His honey blonde hair dances languishly, lifted by a soft breeze, around a sculpted face. Straight from a Greek statue, high cheek bones, set jaw and striking slanted aqua eyes, that are glaring darts at me right now. All of that atop a six foot something athletic frame of bronzed solid muscle.
The Greek god is standing opposite me in a fighter’s stance shifting every so often to anticipate another bid for freedom on my part. “You are coming with me one way or another” he breathes resettling in to wait me out. Honestly I don’t really know where I would go. We are in the middle of nowhere on a lonely dusty road with no houses in sight. My mind is constantly streaming doubt and incredulousness at the story he keeps try to tell me. I glint around at the pretty country landscape that surrounds us noting no signs of human habitation. I close my eyes the overwhelming scent of orange blossoms and meadow grass fill my senses. Resolving myself to the circumstance, I pull in my dust laden leather boots together and click the heels together three times feeling the crunch of rocks under my arches after each ‘thunk’. “I just wanna go home, I just wanna go home, I just wanna go home” I whisper. Opening one eye expectantly, then halfheartedly disappointed taking note that nothing has actually changed. Dirt road, rocks, trees, gray chevelle, demon ..check. If I was going to go completely of the deep end why couldn’t I at least have teleportation? “Really?” Blondie scoffs as he strides over to where I had held my position for the last five minutes. “You never know” I remark shrugging shyly. Mood shifting to anger “Since you are telling me you a demon”. “Oh! my bad dreams and panic attacks are real and by the way you know that isn’t really the best thing to say to a mental patient!” Wagging a finger at him my voice raises but diminishes toward the last word. I know it is pointless, but I committed to being difficult and I’m nothing but all about follow through.
“hmph” he snorts grabbing the back of my shirt and propelling me toward the car. “Noooo!” taking a tone that small children everywhere would be envious of. Attempting to plant my feet, which results in him just effortlessly grabbing me by the waist and stuffing me under his arm, “and it’s ‘No place like home” the annoyed demon mutters. “I get you are part of my delusion and all but I have to go back to where you found me so I can come out of this hallucination” arching my head to land a heated glare on him, but only being able to deliver my dig to his kneecap. Watching little rocks pass under my nose I feel completely embarrassed that I could be procured so easily. “Is this how you get dates?”I snark. “You do know that ‘picking up women’ is a just a phrase?””Right?” squinting an angry eye at him as best I could from my indignite position. Tossing his hair back, he sets an amused eye on me, quirk on his full mouth. “Like I have to” stated with such casual arrogance I kick again trying to get purchase on some part of him to no avail. “phmmf” I puff out after giving up. Unceremoniously tossing me into the front seat of the old grey Chevy, I try another escape by twisting under his arm. One hand effortlessly shoves me back in, he proceeds over me, planting his knee between my legs to pin me to the seat. One hand on my chest to keep me in place he closes the passenger side door. I let out an ‘omph’ as he turns and squashes me by sitting on my lap, “Dude, have you tried Atkins?” I gasp out as he reaches and turns the key for the ignition. The grey beast groans in response and roars to life, in one swift motion my captor swings in the driver’s seat and steps on the gas effectively throwing me back into the worn cloth bucket seat. “Put on your seatbelt” he tosses at me, lip curled in a half smile. Setting my jaw, I dramatically cross my arms staring hard at the road now going by me at dizzying speeds.
Personally I think he is probably part of my latest hallucination and I will wake up in a hospital VIP suite with personally accessorized rubber walls and Haldol cocktail. So for the time being this latest psychotic break was at least interesting and he is seriously hot. If I am going nuts, at least this was a fun ride. But I won’t let it stop me from trying to go back home and turn myself in to my psychiatrist. I just keep thinking that I am probably just lying in an alley somewhere shouting to no one under closed lids.
“So your name is ..what..again?” I bite at him. Wind whipping his medium length sandy blonde locks as he eyes the road. “I told you”, turning slightly to give me one really irritated aqua eye. “Damn”, he states firmly, then turns stonily back to driving. “So is that a name?” I snort incredulously, “what is that because you build things that prevent water from flowing or just like beaver?” I giggle at my own joke. Damn just rolls his eyes. “Again?, ..would you like to write this down? I didn’t realize you were slow” “ The name I go by is Damion, so people just shortened it to Damn”. “You don’t get the joke in that right? I mean you say you’re a demon and stuff but you go by Damn?” I spit out while still laughing. Damn just stares forward, if I didn’t know better it would look like he was counting backwards from 10 in his head.
I look out the window and feel the wind and sun on my face. This seems so real. I wonder to myself. Suddenly, a coils starts to wind in my head and a spike of pain strikes behind my eyes. I start to grimace at what feels like an invisible hand squeezing my head. Ribbons of fear shoot from my middle to my heart, in turn my pace surges, colors burst into my mind. I double over, one hand on my head. In the distant fog, I feel the car skid to a stop, I hear the road spray against the tires. Blue, red, orange spirals twist in my mind as the pain twists around my brain. I hear a voice saying ‘following the colors’. I pull one of the colors out and focus on it. Somewhere I hear a car door slam, footsteps, am I in the air? More pain stabs and my left eye. I try to pull one of the threads as the voice patiently tells me. I try and make the red thread larger, it spins faster and faster. Slowly coming into focus I see Damn. His eyes are on fire as he plunges a black dagger into someone. The walls of the room we are in are painted in dread and blood. Little pinprick spikes engulf my head; darkness borders my inner vision. Slowly everything goes blissfully black.
As consciousness slowly unreels, the first thing that sings to me are my muscles, heavy and sore, not fully recovered from running for two days. Muzzily my thoughts softly chide that if this was a hallucination it was a doozy. After doing a full body check I feel something soft under my pulsing head. I slowly squint at the light assaulting my senses. A large head moves over me and blocks it out.
Damn leaves me in the car as he procures a room at yet another crap motel. After any of my attacks my head pounds and I lose coordination so Darn Darko knows I won’t be going anywhere. I see him stalk back to the dirty Chevy. He is always on high alert I ponder to myself watching him check out all the rooms, cars and parking lot before closing the last distance to the car. What could be so horrible that keeps this dude constantly on guard? And why does it have anything to do with someone as mental as me? Too tired and concepts too weird to fathom I just cast it out and move to open the heavy metal car door that has seemed to gain another ton since I last attempted this maneuver. “You are still weak from the vision” Damn states while effortlessly pull the door open and gently placing a supporting hand under my elbow to help me out. We had been through this at least four times since he showed up to ‘save’ me. I give him a pained quizzical expression before pushing my leg out of the car. My leg seemed to gain weight as well. I slowly attempt to lift myself out of the car and find my legs lacking for the task. Damn catches me around the waist, lifts me, backs up and kicks the door shut. A manky looking motel occupant eyes us cautiously as he walks down the motel walkway. “yeah my ole lady can’t handle her shit either’ he sneers, throws a nod in our direction, waves a hand then disappears into one of the rooms on the first floor. I just curl my lip in disgust. Damn snickers, putting one of his legs behind mine he shifts my feet on top of his and pantomimes me walking like a puppet on his feet toward our apparent room. Sagging in his hold I just shake my head. Maybe he as a sense of humor after all. “Dude, put me the fuck down” I half-heartedly grind out after entering the dusky smelling room. He suddenly lets go completely. I sort of fall toward the bed and catch myself. I glare up at him and I swear I saw a smirk. I lay back, sleep closes in too quickly for me to even shift under the covers. I spend too much time trying figure out where I am when I wake up, I muse as I glare at the motel room window. The light outside the dingy checkered curtains that seem mandatory for crap out of the way motels, were haloed in the muted oranges of dusk. I slowly sit up, feeling slightly less like a squeezed orange and more like the grumpy bitch that I am used to. I hear the shower running and look around to see fast food bag on the table by the bed I am laying on. “Hey, Dr. Delusion!” I yell. The water from the shower squeaks off, sliding shower curtain rings jingle, slapping footsteps echo toward the bathroom door and out comes the demon in full splendor dripping wet. “Whoa!” dude!” I whip my head around toward the room door in the opposite direction of the bathroom. My head still damaged from the vision swirls in protest at the violence in this action. “We talked about this! Towel!. Junk stays out of sight” “seriously” I exclaim emphatically. Apparently being supernatural means you have no problem being nude in front of people. Damn grunts, I hear a ‘thwack” of a towel being pulled down off the towel rack in the bathroom. “Your virgin eyes are safe” he snarks sardonically. I turn my head slightly to make sure that all his bits are covered.
“I wished you would stop calling me that” he says attempting a tone of patience but failing. “I told you, your mother was an untrained Oracle, you in turn are a half-breed. The collective wants to use you to forsee the …”.
“My mother is insane and has been since I can remember” I assert cutting him short.
“Right, just like you thought you were” giving me a pointed concreate look.
“So that is the end of the conversation?” I bite back angrily. “Dude, you really don’t know anything do you?” I just mock a stare back at him dramatically. In frustration he grabs his pants off the chair and drops the towel again. “DUDE!” I gasp as I suddenly find the wallpaper extra interesting.
“I don’t see the issue?” says the muscular figment of my imagination impatiently. At least I have a really well developed fantasy life I meander to myself thinking over the view I got before looking away.
“Are you getting another vision?” I hear Damn saying voice full of concern. Suddenly realizing that I was probably donning a thousand yard stare. “Nope!” I say my voice too high pitched. After pants were securely in place, Damn plops down in a badly upholstered chair. “Look, since you think this whole thing is part of some psychotic episode why night just ride it out” he says flipping one hand in the air annoyed. “Eat, I got the dead cow, wrapped in lettuce and criminally greasy fries” he says trying to mock the way I ordered it. For the first time I notice a slight non distinct accent in his voice. “So, where are you from?” I look earnestly at him. “I thought I was a figment of your mental breakdown?” he says curling his mouth in a half smile. “I guess that would make my point of origin your head” he states raising both eyebrows, a glint of humor splashed through his eyes. I am taken aback at how unreal his looks are. Too perfect. Clear sun kissed skin like silk over steel, slanted aqua eyes, physique of a bodybuilder but still lean like a fighter. If this wasn’t my imagination I actually would believe he was unworldly. He just looks at me like ‘what?’ and I shake my head. “Okay” I say pointing to the bed next to mine. He steps over and sits, looks anticipatory at me. “So my visions are important” I say pointedly. Giving me a glazed expression he nods dramatically and gives me the “uh huh” look. He makes the ‘hurry up, get to the point gesture with his hand. “Why are little bits of colored string important?”. Damn, sighs heavily. This is the un-trained’ part we talked about. You need guidance to pull out the meaning.” His body relaxes a bit and his expression turns more earnest instead of the bored annoyed one that he usually wears. Leveling an unexpected sympathetic gaze at me he softly continues “I know you are scared. I know that this is so far away from what you deem as acceptable concepts and that you are telling yourself that it is a collapse. Have you ever wondered why you feel so different? Why all the businesses you worked for closed a year after you worked there?”. Feeling shocked at the last statement I just stare and him open mouthed for a second. “All what? The places I worked. What?” feeling a shiver work itself up my spine.
Giving me a thoughtful look “What made you apply for the jobs you have been at?”
“I didn’t do anything to hurt the businesses I worked for!” I demand feeling guilty. “Sure they probably weren’t thrilled with me but as I tend to run of the building like my ass is on fire after a while, outside of quite correctly thinking they hired a lunatic…….. I did nothing wrong!” lowering my eyes remembering embarrassment my panic attacks have caused, heat rising in my cheeks. I never could hold job, being hard of head, big of mouth and scary spiders in my nervous system that freak out flood my brain and taking my body prisoner.
I look up to find Damn looking at me with might pass for sympathy if I hadn’t been manhandled for the last week by him. “Right” he starts again “but why did you go to those places looking for work?” nodding his head encouraging me to reply.
“When I am looking for work I always just feel better about applying at some places” I say meekly. “I know it is all new aging and stuff, but it has always worked for me. I get a good feeling about a place and I get the job” the words come out more softly as I speak. “I tried just applying for jobs that logically fit my skills but I never get a job unless a get a ‘vibe’” “I know it is kinda sixties but…” I trail off waiting for him to scoff, but instead I am met with an expression that I can’t discern.
“So Damn” I say quietly looking at the dank carpet that wondrously matched the crap curtains. I wonder if there is a catalog of ugly motel furnishing that are pre-odorfied to stink like butt. “Yes Lily” I raise my head to meet the soft aqua gaze of the demon opposite me. “You used my name” I smile.
“I will do so more often if I never have to hear the damnable “Dude” one more time. Damn, Damion or Bael but never fucking ‘duuude’ ” He mutters sighing.
My lip twitches “Dude, you just said …damnable….heh hehe” I snicker emulating South Park. My somewhat still aching head is assaulted with a flying pillow.