I always took care of Janie. I always called her my little sister even though she was born just a few minutes after I was, and while it was a joke between us, I always felt responsible for her. Part of that was due to our mother. By the time we were five, we were accustomed to periodically packing a bag to spend a few days with this relative or that. At the time, they just told us that our mother was sick or “going through a rough time”. Later we figured out that she was a barely functioning schizophrenic with severe alcoholism issues. But it was okay, because through all that, I would always be there for Janie.
The other reason I took care of her so much was because she wanted me to. As we got a bit older, I developed a few friends and, if not popular, I was at least not socially reviled at school. But Janie always had trouble with other people. At school she stayed with me when she could and by herself at other times. Around strangers or even at a family member’s house, she would cling to me like a frightened tree frog, all big eyes and breathing that bordered on hyperventilation.
But all of that was okay. I loved Janie, and I pretty much hated everyone else, including the supposed friends I had at school. But mostly I hated our mother. Even when I began to understand she was supposed to have mental problems, I saw her lack of self-control and apathy towards her own children as signs of disgusting weakness. Here we were, brought into this world against our will, and she couldn’t even be bothered to check on us or feed us half the time. When I was seven, I wished her dead for the first time. By the time I was eight, it had become a daily prayer to some unknown thing.
The summer we turned eight was a big turning point for me and Janie. We were still children, of course, but we had reached a point of self-sufficiency that even our most well-meaning family would only call and check in once or twice a week. We were a burden to them, you see. A hassle. They had their own lives and their own perfect little worlds, and our mother being a piece of shit brought them unwanted concerns and guilt. So as soon as they could assuage those thoughts and feelings by telling themselves we “were like little adults” and “so mature for our age” (both of which are lines we actually got when someone was ready to vamoose), they usually turned away and never looked back. And that was okay, because one, fuck them, and two, we had each other.
We could have done pretty much anything we wanted by our eighth summer. Next to no supervision, a house far enough out that there were no nosy neighbors to see what we were up to, and a desperate need to find something to care about. I’m convinced that most profound and remarkable things, be they good or bad, are discovered because someone is bored out of their mind.
The first time I killed an animal, I don’t even remember doing it. I just remember standing over the cat, a bloody pocket knife in my hand, staring at Janie as she looked back at me with an expression she had never sent my way before. It was fear. Looking into her wide eyes, I felt like someone had punched me in the stomach. I never wanted to be the cause of her being hurt or afraid.
But then something miraculous happened. She walked over and took my hand. I stood still, unsure of what to do or what this meant. Then she smiled and asked me to show her how to do it. Relief surged through me so hard I began to cry. I had been hiding these growing impulses from her, afraid that she wouldn’t understand. But just like I was always there for her, she was always there for me too, and I needed to do a better job of understanding and appreciating that.
So I showed her how I had caught the cat and stuck the knife into its neck—even then my idea was never to torture or be cruel. It was only the death and the flesh that mattered. Something in me understood that from the beginning, but it wasn’t until I was explaining it all to Janie that I really recognized it.
Somehow, we had stumbled onto a kind of truth. Guiding Janie’s hand under my own, the poor cat’s blood making it hard for her to hold onto the knife as I told her how to cut, I knew was that I wasn’t sick. I didn’t want to hurt animals or people. Not at all. I just wanted to know the truth that had been vibrating inside my soul for months now, and I could see in Janie’s eyes that the same desperate disquiet resided in her as well.
It would be some time before we realized the source of that terrible need, and by that time, we had progressed so far. We were children that were wandering alone in the wilderness. Sometimes literally, as we played games, explored new places, and developed the intricacies of our beliefs. But beyond that, and more importantly, we were walking hand in hand in our own dimly lit journey through the shadowed halls of our shared soul. Traveling toward something real and magical that lay just out of reach.
But that would all come later, not that day. On that day, I was just a proud brother, holding the hand of his little sister, teaching her how to get a clean kill.
“So this is the place, huh?” I tried to keep the uncertainty out of my voice, mostly because I didn’t want it to betray the fear and doubt I was feeling.
Darcy looked back at me as she continued to tug me forward with a grin. “This is the place, slowpoke. It doesn’t look like much because…well, that’s kind of the point.” She slowed to a stop and looked at me closely, her eyes narrowed. “You aren’t pussing out are you?”
I felt my stomach twisting into a tighter knot. I had only been dating Darcy for two months, but I already felt like I was in love with her. She was wonderful, but she was also so different than anyone I had ever known before. I knew she used drugs some of the time, which I didn’t particularly like, but she never pushed it on me, so I tried to ignore it. But her fascination with the occult…at first I had taken it more as a joke, and then I just assumed she was a part of some religion I was less familiar with. And that was all cool. I have an open mind, right? So I asked her some about it.
She was very open in talking to me about it, and I quickly realized that this wasn’t about faith or ritual for her. She described herself as a “drive-by occultist”, and at first I didn’t understand what she meant. When I told her so, she rolled her eyes and laughed.
“Can’t have you not appreciating my clever turns-of-phrase. A drive-by occultist is somebody that is up for whatever. They know there are things out there that can give you power and knowledge, but they don’t confine themselves to one set of beliefs or practices. I’ve met a few people like myself over the last few years, and most of them aren’t religious at all. It’s almost like a science nerd watching different experiments to see which ones work and can be replicated.” She cocked her head and frowned. “Is that making sense?”
“So…you go to different occult rituals and stuff and see what you can pick up?”
She leaned forward and gave me a quick kiss. “Exactly!” She looked to the ceiling and continued. “In faaaact, I’m actually planning on going to a pretty special underground occult event in a few days. I wasn’t going to invite you because I don’t want you getting freaked out, but if you think you’re up for it, I’d love for you to go.”
I felt nervous, but I didn’t like the idea of her going to some weird thing alone, and I wanted to be supportive. “Uh, sure. Where is it?”
“Detroit.”
Darcy told me that in the past few years Detroit had become one of the biggest gathering spots for serious occult activity (or as she put it, “the real hardcore shit”) in the United States. She vaguely alluded that there were several reasons for this, but one of the most important and practical ones was that there were entire blocks of buildings that were abandoned in portions of the city where no one gave the slightest shit what you did. Getting in and out could be a bit risky, but as long as you were smart, on any given night you would have access to at least a couple of different gatherings or rituals.
This all sounded very strange to me, and I felt my doubts only growing as we approached the hulking shadow of what appeared to be an abandoned office building. Two blocks back we had seen a large pack of what looked to be wild dogs running down the street, but since then I hadn’t seen the first sign of life. This building was empty, the broken panes of its windows staring out of a dead face made of faded brick and crumbling mortar. So either she had the wrong address or…
“Names and IDs?”
I jumped and barely stifled a yelp as a large man in a golf shirt and jeans stepped out of the shadows holding a clip board.
“Fuck! What?”
Darcy was already reaching into her purse and shooting me an embarrassed look, but the man just gave me a heavily-lidded glance and repeated himself.
“They take your name and ID when you enter one of these. You get them back when you leave. It’s pretty standard, and it cuts down on people being assholes in there. They’re held accountable if they do something they shouldn’t. Come on, Josh. We don’t want to miss the start.” She was waving her hand at me to give her my driver’s license, and after a moment of hesitation I did so. I was about to start walking in when the man raised his hand to stop me.
“Are you prepared to wear the Heart Mask and accept what it shows you?”
I glanced at Darcy and she nodded. Turning back to the man, I told him yes I was.
He nodded and lowered his hand, letting us pass. We walked across what had once been the lobby of some kind of insurance company based on the signage, and at first I was heading toward the elevator before Darcy steered me to the stairs.
“No power, remember?” Her arm was linked with mine and she gave me a squeeze. “Thank you for coming with me to this. It means a lot to me.”
I felt myself blushing a little and was glad it was so dark on the stairs. “Thank you for bringing me. I want to know about the things that are important to you.” We were on the second floor now, which was as barren and lifeless as the first, and were heading on up to the third. I was going to try to say something else, something clever or endearing maybe, but then I noticed a new sound in the distance.
It was the sound of people screaming.
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Credits
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