Mesmerized

****

Sleep wouldn't come. My head throbbed and the center of my palm burned. I wanted to talk to Shawn, try to explain, but I couldn't. Not after what I had done to her. I wasn't sure I could ever look at her again.

I opened my door, intending to get a drink. I saw Shawn hunched over on the couch in the living room. I thought she was crying, but then realized she was whispering into her cell. Who was she calling this late? I strained to listen, but only caught pieces.

" ... is that possible? ... weird, but I don't know if ... want to help, I was born to this, like you said ..."

She stood up and I ducked back into my room. I watched through the crack in my door as she slung her bag over her arm. I swear I could feel the loss when she left the apartment, carrying my silver dagger with her.

I could not fathom where Shawn had gone. All of this insanity had started Friday night during the so-called seance. Maybe Annalise had done something to me. Drugged me, or used hypnosis to affect my brain. With all the chanting, and the props, and the stories of tricks used by long dead mediums ... Annalise was behind this, I just didn't know why.

*****

Hours later I wasn't any closer to understanding, but I had some answers. I closed my laptop and tried to process what I had learned about the Crowley Continuum and the acolytes of John Calhoun. Legend held that Calhoun discovered the secret to immortality, and swore he would beat death, in whatever form it took. His followers were accused of countless nefarious practices and demented rituals, all in an effort to fulfill his legacy. Bring him back from the dead. It sounded like lunacy to me, but I could see how people who worshipped him could be dangerous.

How did Shawn get mixed up in this?

It had been hours and she wasn't back. Prickles of fear crept over my skin as I grabbed my phone. Before I could dial, she was calling me.

"Clara, it's so nice to hear your voice." Annalise. How did she get Shawn's phone?

"What do you want?" I tried fervently to keep my voice from shaking.

"Why, you, of course. Haven't you figured that out by now?" I could hear the smirk in her words.

"What do you want with me?"

"Well, to be honest, it's not you, exactly. It's the spirit now held within you."

"I don't believe you. I don't believe any of it."

"Why don't you meet me? We can talk. Come to an understanding."

"No fucking way."

"That's too bad. Shawn will be so disappointed." Annalise's voice had a hard, cold edge to it.

"Shawn is with you? Let me talk to her."

"Of course."

For a moment, there was silence. When Shawn's voice came on, she sounded as if she were crying. "Clara, I'm so sorry."

Before I could respond, Annalise was back on.

"Come to the storefront where we met. Even if you resist, John will force you here. He wants to come. He wants to be free."

The call disconnected. This had to be a dream. None of this was real. But Annalise was right. Even as I sat there, determined not to go, there was tug inside me, in my head, that impelled me to get dressed, and head out the door.

*****

When I got to the fortune teller's storefront, it was exactly as we had left it days ago. Except now, I could feel the sinister menace as I walked in.

"Hello?" I called out.

My voice got lost in the dusty fabric of the empty room. I made my way towards the back and found a green metal door hidden behind some of the decrepit, faux tapestries hanging on the wall. Noises were coming from behind it, I was sure. Was Shawn back there?

I turned the knob, my sweaty palm slipping. There was nothing to be afraid of, I told myself. Somehow Shawn had gotten herself mixed up with this crazy lady and her friends. I would get her out of it. I would take control of this chaos, like I had taken control of my life.

I pushed the heavy door with my shoulder, stepped through, and let it close behind me. What I saw terrified me more than anything else that had happened in the last three days.

I had stepped into a large storage area. Dirty concrete floor, pocked brick walls. A group of people were gathered in the center, under the light of a hanging bare bulb. I recognized Annalise right away, her white blonde hair illuminated with eldritch brightness. She stood with her back to me, five people in a semi-circle faced her: three men and two women. . They looked perfectly, horrifically ordinary. One man dressed like a lumberjack, with a plaid shirt and heavy work boots. One was kind of a hipster. The other looked like a perfectly average businessman. The women were brown haired and dressed alike, in casual skirts and tops, as if they were going out for drinks with friends. Then there was Shawn. The lumberjack and the businessman held her between them, big hands gripping her upper arms.

Shawn was nude.

It sent a dagger of fear through my heart, seeing her like that. Her pale flesh exposed, vulnerable. She was so lovely, her rosy skin shone with a light of its own. Her curved hips, her gorgeous, full breasts with their pale pink nipples. She was perfection and they sullied her with their rough dirty hands. Her face was streaked with tears. It horrified me.

The five strangers were chanting. I couldn't understand the words but the meaning was clear. It was malevolent. On a low stone bench between Annalise and the others, I could see the book. The knife she held raised in her hand.

I took a step towards them. My foot rasped on the gritty floor.

Annalise turned. She looked terrible. I mean, beautiful still, but like she hadn't slept. Her white blonde hair was disheveled, she had dark circles under her wild, bright blue eyes.

She came towards me, the dagger in hand, sniffing like an animal searching for its prey. The chanting died to a murmur behind her.

"He's here! I can sense him!"

She stalked up to me where I stood, dumbfounded. She stared into my eyes.

"You touched them, didn't you. Before I got there, you touched Shawn's artifacts, and you didn't tell us."

What could I say? She could see the truth in my eyes.

"I knew it, when I first saw you I could see the shadow of him forming just behind you. Throughout the ritual I could feel his power growing, but not within Shawn, within you."

She started sniffing at my hair, at my neck. I was frozen in place. She was delusional.

I couldn't keep my eyes from the dagger in her hand. I wanted it so badly I couldn't breathe. I wanted Shawn safe, but in that moment, I wanted the dagger more. Annalise noticed my stare and held it up mockingly.

"Do you know why you want it so badly?"

I bit my lip to keep myself from begging her for it. My concern for Shawn retreated to a pinpoint of light in the back of my mind.

Annalise laughed dismissively. "You don't know a thing about it, or how to use it."

I had to disagree. I had found a pretty good use for it.

"It's not for you, it's for John. This wicked pretty thing will finally set him free." Annalise grinned madly and backed me up against the door and wrapped her long fingers around my neck.

"The spell is laid out clearly in his book. I've nearly completed it. Now, you have to choose. Your life, or Shawn's. If you let us take you, willingly, we'll let her go. If you don't, we'll kill her. Choose."

I could barely comprehend her words. What did she mean, take me willingly? A loud buzz swarmed my brain. I couldn't concentrate. A strident voice wanted to be heard and I had to push it away to focus.

"I don't understand."

"Don't you? You haven't felt yourself these last few days, have you? How is your hand?"

My hand felt fucking awful, if she wanted to know. Like a hot poker was spearing my palm.

"When John Calhoun was found dead, his ritual dagger was pierced through his hand, and into the floor. That hurts, doesn't it, Clara."

I closed my eyes, and Annalise's voice rang in my head, telling me what I must do. What I must sacrifice to save Shawn, and how it must be my choice. The vessel must give herself over, without coercion. Then he would be free. So, in a way, would I.

Claraaa ... Claraaa ... mine ...

It wasn't Annalise , after all. It was the voice in my head. It was the whisper in my ear. It was the power in the dagger.

"Yes," I whispered. I tried to swallow, but my mouth was dust dry. "I will. I'm yours."

Shawn cried out, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. "No, Clara, don't!"

I couldn't look at her, so I looked at Annalise. A ravenous expression took over her face. She suddenly pressed her mouth to mine, to my neck, my collar bone.

"John, my darling, we will finally be together," she cooed. "I've waited so long to share your power. Now, at last. This is the moment."

She used the sharp blade to cut away my clothing. I stood naked and trembling, waiting. She took the blade and traced it lightly down my body, from my throat, between my breasts, over my belly. She rested the tip of the blade between my legs, nestled it right against my clit. Every muscle clenched as the cold silver sent sparks of arousal all through me.

Annalise smile wickedly with anticipatory glee. She laid her hand over my chest, raised the dagger point, and placed it between her thumb and forefinger, over my heart. I could feel it prick my skin. A thin line of blood trickled down my breast.

I looked over her shoulder at Shawn, mouthed the words,I love you. I think Shawn might have been screaming. I couldn't hear over the buzzing in my ears.

Words dropped from my mouth, unbidden. My voice was low and graveled, unfamiliar.

"You would sacrifice all for me, wouldn't you, Annalise. Everything you hold dear, even your life. You would give it all to me."

Annalise gasped, and her eyes lit up.

"Yes! Yes, John darling, everything I have is yours."

She blinked, and something happened. My chest burned where her hand touched it. Her body went ramrod straight, and her mouth dropped open into a surprised "O". Her wide eyes turned from bright blue to dark brown in an instant. I was suddenly light like a bird, a burden I had been carrying was gone, as was the pain in my hand.

Annalise handed the dagger to me, but I didn't want it as badly as I had before.

"Clara. Set me free." That voice. Low. Raspy. Hungry.

I hesitated. What if I didn't? John Calhoun would be trapped in Annalise like he had been in me. But that felt like too much of a gift to this woman who had manipulated and betrayed Shawn, who had been so ready to kill me.Then, my own small voice whispered possessively,she would have his power, his control.

Annalise stood looking at me with her new, deep brown eyes. The acolytes were confused. Several of them stepped towards me.

That decided it. Something in me snapped. I had to get control.

I thrust the knife deep into Annalise's chest, as hard as I could, past bone and muscle and muscle and bone. She stood swaying for a moment, her eyes went wide, and changed back from brown to blue.

"What ..." She fell away from me, and I winced at the sound her head made when it hit the concrete.

Nothing happened. What had I expected? A flash of light? A crack of thunder, and John Calhoun would magically appear?

Shawn rushed to me, sobbing, and I wrapped my arms around her. Her skin was warm. I was so cold. We trembled together.

The hipster acolyte knelt next to Annalise. He looked up at me, his narrow face full of rage. "You killed her! You fucking bitch!"

I stared at the pool of dark blood forming under Annalise's body. I killed her. Because of voices in my head? I had thought her delusional, but was I the crazy one? My body shook uncontrollably.

"You fools!" A loud voice echoed from a dark corner of the room. "Does no one know how to harness my power?"

We all froze. A black shadow gathered at the edge of my vision, then streaked so quickly across the room it was a blur.

"I've waited nearly 100 years, and this is what I'm left with?" The voice boomed from a different corner. It was full of rage.

Shadows formed and whipped through the cowering acolytes like a whirlwind, knocked them to the ground. One of the women screamed.

The shadows built themselves into the form of a tall man. I could see hints of black curling hair, a groomed mustache, the collar of a dark coat.

The shadow man pointed at the acolyte in the business suit and boomed, "Disobedient!" With a twist of his wrist the businessman's head turned at an odd angle and he crumpled to the floor.

"Disloyal!" The lumberjack held up his arms in defense, but his neck snapped with a sound like a branch breaking.

The shadow of John Calhoun slid gracefully across the floor to hover over the hipster.

"No! I've been loyal! Obedient! I did everything Annalise commanded, in your name!" Fear shone in the man's eyes.

The angry voice softened to casual nonchalance. "You speak the truth. And yet, I've never liked you."

With a dismissive wave, the hipster fell over, lifeless. The two women wailed together on the floor.

The shadows that made up the man disassembled themselves, swirled in little spirals, wended their way around Shawn and me. They caressed our necks and arms, lifted our hair, slid in serpentine shapes between our legs. The shadows' touch was almost sensual. They left a tingling sensation on my skin. A soft hissing accompanied them as they explored every trembling inch of our bodies. Shawn and I held each other, held our breath.

When the shadows were done with us, they spiraled together again to form a man. Not a shadow figure. John Calhoun.

His eyes were dark brown, piercing, the same eyes I had seen in Annalise, and in my own reflection in the bathroom mirror. Shawn pressed into my side, whimpering.

With hardly a glance he bent to pull the silver dagger from Annalise's chest, wiped it on her pants leg, and hefted it in his hand.

"This was my favorite. I'm glad to see it has weathered the ages. And that others are finding interesting ways to use its power." John leered at me and I flushed hot.

He leaned in close, stared into my eyes. I could feel his breath on my cheek when he spoke.

"I knew you would set me free. We're intimately connected now, you and I. For days I devoured your deepest, darkest thoughts. I lapped at your most secret, carnal desires, stroked them, tasted them. Your need to control entices me. You embraced my power so willingly. There is a delicious darkness in your soul that calls to me. Makes me ... hungry. Naughty, naughty Clara." His smile was seductive. My heart fluttered.

He reached out and drew a cold finger down the length of me, from the hollow of my throat, over my breast, slowly down to the soft cleft of my sex. The same path Annalise had taken with the dagger. My skin burned like ice where he touched me. My skin crawled but his touch excited me.

Shawn spoke with barely a whisper. "Annalise ... she worshipped you ..."

John cut her off with a tsk'ing noise. He looked down at the body with distaste. "Greedy woman. That I'll never hear her voice again is a relief. For decades she has called on me, demanded my power. Thinking only of what she wanted."

His eyes bore into mine. "Tell me, Clara. What do you want?" He grinned as if he could sense the dark desire burning in me. I hated him for how powerless he made me feel yet I desperately craved his strength and control. It was a deep, almost sexual desire. I wanted it back.

I tried to empty my mind. Could he read my thoughts? I answered with the first words I thought of. "Knowledge, not fear. Order, not chaos."

John inclined his head towards me in understanding. He then glanced dismissively at Shawn.

"Naive." He intoned, his hand raised. "Weak."

"Wait!" I implored. "Shawn found your belongings, cared for them, loved them!"

"Did she? Clever girl." He shrugged. Lowered his arm. "In that case, you may prove useful. There are other lost things that need finding."

Shawn swayed on her feet, her face ghastly pale.

With a few curt words he forced his female acolyte's to give Shawn and me their clothes, and instructed them to, 'clean up the mess.' He pocketed his book in his greatcoat, alongside the dagger.

He crooked his arm to me like I was supposed to just take it, go for fucking stroll. So I did. I slipped my hand under his elbow, but kept my death grip on Shawn.

I didn't know what waited on the other side of that green metal door. I half expected to wake from this nightmare. But the other half of me believed John was right. We were connected now. I was certain of only one thing. I felt empty without his power inside me. If I wasn't crazy, if John was real ... I wanted it back, I wanted control, and I would do anything to get it.

"Clara, I'm scared." Shawn murmured softly.

I gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "I'm not."

John Calhoun pulled open the heavy door, and we walked steadily through. Willingly. No coercion. Free.