It is said that when soulmates make love, they instill a part of themselves inside that lover forever, no matter how far apart they grow - physically or emotionally. It is said there is a curse that can forever remind someone of the one left behind. All you need is a little black magic.
"No. I don't want your money."
He looks at her confused.
"No," she continued, "The only thing I want to see is your revenge acted out. And, don't worry, I will. *That* will be my payment, to see the look on his face."
He pockets the wad of cash and looks again at the highly recommended and feared Fortune Teller/Voodoo Priestess with the black eyes and pale skin. Her hair is straight and the color of midnight. It took him so very long to find her. She took no time at all to convince him.
"This is crazy. I don't know why, but I believe you."
"You need to, that's why. Besides, I think you're paying a big enough price to begin with."
"And you're telling me he'll *feel* this, as I will? At the same time?"
"I'd bet my soul on it."
The white powder spreads far and wide over the mountain range, two lone figures making tracks toward a cabin. They smile, laugh and talk, while a frigid wind blows across the Yukon planes.
**I want you to know that I'm happy for you.
I wish nothing but the best for you both**
The toxic white powder is spread out on a coffee table. The warm tropical breeze from the sea scatters the pale dust ever-so-slightly. It is precisely cut and sliced with an expired platinum credit card of a deceased mobster. It is molded into two neat lines. A one hundred dollar bill is rolled up into a tube. He says the incantation needed to invoke the evil spirits required for this morbid task.
**A younger version of me.
Is he more perverted than me?
Would he go down on you anywhere?
Do you ever speak of me?
Oh, he'll always be your baby
Especially with all that thick golden hair**
The blond man is grasp by the dark-haired one. Inside the log house, they embrace, kissing passionately. Their breathing becomes frantic.
**Cause the love that you gave that we
made wasn't able to make it enough for
you to be open wide, no. And every time
you speak *my* name, does he know how
you told me you'd hold me until you died.
Til you died.
But, you're still alive...**
The first enchanted line disappears in a single swipe. The burning, the awful stinging, is enough to bring tears to his eyes. He leans down to inhale the other noxious, lethal line before he can stop himself. He repeats his former plea, a warped prayer, just as she instructed, to demand the action of the appropriate demons to invoke their power.
**And I'm here to remind you
of the mess you left when you went away
It's not fair to deny me of the cross
I bear that you gave to me.
You, you, you oughta' know.**
Their clothes go flying. Two warm bodies press hungrily together, their mouths locked in a deep kiss. They break apart, panting. The dark haired one gazes into the fellow cerulean before him. "I love you."
**You seem very well. Things look peaceful.
I'm not quite as well, I thought you should
know.**
A finger traces the outline of a picture. "You never loved me. You knew, but you didn't care." Blood trickles down in two lines from his nose. He giggles. "Rusty pipes again."
**Did you forget about me, Mr. Duplicity?
I hate to bug you in the middle of your little
adventure. It was a slap in the face how
quickly I was replaced. And I command you to
think of me as you fuck him!**
A broad hand slaps the small tight ass, the firelight making both bodies glow in the small room. The younger blond man snaps his head back, loving the pain and the pleasure.
**Cause the love that you gave that we made
wasn't able to make it enough for you to be
open wide, no. And every time you speak
*my* name does your blond bitch know how
you told me you'd hold me until you died?
But, you're still alive...**
Agony and the heavens collide. His head falls back as he sighs. Tears surface. He lets out the extreme sadness, the loss overwhelming him. Chemical, mystical bliss causes him to float, to soar in false ecstasy, unaware of the pain, uncaring of the poison halting his heart. He is a willing lover, mating with the Collector of Lost Souls.
**And I'm here to remind you
Of the mess you left when you went away
It's not fair to deny me of the cross
I bear that you gave to me.
You, you, you oughta' know.**
For a split second, two hollow orbs, a face without flesh stares at the Canadian. Death sweeps over him, causing him to shiver in fear.
"Frase, what's wrong?"
A cold grip seizes the dark-haired one. He shudders, gasping deeply. Bony digits caress up his back. Terror snakes it's way through his very soul.
"Ray..."
"What?" the body below him asks.
Ben stares in horror and confusion.
**Cause the joke that you laid in the bed
that was me and I'm not gonna' fade as
soon as you close your eyes**
A black figure envelopes the Italian, it's cloak wrapping him in the dark folds. It is so bitterly cold here, but it numbs the pain, the grief of heartache. His breathing is slowing...slowing...to a beautifully vengeful cessation.
**And you know it. And every time you scratch
your nails down someone's back I hope command you to
feel it**
The Constable closes his eyes and sobs deeply. Angry welts magically appear on either side of his spine, the talons of the grim reaper tearing at the pale flesh, red irritated lines searing the perfect skin. He screams...
"Ray! Oh, God, Ray! NO!"
"What? I'm right here!"
The heartbeat slows further. The scythe makes one final swipe. It comes to a halt - heart, blade and breath. The blood congeals on his lips.
**I demand you feel it...well, can you feel it?**
The Constable weeps inconsolably, in the arms of his lover.
The young lady with the pale skin smiles in her sleep.
The real Ray Vecchio was declared dead upon arrival of a common drug overdose.
**And I'm here to forever remind you
Of the mess you left when you went away
It's not fair to deny me of the cross
I bear that you gave to me.
You, you, you oughta' know.**
END