Laissez Les Bons Temps Rouler

I could smell smoke.

I thrashed around, trying to get out of the ropes. They gave a little, but the smoke was getting thicker. I coughed, coughed again.

I couldn’t move my arms, but I did get my legs free. If I could flip over, maybe get my body under me, I could run. Maybe? Worth a shot. If I just stayed here, I wouldn’t make it.

Hard to wedge myself against the wall to get upright with hands tied up, but I pushed and pulled a bit then dug my chin and shoulder in and I was coughing and the heat was getting unbearable and the smoke was thicker and I was coughing and I couldn’t get up and my legs wouldn’t work-

Something slapped me hard in the shoulder. “Hey, stop shoving! God, you’re sweating again! The sheets are soaked! Gross! That’s it, I’m taking a shower! You strip the sheets, this is your mess to clean up!” Stomping, door slam. The sound of a shower being turned on.

I was awake. The covers were wrapped around me, and my hands were somehow twisted into one of the corners, spun into a rattail and tightened with my own sweat. The sheet was soaking, as were my boxers and tee shirt.

I sighed, and slowly picked my homemade manacle apart.

The nightmares were obviously getting worse.

My girlfriend had that rubber mat thing that she’d put on the bed when it was that time of the month, and I only soaked her once before she’d put it on permanently – or “until you get your crap together,” as she so eloquently put it.

I’ve gotten very good at stripping, wiping down, and re-making the bed.

I’d better do something about these nightmares soon, or she’s going to leave me.

*******

“Geez, did you get beaten up on the way to work?”

“I wish, it would have been kinder.” I settled into my chair with a groan.

“Isn’t your girlfriend into that woo-woo stuff? Didn’t she recommend something by now?”

“Besides separate beds? Yeah, some tea, named after a girl? Valerie? Tastes like feet. No thanks.”

One of the guys pulled up his cell, and was texting someone. “Valerian, dude. And yeah, that’s half your problem. My mom’s a third generation witch, she claims, and says that no way in hell should you be drinking that stuff for bedtime. Makes the nightmares much, much, worse. Lavender and chamomile for sleepy-time, and only if you’re not allergic to them. Practice safe herbal magic. She asks if your girlfriend’s trying to kill you?”

I stared at him groggily. “What are you talking about? No! Why would she do that?”

“Well, my mom’s going off, and she doesn’t do that often. Says your girlfriend is very sus. Wants to do an immediate tarot reading. Do you mind me giving her your birth date?”

“Uh, sure, whatever. Ten twenty ought-one.” There was a significant amount of clicking as my nursed my coffee. I could still feel the cold line of a knife on my neck, and I was trying to hide my shivers.

Eventually, my co-worker sighed, and put his phone away. “She’s rather insistent that your girlfriend is up to no good, in a rather nasty fashion. Wants you to come home with me tonight, she’ll come over, feed you, check you out. Look, I know it sounds crazy, but she’s really good about all that kind of stuff. This is the first time I’ve seen her act like this, so she’s serious. She cooks a mean pasta, too, real bolognese. Think about it.”

“Aw, no, man, it’s just nightmares. Not putting you out for that.”

“She said you’d say that, so she said this, and I don’t get it, but she said you would: there’s no such thing as a dark triad, it’s a dark quad. One for each element, one for each season. You have died three times. You will not survive the fourth.”

I couldn’t help but shiver. I didn’t tell anyone, even my girlfriend. The first nightmare, I’d died by suffocation. I woke with my face in the pillow. The next, it was earth, a sharp knife. This one was fire. That left – only one.

I must have spoken aloud, because my co-worker was nodding. “Stay away from bodies of water, man. Maybe even toilets, sinks. Wash your hands, but stay away from the bathroom.” There were murmurs of agreement.

By noon, I was done. I told my boss I was going home.

Everything that could go wrong, did. Paper cuts from everything I touched. Stumbled on a dust mote, banged my head on the door frame. Got kicked accidentally in the break room. Spilled my second coffee all over my khaki pants.

Worse, every person I looked at, it was like their faces warped on second glance. Hands reached out, handing me paperwork, and the hands turned to claws as I watched. Tails were tucked into belts.

I was losing it from lack of sleep.

Normally my boss is a dick, but he looked really concerned. “You look like you’ve been run over,” he declared. “I can’t let you go home in this condition. You’d be a menace behind the wheel. Take the bus, or a cab, or something.”

A gentle cough from the doorway. My co-worker with the witch mother. “My offer still stands.”

Boss nodded. “Yeah, clock out. Take him home. Come back when you’ve gotten real sleep.”

I nodded in and out as he drove. I didn’t even know his name. Which way are we going? East? West?

I was very distracted by his lizard tongue darting in and out, and occasionally his eyes would flash yellow as he glanced at me worriedly.

“Dude, why are you looking at me like I’m an ax murderer or something?”

“I have no idea where you’re taking me.”

“Dude. To my home. To meet my mom. Spaghetti bolognese. A chat about your nightmares, or insomnia, or something. I can’t kidnap you when everyone at work knows you’re with me.”

Unless they’re all in on it…

“Your eyes just turned black. Please don’t do that, you’re worrying me.”

Maybe I could take him before he takes me… Car has to stop moving, though…

“Right. Here’s home. Do what you want, man, but I’m going inside.” He braked fast, yanked his keys, and took off towards the door.

Damn. Missed my chance.

I looked around.

Nice neighborhood, really. Nice and quiet. Peaceful.

The door opened, and this woman came out.

She looked – exotic. Enchanting. Like a goddess stepped off one of the Caribbean islands, and deigned to land on foreign soil.

I opened the passenger door to greet her, and she smacked me upside the head.

“You! You’re a mess, child! Get your sorry ass inside, and stop scaring my son! He won’t kill you, but I may, if you keep being this stupid!”

I scuttled inside.

Co-worker was eating something that gave off the most heavenly smell, and he pointed to a second plate, steaming enticingly. Suddenly I didn’t care if I died, and sat, and ate.

It was accompanied by fresh bread, still hot from the oven.

I didn’t touch it. I could see shapes writhing in the steam coming off of it.

She studied me through narrowed eyes. “Child, you are three-quarters dead. What you are seeing is where you’re being drawn to, and your eyes tell me it’s no place good. So. You don’t have many choices. Stay here, under the magic of the islands, and live. Or go back home, and lose everything to an evil something masquerading as a girlfriend. Your choice, make it count. But in the meantime, ignore the steam ghosts, and eat something. Thrice dying makes you tired and hungry.”

The ghosts where now making faces at me, so I bit into a loaf.

“Good, good. Son, make sure the guest room is tidied. He needs a good sleep. Maybe three. He has a lot to make up for.”

It all faded.

I don’t know when I woke up again, but I felt a lot better. I wanted to go out back had have a smoke, but I think the lady-goddess would have my head on a platter for it, so I decided to sit on the back stoop, and just have a quiet coffee.

Wait, how did I get this brew? But it tasted good, hints of warm vanilla and cinnamon, and hot sand under a clear sky, and cooling ocean waves.

Someone was singing.

It didn’t sound like my host. It was higher, and seductive. Almost a bit shrill, an edge of desperation. It sounded like… my girlfriend?

I peeked around the side of the house.

There she was, in a red convertible, looking right back at me. She waved. “There you are! I’m so glad I found you! Come on, let’s go home. I was out all night, trying to find you.”

“How did you find me?” Something’s wrong here…

“Silly! I followed you.”

That didn’t sound right. “Then, why didn’t you come in for dinner?” Followed me? From where? Work? Home?

“I wasn’t invited.”

Things of the dark cannot go where they’re not invited…

There was a solid gate between me and her, and even as my brain was screaming a warning, I was fumbling at the latch, but couldn’t make it work. “Can you come over and help me? I can’t seem to get this unlocked.”

“Oh, come on! Stop playing around! Hop over, get in, let’s go!”

The compulsion was strong, I wanted so badly to obey her command. But the lock wouldn’t budge.

“Come on, I don’t have all day! I wasted the entire night tracking you down, so let’s get going!”

Uh, what? “You just said you followed me. How did that take all night?”

“Oh, shut up you stupid idiot, get over here, and get in!”

Ah, screw it. I made to jump over the fence-

And three vines, leaves glistening green, wrapped around me, yanked me back.

My girlfriend screamed, and changed.

I couldn’t seem to close my eyes, or look away.

It was part snake, part spiny, and part deformed something. Claws and spikes erupted at strange places, and it didn’t look very coordinated. Nothing like having an afterthought eldritch girlfriend, I guess. I need to do better.

I think she could read my mind, because the thing screeched at that thought, and launched itself at the gate.

A flash, a sizzle, and a smell like… jerk chicken?

The thing hissed like a steam engine, and was met by a low, earthy, chuckle.

The lady-goddess stepped off the porch.

I swear that flowers grew in her footsteps as she sauntered towards us.

“I should have known you would be crawling around. Go back where you came from, slimy worm, who doesn’t have the brains to become a dragon. You’re a mess. What did you do, roll in a pricker patch, to get those spines all higgledy-piggledy?”

The snakey-thing screeched again, its siren song gone, and lunged again. This time it got its head through the barrier, but more vines whipped up, wrapped themselves around protuberances, and pulled tight.

It crashed to the ground.

The lady-goddess lobbed a bag of something at the still open mouth, which exploded when it hit. I was hit with the smell of… chicken carbonara?

The lady winked. “I married an Italian. It makes the magic spicy in strange ways.”

More loops of ivy came out of nowhere to conceal the body, still thrashing weakly.

“All right, child, you have a choice. You were lucky that I was watching you. Being from the islands, and having a certain type of magic, I can bring you back from the dead. One night’s food won’t undo that damage. Or, you can go back to what little life you had, back to your home, and be consumed by that thing. Or, you can take a chance with the voodoo god I serve, and wake up somewhere else, and start a new life. What will it be?” She was holding a six-sided dice, that glowed from within.

“Did this really happen? Is this real?”

She waggled the dice. “You may never know, child. Did you ever wake up? If so, when? At home, at work? In my house, outside it? In your car on the way to work? Or are you on the cusp of death, hallucinating to stay alive? What do you choose?”

I was beyond fear. I was still bound, but to earth, not my bed. I hope. Maybe I was still there, with a basin of water waiting to drown me. I was almost completely dissociated from my own body.

I made a decision.

“Please, would you roll? For me?”

I didn’t look. I heard the clattering of the dice, rattle, rattle, bone shake, roll, stillness.

I heard her catch her breath. “Huh.”

I opened my eyes.

I was in a bed, in a room. A girl aside of me.

I didn’t recognize where I was.

A tropical breeze wafted through a slatted window, and the woman stirred, looked at me. Deep dark eyes seemed to look into my soul, and a grin that could break hearts at fifty paces.

“Good morning, my love. Did you sleep well?”