He sat on the bed, his door closed and the notebook clenched in his hands. He read and reread the log numerous times. He took his time with every page as if to sear the words into his mind. He was shaking.
He remembered the dream. The fear remained, but he couldn't deny the desire behind it. It felt so real, and a part of him ached to feel it again, though he much preferred water for rain.
His heart jumped to his throat when his phone began rattling violently, shattering a long-held silence. He answered, "Hello?"
"I'm sorry," a voice replied. The accent was thick, the tone familiar.
Tyler stood up, and tossed the log aside, "Morrigan?"
She sounded uncomfortable, her voice betraying her words behind a forced smile. "Hey you. Are you okay?"
He was baffled at the coincidence, the dream still fresh on his mind. Tyler didn't know whether to smile or frown. "Why wouldn't I be?" he replied, stumbling over the words.
"Don't play dumb, I don't appreciate it," she said.
"There are quite a few things that are not okay right now, so please be specific."
"Oh," she laughed, "Okay, what's bothering you the most."
"I'm starting to believe you. I'm forgetting things."
There was a brief pause before Morrigan spoke, "I fail to see how that's not okay. I personally think that's wonderful."
"No, it's why I believe you that's the problem."
"Go on."
"I spent all night forgetting and remembering you. I could feel the memories fading." He paused, sighed, and continued, "I found something, but it looks really bad."
"Okay?"
"I found a notebook hidden away in my desk. I guess I had the idea before and logged everything I could remember."
"Only to forget and repeat the process anew? That makes so much more sense."
"Does it?"
"You're obsessed. You want to remember and took measures to do so. I've been hoping for that. It's just taking longer with you."
"All these things really did happen?"
She laughed. "Yes. You just forgot about them. Not entirely, but still."
"Sorry. For what it's worth, I'm not happy about forgetting. These are memories I would have liked to keep."
"Don't dwell. It invites regret, among other hardships." She said, her voice quiet, as if in thought.
Tyler forced himself to sit still, unable to indulge the urge to pace in such a small room. "What's wrong?"
Her voice shifted when she answered, a cheerful tone that ignored his question, "I can replace them, if you'd like."
"My memories of you?"
"Yes,” she said. “Do you know where we met?"
Tyler smiled on impulse, "Hillary's, according to the log.”
“You were especially confident. You tried to show off at billiards, regardless of how blind I was.”
“Did you find it endearing?”
“No, I'm blind. I couldn't form an opinion on it at all,” she replied. “What else is bothering you?”
He stopped himself before answering. “It’s nothing.”
“You’re sure?”
“I am.” Tyler said, but he spoke far too fast for it to be convincing. “When will I see you again?”
“Well, I had an accident."
Suddenly, every other problem disappeared. "An accident? Are you okay?"
"I fell down the stairs to my apartment. It happens, just wanted to warn you. I'm a little beat up. I'll be fine though. I'm free tonight."
Tyler chuckled, "We get to have a second date after all."
“Bout damn time. Let's start with Hillary's.
"Sure," Tyler replied, standing and making his way to the living room. “Should I pick you up?"
She chuckled, the words pouring through the speaker, "I'll see you in the park at three. I'm looking forward to it."
He tried to reply, but she hung up.
Tyler walked down the hall, saw Charles sitting on the couch and opened his mouth to speak. He was abruptly interrupted by a voice from the kitchen, "Allright, alright, alright. Hey there, Tye. I made brunch." Anthony, a young man Charles brought home some weeks before, appeared with three plates in hand. "Just the way my mom made it."
Tyler shook the thoughts from his mind and laughed as he took his plate. “Thanks.”
“No problem. I like to cook.” Anthony said, “Have you been asleep all this time. It’s like noon."
“It’s Noon?” Tyler said, glancing at his phone.
“It’s your day off,” Charles began. “Why are you shocked. Got something planned?"
“Yeah, I’m meeting Morrigan today.” Tyler replied, and silence followed. “What?”
“You’re dating someone?” Charles asked.
“Yeah, you saw her at the cafe.”
“I don't remember seeing anyone. Was it that redhead you were talking about?”
Tyler nodded, “Yeah, I guess you missed her. I gotta get ready."
Tyler stood, placed his plate in the sink, and went about making himself presentable. He pondered getting new clothes, maybe a haircut as well. When he left, he walked down the steps and felt his attention pull towards the other end of the street. It was like gravity, his eyes moving without his consent to focus on a man in a long black coat. The man stood in an alley, shrouded from the sun.
Tyler took note of the skin, yellow and shiny as if made of rubber. The way the man moved as he paced from one side of the alley to the other looked wrong. The man looked up, saw Tyler, and his eyes never shifted. Tyler walked, his body stiff as if one wrong move could lead to some unfortunate event.
He didn't want to think about it. He entered the car, drove off, and let out a sigh of relief. He looked into the rear view mirror and saw the man step from the alley, his eyes never breaking away until Tyler was too far to see.
Morrigan laughed as she tied a thread of twine to a wooden rod, fastening it in place. "Thank you for staying."
"It was nothing."
Morrigan fastened the final rod, feeling up and down the structure of her creation for any imperfections.
"What's that?" Beatrice asked. "Some kind of magic wind-chime?"
Morrigan turned around and gave her a playful glare, "Not magic. We always called it a witch's ladder back at the compound."
"What does it do?"
"It depends on what you build it for, and what materials are used. In this case I use redwood rods that are tied together with twine made from red hair. It’s completely decorative."
"That's creepy," Beatrice replied. "How do you get the hair."
"My hair still grows. I cut it once a month."
"You keep your own hair?" Beatrice said with a sneer. "Is there like a drawer somewhere?"
Morrigan laughed, "No. Our usual custom is to burn it."
"Doesn't the smell bug you?"
Morrigan sighed, "You usually don't ask so many questions. Why the sudden interest in my faith."
"It's not sudden. I've always wanted to know."
"I don't just light a match and set it ablaze. It's a special flame. When it burns red hair, it works more like incense." Morrigan took her lighter, sparked a flame, and took the flame into her hand. She brushed it along the frayed ends of hair on the ladder, filling the room with the smell of spice.
"That's cool, I guess." Beatrice said. Morrigan noted the tone of her voice, as if she wasn't really listening.
"Go on then," Morrigan said. "Tell the truth."
Beatrice started to jitter, rocking back and forth, making the floor creak as she did. She forced the words out, "I may have been asked to assess you as a potential threat. I'm so sorry."
Morrigan raised her voice, "What?"
"That's not why I came when you called. Someone in Siegfried found out I was headed here and demanded it. They can make my life hell if they wanted."
"I'm not mad." Morrigan began. "I'm confused. Why would I be a threat?"
"The Fiery Lock is one of the most dangerous cults in the world. You're not a member anymore, but you're still faithful, so..."
Morrigan scoffed, "Cult or not, that's persecution." Morrigan took the ladder and hovered it over a wide metal cask. She took the lid off. The red hue of blood made Beatrice back away.
"No worries. The blood is also mine." Morrigan giggled as she dipped the ladder into the cask. The ladder soaked in the blood for several seconds before Morrigan lifted it.
As she did, she felt the static manifest. It felt like a bubble surrounded the ladder. When Morrigan pulled away from the cask, letting the ladder hover over the floor, Beatrice lunged forward to prevent anything from dripping. Morrigan laughed again, shaking her head. "I'm still a cultist, yes, but I'm not affiliated with them. Tell the military goons to back off. If I meant harm, I wouldn't be so helpful."
Drops of blood fell from the bottom of the ladder, then hovered in the air. The drops lifted and dropped, dancing around the structure of the ladder in intricate spirals.
Morrigan searched for the door knob, stepped outside her apartment, and felt along a decorative pillar for a hook. When hung, the ladder gently swayed, drops of blood lifting and merging with the others.
"Does have a beauty to it, I spose." Beatrice said. "Like a horror movie lava lamp."
Morrigan smiled. "Thank you. Do you have the time?"
"2:30," Beatrice replied
"I need to get ready then."
"Oh, do I get to meet him?"
"If you like, though, I imagine he'd be a bit uncomfortable if I showed up with another person." Morrigan paused, blinked, and chuckled. "Yes you should definitely come."
Beatrice gave a grin, "Why do you torture him."
Morrigan replied, feeling for her coat and putting it on, "I'm not really sure. He's easy to get flustered."
"Why even date him in the first place?" Beatrice replied while sliding on her shoes.
"People who believe so strongly in their grasp of reality rarely gain the candlelight." Morrigan stepped out of the apartment, "He's cute, and I figured since I was guiding him into our world, it couldn't hurt."
"So, he's just an experiment?" Beatrice laughed, guiding Morrigan down the stairs.
"Maybe he was, but not so much now." They began the short walk to the park.
"Did the dream go well? You gonna tell him the truth anytime soon?" Beatrice asked.
"I will have to eventually. I'm not heartless." Morrigan replied. "He's not ready. He didn't even mention the dream."
"You're into some weird shit. I don't know what he saw, but I'd probably be reluctant to tell someone about it to. Dont break the boy. Make sure you do it soon."
"I'm working on it," Morrigan said, "He won't-" she stopped, the scent of cologne reaching her nose, a smell of citrus, musk, and spice. She couldn't tell if it was really him, but it was close.
Beatrice laughed, then asked, "Where is he?"
"Curly hair. He's rather thin." Beatrice was silent, then snickered. "What? You don't approve?" Morrigan asked.
"He already found you," Beatrice said, "I though you said he was having trouble."
"Hey," Tyler said.
Morrigan gave him a tight hug, took in the scent, and replied, "Hey you."
"Have we met?" Tyler asked.
"This is Beatrice," Morrigan said. "She came to help me out after I fell."
"I'm glad you're okay," Tyler said
"I'll leave you two be, then," Beatrice said. "Will you be all right from here on out?"
"I should be fine," Morrigan replied, taking Tyler's arm and giving it a light squeeze.
"I'm counting on you to make sure she gets home, boy," Beatrice said. "I don't care how much she complains."
"Beatrice," Morrigan warned.
"I know. Got a long drive ahead of me. I'll see you later."
"A proper date, then? I wouldn't mind a drink," Morrigan said. "You couldn't imagine how difficult a caretaker Beatrice can be."
Tyler gave a chuckle as they started walking, "She's a little intimidating."
"Yes." Morrigan replied. They approached Tyler's car, and he opened the door to let her in.
As the car reached the main road, Morrigan spoke. "I expected more mess." She kicked her feet lightly to feel for any trash that may linger on the floorboard, and scoffed. "Did you clean it before you got here? That's cheating."
Tyler laughed. "I don't even eat in my car. Don't need to clean if you never make the mess."
"No smoking either, I wager," Morrigan said.
Tyler replied, "I don't smoke."
Morrigan sighed, "I hope it's not a problem that I do." Silence followed, broken by the sound of Tyler cracking the passenger side window for her.
"What a gentleman," she said. She reached into her coat pocket and pulled a cigarette from a half empty pack, "It's been days."
"Not sure why, but I actually like the smell," Tyler said, focusing on the road as Morrigan took a drag.
"Really?" she asked after blowing the smoke toward the window.
"Some brands smell better than others, but in general, yes."
Morrigan felt along the crack in the window, strategically angling the cigarette out and flicking the ash off the tip. Tyler waited, giving her a chance to stall his questions with further conversation. It was nice to learn something about her, for a change.
"Well?" She said, her face vacant as she sat back in her seat.
"What?"
"You're not asking questions," Morrigan said.
"It's a date, right? I'll have time for that later."
"That means no demands for answers," Morrigan groaned.
"Ah," Tyler said as he pulled into the bar's parking lot. "I'm sorry, but I won't be falling for it."
Morrigan nodded, stifling a smile. Tyler parked, stepped out, and walked around the car to open the passenger side door.
"Well, this is certainly a welcome change," Morrigan said as she stepped out, "You’re not planning anything diabolical, I trust."
"Not at all," Tyler said."I guess I'm willing to just let it be, for now, at least." She nodded as Tyler opened the front door of the bar. "After you."
Wowza. There's so much to say this time. Beginning with the typos. You lowercase "cash" so it doesn't come across as a name. You use "id" instead of "I'd". And a few other small things that I lost track of as I read. Second, your description of Morrigan and Beatrice had me slightly confused for a moment as it felt like it was coming from Tyler's perspective, not Morrigans. I'm not certain why, but that was really confusing and slightly concerning. Tyler says "don't need to clean if you don't make a mess," right? Because that's not in quotes and that feels out of style for the narrator to say. Other than that, I like this chapter, though it kind of feels like an abrupt ending. You easily could have kept going without making it feel too drawn out before getting to a reasonable stopping point. Breaking up chapters is hard, however, so it's hard to say what would've been best. Great work again.
Had to split this chapter down the middle. It was originally 3k. I'm not that mean. I'll try to find a better breaking point, fix those typos, and other errors. I was really trying to finish this one and got rushed. :/ that is my bad.