\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
    December    
SMTWTFS
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
Archive RSS
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://writing.com/main/books/entry_id/1021807-The-Eavesdropper
Image Protector
by Seuzz Author IconMail Icon
Rated: GC · Book · Occult · #2183561
A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises.
#1021807 added November 19, 2021 at 1:01pm
Restrictions: None
The Eavesdropper
Previously: "Dee's DomicileOpen in new Window.

Whatever is going on—whatever miracle is keeping these two guys from reacting to your presence—is too good to last, so you edge toward the front door.

But Joe—Dee's twin, if he's not Dee himself—comes busting back in before you can make it outside.

"I know you're playing Br'er Rabbit and the briar patch with me, Frank," he bellows. "But I want you to know it won't work!" He throws the door closed, but you catch it with your toe so that it bounces back open. You glance back in fright, but Joe has joined Frank at the table. "You're just trying to trick me into staying and doing work instead of going back to hang out with Stephie!"

"I thought her name was Christine."

"I'm undecided between them. Christine's got that big-jugs-in-a-low-cut blouse thing going, but—"

"So why aren't you back at the party?"

"Because like I told you, Frank, your Briar Patch trick won't work on me! You want me to think you're okay with me going back to the party, so that I'll really stay here and do the work just to spite you!"

"So why'd you come back?"

"'Cos I know you'll fuck it up if you don't! I just don't want you thinking you put one over on me."

"You're too smart for me sometimes, Joe."

"Only always, Frank."

Your foot is still in the doorway, but now that you have a real chance to get away, you quail. You'd have to push the door open, and what if they noticed and then noticed you? There's other places to hide in the house. Maybe if you wait, you can slip past them later without making any fuss.

So you creep as quietly as you can backward into the dark living room. Your knees are aching from standing so still and rigid, so you gladly sink onto the sofa, to listen and sweat and wonder how the fuck you are getting away with all this.

From the other room you hear the rustle of paper and some short, brusque comments: "Weigh that corner down, will you, Joe?" "Watch your thumb." "We couldn't find a map with a bigger scale?" "Beggars and choosers, Joe." "I think you're off by a few degrees." "I think your brain's off by a few degrees!" "You see anything that looks like it might be an anchor point?" "I guess we can go out again and check it." (Your heart leaps at that one!) And finally, after a long silence, a deep growl from Frank: "I'm going to punch you so hard you'll have to peel your face off the kitchen wall."

"You see where it all points back to, Frank!"

"No, that's just an anchor point."

"It's an apex, Frank! I'd bet—"

"Bet what, cocksucker? Your chances with Christine and Stephie!"

"Oh, like you could collect if I lost! Any other place in this shit burg give off as much bad juju as—?"

"No, but there'll be at least two other apexes. If they're as bad as—"

"So we'll check 'em out tomorrow."

"In the morning? What time are we supposed to meet the guy and the girl?"

"I told 'em two, that'll give us plenty of time. And it'll just be the girl."

"What happened to the guy?"

"I happened to the guy, Frank."

There's a pause. Then: "Just how hot is this girl?"

"Bruh!" There's the sound of heavy panting. Followed by another, "Bruh!"

"Then what makes you think you shook him?"

"Thppht!"

You feel your mouth curl up into a rictus.

"So what do we tell them when we see them?"

"First, we're only going to be seeing her. Second— About you and me? We tell her you're my— Um— Here! We tell 'em I'm your soulmaster. As in, I hold your soul. Literally. It's in an egg and I hold it, and that means you're my—"

"That I'm your fucking slave," says Frank in a growl so low it practically makes the floor shake.

"Yeah! So we're gonna have to play it up, of course, I'm gonna have to, you know— And you're gonna have to—"

There's a quiet gasp, followed by a shriek. "Ow! Ow ow ow owww!"

"I'm going to have to do what, Joe?"

"Ow!"

"You're going to have to explain it to me carefully, Joe, because I don't—"

"Quit it, Frank! Okay! Uncle!"

"Okay. So now, tell me, what are we going to have to tell—?"

"Son of a bitch, Frank! Son! Of! A! Bitch!"

There's a silence, eloquent of unarticulated pain and fury, that ends only when Joe says, in a pinched voice, "I'll behave, Frank! I swear I'll behave! But I have to be the one in charge, I already told—"

"Then what are we going to tell the girl about the ley lines and the Brotherhood?"

"We'll tell her the truth, that we have to root them out, and that to do that we have to get their names and find their homes—"

"But what does 'rooting them out' mean?" Then before Joe can answer: "And what do we tell Dad?"

There's a longer silence. Then Joe says, "You think we can't handle a bunch of goatsuckers?"

"That's not our assignment."

"So we pick up a second assignment!"

"What do we tell Dad?" Frank asks in a deeper voice.

Joe audibly sighs. "We tell him we found a Baphomet circle. Like telling him will matter, because then he's going to—"

"He's going to send Rick down, Joe, that's what he's going to do. Now, how is Rick going to fit into this fairy tale you've been weaving for—?"

"I'll think of something! You know I'm good at—!"

He stops short. It takes you a moment to recognize the dry, coughing sound that comes next. It's laughter. "What's so funny, Frank?"

"I'm just trying to picture Rick going along with whatever fairy tale—"

"Then we keep him out of the way while she's around! Cheez Whiz, Frank!"

"Don't blaspheme."

"Oh, fuck off! You've been a pill, an utter pill about the—" They both start talking at once, and you can't make out any of the words until Frank says, "I'll let the fuck go when you take that finger out of my face. You know," he adds, "I could have put it someplace you really wouldn't have liked."

"Tssshhh! Sometimes it's like you're still twelve years old!"

"Where are you going?"

"To get me some soda! You want some too?"

"Please."

"The point is, Frank, this chiquita needs to be weaned off the junk! Yeah, I was mostly goofing with her at first, but her old man was into—"

"Yeah, you told me."

"—so I need to seriously put a scare into her!"

"Why don't you leave that to Rick?"

There's a pause. Then Joe, sounding very sober, says, "There's putting a scare into her, Frank, and then there's 'introducing her to Rick.' I don't think we need to go that—"

"Oh, you're hopeless."

"You just say that because Lurga's in the ascendant."

"Shut up."

A long silence falls at that point, which is good because you've got more than enough to try to digest, and it's long past time that you got out of there.

You get to your feet as quietly as you can and creep toward the foyer. You peep around the corner into the other room. Frank and Joe are standing over the big table, staring down at it. You glance over at the front door. It has drifted half open. You tiptoe over.

There's not room to squeeze through, so with gritted teeth you start to pull it open.

Then Frank says, "What are you doing?" You squawk aloud, and whirl.

Joe—Dee—is staring at you with a puzzled expression. Frank is glancing between Joe and you with a soft frown.

"The front door's open, Frank," Joe says. He stalks over toward you. You jump back and narrowly avoid being brushed by him. Joe pushes the door shut, then looks around with his hands on his hips. He is so close you can feel the heat radiating off his body.

Frank says, "What's wrong?"

"I don't know," Joe replies, "but I don't like it!" His lips quiver, and light ripples like a wave of gold through his hair.

An arctic chill runs over you, but only for a moment.

Then Joe wheels on you. His eyes pop and his mouth falls open. Before you can react, he howls and grabs you.

Next: "Twenty Questions (At Least)Open in new Window.

© Copyright 2021 Seuzz (UN: seuzz at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Seuzz has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://writing.com/main/books/entry_id/1021807-The-Eavesdropper