《Charlatan》


 The Witch in the Alley

    The small room is cast under a candlelit glow. Glittering jewels cascade from the ceiling linked by thin silver chains, wisps of cedar wood scented smoke curl through air from small incense sticks laid out on crystal stands.


    I inhale deeply and close my eyes as if deep in thought.


    ¡°Um¡­¡±


    An unsure voice cuts through the absence of my thoughts. I exhale and count.


    One¡­ two¡­ three¡­


    I cast my eyes upon the woman sitting across from me. Careful. Upwards angle. Not wide open, around three quarters.


    An excitable looking middle-aged looking lady looks back at me.


    ¡°May I ask my questions now?¡±


    I nod.


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    A few hours later, my last customer of the day leaves happily, with a new talisman adorning her wrist.


    I stretch my arms out and sigh. Removing the thin black veil covering the lower portion of my face, I took a sip of water that was hidden beneath the flowing maroon tablecloth.


    I had spent the session answering the usual suspects,


    ¡°Will I find love again?¡±


    ¡°Will I make money soon?¡±


    ¡°How are my parents doing?¡±


    and so forth.


    Of course, the answers have to be a sufficient mix of positive and negative. If it¡¯s all negative, it would simply scare the customer off, and they would go to someone else who would tell them what they wanted to hear. If it¡¯s all positive, then there¡¯s no way for me to sell them a talisman to ward off ill health/bad luck/terrible lovers right?


    But obviously, to do all this in the first place I must earn the customer¡¯s trust as a basic necessity. This is where the skill comes in.


    Yes, I¡¯m what you would call a charlatan. A twitch of an eyebrow here, or a slight tilt of the lip there and that tells me more about you than you probably want me to know. Cold reading is what I earn my keep with.


    Of course, to my customers [victims] it¡¯s a magical experience where someone who knows them better than themselves is able to guide them along the right path in life, in accordance to how the cosmos wills them to be¡­ or at least, that¡¯s what I tell them.


    I work in a small storefront in a back alley, with a simple wooden sign in front that says ¡°Clairvoyant¡± and in small letters underneath ¡°Tarot, Ba Zi, Crystal Ball¡±.


    In the couple years I¡¯ve been here I¡¯ve built a reputation in the area of being accurate with my readings, that is to say, I¡¯ve gotten good at reading the people that come by, especially my regulars. Hell, people have been calling me ¡°The Thousand-Eyed Witch¡± which honestly, I¡¯m not quite sure how to take...


    Usually, after a day of work, I go to the local small bar, have some dinner and a drink or two then go home. It¡¯s a nice little spot a few blocks away from where I work at, much too ¡°blue collar¡± for any of my regular clients to be at, and on the off chance I bump into someone who knows me in a professional capacity there they usually don¡¯t recognize me anyways. More often than not, my clients see me more as a ¡°figure¡± than an actual ¡°person¡±. That is actually more convenient for me. It¡¯s easier to convince clients of your abilities if they think that you aren¡¯t quite the ¡°same¡± as them.


    As I idly cleaned up the items littered around the shop that I used for my fortunes, thinking about nothing in particular, my cell phone buzzed. I pull it out of my pocket and the notification banner reads:


    Aria: Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeey~ Are we still gud for tonight >u<


    Urgh.


    Before I can even unlock my phone to reply a successive cacophony of buzzes sounded.


    Aria: Hey.


    Aria: Heyyy


    Aria: heEy


    Aria: He


    Aria: Heoey


    Aria: hei


    Aria: we


    Aria: gud?


    To silence the noise, I quickly reply


    Yes yes, I¡¯ll see you soon


    Aria: Ok!!!!!!!!!!!!! I¡¯ll c ya!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Dont be late again!


    I sigh deeply. I know she doesn¡¯t mean poorly, and I¡¯m grateful that she consistently invites an antisocial weirdo like me out, but simultaneously I also know that she spams me because she knows it¡¯ll annoy me.


    Aria is one of my closest friends from high school, she knows me as well as anyone. She was always the bubbly, happy girl and had plenty of friends, with a different hair color every few months, yet she always went out of her way to include me or greet me or insert herself into my life. For that, I will always be grateful to her, no matter how annoying she can be.


    I finish locking up and pull down the steel shutters from the outside.


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    ¡°Miiiiirrrryyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy¡±


    I look up from my phone and see Aria running towards me. She has an athletic, lean build, slightly shorter than me. Her cheeks were flushed and her hair was messy from what I assume was her running all the way here. I put my phone away and face her.


    ¡°Sorry sorry! The club meeting ran long!¡±


    ¡°.... Weren¡¯t you the one who told me not to be late?¡±


    ¡°I knnnnnnow I¡¯m sorry!!!!!!!!!!!¡±


    ¡°Well¡­ it¡¯s alright, I wasn¡¯t waiting too long anyways.¡±


    Aria brightens up with a smile and we head inside.


    It was a nice gastropub ¨C nicer than what I¡¯m used to at least. We were sitting in a corner booth and Aria had already ordered a round of drinks for us, along with some small finger foods.


    ¡°So Mirry, how¡¯s life?¡±


    ¡°Same as usual, nothing special to report.¡±


    ¡°Realllllly? Nothing special? No special person?¡±


    ¡°Nope, none at all.¡±


    This is the usual line of questioning that Aria starts off with, her eyes glittering with curiosity. And then she always says:


    ¡°Miriam, you¡¯re not getting any younger, you should find yourself someone cute to get along w- huh?¡±


    Aria stops as I recite her line with her as she says it. Staring at me in amazement she says,


    ¡°Wow! I guess you aren¡¯t a clairvoyant for nothing¡±


    ¡°No, you literally say the same thing every time.¡±


    ¡°Huh? Do I?¡±


    ¡°Yep.¡±


    I grin at her and she pouts, twiddling with her purple hair.


    ¡°I noticed you changed your hair color again. Don¡¯t you ever get tired of sitting in salons for hours on end?¡±


    ¡°Well¡­ it¡¯s a little boring, but the result is worth it don¡¯t you think?¡±


    Aria shakes her head left and right and her hair swishes along. It does look nice.


    ¡°But seriously, you¡¯re twenty-two now! Are you really going to be a fortune teller forever? It¡¯s not like you didn¡¯t have options.¡±


    ¡°Hey, I like my job, plus I¡¯m good at it.¡±


    Well¡­ the first part is a little bit of a fib, but who completely loves their job all the time?


    ¡°I can¡¯t deny that you¡¯re pretty famous around here¡­ even people from my circles have gone to see you.¡±


    ¡°Huh? They have?¡±


    ¡°But still! You could¡¯ve gone to any University in the world and made a crap-load of money!¡±


    ¡°Money isn¡¯t everything, Aria.¡±


    This is also a conversation we have in some variation almost every time we meet. She means well.


    ¡°Actually, this time I have this!¡±


    Aria whips out a business card.


    ¡°This is the contact information for my dissertation adviser! She¡¯s great! I told her a little bit about you and she said that if you were willing to meet and chat with her she could try to get you into our University! I know it¡¯s a bit beneath your level, but it¡¯s better than nothing.¡±


    I squint at her slightly. I¡¯m not the most public person, hell, all of my social media is devoted to my work without a hint of my private life. It doesn¡¯t make me the most comfortable to have my closest friend telling a stranger about me.


    ¡°I know what you wanna say, but just take it okay? Think about it! Promise me you¡¯ll think about it?¡±


    She looks at me with big giant puppy dog eyes. Her eyes always reminded me of the dog I had as a child.


    ¡°...You know I¡¯m weak to you when you look at me like that.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s why I¡¯m doing it!¡±


    ¡°Fine, fine, I¡¯ll think about it.¡±


    I take the card off her outstretched hand.


    ¡°Yesssssssssssssssssss!!!! Now with that out of the way¡­ Waiter! Could you bring us some shots?¡±


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    Urp.


    The third thing that always happens when I go out with Aria is she makes me drink way over my limits.


    I stumble down the dark street, illuminated only by the intermittent lights of the streetlamps.


    Sigh.


    Why do I always let Aria drag me into her pace?


    It¡¯s been that way since high school. Her relentless optimism, high spirits, and the fact that she is genuinely looking out for me always seem to break down my guard and make me do things I otherwise wouldn¡¯t do. It¡¯s not that I hate it or anything, if I did I wouldn¡¯t play along. I just seem to always have to pay for it in one way or another. Like me, now, stumbling home in the dark.


    As I silently lamented how weak willed I am when it came to her. I noticed someone walking in front of me. I rubbed my bleary eyes and blinked. Definitely someone in front of me. Curious, most people don¡¯t take this path (which is why I take it). It was a side road that had a large park lined with trees on one side, and the back side of the shops on the other. I couldn¡¯t quite make out what the person looked like from behind, due to the darkness and the copious amounts of alcohol in my system, but they seemed to slow down when I noticed them.


    I kept walking down the road, and although the figure was getting closer, the edges of my vision seemed to stretch out and the street seemed to become longer and the trees seemed to stop rustling. I shook my head, confident that it was simply the effects of alcohol messing with my perception. As I came within a dozen feet or so of the figure, I noticed something. Something odd. I couldn¡¯t seem to make out the figure at all, even though I was right behind it. It seemed to be¡­ smudged? As if someone took their thumb and smeared the figure across my vision. I blinked and rubbed my eyes again. Still can¡¯t see it. At this point my breath hitched in my throat and I shivered.


    When did it get so cold?


    It¡¯s a warm night in spring, I shouldn¡¯t be able to see my breath.


    I felt a deep set fear churn in my stomach. Not the normal kind of ¡°scared¡±, not like watching a particularly chilling horror movie or something like that. It was a fear that I had never felt before in my entire life, it felt like it was coming from the very core of my being, a fear that was written into my DNA, a primordial sort of fear. The entire surface of my skin felt numb. Something in my head screamed at me to turn around. Still, I kept walking forward.


    As I walked past¡­it, I tried to keep my eyes forward, deliberately attempting to ignore it. But, for some inexplicable reason, my eyes were still drawn to look at it out of the corner of my eye. What I saw made my blood freeze. I saw it¡¯s face, twisted, ugly, like some sort of Eldritch horror. Rows of teeth extending down where it¡¯s neck should be, dripping with saliva mixed with blood, dark black glistening eyes like an insect dotted it¡¯s face in a seemingly random pattern. It¡¯s breath steamed the cold aura it exuded.


    Then I ran.


    I ran as fast as I could.


    I ran while stealing looks behind me to see that I was leaving the creature behind me. It hadn¡¯t taken a single step since I passed it.


    I ran all the way back to the front of my apartment complex, panting and dripping with cold sweat. Every single one of my hairs stood on their ends. Glancing back down the road, my vision seemed to have returned to normal and the creature was nowhere in sight. For some reason or another, I suppose it determined that I wasn¡¯t worth chasing.


    With trembling hands, I entered my apartment where I promptly collapsed onto my knees in front of the door.


    This is too much.


    I¡¯m just a charlatan, a faker, I¡¯ve never seen or dealt with anything truly supernatural in my life.


    No. I still haven¡¯t


    I¡¯m sure that whatever that was, it was just a stupid hallucination conjured by my drunk mind.


    It¡¯s not real.


    It¡¯s not real.


    It can¡¯t be real.


    Telling myself this like a mantra, I slowly pulled myself off the ground and got myself into the living room and onto the sofa.


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    ¡°Excuse me? Miss Witch?¡±


    I looked up and focused on the client in front of me. This time it was a middle aged looking salaryman, still in his suit from work. He didn¡¯t look too good, his face was pale and his balding pate was drenched in sweat that he repeatedly dabbed at with his handkerchief.


    ¡°Sorry, what was it?¡±


    ¡°I was asking you if you take private requests for exorcisms.¡±


    ¡°For an extra fee, yes. But, I¡¯ll need you to tell me why you think you need an exorcism.¡±


    ¡°Do you know the side road? The one next to the park with the trees?¡±


    Fuck.

 Teeth

    Fuck.


    I forced an innocent smile.


    ¡°No, I¡¯m not too familiar with that street. What happened?¡±


    ¡°Well, about a week ago on my way home from the station, I decided to walk down the side road because it was a bit too crowded on the main street and I uh¡­ I¡¯m not quite sure how to explain this. I saw¡­ something.¡±


    ¡°...What did you see?¡± I asked reluctantly, already mentally bracing myself for the answer.


    ¡°Don¡¯t call me crazy, alright?¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°So when I was on that street, I saw this¡­ uh... Blur? Smudge? I¡¯m not quite sure how to describe it.¡±


    He looks at me helplessly, as if to gauge whether I¡¯m taking him seriously. I nod silently to encourage him to continue.


    ¡°When I saw it, time seemed to slow down around me¡­ I couldn¡¯t breathe right. It felt like my feet were in quicksand and I couldn¡¯t move at all. Even though I couldn¡¯t see it¡¯s face, I could almost¡­ feel that it had noticed me and as I became conscious of this it was suddenly right up in front of me. After that I think I must have fallen unconscious because I woke up on the asphalt a couple hours later.¡±


    I cleared my throat and spoke carefully so as to not betray my own anxiety.


    ¡°While that certainly does sound harrowing¡­ I cannot exorcise beings that are not bound to a specific location or item. It may just be a free wandering spirit that you happened to see. Your reaction to it does sound concerning, but I have a selection of talismans that can help you with this.¡±


    I really really really don¡¯t want to deal with this.


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    ¡°The thing is, after I saw it¡­ I couldn¡¯t stop seeing it¡­ I couldn¡¯t stop feeling it¡­¡±


    A cold sensation pricked down my spine and I bit the inside of my cheek to hold back a shiver.


    ¡°What do you mean by that?¡±


    ¡°I-I see it in my sleep, in my nightmares I can see its eyes watching me. Even though I couldn¡¯t see its face clearly before, I¡¯m certain that¡¯s what it is¡­ those beady, dragonfly-like eyes¡­¡±


    He draws in a shaky breath.


    ¡°Even if I wake up the nightmare continues, I can¡¯t move at all as I feel things crawling all over my skin. This goes on for an hour or two and then suddenly I can move again. I can feel it¡¯s presence when I¡¯m waiting for the train¡­ On my way home from work, even if I walk through a busy area I catch glimpses of that smudge in the dark alleys. I-I can¡¯t take it anymore¡­ I feel like I¡¯m going insane. Can you please¡­ please help me? Money is no object here¡­¡±


    He said this, growing increasingly distraught as he described his plight to me.


    I don¡¯t want to.


    I just want to leave this alone and pretend like I never saw or heard anything.


    My hesitance to answer must have betrayed my troubled thoughts, because the client quietly whispered with a trembling voice:


    ¡°Please.¡±


    The salary-man looks as though he hadn¡¯t slept since he saw the creature, his cheeks are hollow and his eyes weary. I notice that throughout recounting the story, he had held his left fist in his right hand. His nails have dug into the back of his hand to the point that it was drawing blood. At this point, I don¡¯t think selling him an ¡°anti-curse¡± talisman or some beads would do it for him, he would want to see some sort of ceremony with some ¡°weight¡± in order to satisfy him. But the problem in this case is, no amount of fake ceremony can actually make the creature disappear nor can it actually help this man. Either way, I¡¯m caught between a rock and a hard place. If I reject him outright, it looks as though the man would genuinely have a psychotic break. If I accept, I still wouldn¡¯t be able to do anything about it and at worst it would severely damage my reputation as a clairvoyant. I need to buy myself time to figure this out.


    I exhale wearily.


    ¡°Let me think about it.¡±


    ¡°Alright¡­ Thank you.¡±


    The salary-man smiles slightly, looking as though he expected this answer in the first place. He stood up to leave.


    ¡°Wait a moment.¡±


    He stops.


    ¡°Take this with you. It should give you at least some sort of protection from the supernatural and help with your nightmares.¡±


    I hand him a clear glass bead on a lanyard. Obviously it¡¯s simply a glass bead I purchased in bulk that I attached a lanyard onto, but at the very least I can give him some peace of mind and pretend that I¡¯ve tried something before I figure out how to get out of this.


    ¡°How much¡­?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it, it¡¯s on the house.¡±


    ¡°Wow¡­ thank you so much!¡±