copia and Vial simply stared in unison, his chin coming to a natural rest over the top of her head, her form contentedly relaxing so that his body could support her weight. Too drawn in by the sight above, they were unaware that shimmering black particles had started to seep from Miss Vial’s person, and before long, as they continued to peer up in astonishment, ripples of shadowy particles started to trail from the tail of the elegant blood monster, and they nonchalantly floated down from the sky, gracefully headed towards the two of them. The presence of such particles was subtle due to the blackness of the sky, and of course, the abundance of darkly-clothed individuals, and so, they clandestinely fluttered towards the stunned couple. The longer it went on, the more the dark matter surged between them both and it engulfed them so much that they were soon outlined in a thick accumulation of glistening darkness.
The creature above continued to blissfully swim through the air and finally, as more and more energy fell from its dripping existence, Miss Vial finally tore her eyes away with a choked gasp. At the sound of her abrupt distress, Copia promptly lowered his gaze, wincing when his ears registered the quiet sound of her sniffles and he hastily tightened his embrace. He glared his eyes once he realised there was an inky black hue surrounding them both and he tilted his head to peer around the side of her face, his concern evident.
As soon as he glanced at her face and saw the sight of her trickling tears, he frowned and started to tug them away from the heart of the place, effortlessly pulling her limp form along with him. Other than her quiet sniffles, they were silent, even when he swivelled them around to face the main exit. He couldn’t allow that thing in the sky to upset her any more than it already had. He guided them through the oblivious crowd, the torrents of dark matter still flowing downwards to channel between them. He could feel the potency of the black particles surging through him but he clenched his teeth and concentrated on lengthening the space between them and the bloodied beast. And the further away they became, the more a subtle high-pitched noise started to ring in their ears.
Despite the lack of discussion, Aemelia began to walk more adequately over the dusty ground, especially now that there was an annoying high-pitched ringing present. Even so, Copia didn’t loosen his hold on her and he simply persisted to hug her to his front, ensuring they avoided the packed rows of festival guests, who were all still applauding, praying or seemingly stoned out of their minds due to the strange being above. Dark energy continued to surge between them and both of them felt uneasy due to its presence. The ends of their nerves tingled from how much it was ricocheting between them and all they could do was grit their teeth together and resist its call to be spent...
Eventually, the crowd became sparser and sparser the further they wandered away from the heart of the festival, and once they spotted the flaming archway which marked the entrance, their strides sped up. Miss Vial was so eager to flee such a place that when Copia’s arms buckled slightly, she broke through his grasp and tore ahead of him, but before she could start to sprint, he reached out and cautiously caught hold of her side. She immediately slowed to a stop and turned around to face him, dried tears staining her cheeks when her glossy black eye-sockets peered back at him. He stepped towards her and swept his hand down her arm to gently grasp hold of her wrist... where her hand was shaking uncontrollably.
“Shit... Aemelia, you are trembling so much.” he murmured, resting his other glove on her shoulder when his eyes searched her empty, unreadable eyes. “You can hold onto me, if you think it would help... as tightly as you'd like, ok?”
Her eyes seemed to waver due to the sound of his concerned voice and the darkness in her eyes swirled for a moment before it started to slowly creep away from the edges of her eye-sockets, reluctantly unveiling the whites of her eyes... which were now red due to the tears that had escaped them earlier. And thankfully, now that the strange entity that dwelled within her seemed to ease its unrelenting hold on her, the accumulation of shimmering black particles – which still shrouded both her and Copia - started to seep into her form like she was a sponge in a tub of dubious water.
“Sorry for this...” she eventually managed to mumble in reply when she sadly lowered her head to hide the fresh series of trickling tears that were slowly trailing down her cheeks. Due to her actions, she was completely unaware of the wince on Copia’s face and she simply allowed him to pull her away from the crackling flames of the main archway.
“No, no... do not apologize.” he said softly, briefly easing hold of her to drape an arm around the backs of her shoulders before he guided them towards the mass of parked vehicles. “You can't help being overwhelmed. It is a lot to take in... even I was a little jumpy back there.”
She continued to keep her head lowered despite his reassuring words and trailed her black irises over the dusty ground. He felt her jolt a little, and realising that she knew exactly where their rental car was parked, he obliged her by altering the direction they were heading. From her actions, it was clear that she approved of his idea to leave the place entirely.
“That thing... in the sky. It was trying to pull me in.” she murmured in a hoarse voice, raising her head slightly to check that they were headed in the correct direction.
“You too, huh? I thought that was just me...” he replied, the arm around her shoulders grasping a little more firmly when he briefly lifted his head to assess the dirt track and packed rows of diverse vehicles that surrounded its sides.
“So you must have heard it as well? Its... voice? It was deafening.”
“Yeah, it was really fucking loud. My ears are still ringing. Do you... know what it was?” he asked inquisitively, mismatched eyes gleaming once they settled on the glaring sight of their white Pontiac – it was a stark pearl amongst a sea of drab paint-jobs.
“Haven’t the faintest.” she confessed emptily, exhaling deeply when she felt the gentle brush of his leather-clad fingertips as he gently flicked away a couple of tears from her cheek. “I-I’m guessing that... that thing was what everyone was there for. And by the looks of the crowd, it probably doesn’t happen often.”
“You're saying they were old? You had time to count all their wrinkles?” Copia teased with a smirk, grazing the side of her jaw with a gloved thumb.
“Not in depth. I mean... I only managed to count yours.” she muttered darkly, her usual cynicism causing him to chuckle in amusement. He adorned a small smile and continued to steer them towards the stark Pontiac, which was - thankfully – now only a few rows away from them. After feeling the implausible amount of power that had coursed between them, Copia was sure that fleeing the festival was still the best option. The consequences of them harnessing such an enormous amount of power were anxiously doubtful... and in truth, that fact made him all the more fearful.
Traipsing closer to their rental car, he reluctantly lowered his arms from her and glanced at the vehicles that boxed around the Pontiac. The black work van was rather unimpressive but the hot-rod on the right certainly peaked his interest, but he decided to keep quiet, focusing on ensuring that Miss Vial was feeling settled. She hugged her arms around herself, long stray strands of her burgundy hair framing the sides of her pallid face as she continued to wince at the ground in front of her.
Eventually, they reached the back of the white muscle car and they split off, heading towards their respective sides of the vehicle. He patiently waited for her to unlock the car by hovering beside the passenger door, his gleaming gaze cutting over the roof to settle on her features. She paused her actions like she had detected his eyes and smoothly raised her head to return his stare. Even in the darkness he could see the faint grey streaks of faded eyeliner that clung to her pale cheeks, and even the glint of her black irises as she studied his expression intently.
And then, to his surprise, she suddenly abandoned her current actions and instead, spun away to wander back towards the Pontiac’s tail-gate. His mismatched eyes followed her movements and soon, so did his legs. He cautiously trailed towards the rear of the car, and once he arrived there, he wore a small smile, watching her slide onto the lengthy lid of the trunk. She perched over its glaring white surface like it was simply a slippery bench, sitting upon her crossed legs and once she felt a bit more comfortable, she draped her arms behind her to support her position. And then she let out a deep breath of relief, lifting her head to acknowledge the soaring sky beast again, silently observing its distant movements. Copia carefully approached her with a thoughtful expression – he assumed she wanted a breather before they fled the place – and slid onto the wide bit of trunk beside her. He shuffled a bit so that he was slightly angled towards her and it caused the suspension to waver. He cleared his throat and now he was in a better position, draped his slim legs over the end of the car, his eyes still eagerly studying her features.
She looked supernal to him in that moment. Her tears had dried into silvery follicles over her pallid cheeks and her bloodshot eyes were captivating. The graceful twirls of the crimson, vein-like creature reflected in the thick charcoal of her irises and he could tell from their unusual shine that the sight saddened her. She expelled a shuddering breath and he knitted his brows together before he closed the gap between them, shuffling closer to her in order to shroud her shoulder with his left arm. He continued to lean closer to her, hoping his actions would comfort her a little, and soon, he shut his eyes, lightly resting his forehead against the right side of her neck. All he could do was embrace her, even when he sensed that the tears had started to leak from her eyes again.
“Shhh, shhh, heeey, hey... it's ok.” he consoled, cautiously reaching his right hand towards her face to flick away the couple of stray tears with a gentle swipe of his gloved fingers. “We are alone and... that... icky thing is far away now. I promise there is nothing here to make you feel unsettled.”
“Other than you, obviously.” she breathed, her black eyes widening a little before she subtly lowered her head to acknowledge his actions. It was clear that she found his company incredibly comforting in that moment due to her relaxed form, but she frowned in bewilderment when he swiftly backed his head away from the skin of her neck to glare at her in horror.
“I-I make you feel unsettled?!” he asked hurriedly, voice peaking with worry.
“Nah, I’m just messing. You’re fine.” she reassured with an amused huff, blinking back the last of her tears. He exhaled like he was immensely relieved to know that she was only joking and the arm around her shoulders tightened. Her dark eyes were suddenly curious when they searched his face for the deep set lines that she knew were lurking beneath his rat-paint and he gingerly raised his right hand to her face again, cautiously cradling the left side of her jaw with his leathery palm.
“Thank you. You really didn't have to bring me all the way back here.” she confessed in a whisper that caused his grip on her to tighten. She could tell he was shocked by her gratitude from the hesitant yet hopeful expression on his face and he searched her features with unbridled amazement.
“Of course I did, Aemelia.” he replied, the pad of his thumb gently caressing the skin of her jaw. “I couldn't have you losing your shit in front of all of those... peoples. I mean, they would have known about it if I had let you, heh heh. It was an overwhelming amount of energy that was eh... going between us, no?”
“It was. Far too much. Thank you for... dragging me away from it all.” she spoke sincerely with a sad smile, turning her head to face him more directly. His thumb continued to graze the left side of her jaw and he slowly closed the space between their faces until their noses brushed. He was surprised that she didn’t jolt away or scold him, instead, she simply returned his gaze, the noticeable presence of concern in his mismatched stare fascinating to her. She quickly became lost in his affectionate worry and before she realised it, her thoughts were freely escaping her.
“I fuckin' love this car.” she promptly admitted, openly staring into his whimsical irises like they were a calm horizon over a conflicted sea. “Even if it is cum-white.”
“See? I knew you would love it...” he murmured with a chuckle, the worry in his eyes softening when he lowered his hand from her face so that he could gently lift her left hand to settle it into his leather-clad palm. Then their eyes closed in unison once he carefully nuzzled his nose against hers.
“You feeling a little calmer now?” he exhaled out optimistically, wincing when he reluctantly backed his head away from her... he realised that his nuzzling may have seemed inappropriate but to his surprise, he felt the warm skin of her nose again when she subtly nuzzled him back.
“I think so.”
“You are not sure? Maybe having a smoke would help?” he suggested, his gloved hand squeezing around hers firmly.
“Naa, you holding me is enough for now.” she murmured plainly, and he exhaled sharply like something had just kicked him in the chest. His heart pounded faster than he had expected and he abruptly closed his eyes again, dipping down to press his chest into hers. His chin rested over her right shoulder and another heavy exhale escaped him when he felt the firm grasp of one of her hands on his right sleeve. He let out an involuntary gasp when he felt the white material of his sleeve lift upwards and her warm fingertips slid inside until they gently settled over the skin of his forearm. She was ever so slightly stroking him but her actions felt monumental to him, and before he knew it, his thoughts were intent on spewing from his mouth.
“W-Why did you leave?” he blurted out in a hoarse murmur, backing away from her right shoulder to glare at her with his wide, astonished eyes. “I mean... you do not have to answer me... i-if you don't want. I'm just being a... curious Papa, you know?”
Her expression was skeptical at first, but eventually, she let out a distressed sigh and the arm around her shoulders tightened. Her brow furrowed and her glinting black eyes were plain to him as she worriedly scoured his face.
“Y-You... were... so afraid of me that night.” he clumsily went on, desperate to conjure some kind of answer out of her. “And then... you left the next day and I... I am sorry for whatever you saw that made you so - ”
“It wasn't what I saw. And it wasn't you either.” she curtly cut in, her gaze honest though the waver in her voice gave away that she was purposely withholding information from him. “I just... needed time to let things sink in. The whole... ”
She trailed off and his eyes gleamed with curiosity when she exhaled a warm breath into his face.
“... the whole Anti-Christ thing was a bit of a surprise. I just needed some time away - ”
“So you could understand... where we stood?” he swiftly murmured, his voice and irises incredibly hopeful.
“Yeah, I s’pose that’s one way of putting it.”
“Hm... I see. So... where do you think we stand now? Not counting whatever that fucking thing is, of course, heh heh.” he said impishly, his mismatched eyes motioning in the direction of the soaring blood-beast. Aemelia bit her bottom lip to stop herself from smiling and lowered her eyes to acknowledge her crossed legs and his sprawled legs that were lazily draped over the very end of the car.
“Well... we’re sitting down last I checked.” she quipped, rolling her eyes until they resettled on his gaze. “But all joking aside, with a bit more time, I think... something might just arise from those things I felt for you all those months back.”
“Y-You do?! You really think so?!”
She reluctantly nodded in reply, “I think so.”
He winced in relieved amazement and wrapped his arm around her tighter, squeezing her hand as firmly as he could manage. She could practically feel his hope seeping into her and she refrained from showing an amused smile.
“Shit, Aemelia... so you are saying... you and me... is a maybe?” he whispered enthusiastically, the astonishment in his voice obvious. “A maybe is definitely not a no, ah? You are not... kidding me, right?”
“Of course not. I’m just still thinking it over. If I wasn’t contemplating it I’d just tell you to fuck off, wouldn’t I?” she snapped, her dark eyes swimming with mirth.
“Heh, heh... yes, yes, you would. Fuck, now I know this... it really makes me want to give this festival the ending it deserves, you know?” he said, his voice wobbling with mischief.
“What? What does that mean?” she asked coldly, searching his impish expression with her suspicious eyes.
“Fireworks. You like fireworks?” he questioned, his peaking voice giving away his amusement.
“Fireworks? Fuckin’ hell, you’re seriously already thinking about banging me? I literally just said I was thinking it o - ”
“No, no! Not those kind of fireworks, Cipolletta... heh heh, unless you... you are wanting that?” he inquired, his expression suddenly deadly serious when his eyes desperately assessed her expression. She was scowling at him, very much unimpressed with his offer and his sincere mask slipped when a chortling grin spread across his face.
“Ehh! I’m just kidding with you, heh heh. I don’t expect anything from you, ok? Well... anything like that anyway. I just meant that... a little kiss would be really fucking good right now. It’s been a very, veeery long time since we -”
Miss Vial had grown tired of Copia’s excitable banter and she swiped her arms upwards until her black fingernails clawed at the collar of his black shirt and she firmly tugged him towards her. A choked breath wheezed out of him and their eyes fell shut in unison when she tilted her head slightly. He winced in amazement when she tenaciously pressed her mouth into his, and to her relief, it rendered him speechless. He immediately reacted to her kiss, and his grasp on her tightened when he felt the ends of his nerves tingle pleasantly. What he didn’t realise, however, was that she also felt the same warm feeling, for the dark energy that she had soaked up earlier started to leak from her form... and seep into him. It seemed that now they were sharing a moment where they were focused on the feel of each other’s mouths, their hearts pounded intensely. It was like their kiss completed the circuit of energy for the shimmering black quickly enveloped them again.
But of course, being too distracted - and in Copia’s case elated - by the situation, they failed to notice the presence of the generous darkness. Her hands slackened their grip on his collar and he whimpered in response, kissing her a little firmer to let her know he approved of her hold on him. Her hands rested over his shoulders, the pads of her thumbs cautiously grazing the opal fabric of his suit jacket.
And finally, with Aemelia continuing to lead their overwhelming kiss, the combination of their intense emotions and the large accumulation of dark energy merged in one dramatic wave. A shimmering wave of black particles that silently rippled out from them and swept over the stretch of parked vehicles to swiftly snake up towards the strange writhing blood-beast in the sky. As more and more particles siphoned back into the creature, it started to quake from the astounding amount of energy. Its audience stilled into silence over the desert plain below, their eyes glaring in confusion, their mouths parted in wonder.
Eventually, there was too much energy to handle. The vein-like creature let out one last ear-prickling screech of warning that caused Copia and Aemelia to hurriedly part ways. They winced in discomfort due to the return of the high-pitched ringing in their ears and abruptly turned their heads towards the sight of the crying monster... which was now pitifully descending through the shadows, headed towards the crowd of festival guests below. As they watched intently, a glimpse of a smirk touched Copia’s lips and his gloved hand squeezed hers tightly, his mismatched eyes glinting wisely...
In the blink of an eye, the blood-beast’s call was cut short. It erupted into an explosion of thick crimson droplets and mangled strips of viscera. Its gory residue flung outwards, and before long, covered the majority of the desert plain below. The confused crowd was concealed by a thick blanket of blood, as were the festival awnings, the fairground rides, the stalls, the vehicles in the parking lot... even Copia and Miss Vial were caked in a sticky and uncomfortable splatter of the creature’s thick plasma.
They squeezed their eyes shut and winced due to the heavy coating of blood that covered them from their heads to their toes, their bewildered scowls manifesting once they heard the unmistakable roars of approval from the crowd of superhumans in the distance. The sound of excitement was strange but from the electric response and fist-pumping, it was clear that the creature had successfully appeased its audience by spraying them with its unpleasant crimson liquid. Apparently they saw it as some kind of good omen.
Copia was the first to wipe the thick smears of blood away from his eyes and once they were rid of the heavy scarlet liquid, he cracked them open. Then he reached forwards to gently clear some away from Miss Vial’s eyelids, ensuring that she could see freely. She reluctantly opened her eyes once he completed his task and her narrowed black irises were obvious amongst the surreal scarlet that caked her form. He gazed back at her bewilderment with mirth in his eyes and shuffled his heavily soiled arms so that he could coil them around her waist... which required quite a bit of effort due to the thick coating of blood.
“What the flying fuck was that?!” she exclaimed, glaring at the grisly sight of him.
“You didn’t like the fireworks?” he asked with a wavering voice and crumpled smile, risking a glance away from her to assess the condition of his pristine white suit... which wasn’t white at all anymore, thanks to the dense layer of crimson that covered him.
“Fucking... shit.” he growled through an annoyed sigh, clearly disappointed that his white tuxedo was completely ruined. However, his irritation quickly vanished at the sound of a snorting chuckle and he quickly turned his head to the source of such amusement, unable to resist smiling at the sound and sight of Aemelia’s chuckling.
“This is why bright white is impractical.” she whispered with a teasing smirk, cautiously leaning forwards to clutch her hands around each side of his neck. “It stains like a bitch.”
He found himself smirking back at her, and even though he could only see her charcoal eyes as they split through the thick gunge that covered her body and the – previously - white Pontiac they were sat upon, he was immensely drawn to her, attracted to how casually amused she was after the strange, unpleasant occurrence they had just experienced. And for once, Copia was certain that she was fully aware of how much he was attracted to her, for her smirk lingered and the hands around his neck gently kneaded, like she was silently encouraging him to close the space between their faces.
“Hey, if you feel I should take the suit off... just say, Cipolletta...” he eventually muttered in reply, mismatched eyes glinting with mischief.
“Nah, the suit can stay on. You’ve always worn red well.” she quietly murmured, his eyes widening when she closed the space between them until their lips barely grazed. His mouth parted in amazement and before he had time to exhale deeply, she confidently kissed him again. When their eyes slowly fell shut, all thoughts in his mind were on hiatus and in that moment when their bloodied faces pressed together, he could practically feel the plates of their futures shifting into place, like their fates were suddenly laid out ahead of them. Whilst they continued to kiss and clutch at one another beneath the flaring light of the killing sun, bodies bloodied, hands tightly clutching at one another, both of them realised that they would have gladly endured that bizarre, intense moment forever.
It was in that same moment that Copia realised he would have to arrange business trips with Miss Vial far more often.
