Earthly Vibes (Behind the Veil
- Jaqueline Stone
- Jun 30, 2017
- 4 min read
Happy Friday, and welcome back to Earthly Vibes. We’re going to keep story time going with another short tale, enjoy!
Behind The Veil
There are a few things in this world that cannot be explained or seen with the naked eye. Voices that no one can hear, and truths can’t be told, all behind a veil, separating the living and the dead. There are some chosen, born with the veil over their eyes, able to see in-between worlds and communicate with those that have passed on. I am one of those people. My name is Scarlet, and ever since I was young, I had the ability to talk to the dead, at one point I was hunted by them but that’s all in past. Now they come to me, the spirits, well I call them shades. Most of them come with information, while others come with issues so deep even Dr. Phil couldn’t help. And Trust me I’ve looked forever for an escape clause, but once your card is drawn, you have no choice but to play the game. Still, I wish someone would have warned me about the constant headaches, negative entities, and zero privacy. Seriously, one time I was in the bathroom, and a child shade wouldn’t give me my last roll of toilet paper. Shit’s annoying, but someone has to do it.
I had spent most of the day at the library. I had just finished up an exorcism when I heard about a series of kidnappings and murders in the area, all with supernatural occurrences. Reportedly, each victim had experienced blunt force trauma, and their blood drained and organs removed. Sounds like fun. You would think that my job would be all angels, magic, and unicorns. Wrong! Most of the time my day consists of rotting corpses, files, and demons. It’s a hard job but who else is going to do it.
I had been searching for months and still no leads, my last stop was the library and even that was proving to be a waste of time. Other than death certificates and police reports, I found that none of the cases had made it to the mainstream news. It was if no one in the city noticed, or even cared. But why would they, all of those taken were poor black people, my people. I decided to go home and recharge my batteries, plus the cold wine in my fridge was calling my name.
I dragged myself home to my one bedroom apartment, ass sore from sitting, hair a mess, and to top it all off I think I started my period. It had definitely been a long day. As always, my apartment was a mess, I forgot to put away my art supplies, again. But that would have to wait till morning. My cat Sheba met me at the door as she purred against my leg and headed to her food bowl. I fixed my sad Tv dinner and chugged my wine before heading into the shower.
I let the scorching hot water run over my face, as the steam made my red hair frizz. It was worth it, all this stress had me tense. I tried to relax but something wasn’t adding up. All of these deaths, and no one being held responsible. Not only that, but none of the dead had tried to contact me. With a body count this large, I should have a living room filled with shades. But things were eerily calm.
I kept my eyes clenched so the water wouldn’t seep in as I reached for my towel, but there was nothing there.
“What the hell,” I thought. I opened my eyes to see an elderly man standing inches away from my face. I staggered back in terror at the sight of my unwanted shower guest. So much so I slipped and fell, hitting the back of head against the tub. See I told you, absolutely no privacy. He looked away as he handed me my towel so I could cover up my decency.
“You could’ve waited till I got out the tub.” I said as I snatched the towel from him. Guess it was good to see that he wasn’t a pervy shade (and yes there is such a thing). I was two seconds away from using my banishment spell when he glared at me with the saddest brown eyes I’ve ever seen. The right side of his body was badly burned, but I could still smell his Armani cologne. He wore a navy blue, tattered suit with a briefcase in his hand.
“Help him.” He begged.
“Help who?” I asked, rubbing my throbbing head. But it was too late, the shade had vanished without a trace. “I’m never going to get used to this pop-up shit.”
I pulled back the shower curtain to see the name Jasin written on the mirror. It was then that I heard a loud thud coming from the living room. I ran inside to see the same leather briefcase sitting on my cluttered coffee table. I looked over to see Sheba asleep on the couch, without a care in the world. I inched over to the briefcase, not knowing what to expect. Last time I saw some shit like this it was in a mobster movie, and those things never end well. I took in a deep breath as I braced for the worst.
I opened the case to find a single business card for the Fluffy Kitten Strip Club on 19th street.
“This has to be a joke!” I thought as picked up the card with my pruned hands. It was in that moment that I became flooded with images of a young man being beat to a pulp. I could feel every blow, every slice as he struggled for his life.
“Why am I seeing this, Why?” I asked as the vision forced me to watch the gruesome scene. Then it dawned on me, “He must be Jasin.” And with that thought the vision stopped, it was then that I knew what I had to do. I put on a pair of street clothes and sneakers. I made sure to grab my silver, and purse before I headed out the door. Whoever Jasin was, he needed my help, or maybe I needed his.
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