Djinn: Cursed

By Erik Schubach

Self publishing

P.O. Box 523

Nine Mile Falls, WA 99026

Cover Photo © 2016 Ouh Desire / ShutterStock.com license

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.  This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties.  Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited.  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher, except by a reviewer who wishes to quote brief passages in connection with a review written for inclusion in a magazine, newspaper, blog, or broadcast.

This is a work of fiction.  Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Manufactured in the United States of America

FIRST EDITION

ISBN 978-0-9975256-4-9

I had never known fear like this in my life, the ground rushed up to meet me as I fell almost two hundred feet in the middle of the night from the top of the Coit Tower here in San Francisco.  The odd glow of the city lights on the white stone of the tower blurred past, letting me know how fast I traveled as I plummeted to what I knew was going to be a sudden and violent stop at the bottom.

I wondered if I would feel anything.  I didn't want to die, and I especially didn't want to die painfully.  Falling to my death was not on the top of my to-do list tonight when I went out partying with my friends on my twenty-first birthday.  Wasn't being twenty-one supposed to usher in a new chapter in your life?  Not be it's last?

Well falling to my death was a misnomer in this case, since falling indicates some sort of unfortunate accident.  In this case, I was experiencing my own murder, as I had been unceremoniously thrown off the observation deck above.

Since you are privy to the last seconds of my life, I guess I should introduce myself.  I'm Angelina Drake.  I moved to San Francisco a year ago so I could attend nursing school here.

Let me rewind the evening a bit... I really should have been back in the dorms studying, but Billie and Stacy had convinced me to go out partying with them to celebrate the fact I could now legally drink with them.  Not that that ever stopped us before.

I had been studying in the stacks; the human pulmonary system was sort of fascinating to me; when my two roommates tracked me down.  They were a little loud and overly excited for the stacks, and they looked like they were hellbent for mischief, all decked out in their clubbing gear.

I looked around at some annoyed and overstressed medical students as they peered over their own stacks of books which they had been immersed in.  I shot an apologetic look but couldn't help but grin at the girls.

I whispered, “Hey, quiet down girls.  What are you two doing here?  Aren't you like, allergic to studying or something?”

Stacy looked ready to burst as she said, “A little birdie in the admissions office leaked a certain someone's birth date to us, Drake.”

Billie nodded excitedly and held out a garment bag she had been carrying.  “You're coming out to celebrate with us.  Come on, we'll stand guard at the restroom while you get changed.”

I started to protest but knew it was a losing battle, especially after Stacy tempted me with, “Maybe we can find some hot girl to hook you up with.”

I was a little surprised at how accepting my two roommates were about the fact that I played on the other side of the fence.  They hadn't even batted an eyelash.  To the contrary, they seemed to be excited about it and would often drag me out partying and point out prospective women for me as they prowled for men.

When I asked about it and commented on how cool they were about it, Stacy had just chuckled and said, “This is San Francisco.  You can't swing a stick without hitting a lesbian or two.”

Then Billie had chimed in. “That's more men for us.  Besides, that whole adorable girl next door thing you have going on there lures the guys into our web by the boatload.”

I had to chuckle at them.  What else could I do?  And I have to admit, they were fun personified, and I could do a lot worse for friends in this burg.

I rolled my eyes, smiled, then closed my anatomy book and stood, taking the proffered garment bag which was hanging from Billie's fingertips.  She clapped quickly in excitement, her hand's fluttering.  We looked around to the people shushing us in exasperation from the other tables in the old law library, as we ran off to the restrooms, Stacy scooped up my study materials to carry with her.

I gave them one last “are you sure” look, then stepped into the restroom as they stood at the door to give me the privacy I needed.  I unzipped the bag and had to snort.  Those two took every opening they could to play up this girl next door axiom they keep throwing around with me.

I shook my head and looked in the mirror which hung along the entire length of the row of sinks on the low Formica counter.  I was just your average West Coast girl, with darker, dirty blonde hair, and blue eyes.  My eyes were about the only thing I liked about my looks.

I wasn't a California Girl like my two friends, all boobs, and butt.  They could have stood in for fashion models in any photoshoot emergency.

Stacy being the tall, leggy, and shapely stereotype which I'm almost positive she goes through great effort to project, hiding her sharp mind and quick wit.

Billie has that mocha chocolate skin that simply glows an almost gold.  She's short, sweet and sassy.  And they both always dress to the nines, showing off what God gave them.

I chuckled at the contents of the bag again, then looked down at my slight frame and shrugged.  Then I took out the white tank top, sky blue blouse, and white shorts.  This was their idea of my clubbing gear.  They liked to dangle me like innocent looking bait.  The scary thing was how well it worked.  Sometimes I think guys are driven purely by their hormones and not their brains.

I poked my head out the door to look at my friends.  Billie in her form fitting dress and Stacy in her painted on jeans and low cut blouse, showing just enough cleavage to make you want to see more.  I held up the tank top, an eyebrow cocked as I asked, “Really?”

They both chuckled, and Billie shoved me back into the restroom, closing the door on any protestations I may have had.  I snickered to myself then sighed in resignation and got dressed.  From the bottom of the garment bag, I pulled the shoes out and again rolled my eyes at my white and gold sandals.

I swear I'm just a Suburban Barbie to them at times.  But hey, I loved 'em.  I slipped the sandals on, stuffed my things into the bag then leaned forward on the counter, supporting myself on my hands as I examined my face.  I screwed it up in a silly grimace then shook my head.  I guess I was passable.  I took a moment to touch up my lip gloss then turned to look at the bland, utilitarian door.

I slung the garment bag over my shoulder, steeled myself, then stepped through it to my friends.  Billie turned to see me and nodded with an appraising look. “Lookin' hot Drake.”

Stacy gave me two thumbs up.  I grumbled, “Why do I feel like a slab of meat you're dangling in a lion's den?”

They giggled, and we were shushed again.  Then Stacy whispered behind her hand, “It's because we shamelessly use you as our bad boy magnet.”

I nodded and was pulled along with them toward the door as I mumbled indignantly, “That's what I thought.”

Before long we wound up walking to a hotspot downtown, Hailey's.  It was a loud and crowded, two-story club which catered to young twenty-somethings with it's booming bass and neon lights.  There were other glitzier clubs on the strip that lured the tourists in with flash, glamour, and watered down drinks, but us locals knew how to step beyond the hype to where the real fun was.  Hailey's was it.

I narrowed an eye at my two escorts as we walked arm in arm toward our destination.  They knew I sort of had a thing for Hailey, the owner.  She was a thirty-something emo with a flair for business and these fascinating sleeve tattoos that I've always wanted to see more of as they disappeared into the sleeves of her always tight tees.  And she flirted with every male or female patron, I'm sure she is bi because it doesn't feel forced in any way.

She was also a shrewd businesswoman to compete with the bigger clubs and stay open in the most competitive area of the city.

I'm not usually into older women, but Hailey was hot with her bright purple hair and umm... perky assets.  I mean come on, I have a pulse.  She let the girls smuggle me in even though she knew I was underage, but she made sure that nobody in the place would serve me anything but soda.

I also knew that Hailey was into the innocent look which the girls had picked for me tonight.  They met my gaze sheepishly, and Billie shrugged and squeaked out, “What?  Maybe you can score us some free drinks with Hailey, it being your birthday and all, and since Hailey is... well since she is Hailey...”

I chuckled as we started crossing the street to the end of the line by the doors, and said, “You do realize she's at least ten years older than me, right?”

They wisely kept their mouths shut, but their mirthful eyes sparkled as they tried not to look at me.  I muttered, “Skanks.”  They burst out laughing.

Then I pulled the girls up short as bright lights hit us.  A dark SUV had been barreling down the road without its headlights on and had snapped them on just before it almost mowed us down.  I caught a glance of a bald man at the wheel with a hard look on his craggy face as the car roared past.

Billie's hand shot up, giving the driver a one fingered salute as she yelled, “Asshole!”

Ok.  I took a deep breath as I tried to calm my racing heart.  Adrenaline making me jittery as Stacy hissed, “The asswaffle almost hit us.”

This got me chuckling, and we hurried out of the street to the end of the line of clubbers.  I asked as I shivered from the night air as much as from the effects of the adrenaline from the near miss burning off in my system, “Asswaffle?  Where do you come up with that stuff?”

She raised her head and looked down her nose regally and sniffed, “It is from my cultured upbringing.”

Fifteen minutes later we found ourselves inside the club, music pounding, bodies grinding, and people yelling over each other in the chaos.  We found a back table near the bar and sat to observe for a moment and take it all in and formulating our plan of attack for my introduction into the adult world.  I chuckled to myself, knowing the people here were trying to escape the adult world.

Stacy stood a moment on her tiptoes, looking over most of the crowd, I was jealous of her height at moments like that.  She muttered to us, “There're only two waitresses working the floor tonight, it might be easier if you go get the drinks at the bar for us, Drake.”

I glanced back at the bar to see none other than Hailey manning said bar.  I rolled my eyes at my friend. “Subtle there, Stace.”

She just laughed merrily.

Billie winked at me and said, “Come on Angelina, we're thirsty.”

I smiled at the two, they were shameless really, and prepared to stand when the sounds all around me seemed to blur together, and I caught snippets of conversations from all around the club somehow, I couldn't make out the words, but the whispering echoes of various people saying “I wish.”

I swayed, grabbing the edge of the table with both hands to steady myself, then shook my head to clear it and the raging sounds of the club slammed back into place like a door being opened to let them in.  What the hell was that?

It had happened earlier today too, when one of our instructors had said, “I wish you would all pay better attention to the lectures.”  There was this disorientation and a pressing need inside me to do something, but I'm not sure what.

Stacy furrowed her brow. “Angel?  You ok?”

I nodded and gave a weak smile. “Yeah, I just stood up too fast.  Got a little dizzy there.”

She watched me with concern before I started toward the bar.  I weaved between people who were more intent on making a hookup, or talking with friends than paying attention to where they were going.  I ended up at the bar with a silly hop, planting my feet and smiling at Hailey as she looked up from the drinks she was preparing.

In my usual highly sophisticated manner, I awkwardly waved from my hip like a schoolgirl.  “Hi, Hai.”

Her smile bloomed on her face as she said, “Hey gorgeous.  Be with you in a sec, let me finish up here and I'll get you a Pepsi.”

I blushed and then dug out my ID as I said, “Actually, maybe a beer?”

She glanced at what I was holding up, with a stupid grin painted on my face.  She paused and asked as her eyebrows rose, “No?  You gotta be shitting me.”  She took my ID, and her smile grew, if that was even possible.

Then she returned it to me and tilted her head as she studied me, saying, “Well slap my ass and call me Aunt Sally.”

I scrunched up my face in confusion.  “Huh?”

She laughed out loud and patted my hand and said, “Hang on darlin'.  I'll get you one of my special reserves.”  She glanced at the table with my roommates and added with a wink, “But just the domestic shit for your friends.”

She placed the drinks she had been preparing on a tray and looked around and scowled, then bellowed, “Trish?”  She mumbled, “Where is that girl now?  I swear she is the slowest barmaid I have.  I wish she'd hurry her ass up.”

Her words echoed in my head, and I swayed, almost stumbling, but was able to get a hand on the bar to steady me.  Hailey placed a hand on mine as my head cleared, I looked up into her dark eyes, her face creased in concern.  “You alright darlin'?”

I took a deep breath and centered myself, nodding.  “Fine, just a dizzy spell.  I've been having them all day, I think I'll go in to get checked out if it keeps up.”

She patted my hand before withdrawing hers.  She nodded skeptically. “Alright.”  Then she nudged her chin at my table and said, “Go take a seat.  I'll bring the drinks out to you.”  She winked. “Drinks are on the house tonight.”

Good lord, for someone older than me, she certainly could get my motor running.  I squeaked out, “O-Ok.”  Smooth Angel, real smooth.

I made my way back to the table and froze in place when I saw a man over by the main doors, standing by the wall.  It was the bald man from the car which had almost hit us.  He was standing there looking my way.  He was wearing dark professional clothes that were not really suited for clubbing, not to mention the fact that he was in his late forties... in a pop club.