FicWad

Ms. Lucille showed up twenty minutes later. Clothed in flowing garments of indeterminate patterns, she hid her eyes behind little round sunglasses and a veil of poker straight, jet black hair. She said nothing as she entered our tiny abode, just sweeping in a smell of jasmine incense and a tall, skinny boy with a mop of bleached blonde hair. He smiled awkwardly as he took us in, the odd couple huddled in the corner.

"Hey," he whispered, placing a heavy looking attach‚ case on the floor. "I'm Duff."

Smiling weakly, I give him a small nod before an accented voice calls, "Michael!"

Rolling his eyes, the blonde sweeps up the case and quickly moves to her side. Effortlessly, he holds the leather case open for his mistress, all limbs and hair as he looks everywhere but us. The woman's long fingers search, her bug-like eyes still scanning the room, taking us and whatever she's seeing in.

Finally, she pulls a tiny bottle out, fingers elegantly flicking hair from her face. Her skin is the darkest of mahogany brown, as if she'd been carved from the very trees of the Amazon and placed on this earth to scare the living shit out of poor souls like us. But if she was scaring us, then what was she doing to the spirits she was chasing? If it was Axl, probably not a lot, but we could live in hope.

The glass covered eyes flick round to us as she asks, "You boys been playing with the darkness?"

"You could say that," I reply, leaning against the wall as Slash rests his head beneath my chin.

She gives a small, dissatisfied snort and uncorks the bottle. "The Devil himself has trodden the boards of this room." A rustle of fabric and she kneels, placing the bottle on our bed. "Pure evil, a soul forever damned."

I feel my eyes widen with disbelief. "What?"

But she doesn't reply. Instead, she kneels over the bottle, hands cupped around it as if to hold in the scent of moss, cloves and old, rotting soil. Quietly she begins to whisper and I lean forward, fascinated as I try to decipher the strange language she's using. With my eyes on her, my hands gently carry on stroking Slash's head. He mumbles and trembles beneath my touch, eyes turning to mine for a moment. I smile weakly and bend, pressing a kiss to his temple. The dark brown eyes fall shut, a small smile playing on his lips.

A chill begins to flood the room, a light breeze causing the single lightbulb to swing back and forth, Shivering, I pull a blanket around us, watching as Duff pulls his long black and red trench-coat around himself. At least he came prepared. His face registers no emotion, eyes on the wall as the woman he follows works her magic.

Suddenly, the room is plunged into darkness, myself and Slash giving small moans of surprise at the sudden loss of light. The breeze picks up, lifting the hair from my neck, my hackles rising with it. I find myself reaching for Slash, pulling him deeper into my lap. He comes willingly, limbs curling around me, face burying itself in my neck.

The harsh white light of the bulb is slowly replaced by a glow. The same, luminescent green that I saw down in the bar curls around the floor, heading towards Ms. Lucille. Green tendrils, suddenly shot through with red, begin to curl around her, tangling around her legs and weaving into her clothes. I shiver as I watch it, making myself smaller, pushing myself closer to the wall.

The red and green tendrils loop and mesh with each other, flowing up and over the woman, over her face and, like an odd waterfall, into the bottle between her hands.

"What's happening?" Slash quietly whispers.

I gently touch his head, encouraging him to watch. He twists and I watch his eyes widen.

"Is this..." his voice dies and I nod, silently telling him that this mist was what I saw downstairs.

Up and over Ms Lucille it goes. She doesn't seem to notice it, head bowed and lips murmuring, voice hidden by the sound of the wind. It lights her in strange shades of red, green and muddy brown. Round her neck it flows, like some kind of glowing noose, the final ends looping around her fingers and into the bottle.

Instantly, she's on her knees, the cork stoppering the bottle. She looks at us, her head on one side, the bottle clasped in her hands. It seems to shudder, specks of green and red flickering through the dark glass.

"The basement," she hisses, dark eyes focused on us, "where is it?"

Pushing Slash from my lap, I stand and open the door, showing her the stairs. "Down there. There's a door beneath the stairs. You can get in there. Why?"

She looks at me, the expression on her face telling me that she thinks I'm stupid. I can take that, I can be perceived as an idiot. Besides, what do I know? I only play guitar in a bar.

"There is something in your basement. An entrance to another world." She holds the bottle up, sunglassed eyes flicking to it. "I need to send this on its way."

Sweeping her clothes up, she snaps her fingers and the tall blonde boy shakes his head, before following her. Shivering, I watch as they head towards the door.

"Entrance?" I weakly ask.

She stops and looks at me, nodding before gesturing to the door.

"Come. I'll show you."