conte noir

God, if only the rain would let up. The pitter pattering was so fast that the sound was deafening. It was hot and wet, and the stench of squashed earthworms was nauseating. I turned the corner at 4th and Lennox and was immediately suffocated by the loss of light. I wasn’t used to this.

I nearly tripped to the sound of meowing cat, scattering away from me. I must have stepped on its tail. Serves him right for being in my way. These heels cost $200.00 of money I didn’t have. Money I apparently didn’t have to pay back now. Poor Victor. The man left behind 3 beautiful children and the most innocent wife I have ever known. I wanted to hate her but I couldn’t. I felt guilty every time I slept with him for her sake, not for him, and not for me. Though I wasn’t guilty enough to stop.

The small end unit townhouse was finally close. He was a simple man. But underneath all that simplicity rested a very rich man. I pause under the door’s canopy to adjust my hat and touch up my makeup. Cohen didn’t like me, he never did. Throughout our college years he did a fine job of tolerating my company and my incessant obsession with him, but once we parted ways he made sure to keep his distance. I hated him. I adjusted my breasts for maximum cleavage and knocked on the door.

He opened the door about a foot and looked at me, face expressionless.

“Cohen,” I quickly began, “I really need your help.”

He blinked at me, awaiting an explanation. He wasn’t going to let me in. Jesus, he was such a jerk. I couldn’t understand why he was so mean to me. It even felt like he made a point not to look at my emphasized cleavage. It did nothing for him. He had no mercy.

“Victor Castro has been murdered. I saw it happen right in front of me. I can’t tell the cops.”

“Why not,” he asked flatly. But I could see that his interest was slightly peaked. Of course it would.

“Because his body is gone. It disappeared. I was holding him in my arms, he had open wounds all over his torso. He was bleeding so much. All of a sudden my arms were empty. He just disappeared!”

Cohen opened the door slightly wider. He was only wearing sweatpants, baring his lean but well-defined torso. God, but he was beautiful man. I restrained my eyes from looking any lower.

“Where’d he get the wounds from?” he asked.

“They just appeared! We were in bed and suddenly there was blood all over the place.”

Cohen squinted his eyes, contemplating.

“We have to go see someone,” he finally said, “I’m going to go get dressed, you can wait inside.”

I shook off the rain and walked in. His girlfriend was watching TV in the living room wearing a nearly transparent teddy. I was glad to have interrupted them. I had to concede that she was far better looking than I.

We took his car and drove deep into Manhattan. A brightly lit mansion came into site, buzzing with the laugher of an upper class cocktail party. We walked onto the double doors and knocked. A young Mexican maid opened the door. Of course she would be Mexican. Latino was the new black.

“We’re here to see Serpentine.”

The maid appeared to recognize Cohen. She nodded and led us into the building, through a maze of hallways of Spanish archways and Greek columns and gilded fine art painted directly onto the walls. We walked into what appeared to be a strip bar.

“Wait here,” Cohen said, and he walked directly to a man sitting in a private booth surrounded by a cloud of smoke. He sat down across of him, leaning forward, elbows resting on knees. I saw his hands speaking with him, but I couldn’t guess what they were talking about or how it related to my situation.

I sat at the bar and ordered a Bloody Mary. I needed the energy. An Asian stripper served me, flaunting her body at me. I shook my head at her, I couldn’t even remotely be interested. I’ve dealt with women my entire life, I’d had enough.

Cohen tapped my shoulder.

“Go see him,” he said, “He’ll help you.”

“Who is he?” I asked, “What should I tell him?”

But Cohen had already started walking away.

I approached the booth timidly, wishing I had a private place to make sure I was presentable before seeing him. I wiped under my eyes, making sure my mascara hadn’t smeared. I took off my hat and fixed my hair and my dress. Then, I sat down across from him.

The smoke from the water pipe started to clear. I saw his face. It was completely unreadable. I didn’t know what to think or how to begin.

“So I hear you’ve had a run-in with the Death Mage.”

“I- I don’t know who that is,” I answered. I looked at my unsettled hands, fidgeting with my ring. I couldn’t meet his eyes. I prided myself on being able to be bold and forward with any man I met, but this one was an entirely different story.

He leaned forward, water pipe hose in hand. He was silent so long that I had to look up. And when I did, our gaze had locked and I couldn’t look away.

His voice was low and calming.

“Tell me what happened,” he said.

I told him. I told him that I was having hot steamy sex with my married-with-three-kids-and-beautiful-wife lover. I noticed the bed had gotten extremely and abnormally wet. I thought he had peed on me, he had been testing out random fetishes as of late but I had to put a stop on this one. So I looked at the bed sheets and I saw a mass of black. Victor’s body was convulsing. I turned on the lights and I saw that random holes, like bullet holes but bigger, were forming on his chest. Blood was bubble out. Then he started screaming. I tried holding him, to calm him down, and his body disappeared from my arms.

When I finished my story, my eyes refocused and I reconnected with his green eyes. I still couldn’t break away from his gaze. He hadn’t moved at all, but there was a slight smile on his face.

“I’m going to kill that motherfucker,” He said, maintaining his smile.

“Did you know Victor?”

“I knew of him. Who didn’t know Victor. There is not a single black market transaction that doesn’t go through Victor. I’m not concerned about him, someone adequate enough will replace him. I’m just not sure why the Mage would seek him out. And who he thinks he is.”

“Who is the Death Mage?”

Serpentine laughed quietly.

“He’s a fallen Angel who’s angry with God.”

I wasn’t sure if he was being sarcastic.

“In any case, I’ll need you to take me to where this event happened. I’ll take care of it.”

“Can you bring him back?”

Serpentine laughed.

“He’s dead, my dear. With respect to the sudden rise in paranormal activity, there is a point of no return.”

But it doesn’t seem like you cared about him too much.”

“Well I liked him a lot, as a friend.”

“He must have been one heck of a fuck.”

I blushed.