The Corpus Grimoire part 2

Alysa Saraki stood outside a dark, four story complex that no longer had any living residences. The asylum was originally built in a Kirkbride style, with narrow halls, long wings that spread out like a bat, and high ceilings to allow movement among patients and staff, but when it was remodeled in the 50s, it was flattened out and sterilized into a cubic shape with open floors. It was a hideous building that had been abandoned for decades and, like many areas of Winghaven, was rumored to be haunted. Alysa went inside.

In the only area of town that might be considered affluent, Farrell Creed and the two witches stood outside a darkly painted, three story house with a gate. It was one of the few high end houses in Winghaven, its owner unknown to most of the public. Inside, loud music blared and shadows moved past the windows on all floors. “Looks like Athame’s here,” Creed explained to the two women accompanying him, “We don’t have a lot to go on, so I’d rather be invited inside. We can get rowdy later, if we need to.” “Suits us just fine,” Janey told him.

The buzzer on the gate was pressed and soon, a voice could be heard, “Yeah, whadya want?” Creed looked into the camera while Valencia and Janey playfully made out behind him, “Heard there was a party,” Creed thumbed toward the witches behind him, “I brought my girls. We got business or what?” The gate unlatched remotely and the three of them were allowed through, then it closed behind them. Once inside, they saw a crowd of people, wall-to-wall. Victor Athame’s music was pounding from massive speakers and the party-goers were enjoying the festivities. As they pushed their way through the crowd, they found a flight of stairs being guarded by a man in a black jacket.

“I’m guessing either Athame or the book is up there, considering it’s guarded,” Creed explained, “Same plan as before.”

“You’re gonna pose as our pimp again?” Valencia asked, “It’s more than a little demeaning.”

“If it gets us where we need to be, I think it’s worth it. If nothing comes of it, you can just kick my ass later.”

“No, you’d enjoy that too much,” Janey said with a smirk before taking Valencia’s hand and walking her to the guard, “I think we can keep him busy.”

They silently walked toward the man in the black jacket and as he began to speak to them, Valencia placed a finger to his lips. Both women leaned on his shoulders and began whispering something in his ears. Creed wasn’t sure what it was, but he noticed the guard quickly falling into a trance. Wasting no time, he passed them and made his way up the stairs. Once at the top, he came to a door and when he opened it, he saw a loft with a table containing drinks and elicit substances as well as multiple sofas where bandmates, associates, and groupies sat. A leather chair was at the far end where Victor Athame sat. He was a short but muscular man with long dark hair tied back. On his lap was a groupie giving him a dance. Athame peeked over the girl’s shoulder once he noticed Creed in the doorway. “Hey!,” Athame pushed the girl off his lap and onto the floor.

“Sorry Vic, I just came up to ask a question,” Creed explained, “Read any good books lately?”

“The fuck I pay security for?” Athame pointed to a large, bald man leaning against the wall, “Frank, get this guy outta here!”

“Yeah, Frank,” Creed cracked his knuckles, “Get this guy outta here.”

Frank charged forward with a punch, but Creed side-stepped while catching his arm. His other hand held the back of his shirt and then he spun around, sending Frank down the stairs. Frank hit most of the steps on the way down before coming to an unconscious stop at the foot. “You okay down there, Frank?,” Creed called down mockingly, then turned to Athame, “Hey man, I dunno if Frank’s okay.”

Still seated, Athame tried to reach something under his chair but Creed already had his gun trained on him, “Nah, don’t do that.” Athame complied and slowly sat back with his hands up. The other men in the room did likewise while the groupies silently slunk to a far corner. With the room secured, Valencia and Janey entered the room and once they did, Athame turned into a deer caught in headlights.

“Oh shit,” Athame seemingly tried to sit back even farther in the chair.

“Yeah, you recognize them, huh?” Creed cocked his head toward the two women.

“What do you people want?” Victor exclaimed in a near-panic.

“Janey, I think we might’ve gone too far,” Valencia told her partner with mock concern.

“He’s fine. He’s still in one piece,” Janey crossed her arms and glared at him, “Although, that can always change.”

“I dunno what they did to ya, man,” Creed began, “But I know these chicks well enough to know it probably wasn’t good. They think you stole one of their books and all ya gotta do is say yes or no, otherwise, they’ll probably do a lot more stuff.”

“I haven’t had anything to do with them since…,” he trailed off, “Look, I said I was sorry.”

“I heard you were after the Corpus Grimoire,” Creed told him, “That true?”

“I-I had a girl who said their coven had it and I just asked if it was for sale.”

“Then you stopped asking,” Janey snapped, “And that’s when you crossed a line.”

“Yeah, okay, whatever, but I let it go after that. Why’re you still bothering me about that shit?”

“Someone stole it,” Creed answered.

“Whoa, hey! That wasn’t me, alright? Told ya I let it go.”

“You won’t mind if we look around then,” Valencia didn’t wait for a response before she and Janey produced wooden wands from the black bags they carried over their shoulders. They waved the wands at the walls as they glided across the room.

“The hell are they doing?,” Athame asked.

“Don’t worry `bout it, let’s chat,” Creed responded, “It’s apparently well-known among the covens that you’ve been after the Corpus Grimoire. Maybe you didn’t steal it but you might know who else is interested?”

Valencia and Janey whispered to one another before moving to a different room to continue their search.

“That book’s legendary,” Athame began, “Lots of people are interested,” he grew bitter, “There’s even counterfeit shit out there that made me lose-”

“Yeah, I’m not asking about edgelords like you who want it for validation,” Creed interrupted, “I’m asking if anyone legit went looking for it. Maybe you crossed paths somewhere?”

“Okay,” Athame relaxed a bit, “I met this one chick, dunno if she was a witch or what, but she showed up at my house in Pasadena like a month ago. She knew I had a place here in Winghaven and was asking about it. Said the Corpus Grimoire wasn’t too far from here and that she knew I wanted it. She honestly asked me to steal that thing or get someone to do the job. I said no `cause I didn’t want any more trouble. We talked a little more and then she left after that.”

“What’d she look like?”

“Some old hippy. Flowers in her hair and everything. Had a weird accent like Russian or German or whatever.”

“You said you talked about other things. Sounded like she was interested in Winghaven and knew you had an idea about the town.”

“Yeah, she asked a lot of questions about trap houses and what buildings were haunted. No idea why. Didn’t ask.”

“What’d you tell her?”

“I told her the asylum was probably the most haunted place in town and then she left.”

In another area of town, Alyssa stood in an old operation theater, illuminated by a single flashlight resting on a rusted metal cabinet. The floor was a hideous, green color and was cracked and broken in several spots. Lobotomies were once carried out in that room and the psychic trauma from decades-past still lingered in the air for those inclined. Alysa stooped down on the floor and spread her fingers a few inches from the dusty surface, feeling the pain and fear from the patients that had passed away long ago. She knew many of the souls were still in the building as they were too restless to pass on. It was possible some of them knew what had transpired between Grace Smith and the mysterious woman, but she had no way of asking.

Iseda forbade the practice of conjuring spirits or communicating with the dead so while she could sense them, she had no knowledge of how to speak to them. Part of her wondered if she should be entertaining the thought at all but then, she questioned if she was still a follower of Iseda. As she contemplated her next action, she heard a familiar voice behind her. “You’re just gonna let my big ass sneak up on you like that?”

She spun around and found Creed standing over her with a smile on his face. She jumped up and wrapped her arms tightly around his waist. After some explanation from both sides, they realized that the woman who had the Corpus Grimoire stolen was likely the same woman who found Grace. “It’s not a coincidence we both got a case involving a lady with flowers in her hair, heading to the asylum,” Creed explained as they walked downstairs, “We’ll find out what all this means.” They retired to the lobby downstairs where Valencia and Janey were preparing a ritual. “They’re the ones I told ya about,” Creed motioned toward the two ladies.

“So ya’ll witches?,” Alysa asked curiously.

“Not to worry, sweetie,” Janey told her jokingly, “See, there are good witches and there are bad witches.”

“But no witches are ugly,” Valencia added.

“Ignore `em. They’re weird,” Creed grumbled.

“You loved us once,” Valencia said with a knowing smile.

“More than once,” Janey added, also with a smile.

The witches had untied the cingulums from around their waists and used them to take measurements on the floor before drawing a summoning circle in black smudge. Next, they removed some candles and lighters from their bags.

Alysa noticed the items and turned to Creed, “Are they gonna do a seance?”

“Yeah, they figure communing with the ghosts here might reveal someth’n. There’s a reason why that witch brought your friend here and it has something to do with the Grimoire.”

Alysa leaned and whispered with a humored expression, “So which one did you date first?”

Creed appeared embarrassed, “Kinda dated both at the same time.”

“What, you cheated?” she asked offensively.

“I ain’t ever cheated on nobody,” he snapped.

“Wait,” her eyes widened at the realization, “So ya’ll…”

“Can we change the subject, please?”

She leaned in further, whispering even quieter but with a wider smile, “You were in a throuple?”

“Weird time in my life. Let’s move on.”

She shook her head and laughed, “I just didn’t know you got down like that is all.”

“I’ll pay you anything to talk about something else.”

Valencia stood up and wiped the black smudge from her hands, “We’re ready.”

The four of them held hands around the circle while a candle held a flickering flame at each point of the star in the center. Valencia and Janey emitted high-pitched moans and began to sway. Alysa knew Iseda wouldn’t allow this but as she was never going to be a priestess, she wondered if it should even matter to her. “We welcome the present dead,” the witches said in tandem, “We mean no harm, we only seek council.” They repeated this and Alysa could sense movement in the old building. The witches continued to repeat the mantra and the flames flickered harder. At once, Valencia’s head dropped and Janey’s head rose up. Alysa and Creed remained quiet as Janey whispered, “No one say anything.”

“Why have you brought me here?” Valencia spoke in a deep voice while her head remained lowered.

“We need to talk to one of of the spirits here” Janey asked, “Could you tell us about yourself?”

“You may call me David. I was born in 1918. They sent me here 40 years later because they didn’t let me love the man I loved.”

“We’re sorry to hear that, David. My friends here think a young girl was brought to this building. Maybe she was with an older woman with a book of spells?”

“There was a woman. Perhaps middle aged. She wore flowers in her hair and dressed in a white gown. I think she was Romanian.”

“Why’s that?”

“I recognized her accent. It favored the one my parents had.”

“Was anyone with her?”

“Yes. A young girl was with her. Blonde. Very sad. I’m not sure what was wrong. Perhaps she was sick?”

“Did they have a book?”

“No. No book. The older woman performed a ritual. Like this one, but different.”

“How so?”

“All of us here were delivered into the girl and then taken out. It’s hard to explain, but I’m sure it wasn’t a possession. It was in and out, as if passing through a tunnel. We weren’t sure why it was happening, but it was terrible for all involved save for the woman in the white gown.”

Alysa remained silent but she began to worry.

“What about the girl?” Janey asked.

“The ritual did something to her. It made her stop being sad. I think it made her stop feeling much of anything.”

“Thank you, David. Is there anything you need from us tonight?”

“I would like you to leave.”

“We’re gone.”

Janey let go and clapped her hands. Valencia slumped forward and caught her breath. “What the hell happened to Grace?” Alysa asked as she stood up.

“If I had to guess, it was the Three Sorrows Ritual,” Janey answered as she helped Valencia to her feet.

“Meaning?”

“It’s a transfer spell, used to move large amounts of energy into a vessel. If someone is handling something dangerous, they can imprint it onto a person or animal if need be.”

Valencia regained her strength, “The first step is that they have to be mentally prepared, void of sober thought or mental distractions. Hallucinogens are often used but if it’s a young person already hooked on drugs, it makes things… easier. Faster.”

“Shit,” Alysa muttered, “That’s why the witch visited Grungy’s place. She was looking for someone with the right headspace and Grace was probably high at the time. She was ready or whatever.”

“What’s the next step?” Creed asked.

“Next,” Janey continued, “They have to be spiritually cleansed, which often involves spirits passing through the body to remove spiritual blockage. Think if it like an enema for the soul. That sounds like what happened here tonight.”

“Is Grace okay?” Alysa asked in a panic.

“If it’s any consolation, this witch needs her alive. And this ritual is something that is normally done over the course of days, so there’s still time.”

A tear ran down her cheek “Just tell me how this thing is supposed to end.”

Janey was hesitant but responded all the same, “Last, the vessel has to be broken physically through severe pain. That’s when the power enters the host.”

“Three Sorrows,” Valencia explained, “The psychological, the spiritual, and the physical.”

“The ghost said he didn’t see any books so they apparently didn’t have the Corpus Grimoire with them tonight,” Creed scratched his beard, “And according to Athame, the witch was looking for someone to steal that shit for her. Maybe whoever stole the Grimoire hasn’t handed it over to her yet. Is it possible she needs the book in order to complete whatever spell she’s casting?”

“That’s a possibility” Valencia responded.

“And if she can’t finish the spell without the book, then there’s time to find the person who has it and stop them before the hand-off.”

Alysa was silent and obviously troubled. Creed placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, “We’re gonna find Grace.”

“I know,” Alysa responded sadly, “But I also know that, when the time comes, I might not like what I see.”

In a cheap hotel room, a locked suitcase sat against a wall. Inside the suitcase was a large, ancient manuscript bound by leather with no inscription other than a gold leaf drawing of a circle with three interlocking symbols from different parts of the globe. Each page was written in a language few could recognize, but it was somehow decipherable to any who read it.

Not that the book’s keeper was aware of what was written inside. He was hired through a criminal channel on the East Coast to steal a book from a coven and bring it to a town called Winghaven. He knew very little about magic and, as he was raised Catholic, it made him apprehensive to be in possession of a book of magic. Opening it was out of the question. But it was a job. He was a wanted man in the US and he had to take any job he could to escape the country. Stealing a book and handing it off to a strange woman with flowers in her hair seemed easy enough.

Mano was sure he would return to Costa Triste with no trouble.

Continued…