Going Lucid (12 page)

The
priest reached another climax of his prayer. It was good a time as any for
Malakha to bring her performance to an end.

Malakha
went limp in her chair and closed her eyes.

“Malakha!”
That was John and by the sounds, he was
approaching her.

“Don’t
touch her.” That was the priest. The sound of John approaching stopped.

Malakha
moaned a little, opened her eyes slowly, hoping she could pull off the bleary
eyed, sleepy appearance. Then she slowly lifted and reared her head back, while
squinting as though the light was bothering her. After a sufficient amount of
time had passed for her eyes to seem like they had gotten adjusted again,
Malakha began blinking slowly in what she hoped looked like confusion and
scanned the room.

“What?”
she asked.

“Malakha?”
John asked, standing much closer to her than he
had been before she closed her eyes.

“What’s
going on?” Malakha asked.

“You…
You don’t remember?” John asked in confusion.

“Should
I?” Malakha asked, trying to pull off her natural dry skepticism. It was hard
to act like her normal self when she was trying not to laugh.

“I
think my work here is done,” the priest said and then turned to Father Thomas.
“We shouldn’t have any more problems out of this one.”

Malakha
rolled her eyes at that. She was never a problem to begin with.

“Can I
go back to my room now?” she asked impatiently.

“Are
you sure you’re—.” Malakha shot John a quick pointed looked. “I’ll escort her
to her room, just to make sure she’s okay if you would like,” the young monk
said quickly.

“Is
that alright with you Malakha?” Father Thomas asked.

“Whatever,”
Malakha muttered. She stood up from the chair and made her way for the door.
When she got there and John wasn’t behind her, she turned to him and said, “Are
you coming or what?”

John
blinked out of his stare and said, “Right. Let’s go.”

Malakha
headed out into the hall, this time with John behind her. The guard from
earlier began to follow, causing Malakha stopped a few paces down the hall. She
looked at the guard and then at John.

“Mind?”
she asked.

John
jumped,
seeming startled and then looked at the guard.

“She’s
been cleared. You don’t have to follow us,” he said.

The
guard seemed to believe John and went back, leaving Malakha and John to
continue down the hall. When they rounded a corner and Malakha was sure they
were out of earshot, Malakha finally let out the laugh she had been holding in,
ignoring the fact that the demon across the divide found the situation as funny
as she did. She’d deal with him later.

“I
deserve a fucking Oscar for that,” she said as she continued down the hall.

“An Oscar?”
John asked. “That was an act?”

“You
didn’t think it was real did you? I though you would figure out I was just
trying to get out of there.”

John
wasn’t following her anymore, but Malakha was in too much of a rush to stop for
him again. When he caught back up to her he said, “Where did you learn to act?”

Malakha
shrugged. “It’s a natural talent. I wanted to try out for a movie when I
younger, but my mother forbid me. Once I’m eighteen and graduated and all that,
I was thinking about trying to become an actor again. My mother might not
complain so much if I started bringing in a steady paycheck or something. You
know, like in the seven figures or something.”

John
didn’t say anything, just continued to stare at her as they walked.

When
they began to approach the girls’ dorms he said, “I knew you’d be interesting.”

“Glad
I’m living up to someone’s expectations.”

John
huffed. “I bet you could probably care less.”

“If the
other monks were just a fraction more like you, I’d get along with them more.”

Chapter
Twelve

Nocturne

When
Malakha and John got to her room, Malak and Sabrina were already there and
Malakha’s new jumper, made from the cloak she had brought from Hell the
previous night lay on the bed. Malak’s sister had really done a good job with
it on such short notice. It was a one piece, just like Malakha wanted and
Ashley had cut the fabric to form two pants legs. And she had sewn on ties made
from extra fabric of the cloak so that Malakha could close the top of the
jumper right up to above the top of her breast. The girl left the long wide
sleeves and hood in place. Lying next to the outfit was a piece of fabric to
tie up her hair and a belt, also made from the fabric of the cloak.

“My
sister says that you owe her for this,” Malak said. “She had to skip class to
get this done for you by tonight.”

“Owe
her what exactly?” Malakha said picking up the suit.

“She
said she’ll let you know,” Malak said shrugging.

Malakha
nodded and then turned to both Malak and John. “I’m going to need both of you
to step out for a minute.”

“Do we
have to?” Malak asked.

Malakha
glared at him over her shoulder causing Malak to roll his eyes and follow John
out the room.

When
the door was securely closed and locked, Malakha went to her closet to grab a pair
of jeans and a fitted tank top.

Sabrina,
who was sitting on her bed watching, tilted her head a little and asked,
“What’s that for? It can’t go to Hell with you, right?”

“Yeah,”
Malakha said, “but I’m still not certain how Hell works. This is in case something
happens to this jumper on the other side. I would prefer not to be left naked
in front Malak, who happens to have a huge crush on me, and a Monk, even though
he’s celibate.”

“Malak more than has a crush on you.
You do know that,
right?”

“Yeah,”
Malakha muttered, still not quite sure how she felt about that information.
“I’m not sure I believe it though.”

Sabrina
sighed and shook her head as she stood up to help Malakha tie the ties on the
jumper since the long sleeves kept getting in the way. As she did so, Malakha
decided to ask the girl something she had been wondering since the previous
night, when she spoke to the demon responsible for the causing the havoc
amongst the students.

“Sabrina,”
Malakha said.

“Yeah.”

“Have I
ever… hurt you before?”

Sabrina
paused to look at Malakha. Then, as she continued with the ties, asked, “Hurt
me?”

Malakha
guessed that could be seen as a little vague and tried to formulate a better
way to get across what she was asking.

“I mean
have you ever thought I was mocking you or trying to offend you on purpose with
my rants on Catholicism and religion?”

Sabrina
rolled her eyes. “That? Malakha, you’ve been doing it since I met you and you
don’t mean anything by it. It’s just what you believe that’s all. I can’t be
mad at you for that.”

“I know
you can’t be mad at me for what I believe in but, was I ever too vocal? Did I
ever offend you with my straightforwardness,” Malakha asked.

Sabrina
snorted. “You mean with your insensitivity?”

Malakha
scowled. So Malak wasn’t the only one…

“Why
would I be? I mean you’ve made it very clear since day one that you didn’t want
to be here and you had no intention of even trying to believe in something you
didn’t. It’s not like I don’t know it anyway.”

“I did
try.”

Sabrina
stopped, her hands pausing in the motions of tying the belt around Malakha’s
waist, as though it was taking all of her focus to comprehend what Malakha was
saying. Malakha almost, just almost, rolled her eyes at the girl. Was it so
surprising to people that she wasn’t as insensitive as they made her out to be?

“You?
Tried?”

“Maybe
not by the time I got here,” Malakha admitted. “But I was raised Catholic. What
do you think I was doing before my parents finally sent me here?”

Sabrina
didn’t answer, only turned Malakha around to tie up her hair, so Malakha
continued.

“I
just... My disbelief has nothing to do with a lack of trying or wanting to be
rebellious. The rebellion thing came later. I really did try to believe
this
, but I just didn’t. It really
doesn’t make sense to me. But I just wanted you to know that I don’t think
you’re stupid or anything if religion makes sense to you. In fact, if it
weren’t for people like my parents, the nuns, and the monks trying to shove
Catholicism and God and religion down my throat like it’s so absolute, like I’m
absolutely wrong, I wouldn’t have a reason to be so… so…”

“Outspoken
against it?” Sabrina asked she wrapped Malakha’s micro twists into a low
ponytail. She secured the tie with a knot first and then tied the two strands
into a neat bow.

“Yeah,”
Malakha said looking into the corner next to the door where the scythe she had
brought from Hell was.

As she
went to get it, Sabrina said, “What made you want to apologize all of a sudden?
You’ve never cared about apologizing for your honesty before.”

Malakha
rolled her eyes. “It’s this damn demon.”

“You
mean you’re possessed or something?”

“No.
Just that he… well… he pointed out that we’re similar in some ways is all. He
thought I should be amused by his antics because it’s no different from what I’ve
been doing all along.”

Sabrina
frowned and asked, “You don’t really believe that, do you?”

“Of
course I don’t,” Malakha said quickly causing Sabrina’s frown to deepen.
“Really.
I don’t. But it didn’t hurt to just make sure. To
make sure I wasn’t, in Malak’s words, fucking psychotic.”

Sabrina
laughed, and Malakha glared. Her friend was doing a great job assuring her the
opposite was true…

“What?
You deserved that after what you did that night,” Sabrina replied looking
Malakha over. Her gaze landed on Malakha’s bare feet. “You have no shoes.”

“I
already know that, but I think I know how to solve that problem when I get to
Hell,” Malakha said, grimacing a little at her idea that would solve the
problem. Sabrina laughed again.

“Are
you two done giggling in there so we can come in? I think you must have
forgotten that I’m not supposed to be in the girl’s dorms,” Malak said through
the door.

Malakha
unlocked the door as she said, “You’re with a monk. No one would question
that.”

“After
getting caught up here last night, I’d rather not chance it,” Malak said going
to sit at Malakha’s desk.

“Aren’t
you in trouble for that anyway?” Malakha asked as she sat on her bed.

“In the
midst of a student jumping off the roof into a giant bonfire last night, I
think Sister Mary forgot about it,” Malak said. “Either way, I don’t plan on
pushing my luck that much again.”

As
Malakha started to lie back on the bed, John spoke.

“What
are you doing?”

“Going to Hell.”

“How?”

“Lucid
dreaming,” Malak said while handing John Malakha’s Kindle with the browser open
to the site he had discovered a few days ago.

John
tried to hide it, but he still looked skeptical, so when Malakha had made
herself
comfortable on the bed, holding the scythe in her
hand over her chest, she said, “I’ll try to bring something back for you.”

“Wait.
What do you need me here for?”

“Because
we’re still learning this thing as we go along,” Malakha said trying to relax
her body. “And who better to have here in case something goes wrong that a monk
who’s learning the art of exorcisms.”

Malakha
had tried and failed to keep the cynicism out of her voice, but John didn’t
seem to mind. He only nodded and stood back to observe—much like he did during
the exorcisms—with an indifferent expression on his face. Malakha turned her
focus away from him, staring at the ceiling as she tried to force her body to
relax, the song that she still didn’t know the name of coming to her head. She
tried to push the fact that she didn’t know what it was called or where it had
come from out her head, but as the song continued and began to falter because
she didn’t know the rest of the tune, Malakha found
herself
growing annoyed and decidedly less relaxed as her annoyance gave way to
frustration. What was that melody? It didn’t help that Malak, Sabrina, and John
were watching her.

She
groaned and sat up.

“What’s
wrong?” Sabrina asked.

“Well
one, I can feel you all staring at me and two, I can’t remember my soothing
melody.”

“Maybe
we should try the hypnotism thing again,” Malak suggested. “That seemed to
work.”

“To be
honest, it annoyed the crap out of me more than soothed me,” Malakha replied.
Then she groaned and said, “If only I could remember that song!”

“What
song?” Sabrina asked.

“It’s a
classical piece. I’ve never played it, but I hear it all the time…”

“Moonlight Sonata?”
John asked.

“No.
Everyone knows that one,” Malakha said. “It’s another one. And it was on a
movie recently.”

“How recent?”
 
Malak
asked, already using Malakha’s laptop to locate the tune.

“Last
five years?” Malakha guessed. “And every time I picture the scene, there’s a
girl playing the tune on a violin.”

Sabrina
looked up at that. “You mean like in the new version of
The Karate Kid
?”

Malakha
blinked. “Was that it?”

“You
mean this,” Malak asked having pulled the scene up on YouTube for Malakha to
hear.

If it
weren’t so out of character for her, Malakha would have bounced on the bed in
excitement when she heard the tune, the name of which and place of which she
heard it having been eluding her, not just for the week, but a few months.

“That’s
it,” Malakha said as the melody began to erase her earlier annoyance and
frustration. “What’s it called?”

“Nocturne
in C sharp, by Chopin,” Malak said letting the melody continue to play on
repeat. “So do you need us to leave now or what?”

Malakha
shook her head, lying back down again. “The music’s fine. I think I can do it
now.”

Malakha
could tell the difference the instant she laid back down on her bed again, not
just listening to the melody and riding the sound of it away from her world,
but committing it to memory. This would be her key. If she ever had to go to
hell without Malak and Sabrina or anyone to pull her back across the divide by
talking to her, she would just the let the music take her where she wanted to
go, like riding the waves on water.

Malakha
lost control of her body again, beginning to feel like she was drifting on
water as the mirage of Hell appeared. This time she seemed to drift up towards
it as her own world began to blur until finally, Hell seemed more real than her
world and her world disappeared completely, the music slowly fading as she fell
backwards and onto a lumpy bed.

******

Malakha
lay still for a moment as she tried to gain her bearings. She was back in the
same large, dark and old building that she had landed in the last time she came
here from her room, but on a bed. Malakha guess where she landed had something
to do with what direction she was looking when she finally began to cross the
divide because last time, she landed on the other side of the room face first
and hadn’t even paid attention to the bed. It was uncomfortable, even though
she had only been lying there for maybe all of twenty seconds.

Malakha
sat up and swung her bare feet over the side of the bed, and it was when she
did so that she noticed her feet were the only things that were bare. The
semi-fitted jumpsuit Malak’s sister had made out of the cloak she brought back
with her from Hell last time was still present on her body, even though the
tank and jeans she had worn underneath were gone. Malakha had also been worried
that the entire outfit might fall apart since the thread Ashley had used wasn’t
from Hell, but Malakha guessed that the thread was so woven into the fabric of
the jumpsuit that it was allowed to pass across the divide too.

When
she stood up, she felt extra weight on the left side of her body and remembered
not just the scythe in her hand, but what she intended to do with it in order
to get the shoes she needed. Malakha tilted her head back and forth to the side
a little in hesitation. She really wasn’t looking forward to this. Might as
well get it over with though…

Malakha
pulled her hood on to shadow her features. Then she began to make her way out
the room and into the hall, but instead of looking for an exit, she took a left
and made her way further down the hall, hoping that the harpies from only a few
days ago were still present. Nancy’s boots would be perfect. Malakha only hoped
that they would cross over the divide with her. Julius’ trench coat never had.

“Hello!”

No one,
or rather nothing, replied and Malakha sighed a little, wondering why strong,
prone to anger fantastical beasts were so easy to find when she didn’t want to
find them, and nowhere to be found when she wanted to find them.

Malakha
sighed as she made her way down the long hallway, being careful not to step on
any splinters in the wood. When she was at the end of the hall, she still
hadn’t drawn any of the harpies’ attention, particularly Nancy. Maybe it was
too early for the harpies to be up, so she decided it was time to check the
rooms.

Malakha
started with the door closest to her. The door was already cracked, and Malakha
hesitantly pushed it outwards some. She poked her head in first and then
slipped all the way inside the room. She guessed the room belonged to a harpy,
but if she didn’t know any better, Malakha would say it belonged to a very
messy teenage girl. Clothes and items were lying everywhere in the room. Upon
closer inspection though, Malakha realized they were more like trinkets, most
of it silver and shiny or with something silver and shiny on it. She may not
have to find any of the harpies at all. She began to look through the items,
shifting the trinkets aside with the scythe just in case there were more than
just shiny trinkets in the mess. She did find shoes, but most weren’t in pairs
and the ones that had both shoes weren’t practical.