Anthology of Ichor III: Gears of Damnation (5 page)

“
Stella, that was unbelievable. I don’t know what to say.”

Stella flicked him teasingly with the whip. “We still have dinner reservations, but I changed the venue. It’s another surprise. The taxi will be here in half an hour.” She caressed him and rolled out of bed.

“
I don’t know how many surprises like this I can take.” Peter groaned.

Stella scoffed, “Peter, don’t be so conventional. Let’s break out of our orderly little lives and live a little.”

Peter looked at Stella again; this wild, strange behavior was out of character for Stella, but oh, so delightful and stimulating. “What’s got into you, Stella?”

“
I have a second chance at life and I don’t want to waste it this time.” she announced.

They showered and Stella donned her new silk sheath, a sexy, low cut and short dress that clung to her curves. Peter whistled, “Are you sure you want to go out in that?” He was half serious. He wasn’t used to seeing her flaunt her sexuality. He’d always found her attractive, she had full breasts, a thin body, and a lively personality. But now his inordinate desire for her surprised him--he was hard again, and it embarrassed him.

Stella smiled and took his arm. “Of course I do. Let’s go dear, or we’ll be late.”

They stepped into the taxi and Stella whispered into the driver’s ear. Peter noticed how the cabbie stared at Stella’s breasts. It made him uncomfortable, but he couldn’t blame the guy. She looked incredible in that outfit.

The taxi pulled up to Erosine, a glitzy nightclub and dinner bar downtown. Peter wondered why Stella chose this place. She usually hated crowded and noisy scenes. The waiter led them to a table on the mezzanine overlooking the dance floor. Several Disco balls reflected silver light over the raised dance cages, where women dressed in nothing but silver g-strings danced suggestively. Couples gyrated to loud hip-hop music on the floor below.

“
Isn’t this grand. Peter?” Stella leaned back in the upholstered chair, her eyes reflecting the disco lights.

Peter wasn’t sure, but was willing to suspend judgment for a night. He ordered a bottle of Dom Perignon, smiling as the thought of the broken bottle he’d cleaned up before they left.

When the waiter presented the bottle, Stella clapped her hands, leaned forward and kissed Peter, pushing her tongue deep into his mouth. He was immediately aroused. He raised his glass “To the sexiest and most beautiful woman in the world…. And to Dr. Evans.” They drank.

Stella lifted her glass, and shouted, “To chaos” and downed her champagne in one large gulp. Then she jumped up onto her chair and started dancing. She lifted her arms in the air and did a bump and grind, laughing.

Alarm bells went off in Peter’s head. Before this night, Stella would have been humiliated if anyone at her table acted like this. Was she ecstatic to be free of the pain, and simply letting loose? That had to be it. She was given a whole new life overnight. Surely, she would probably get back to “normal” in a few days. The excitement of being cured had gone to her head.

“
Stella, they don’t let people dance on the chairs, its dangerous,” he said. He stood up and took her hand. She jumped down from the chair.

“
Let’s dance, you old fogey” Stella dragged Peter onto the dance floor. They were swept into the writhing crowd.

~*~

When Stella went for her one-week follow-up, Dr. Evans asked her about side effects. She opened her mouth to tell her about the vision, but changed her mind. “I feel great. I’ve never felt more alive in my life.”

Every day, she felt more alive, fabulous, sinuous and sexy. She left her old routines behind. She started working out at the gym. She and Peter enjoyed a renewed sex life and took long walks along the river. She even allowed herself to tinker with the piano again. Once she thought she heard Eris in the other room, singing her discordant songs, but when she looked, there was nothing.

~*~

Stella woke with a start from a terrifying dream. She was soaked in sweat and shaking. In the dream, she had raced madly through the nightclub, wielding a razor sharp sword, slicing off hands, arms, ears, beheading anyone within her reach, creating a wide swath of gore and destruction. She was covered in blood; it matted her hair and slicked her dress to her body. She’d backed Peter up against a wall and watched his face as she plunged the sword deep into his heaving chest. Blood spurted, hot and sticky, and covered them both. She licked blood from her lips, threw back her head and howled in animal pleasure. Throughout the dream, she had reveled in the death, the gore, in Peter’s destruction.

What did it mean? She wanted to wake Peter and tell him about the visions, about the dreams. But something stopped her, a part of her warned her to keep the secret. That part of her delighted in the intoxicating darkness. That part of her thrilled to the strangeness of it all. Next to her, Peter slept quietly. She ran her finger over his chest and shuddered.

~*~

But Stella couldn’t live with the secrecy, the fear. She’d started blacking out and when she came to, she didn’t know where she’d been or what she’d done. Terrified of Eris’s control of her, her dark dreams, and the growing feeling of oppression, she was also afraid of what Peter would think. She couldn’t bear the burden by herself anymore, and decided to open up to Peter at any cost.

They sat at breakfast, drinking coffee. Stella fiddled with her cup, took a deep breath and began “Peter, I ….” but her throat closed up and no words came out. She tried again and again, but every time she opened her mouth to speak, she gagged on the words. She shook her head and tears dropped into her coffee.

Peter, alarmed, took her hand. “Stella, what’s wrong? Is the pain back?”

Stella waved him away. Her voice returned when she abandoned her plan to discuss Eris. “I’m okay. Just tired, I think.” As long as she didn’t talk about her visions and dreams, she could speak, but when she attempted to reveal anything about Eris, her voice cut off, her silence enforced. Peter left for work and Stella tried to distract herself by reading, but fell asleep on the couch.

When she woke, she stretched and yawned. She felt different--dangerous, perilous. A frisson of excitement and fear tingled her spine and made her shiver. Stella stood by the couch, contemplating the order around her, the brown leather couch, the gold upholstered chair, the linen curtains, the silver framed photographs, all of the trappings of her simple life. The tidiness annoyed her. What would it feel like to create complete and utter chaos like Eris?

She found scissors in the kitchen drawer and walked into her closet. She swept all of the garments from the hangers onto the floor, then sat in the middle of the mess and laughed. She grasped the gleaming scissors above her head, then plunged them downward into the pile of clothes. She held the tip of her tongue between her lips as she cut a skirt; she made a cut, then ripped the fabric into long strips, small white threads dangling and clinging to her black sweater.

She reveled in the ripping sound, the sound of annihilation. She cut and ripped every piece of clothing in her closet, then started on Peter’s. Yes, things were transformed by the power of Eris.

A sense of power filled Stella and she stood in front of the full-length mirror, pressed the scissors against her breasts and cut her sweater from her body. She pushed the sharp points of the blades into her soft, white skin, and watched a drop of blood well up and run down her stomach. She cut off her skirt, her underwear, and stood naked before the mirror. As she gazed into the mirror, she saw the shining blue demon/goddess smiling behind her. “Eris” she whispered, but when she turned, Eris was gone.

Stella’s hands and knees shook, and the hairs on her arms rose in goose bumps. “No, No, No.” She threw the scissors down, and backed away from them. Stella felt the electrical charge of Eris’s presence; a howling wind swept around her and forced her to her knees. Eris compelled her to pick up the scissors.

With tears gleaming on her face, Stella stumbled into the living room. She screamed as she brought the scissors down into the leather cushions of the couch. She stabbed again and again. The sound of ripping fabric, the smell of leather and Eris’s wild singing produced a sudden rush of sexual arousal, causing her to drop to her knees as she continued.

Stella, filled with triumphant madness, systematically destroyed everything in her home, delighting in the sound of breaking glass, of ripping fabric, of crashing wood. She pulled every dish and glass from the cabinet and threw them at windows and walls, she stomped on the plates, broken shards flying and cutting her hands. She tore every picture down from the walls, ripped every book from the shelves, tore pages and threw them about like confetti.

She finally sat in the middle of the floor, breathing heavily, sweat pouring down her face, cut, bruised and surrounded by the ruins and shreds of her old life. Stella heard the familiar electrical crackling and smelled the rich, deep perfume that surrounded Eris.

As she gazed, the wild Goddess danced before her spinning in faster and faster circles, lightening jetting and spurting around her, then Eris stopped and laid her sword at Stella’s feet. The black sword glowed with a dark sheen. The serpents slid down and away from Eris’s blue arms, hissing and watching her with their glassy yellow eyes. They wrapped themselves around the sword, then slithered up Stella’s legs, and about her arms. She shuddered at the feel of their cool reptilian skins on her hot, fevered flesh.

~*~

When Peter returned home that evening, he opened the door and a rush of horror clutched his gut. His face contorted in shock and fear. What had happened here? He gazed, stunned, at the ripped, torn furniture, the litter of broken glass and pictures, the ripped books and, worst of all, Stella, sitting naked in the midst of the disarray and chaos, babbling incoherently.

Peter grabbed Stella’s shoulders and shook her. “Stella!” but she threw her head backed and laughed loudly. She waved her hands in front of his face. “Eris demands her due.”

With a growing sense of panic, he dialed the Health and Wellness Center. The answering service forwarded his call to the Doctor. A few minutes later when the phone rang, Peter almost shouted into it. “Dr. Evans, something’s wrong, Stella’s gone crazy. She’s destroyed the house; I can’t get her to respond--I don’t know what to do.” He put his hands on his knees and gulped for air. He watched Stella wandering around the living room, spinning in circles and falling, tearing at the ruined books.

“
What? That doesn’t make any sense. It doesn’t sound like something caused by the treatment, but get her to the Emergency Room; I’ll meet you there.”

Peter called an ambulance. What if she’d had a stroke? Or a brain hemorrhage? What else could it be? A side effect?

Stella continued to mutter as Peter wrapped her in a blanket. “..chaos is order, discord is beauty. Eris. Discordia. Lawlessness is law...fools worship order. Eris….”

In the emergency room, Dr. Evans and the ER doctor conferred with Peter. “We aren’t sure what’s causing this. We need to do a CAT Scan. It will tell us what’s going on in her brain.”

The orderly accompanied Stella to the imaging department while Peter waited in the exam room. What could be wrong? He couldn’t bear to lose her like this, not now. He put his head down on the table in front of him and cried quietly.

When Stella returned to the room, the nurse stayed with her, while Peter accompanied the two physicians into the consult room. The ER doc pointed to a video screen and brought up Stella’s Scan.

“
Look at this…” he pointed to the image of Stella’s brain. “This is the pineal gland, and for an unknown reason, it’s swollen and seems brighter than the surrounding areas.”

Dr. Evans shook his head. “The gland seems to glow in a bright azure blue, just like the lichen. I don’t understand.”

The ER doctor pounded his hand down on the desk and glared at Dr. Evans. “What were you thinking? Is that extract even approved by the FDA? Who knows what’s going on here?”

Peter stared at the tiny pine cone shaped gland, located in the direct center of the brain, with its strange blue glow. “Did the potion cause her to go crazy like this? Will she get better?”