《Like a Moth to a Flame》


 Prologue: The Beginning of the End

    ¡°We¡¯re done, Ada.¡± he says without looking at me. The words echo bouncing off the walls of my soul. ¡°What?¡± I quietly say, a crack in my voice. Derrick doesn¡¯t even look at me, he just walks to the closet and grabs his duffle bag. ¡°We¡¯re done, I am packing my things and I¡¯m leaving tonight.¡± I sit on the bed and stare at the wall across from me, the shuffling of his bag feels like sandpaper to my senses. Minutes of him packing, rummaging through drawers grabbing some clothes. The silence only broken with my sniffling. ¡°Why?¡± I finally say, silent tears streaming down my face. ¡°I don¡¯t know, this is just too much¡± he says off handedly. A flash of fear that there are ulterior motives, another person, makes my heart sink. My vision starts to go fuzzy with the heady mix of hurt and rage ¡°Because of one fight?! I do everything for you, I put up with everything you do for you, I have sacrificed so much for this and you just leave?!¡±At this point I am screaming. All of my emotions are a storm ready to destroy anything in its path.


    He finally looks at me, his eyes distant, like he is trying to not see the broken person before him. After another long pause of us not moving, hell for me not even breathing, ¡°I got you something, it reminded me of you.¡± He pulls out a book, ¡°Are you fucking kidding me?¡± I can¡¯t help but laugh at the absurdity of giving someone a breakup gift. It hands it over before continuing to back whatever else he can fit in the duffle and his backpack. I sit there clutching the book like a lifeline. The edges of the pages dig painfully into my palms, a comforting balm to the pain in my chest. ¡°I¡¯ll be back for the rest of it later¡± without another word or glance, Derrick is out of the door. Out of my life. As soon as I hear the door close, I fall apart and succumb to the void that was beckoning me since he spoke those words.


    Chapter 1: The Depths of Despair


    ¡°You should go to the springs, take your mind off things and read!¡± my boss urges me after telling them I didn¡¯t know what to do tomorrow on my day off. ¡°Yeah, you¡¯re right. I could use some sun, and who knows, maybe I¡¯ll drown¡± I say too casually for someone in my current emotional state, while clocking out. Luckily they match my dark humor ¡°Well I will be at your funeral, and the funeral of your ex after I murder him¡±. The singsong voice they used made me laugh, albeit the sound weird to me. I realize I haven¡¯t laughed in a while, if I had it was always hollow and empty.


    I get into my car, excited to go home and vegetate in bed until I do it all over again tomorrow. Shit I don¡¯t have food at home, I am barely eating as it is. Great, I have to go to the store, that task feels impossible. The weight of doing something other than existing is too heavy to bear. It¡¯s already hard enough putting on a brave face and going to work. Here recently I feel like I am practically crawling to my car with exhaustion after my shift. I am lucky to even shower at this point, which is only because of work. The realization that work is the only reason I am even functioning at all hits hard.


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    The boss is right, I need to take some time for myself. It¡¯s been three weeks, not that I need to be entirely over it, but at least start making some progress. Living like this is unhealthy. I have grieved and wallowed long enough, it¡¯s time to get myself together. Time for a change, a restart. Maybe I¡¯ll cut off all my hair? A tattoo sounds nice, so does redoing my whole closet. Redecorate my apartment, get rid of everything he touched. Scrub my house, my body, and soul of his memory. Jesus Christ Ada, maybe you just need therapy.


    A quick trip to the store for some food leaves me exhausted. I drop off the bags on the kitchen counter, take off my shoes and hang up my bag. I try to walk away, my bed calling my name, and realize I have some cold items to put up. I groan and debate on maybe just laying down for ten minutes. I have to do it, they¡¯ll go bad if I don¡¯t. With every inch of effort I could muster, for the cherry on top of the unexpected task, I finally got the groceries put up. Exhausted from the day I take off my clothes, slip on a huge shirt and climb into bed.


    I look over at my nightstand, the book Derrick gave me sitting on there makes me feel like that is where my heart is. That this is not my body and I am just existing in a vessel. I don¡¯t want to read more of it, first it¡¯s not good and second it¡¯s hard to read without crying. I shove the book into the drawer and slam it shut. Now that it¡¯s gone I can see that I left a bottle full of water and a protein bar. Morning me is so thoughtful, at this point I know how to work with this. The last three weeks have made this existence a well oiled machine. My mental health has been shit for a while, way before the break up, but this is a whole new level. This is something I haven¡¯t encountered before.


    I ignore the texts from family and friends, scrolling endlessly through social media, hoping for a text that¡¯ll never come, I finally put the phone down and drift to a numbing sleep. Wishing that it will last forever.

 Chapter 2: The Contract

    Bag packed with a new book, and the old one, I stare into the treeline ahead of me. I grip the steering wheel tighter, my knuckles gleaming white from the tension. Glimmers of the spring peek through the trees, the light a beacon. I notice that there are several other cars in the parking lot. A small feeling of relief that I won¡¯t be truly alone. I take a deep breath, trying to physically exhale my crushing thoughts of emptiness, and scoot out the car with tote in hand.


    The closer I get I can hear kids laughing and lots of splashings. Not going to be very peaceful, but who knows maybe the quiet is the last thing I need. The trees thin out as the sky opens up to reveal a modest spring, water near the shore an emerald blue that can be seen to the bottom. The crunch from the sand and rock mixture under my sandals brings so much comfort. The sound scraping against my soul with nostalgia of easier days. I relish in the memories of childhood and endless summer as I head farther down east of the spring. When I am satisfied with the noise level from the kids I settle close to the water¡¯s edge. I look up towards the tree line while spreading out my towel. A small building with boarded up windows hides behind some trees. From here I can see a modest porch, but no front door, just a black void revealing nothing of the inside of the building. Fucking creepy.


    Shoving away flashes of slasher movies and serial killers, I rummage in my bag and pull the plastic water bottle chilled with wine in it. I dig out my snacks and then reach for my new book. Instead I grab the old one, why the fuck did I even bring this? Frustrated with myself I shove it back in the bag and dramatically open my new book. Taking a big gulp, the bubbly sweetness washing away my anger immediately.


    After a few chapters, and a few too many sips, the sun starts to blister my skin. The spring¡¯s coolness sounds like the perfect sobering refresher. People around here say there is magic in spring waters, the veil between this world and the next is thin wherever a spring is found. The water can heal your soul or devour it. Right now, it can devour it.


    The water is freezing as I inch deeper and deeper, clearing my head of the wine instantly.  Eventually, unable to touch the bottom, I began to tread water. The middle is where the spring comes out of the ground. I make my way over as it is always breathtaking to see. I feel nothing though as I look down and see the massive opening under my feet. The opening cascade of stones and branches, the occasional fish swimming throughout. I was hoping to feel some relief, but I have to be patient with myself. ¡°This is a marathon not a race¡± I say outloud to myself, while floating on my back, staring into the now darkening sky. Rain starts hitting my face, the warmth of it welcoming. BOOM. A flash of lightning hits a nearby tree, fuck I need to get out of the water. I start swimming frantically towards the shore, luckily I had the sense to not wander too far out. Kids start crying as parents frantically try to pack up.


    Out of breath I make it to shore, the rain is still light but who knows when it will get worse. The lightning is the biggest concern for me right now. Wait, I''m feeling something. No emptiness. Fear makes adrenaline pulse through my veins. My instinct kicked in for survival. The rush of it brings me elation. I spot the cottage while gathering my things. It''s much closer than my car and it should be safer than out in the open like this. The wind starts to pick up, almost in answer to my curiosity.


    I beeline for the cottage, the increasing rain hitting my face making it hard to see. Tripping several times from my wet sandals, I finally make it to the porch. Catching my breath and clutching my aching chest, damn I need to take care of myself. I pull out my phone from the dry bag in my tote. The weather app shows that the storm will be gone in about twenty minutes, I can wait it out. I hesitate to stick with that plan as the empty void behind me feels like it is calling out to me.


    Well I am either about to find nothing or be the main character in the next horror movie. The adrenaline starts rising again, the pit in my stomach starts fluttering. I turn on my flashlight on my phone and head through the doorway, each step making my heart race faster.


    The rush falls to a quick thump as the room reveals nothing. Empty, just a giant open room with a back door entryway. The backdoor is missing too, showing that there are some old rusted drums and machinery. Moonshine, this might have been an old moonshine distillery. A common hobby that dates back generations around here. I would not be surprised if the increasing popularity of the spring made being at risk of arrest higher.


    Scattered throughout the open space are a couple of moldy boxes, an old wooden chair, a fair amount of cigarette buds, and several empty beer bottles. The fact that people had to have been here recently, most likely teenagers, somehow that makes this place less ominous. I scan the walls with my flashlight, and read to myself all of the different graffiti tags. Some are hilarious and make me chuckle. Others are unreadable, at least to me, and halfway through towards a corner I get to one in blood red paint.


    Something nibbles at the back of my mind, tellimg me to speak this one out loud. I rest my hand under the name, slightly touching it  ¡°Kalonymus Dozroth Rarker¡± The air starts to tingle and I quickly remove my hand. My palm pink in the flashlight, smarted by whatever that was.


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    ¡°Hello human¡± a deep voice comes from behind me. I freeze hoping that I was having an auditory hallucination. Maybe the water didn''t sober me up that much? A few seconds of silence pass, I still stand there frozen. ¡°Hello? Can you hear me?¡± the voice sounds agitated, like I bothered the speaker.


    It¡¯s time to be the cat and face my curiosity, I turn around pointing my flashlight towards the rest of the room. On the chair in the middle sits a very large¡­man? The voice was human like, whatever it is is huge and has horns. I shine my light towards that side, only making the room darker. As if all of the shadows in a ten foot radius all shoved into this building. A bright red cherry from a cigarette shines through the dark. I just stare at it, apparently I am begging to be murdered. For some reason my first thought is to say ¡°those are bad for you, they decrease your lifespan by twenty years.¡± He chuckles after taking a hit. Cooly, the new presence says ¡°I don¡¯t think I have to worry about that, besides it¡¯s a medicinal plant.¡± I can smell the weed now, ¡°oh cool, I smoke weed too.¡± I say awkwardly.


    ¡°Um..who are you?¡± I finally ask, trying to steady my voice. ¡°Kalonymus Dozroth Rarker, at your service.¡± He stands up while stating his name, the chair creaking under the movement. He steps into the light from my phone. A man easily several feet taller than me, his red horns almost touching the ceiling. Deep auburn hair, a shade darker than his horns, curling at the nape of his neck. He worn a black suit, way to nice for a place like this, the contrast almost laughable. He looked down at me, molten red eyes piercing me right on the spot. Threatening to burn me alive if I move. He smirks before taking a puff, clearly waiting for me to proceed with the usual manners of meeting someone.


    ¡°Um Adelia Howard, but you can call me Ada¡±, I give him a polite wave with my free hand. ¡°Well Ada, I have a deal for you.¡± He hands his joint to me, I take it because my stomach flutters at the risk of ingesting something from a stranger. ¡°I will give you anything you want for three months, in exchange for something priceless at the end¡± he says, taking the joint back. ¡°What? Like my soul?¡± I laugh lightly.


    He just shrugs ¡°Perhaps. That is the risk and it is up to my discretion.¡±


    ¡°oh, fuck.¡± a whisper under my breath.


    ¡°I will give you some time to th-¡±


    ¡°DEAL!¡±


    He looks shocked, ¡°most people take some time to think it over and weigh the cost and benefits.¡± I cross my arms, still pointing my flashlight up. The storm outside rages and fills the silence between us. I say sheepishly, ¡°you caught me at the right time of not feeling like something is important enough to hate losing.¡± He tilts his head slightly, confused at my eagerness. A wicked grin spreads across his face, as a challenge became clearly placed in front of him.


    ¡°So what do I sign a contract in blood? What even are you, a fairy godperson?¡± He scowls, he might be second guessing making a deal with me now. ¡°Sort of, let me give you my usual speech.¡± He gestures for me to sit in the chair. I walk past him, making too much space in between us. My instincts screaming to not go near him.  ¡°In exchange for something priceless I can grant you any wish for three months. There are rules: I cannot raise the dead, interfere with love, and I cannot harm another human by your request. Other than that, I can grant any wish and desire as soon as the contract is sealed.¡± He pulls out an ornate knife, the blade black and gleaming from the light of my phone. For some reason I am not scared, probably the weed and lack of inhibition for my safety at the moment.


    He continues ¡°the contract is sealed in blood¡± I laugh and say ¡°of course it is¡± he pauses hands in the air and clenches his fists. He makes a coughing sound and continues ¡°I am a High Demon, outside of my work I consider this well a hobby of sorts.¡± I nod not saying anything, trying to not annoy him further. ¡°With the contract sealed, I will only work for you. I am devoted to every wish and command. Hold out your hand¡± he commands, I obey. His large hands grip my wrist, not as hard as I expected, turning my palm facing up. He gently swoops his knife over my hand, the pain stinging every nerve in my body instantly. I tense up starting to retreat.¡±Don¡¯t¡± he commands softly. He cuts his hand, the opposite of the one he cut on me.


    ¡°Are you sure?¡±


    ¡°I-¡±


    I take a moment to breath, I could be imagining this? I could wake up from a nap on the beach right out there and realize it was all a dream. Or this could be real. This creature, well High Demon, in front of me offering something priceless.


    I blurt out ¡°yes¡± with a short nod. He grabs my hand and we shake them three times, the warmth of our blood flowing down my palm and into my wrist. Small droplets echoing as they hit the stone floor. Before he lets go of my hand he says ¡°I am yours.¡± The line sends chills down my spine.


    He let go, hovering his other hand over mine and the cut began to heal. The blood glistening on healed skin, as if the cut was never there. The cut in his hand burns red, a symbol appearing above it in the air. It looks like an ancient rune, an hourglass on its side with an x on one side and a slash on the other. The sigil disappears, leaving an amulet in it¡¯s place. It falls with a quiet clink of the chain into his palm. The black onyx amulet wrapped in ornate wire, the same rune engraved on the stone. He walks behind me, I sit up straight and rigid with his movement. He croons ¡°relax, you are safe.¡± His words melt into my shoulders, easing the tension. How the fuck did he just do that?


    He unclasps the necklace and puts it around my neck. His fingers brushing lightly sending chills down my spine, making me want to move away from his touch. Or even worse, embrace it. ¡°This will let me know where you are and if you need me. The moment you desire something, I will appear, no matter how small it may be. This can get annoying for both of us, so just squeeze the stone if you don''t actually need me.¡± he says backing away ¡°I have some things to attend to and prepare for my absence, I will see you soon Ada.¡± He disappears and I am alone in the cottage.


    The rain has stopped, the birds outside begin to sing. I sit feet planted, unwilling to move. I move and this becomes real. A say outloud to the shadows now creeping back to where they came from ¡°what the fuck was that?¡±