Black Becomes You

                Moonlight striped its way along the ground, drifting between the window slats and glowing unnaturally bright. It lit up the room containing overturned furniture and a person in the darkest, farthest corner.

His waxen face looked toward the ceiling with sightless eyes. The pale skin stood out in stark contrast to his torn black clothes and the blood marring both. The room was in shambles; however the onlooker’s gaze was for only his prone form.

                Her hand found the doorframe and gripped it while her other hand went slack, releasing a bag of lasagna and a bottle of wine. The sound of the plastic and glass crashing to the floor was muted in the face of what she saw.

                She called his name, but again the sound seemed muted. She stumbled closer and gripped his hand.

                She screamed his name and suddenly she was scared to touch him. Her hand had found no warmth in his, his eyes did not look toward her, his mouth did not smile. He was no longer here and she was left with nothing but his previous encasement.

                She sat a bit away, so as not to touch him, but she couldn’t quite separate who he was from the corpse at her feet. Tears slid down her cheeks and snot dribbled from her nose, but she paid them no mind.

                This was how the police found her when they arrived.

                A neighbor in the apartment complex had looked in through the open doorway and, not sure what she was seeing, called the cops and locked herself in her own apartment.

                After they arrived everything was a blur to her. When they dragged her away from his body she realized that it was the last true connection to him she would ever have again. When they let her go since her alibi checked out, she took leave from work and sat by herself all day amidst photo albums and items of his. She constantly twirled her engagement ring.

                The phone rang, like it had a thousand times before since the murder.

                The answering machine played her friend’s voice as she spoke.

                “I know you’re there! Seriously, you can’t do this to yourself. Let me help you, or I swear to God I’ll break down your door and force it on you. I’ll be by with supper tomorrow night.”

                Help me? she thought. How in the world could she help me? The only thing I want is to have him back.

                It was that last thought that dwelled in her mind as she crawled into bed that night and it was that thought that gave her enough hope to allow her friend into her house.

                “You need a shower,” her friend commented while hugging her. “Come, let’s go eat.”

                A huff was her only response and she silently followed her friend into the living room.

                “It’s okay, right? I brought your favorite,” her friend asked, fidgeting.

                There was a pause, then, “I’d brought him lasagna. That night.”

                Her friend’s mouth opened and shut again, trying to come up with a response before settling on, “Oh hon’,  I’m so sorry. I should’ve brought the traditional pizza and tub of ice cream and movies.” When she didn’t reply her friend continued. “So, um, do you have clothes for the funeral? I could lend you a black dress if you don’t have anything.”

                “Gods no. The last thing I want is to wear one of your dresses. I’ve been wearing black since that day, but for the funeral I’m wearing my skimpy black dress and hooker heels. Gotta give him one last look at what he’s missing,” she laughed humorlessly. Standing, she shoved the untouched lasagna on her plate back into the pan.

                “I’m… going to bed. Thanks for coming over.” She walked to her bedroom and turned back just before entering. “You don’t think… magic exists right? What am I thinking? Of course not. See you at the funeral.”

                Her friend stood for a moment after she’d entered her bedroom and then gathered up the food. Her friend decided his death was taking a pretty big toll but that was normal and little things like what she’d done tonight would count and help her get back on her feet.

                Meanwhile, in her bedroom she had leaned against her peeling door and slid down to sit, looking across her room.

                “F**k,” she whispered, then shouted it in a release of emotions. She twisted her engagement ring off her finger and made to throw it, but in the end she slipped it back on.

                I wish he was still alive, was what she repeatedly thought.

                The next day she left her apartment to buy food and noticed the dingy occult shop wedged in between a thrift store and a tobacco shop. She wondered again if magic was real and figured it probably wouldn’t hurt to find out.

                Upon entry she noticed a musty smell, but despite that and the exterior it was surprisingly cheerful. Herbs hung from the ceiling and the afternoon sun lit up the small shop, glancing off stained glass and baubles. A dark haired woman sat behind the counter reading a book and smiled.

                “Welcome to our shop. How may I help you today?”

                “I need… I need to bring someone back.”

                “Oh, is this person lost? I can have my son scry for you, but he’s still learning so it’ll be vague,” the woman offered, as though it was the most natural thing in the world.

                “No, I mean someone who’s dead. Is that even possible?” Her voice seemed to loud for the small space, hopeful and desperate.

                The woman paused and her smile turned a little sad. “I have just the thing-“

                “Oh thank you, I’ll take it! No matter the-“

                “Tsk, I’m not done yet,” the woman interrupted. “I should warn you, the dead like being dead. If he turned into a restless spirit you may get him back, but those who have truly passed are comfortable where they are.”

                “He loves me, he’ll come back for me,” she stated confidently. “I’ll take whatever ingredients I’ll need, anything.”

                “Okay Love, but you’ll need to bring it back when you’re done,” the woman said, grabbing a hefty book and a bracelet. “Hold out your wrist.”

                She held out her wrist, eyebrows raised but compliant.

                “If you don’t return this tome in a week then the bracelet will constrict and you’ll lose your hand. The fee for this rental is five hundred and fifty please,” the woman stated with a smile, holding out her hand.

                She placed a card on the waiting palm in exchange for the book. “It’s credit.”

                “Thank you for your patronage, and please, stop by anytime.”

                “I’ll be back, and I’ll introduce you to my fiancé while I’m at it. I’m sure he’ll want to thank you.”

                The woman merely smiled and waved.

                With a bounce in her step, she forgot her original mission of finding sustenance and headed home. In her hurry she kept forgetting to look both ways before crossing the street and very nearly walked into a hole in the sidewalk where a grill had been removed for maintenance. Out of breath when she arrived at her apartment, she sat the book on her kitchen counter and opened it, exposing recipes. She fought the urge to put on an apron.

                A recipe for a fiancé, she thought, giggling, thumbing through the pages.

                “’To make a candlestick glow brighter,’” she read, “How useful back in the day, I’m sure. ‘To render thine enemy’s food curdled,’ ‘To cry small animals,’ ‘To have cat children.'” She impatiently turned the pages faster and faster and- “'To resurrect a human.'”

                Noting the recipe, which surprisingly looked like a cake recipe with an object added to it, she took out and mixed the food ingredients in a large bowl.

                “’Make sure it tastes good,’” she read. She stuck a finger in and licked it, noting that it really was cake batter for a chocolate cake. “It does. So now I need to chant these words and immediately throw an object of his or something he gave me in it.”

                She went into her bedroom to grab a shirt he’d left over, belatedly realizing he’d taken it the day before. Impatient to finish the recipe and with no other items she could remember off the top of her mind, she tugged off her engagement ring.

                Hand clenched over the bowl of batter, she chanted the words and then released her grip on the ring.

                She heard nothing. Literally, nothing. Sound had been muted for her and she felt her heart skyrocket in anticipation, beating faster than ever before.  Minutes passed and while sound remained held at bay, nothing else happened. Consternation rushed through her and she grabbed the spell book, rereading the spell. At the bottom, where nothing had been before, it said to bake the cake and eat it.

                If that appeared then the magic must surely be working, she thought, relieved.

                She shoved the cake in the oven and set it to bake at 350, preheating be damned.

                The minutes that followed until the cake was ready were filled with pacing, staring at the cake, and pacing some more. When it neared finishing, despite her impatience, she suddenly felt a tinge of fear. Sticking a fork in the cake to test its readiness could result in dough coming off the cake and therefore could disturb the spell and cause this whole escapade to fail! So she waited some more. And then more after that.

                When the cake’s pleasant aroma had a burnt edge to it, she took the cake out and immediately started eating it with a plastic spork from her drawer. She never found the engagement ring.

                After she had eaten the last few crumbs in the pan, she checked the book again. It said the spell was completed and had a disclaimer for any resulting accidents or happenstances and requested return to its owner. Not sure if this meant she needed to return the book for the spell to complete or not, she anxiously waited a bit before running to the magic store. Cars honked as she rushed in front of them, people yelled as she pushed past, however she couldn’t hear any of it.

                She rushed into the magic store and slammed the book on the counter. The woman looked up, smiled, and took the book, immediately causing the release of the bracelet.

                Sound came rushing back and she put her hands over her ears in a panic at the increased volume. She heard people, lots of people shouting and murmuring and sighing and squabbling, and then over it all drifted his voice.

                He was calling her name and asked, “Look at me.”

                She unclenched her eyes and looked up into the eyes of her fiancé. Suddenly almost disbelieving, she reached out a hand to touch him. Her fingers met his stubbly cheek.

                “You’re… You’re back!” she shouted and leapt into his arms. A soft smile lit up his face, but he gently disentangled her from him, keeping her hand in his, and shook his head.

                “I love you and-“ He paused.

                Worried, she gazed into his eyes with a question in her own.

                “Black becomes you.” He silenced her with a kiss she felt was bittersweet, yet she never wanted it to end because once the moment was gone, she feared he would be too.

                She opened her eyes for one last look and he stepped away, still holding her hand. He smiled and gave a small wave, fading away.

                She started to cry as her hand dropped to her side, empty and alone.

                “I love you, too.”

Reviews

[L0v3craft]

I wanna know the recipe for having cat children D=

This was truly interesting and your diction is lovely. I especially love the description of the dead fiance and how she found him, its a really great hook how you start the story. Though I'm still wondering who the murderer was and if the police found him/her? I think you should've at least found a closure there...unless you meant to leave us readers hanging? That's how I feel now D=

You know, somewhere in our messages you mentioned there be something in this I'd catch on (guess it was the cat children, bloody brilliant :P), and I was thinking the dead fiance was Chris Pohl from Blutengel (I thought you were going with a romance fanfic about the guy when I first started reading....YOU SHOULD! hehehehehe) because of how you described him, ya know, I was thinking you were going with the dead look of a vampire, but oh wells.

....there needs to be a vampire romance story like Twilight...but, ya know, only better and where vampires are actually goth and cool xD

Anyway, great write and thanks for sharing!

[selkietales]

Thank you for your review! And snap, I never even thought about the murderer... I'll have to edit him in somehow.
Oh, to have Chris Pohl... You're right, I should to a romance fanfic with him! Anywho, thanks again for the review :)

[SomeTypeOfArtist]

Great writing! I especially liked the intense imagery at the beginning. It made me feel some of the shock and terror that goes along with suddenly losing a loved one.

[TheMostSplendiferous]

Awesome! I loved the plot and the characters. The imagery was great as well. Nice job!

[Marie]

This is a very good, interesting story.I like the way the magic was performed. But I think for five hundred dollars she should have had him back for keeps. Still, I san see how that wouldn't have worked.

[words a la carte]

Very interesting. I like the cake recipe for bringing someone back. The end got a little confusing but it wasn't bad overall.

[Xerclipse]

A nice story about bringing someone back to the dead. Keep on writing!