Chapter 2: The Curse of Lord Loss
The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow across the sky as Monique arrived at Barrett's house. She had decided to spend the evening there, as a means of seeking some solace from the cacophony of her sister's household.
The scent of incense filled the air as she stepped through the front door, a familiar aroma that she had grown to appreciate in Barrett's company. The clutter of books and papers strewn around the living room told her much about his personality, revealing his intellect and creativity.
She was determined to one day bring some order to this chaos but was pleased to find there were minor ways her visits were accommodated. The bathroom was always stocked with extra towels, soaps, and moisturizers and the kitchen was not missing essential herbs and spices.
Still, dates meant going to local bar and grills and whatever followed. Monique couldn't help but feel a sense of unease in the presence of Barrett. She was drawn to him, but she also couldn't shake off the feeling that he was hiding something from her. His past relationships had left him emotionally scarred, and Monique could sense that there was a pain in him that he kept well-hidden.
The old house creaked and groaned as the wind blew outside, and Monique couldn't help but feel a chill run down her spine. The flickering candlelight cast eerie shadows on the walls, adding to the dated atmosphere of the room. Still, there was peace and quiet unlike the noise and unceasing activity at her own home and a sister who knew no boundaries.
Her sister Angela's children were always a joy, but they too could be overwhelming at times. She loved them dearly, but she needed a breather from the chaos.
Monique moved towards the kitchen, admiring the old-fashioned decor and the serenity that it offered. There was something about the dimly lit space, with its vintage china and silverware, that made her feel safe and calm. She noticed a bottle of red wine sitting on the counter and a corkscrew lying next to it.
Barrett must have been planning to uncork it later, but Monique didn't want to wait. She opened the bottle and poured herself a glass, savoring the deep, fruity aroma. She took a sip, feeling the warmth spread through her body as the rich liquid traveled down her throat.
Monique found herself lost in thought, her mind wandering to the strange dreams that had plagued her sleep in recent weeks. They were unsettling and left her feeling uneasy, as if she was being pulled into a dark world that she couldn't escape.
Her mother had warned her about the shadow man and to stay away from black magic. Instead she was raised in an enthusiastic Southern Baptist congregation, something she missed up here in Illinois. She noticed Barrett had a few metaphysical books and felt the urge to look through some.
Perhaps they could help her make sense of these strange dreams. She picked one up, The Book of Shadows, turned it over in her hands, and opened it to a random page.
"Shadow work allows us to uncover the hidden aspects of the self and helps us to understand why we behave the way we do. It sheds light on our fears, wounds, and limitations, helping us to overcome them."
A piece of paper fell out with this written on it, "To my hunni. May you never leave me now or forever and may our love never sever. -Rui"
Monique's body shuddered suddenly, and she felt a chill run down her spine. She put the book back and decided to focus on the present moment.
Monique poured herself another glass of wine and took a deep breath, reveling in the serenity of the moment. The sound of Barrett's footsteps approaching the kitchen made her heart skip a beat, and she turned around to greet him with a smile.
"I see you've made yourself at home," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice.
"I hope you don't mind. I was feeling a little anxious, and this wine seemed like the perfect way to unwind," Monique replied, taking another sip.
"I don't mind at all." I said with a mild chuckle. "What have you found there?" I asked.
I noticed her eyes were fixated on an old book in her hands, The Book of Shadows. It had an antique look to it, with its worn leather binding and faded gold lettering. I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease as I saw her eyes scanning the pages, her lips moving silently as she read. I knew she had a fascination with the supernatural, but I had never seen her take such an interest in a book before.
Monique looked up at me, her eyes wide and filled with curiosity.
"You have a lot of interesting books here, Barrett," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I had no idea you were into this sort of thing."
I felt a pang of unease as I looked at the book in her hands. The Book of Shadows was a grimoire that had been passed down through the generations in my ex's family, and it was said to contain spells and curses that could be used for both good and evil. It was not something I wanted to share with just anyone, especially not someone as mysterious and enigmatic as Monique. Though it wasn't mine to begin with but was forgotten at my old apartment my Rue Yet, there was something about her that made me feel at ease. She had this way of drawing people in, like a moth to a flame, that was both captivating and unnerving.
As I watched her peruse through the pages of the book, I couldn't help but feel a strange sense of familiarity with her. It was as if we had known each other for centuries, as if we were old souls who had been brought together by some cosmic force.
But I knew that couldn't be true.
Monique stood up and said, "This wine is really quite good. Where did you get it from?" she asked, her eyes never leaving the page.
"It belonged to my ex," I replied, choosing my words carefully. I didn't want to reveal too much about Rue, not yet. "She left it behind when we broke up," I added, trying to keep my voice steady.
Monique looked up at me, her eyebrows furrowed in curiosity. "What do you mean, 'broke up'? You make it sound like there's more to the story."
I took a deep breath, unsure of how much to reveal. "There's not much to say actually. She called me two years ago and told me to never come back to where she lived. Our relationship was to be considered on an indefinite break." I said. Monique looked up from her glass of red wine, her dark eyes meeting mine. 'I guess some things are better left unsaid," I added, with a shrug. I could see the wheels turning in her head, trying to process the information I had just revealed.
Despite my hesitation, I couldn't help but feel a sense of ease in Monique's presence. There was something about her that put me at ease, despite the mysterious aura that surrounded her. Perhaps it was her enchanting smile or the way she moved with such grace and confidence.
"Ok, then her mom died all of a sudden. Her mother might have liked me more than she did..... I feel like the Rue I knew died that day. Whoever looks like her feels like a different person with very different values. But that's just grief talking." I continued.
Monique said, "I feel that. When my mom died I feel like I lost so much. It was a whole possible future I could never get back."
I just walked over and gave Monique a solid hug. She hugged me back, tightly, before pulling away. I felt a sudden closeness to her, one that went beyond mere physical attraction. I wanted to know more about her, to uncover her secrets, and to help her heal from whatever pain she had suffered in her past.
But as we stood there, facing each other in the dimly lit kitchen, a strange thing happened. A gust of wind blew through the open window, blowing out the candles and plunging us into darkness. I heard a faint sound, like whispers on the wind, and a chill ran down my spine.
I knew I had heard those whispers before, in my dreams, but they had never been this loud or this clear.
"Did you hear that?" I asked Monique, but she was silent. I realized that she couldn't have heard the whispers, as she was standing some distance away from me.
As I stood there, trembling with fear and desire, I knew that I was at a crossroads. I could either run away from Monique and her haunted past, or I could face my fears and embrace the darkness.
Monique continued talking, "I think I feel like I owe my sister and nephews so because they will never have a grandmother. If I can cook our family recipes and give them my warmth; that has to be something." Monique's voice was barely above a whisper as she spoke into the darkness of the kitchen. I could sense the pain and longing in her words, and my heart went out to her.
In that moment, I knew that I had to help her, to be there for her in a way that I had never been there for anyone before. I couldn't explain why I felt this sudden urge to protect her, but I knew that I couldn't ignore it.
"So, something weird is happening here. Why don't we go to Mort's dive bar and get some good burgers?" I asked Monique."
"That would be perfectly lovely." She answered.
And so, we left the old house, its shadows and whispers behind, and stepped out into the crisp Illinois night. The full moon hung low in the sky, casting an ethereal glow over the landscape. We made our way down the winding road, their breaths forming small clouds in the air as they chatted amicably about this and that.
Mort's dive bar was a local haunt, a place where the tourists never ventured. The jukebox played a haunting oldies tune, something out of a forgotten time and place.
The dimly lit bar was filled with a motley crew of patrons, each lost in their own thoughts and desires. Barrett and Monique found a quiet booth in the back, ordered their food and drinks, and settled in to enjoy each other's company.
But something was off. Barrett could sense it. He felt like he was being watched, but there was no one closest to him besides Monique. He shrugged it off, figuring it was just his nerves playing with him. He had never been comfortable in crowded places, especially when alcohol was involved.
Monique seemed different too.
She was a woman who carried the weight of her past with her, but her eyes sparkled with life and curiosity. There was a quiet confidence in her, a sense of wisdom and experience that went beyond her years. She had a way of speaking that was captivating, her voice low and husky, with a hint of an accent that Barrett couldn't quite place. He found himself drawn to her, unable to look away as she spoke about her love of travel, her career as a chef, and the ghosts that haunted her past.
The gourmet burgers were as good as ever and Barrett enjoyed this was one place in town where they had fried cheese curds on the menu. Monique promptly ate her burger and this felt like a proper date.
; something they had missed. The atmosphere in Mort's dive bar was dark and moody, and the vintage decor added to the gothic feel. Icy snowflakes danced in the air from a storm happening outside, lending a sense of drama to their surroundings. The jukebox played an old surf tune, and Barrett couldn't help but feel like he was in a film noir movie, where anything could happen in the shadows of the night.
Monique's face was animated as she told him stories of her life, her expressive eyes lighting up with every word.
Her laughter was infectious, and Barrett found himself getting lost in the moment, feeling the weight of the world lifting off his shoulders. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt so alive.
But even as they laughed and joked, there was a part of Barrett that couldn't shake off the feeling of unease. It was as if there was a shadow hanging over them, a darkness that threatened to engulf them at any moment. He tried to push the feeling aside, but it lingered, like a stubborn stain that just wouldn't come out.
Regardless, he ignored this feeling as they went back to his house. The wind howled outside, and the bare tree branches scratched against the windows, making the old house creak and groan. Monique shivered despite the warmth and Barrett wrapped her up in a soft, cozy blanket.
The shadows seemed to dance and twist in the dim light of the room, and the whispering winds outside seemed to grow louder. Barrett couldn't shake the feeling that there was something else in the house, something otherworldly.
They sat in silence for a moment, listening to the wind and the crackling of the fire as they sipped their wine.
The warmth of the alcohol spread through their veins, making them feel both relaxed and alert.
Barrett studied Monique's face, taking in the delicate curve of her cheekbones and the fullness of her lips. He had never felt this drawn to someone before, this pull that went beyond pure desire. It was a magnetic connection that he couldn't explain, a hunger that went deeper than the physical.
He longed to uncover the mysteries that lay behind her striking brown eyes, to dive into the depths of her soul and explore the secrets that she kept hidden. Though that could wait for another day as they both went to to his bedroom; crossing the threshold of the door.
The room was dimly lit with a softly glowing table lamp, casting flickering shadows on the walls and floor. A full-sized sleigh bed with velvet crushed red cushions stood out in the center of the room. Lace curtains adorned the windows, blowing gently in the draft that crept in from the storm outside.
Monique took off her shoes and sank her feet into the plush red carpet, feeling the softness between her toes. She was entranced by the room's old-world charm and elegance.