Monday, August 17, 2015

Writing Prompt: Magical Tattoo 2



    This blog is for me that others may read. I spend at least an hour on each prompt then go back and edit it then post it. If I come back to it I come back to it but if I don't then oh well. I have so many stories in my head and get depressed if I don't write something so this is more therapy for me. Enjoy!




    Because a few people have asked me what happens next I decided to do another writing prompt but continue the same idea as "Magical Tattoo." 


   The moment I opened my eyes, I knew today would be different.


AND

   I felt, suddenly, that the center of this man's attention was a very bad place to be.





       The moment I opened my eyes, I knew things would be different. I hadn't been to classes for 3 weeks. The Fall semester had just started. The leaves already changing their colors from emerald green to an array of reds, yellows, and oranges. Soon they'll all be on the ground, a sickly brown being crunched under many students in a hurry to get to the next class or next wild party. I kept having the same dream: Professor Alastor MorningWay, the damn Leviathan Cross on my arm that hung above a dark altar surrounded by white lit candles inside a Catholic Church, decorated with black and red roses. MorningWay stood at the altar, his hands covered in blood. He reached out to me but I would wake up before... 

I felt something stir beside me. I rolled over to see Jason twitching his nose. Sex was the best way to get over anything that was really bugging me. Lately it was the only thing that made sense anymore. Jason's green eyes fluttered open. He smiled as he noticed me watching him.

"Good morning, beautiful...," Jason stretched and yawned. I smiled, the disturbing dream melting away as I admired Jason's muscles become taut and flex with each stretch. I couldn't help myself as I kissed him in response. 

"Ready for round... what are we up to?" Jason pondered. 

"I believe it's 4," I assured him. Jason rolled over to meet my gaze. His fingers traced down my arm to my hip. He brought me closer kissing me slowly. 

"Not that I didn't like last night or the night before but shouldn't you be in class, Marta?" 

"Can't a girl play hookie?" I climbed on top of him pinning his arms back and going in for another kiss. 

"For you it just seems..."

"Spontaneous..." I kissed his neck.

"Weird but sure," Jason shrugged. "Usually you're all anal about this academic stuff." I ignored Jason's dumb remarks until he made a comment about my mystery tattoo.

"Hey did you become a Satanist or something? I thought you were atheist."

Then it all came back to me. Jason had a tendency to undue all the work his well marbled body did by talking. I rolled off of Jason then climbed out of bed.

"It's nothing. I got drunk one night and just found it there. No big deal," I muttered. Yeah, a damn magical tattoo that burned every time I went near my new boss and the damn dreams is no big deal. And it didn't end there... Yesterday I wanted coffee and my coffee maker automatically started. When I couldn't get my remote to work the week before, no new batteries in sight, I threw the remote in frustration and the TV exploded. I had to explain to the fire fighters that it was an electrical thing. I felt like an idiot but would have felt crazy to admit the truth. Then there were those 3 birds that kept hitting my window... Complete horror movie stuff. 

"Anything to do with your mom?" Jason asked. He did it again.

"My mom is in an asylum," I retorted as I shoved myself into my pants. "Far away from me. I couldn't be happier." I threw Jason his pants which landed right in his face. I didn't want to set fire to something else let alone my sex buddy.

"I just know your birthday is coming up and usually you get ornery around that time..."

Now I was fuming.

"Thanks for last night," I scorned. "But I'm starting to get a headache."

Jason smiled though his cute black stubble that gave me delightful friction was not making me happy right now. 

"I thought you said sex was amazing for headaches," he thought still not getting out of bed. 

"It's a really bad headache," I threw him his red shirt that said Keep Calm & Play On with a guitar symbol on the bottom. I went to the bathroom while he shrugged and got dressed. I just sat in the bathroom listening to Jason get his crap together then sighed with relief when the door closed. Why did I keep sleeping with Jason? He never watched what he said. He always seemed to piss me off. Maybe that's why I kept sleeping with him. I like a guy who frustrates me. 

My mother was in an asylum. On my 8th birthday she filled my birthday cake with rat poison. My little twin brothers died along with 11 other kids in my neighborhood. I didn't have any cake. Mom had made strawberry cake when I told her repeatedly that I wanted chocolate. So being a brat saved my life. My mother had battled with bipolar disorder for a long time. She was Roman Catholic who also suffered from Demonophobia which to those who don't know means a fear of demons. She believed demons were after her and her children. The Devil wanted her children. The bitch got off with an insanity plea. I couldn't very well stay in the neighborhood. Dad and I had to move quite a few times. Even changing our names to Milton, my grandmother's maiden name. Since that day I don't eat cake. Suddenly it felt like my whole body was on fire. 

Stripping off my clothes I jumped into the shower, washing away the remnants of Jason and my foul memories in ice cold water. After I was done I had this sinking feeling that someone was standing outside my door. Then came a knock. Damn it. Jason probably forgot something. I'm never screwing another guitar player again. Such air heads. Then again an apology screw wouldn't be too bad and I was already in just a towel. But when I opened the door I didn't see Jason. I only saw a small red box with the Leviathan Cross carved into the lid. On top was a small white envelope with my name and a black rose. 

"What the h--" My tattoo began to burn again. Not as bad as before but still... I reached down and took the box inside. I unfolded the card to see that it was from Professor Alastor MorningWay. The card read: "Sorry that we only met briefly. I know you've been sick lately but perhaps you can find the strength to meet me for dinner so that we may get more properly acquainted. And perhaps I can answer any questions you'll probably have about that mark..."

Added was the address of the restaurant. The Golden Rose was a 5 star restaurant. The time was for tonight. You know that voice inside that tells you you shouldn't do something? That gut feeling that warns you and stops you from doing something stupid? Well mine was telling me to toss the rose, the box, and the card out the window. And yet there's always that small part of you that wants to know. That nagging feeling called curiosity that can over power your gut. What could it hurt? My arm. I might as well have been branded last time he was sitting next to me. 

I actually wanted to see what was in the box but no matter how hard I tried I couldn't open it. I saw that it was very old. Perhaps 14th century? Style seemed French. I always had a sixth sense when it came to antiques and antiquities. It's like I could see what the object had been through. Right now I could also feel a darkness coming from the box. What did MorningWay mean by questions I would probably have about my tattoo? That did it. I needed to find out what was going on. First I needed to find a dress...


I ended up wearing my red cocktail dress from an old gala for a museum opening 2 years ago. I couldn't believe it still fit me. I didn't eat much so I suppose it would still fit. And it showed a nice amount of cleavage. Not too much to seem like a slut but not too little to give the impression of being a prude. Usually I could get any man's attention if I wanted (yes I'm vain one of my many flaws) but when I entered the Golden Rose and saw MorningWay at the bar, his bright blue eyes piercing my soul even from far away I felt, suddenly, that the center of this man's attention was a very bad place to be... However I was never one to just run away from danger. Besides he saw me so running away wasn't really an option anymore. If I wanted to keep my job then I had to do this...


The burning on my arm was intense but luckily I had a high threshold for pain. Two vodka cranberries later the pain lessened.

"Very happy you could make it," MorningWay beamed. I ordered myself another vodka and cranberry with a lime twist.  

"Sorry I haven't been to class or the office," I apologized sheepishly. 

"I was young once," MorningWay smiled knowingly. "That's what your 20s are for right? Have the most fun you can have, experiment, figure out what you want in life."

"You sound more like a hippie teacher than a professor on symbology."

"I never understood how so many academics could always be so pessimistic I mean I expect that from people who study politics," I couldn't help but laugh. MorningWay definitely had charisma. I was feeling drawn to him...

I did do research on my new boss. Alastor MorningWay was born in London, England but was raised back and forth between there and the U.S. so his accent wasn't heavy. He was practically a genius and the youngest to make professor at Oxford at only 25. Right now he was in his late 30s but his blue eyes sparkled with such vitality and I couldn't help but notice something else... Not sure what it was. I took a deep breath. 

"You sent me a box," I wanted to get right down to business. There was one thing I wanted to get out of the way first.

"I thought you'd like it," he grinned. "It was made by a French Warlock in the 14th century. He dabbled in Alchemy a bit."

"Yeah and the flower was unexpected...," I shifted in my seat, trying to seem casual as I placed my hand over my cleavage. "I don't want you to get the wrong idea or anything." Before I could continue MorningWay put a hand up to stop me from going further.

"I understand what you're saying," he explained, "I can be over zealous when I meet very important people."

"I'm an important person...," I could sense he was building up to something. Most geniuses were eccentric which was what I would have continued to believe of Alastor MorningWay until he said, "To meet the daughter of the Fallen One is a great honor."

For a moment I thought I misheard him. Perhaps it was the alcohol that made me a little giddy.

"Wait...," I laughed. "What?"

"You are Marta St. John," MorningWay spoke soberly. "The daughter of Lucifer. The Devil himself is your father and you are his heir. The one who will rule this world and every world after."
    
   

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