{Delilah} Excorsing Demons Part 1
Delilah spends the next four nights studying the family volumes and regaining her willpower. As soon as she is able and NOT distracted utterly, she calls Bill.
"Hello love, what's been going on? You weren't there when I returned."
Bill responds without pause, "of course."
"Yeah, I was pretty . . . uh, worn out after all that. I had to recover. I've got a strange question for you that will probably upset you. Can I ask it?"
"Do you have anything of your mother's left, besides the key that you gave me?" She subconsciously plays with the key when she talks to him.
"Alright, not quite what I expected, just odds and ends, personal things."
"Like what exactly, Bill, please? It's rather important."
"Just some bits of jewelry, cheap stuff really and some old photos."
She pauses for a moment and then says, "I'm going to need your house again to- . . . Sunday night. Please? Can you take those things out for me, too? I want to see them."
"I guess, sure. Love what's this all about?"
She sighs a bit, "you know what this is about. Either I take care of what's in the house or I get a bed that fits you because I can't stay there." She sounds angry and depressed.
He sounds resigned, "Do you want me to bring over what I have?"
She pauses for a moment, and then nods to herself, "yes, please, bring it over. Can you bring it over tonight?"
"If you like."
Delilah is waiting for Bill, hair still black and long, pulled back into a bun.
As Bill approaches the air seems to thicken, he is oblivious as he trots up the steps and knocks.
She opens the door and lets him in.
He holds up a satchel. “This is all I could find.”
She takes the bag from him and then backs away from the door and walks into the center of the large sitting room her and Bill have had many nights in.
As she does so the temperature drops and the older gentleman wearing a tweed suit enters, passing through Bill as he does so. She'll notice the resemblance there immediately now that she sees the two together.
She stares for a long moment at them, her membranes blinking as she hugs the satchel to herself. She begins to smile a bit; it's wholly disturbing.
Bill looks at her and tilts his head, "what are you doing?"
As he does so the apparition walks to the counter and withdraws a phantom glass and pours a similar immaterial glass of Whiskey from Bill's bottle.
Still holding the satchel to her in an almost death grip and hardly
taking her eyes off grandfather, she walks to Bill and pulls him down
to her gently to kiss him.
"My love, can you leave now? My work is almost finished and I want to
get it done so we can spend some time alone."
Bill frowns, "What's going to happen to that stuff?"
"Absolutely nothing if I can help it, my love."
"All right love, I trust you, as always." He kisses her and eyes the bag nervously. "Are you sure you don't need me here?"
"I always need you, Bill, but you need to go now. Stop worrying."
Bill nods and leaves, kissing her. He seems nervous still but accepts it.
In the corner the ghostly figure of her Grandfather leans against the wall smirking.
She slings the satchel around her shoulder securely and turns to face
her Grandfather, a disturbingly similar smirk on her face.
"What am I going to do with you now, I wonder?"
"The question is what you are going to tell that boy when you destroy his mother’s last precious belongings."
She shrugs lazily, "not really something you have to worry about is
it?" She just grins, standing and looking at her grandfather. She
lazily fingered the key around her neck.
"So, I'm curious. Why so attached to the cheap things of a woman you
couldn't have cared less about?"
"I'm sentimental."
"And a pathetic liar."
"Possibly, but do you expect me to make this easy for you?"
"No."
"What is it you expect Delilah? What do you want?"
"Oddly enough, nothing you can give me, it would seem." She sneers a
bit at him. "More to the point; you gave me the answer to why you
nearly destroyed the family, it was hackneyed and hardly satisfactory.
I was looking for this big mystery and all I found was a bitter old
dead man. Frankly, I'm disappointed."
"Funny, I'd think you of all of them would understand." He taps out a pipe on his shoe and refills it, lighting the bowl from a wooden match, there is no odor.
"Enlighten me, please." She crosses her arms over her chest, face and
voice rather emotionless, "why on earth would I understand the
destruction of my family that has spanned centuries, a mother in an
asylum whom I never got to see alive, and a deplorable creature that I
must call my Grandfather? Tell me, please, where is my
shortsightedness in all this?"
The apparition rolls its eyes. "I suppose you can't imagine what it means to be a man in this cursed family can you? To be the hanger on, the appendage. To be surrounded by power and privilege and see it wasted. No. You couldn't see that in your own condition could you? You've never seen power abused by lazy fools, have you?"
She opened her mouth to protest and then shut it again. Instead she
nodded once and said "I'd be lying if I said you didn't have a point;
but I hardly agree with your warped view, your nihilistic attitude or
your flawed appraisal of our blood. You can't stand me because I
represent everything you ever despised about your position in life,
which you created for yourself I might add; but that is fine. Then
why try to destroy Bill in the womb and leave me alone?"
"Destroy that worthless oaf? Before he became a blood drinking monster what exactly did he add to society? As for you, perpetuating a legacy of insanity, perversity and emotional abuse of the living and the dead? Does that sound like a good idea?"
Delilah's anger flares, but she keeps it in check. She speaks, more
to herself than anything, "no big mystery, just . . . wow, utterly
disappointing." She pulls the satchel forward and begins to examine
the contents carefully.
Inside is a wooden jewelry box with an Asian design theme of indeterminate age, it's filled with bits of costume jewelry. There's also a lace fan made of old plastic.
The figure smiles. "Amazing what gets left behind isn't it?"
She speaks as she continues to look at the items, burning them into
her mind. "Not so amazing, considering your here." She flips things
over, looking at the backs, trying to determine closer age. "You had
to have known, though. What I mean to say is, that for all your
brilliant plans of destruction, you committed the one act that could
have thrown your entire plans into upheaval . . . you fucked a Sykes.
Good gods, why? And if you tell me a decrepit old man has needs, I'll
just scream. You had call girls for that."
The box once empty and turned over rattles slightly, like something heavy is loose inside.
She shakes it a bit more, trying to hear where the rattling is coming
from exactly and then begins to pry it open where the sound is.
As she shakes it the sound is obviously between the base and the bottom of the box, it seems like a heavy piece of solid metal.
As she tries to pry it up the wood splinters a bit and she realizes the section goes under the visible sides.
She manages to work out a combination of moves on the box that frees the side to slide open. The apparition sneers. Within is a heavy gold ring, marked with Masonic emblems.
She smiles at him a bit as she looks at the ring and holding it up.
"Well, now, THIS is interesting! Yours I take it?"
"Of course."
"And this is what you were so attached to? You know they sell these
on eBay now, right?" She looks a tiny bit sad when she holds up his
ring and then her own, similar one on her thumb.
"Like father like daughter."
"If that was a stab, it was a ridiculously obscure one that makes no sense."
"No it was literal, you simply don't get it do you? Inside the ring, an address, go there"
He smirks and fades from site.
She rolls her eyes and mutters to herself; "was getting to that, you
old fuck," she shakes her head as she looks at the inside of the ring,
"why I don't just destroy all this junk, kill you off and be done with
it I'll never know . . . but oh, no, I have to Nancy Drew my way out
of this, don't I? Some big mystery to the family, I thought. Some
decent reason why you tried to do this, I said. But oh, no . . . "
her voice fades out at she realizes she probably looks ridiculous.
The address is a Masonic lodge in London
She thinks about which lodge it is and then rifles through the mental
rolodex to get a picture. She heads to a book, pulls it off the
shelf, confirms the number and then dials it, "should be about 7 or 8
am over there."
"Hello?"
"Good morning," her second membranes blink briefly at how long it's
been since she said that, "my name is Lady Delilah Holmescroft, and I
was wondering if you could help me with something?"
Of course Miss Holmescroft, we have your package. "Funny thing, we found it just yesterday."
She hides her surprise, "wonderful. Can you forward that along, or do
I need to pick it up there?"
"Where are you?"
"I'm in Washington, DC," she pauses for a moment, "you can send it
along to the Lodge in Alexandria, though? Would that be easier
for you?"
“Of course Ms. It will be there waiting tomorrow.”
"Thank you," and gently hangs up. She looks at the ring for a few more minutes and then sits down, lighting a cigarette, twirling it slowly on one of her very small hands. Give it back only to take it away again; Bill will think I've gone sack-a-hammers; so I have to leave it here. Time for a sleep over. She closes up the puzzle box, puts everything back into the satchel and then locks it in the sideboard in the living room. So many fucking keys, so many fucking locks, I am the key to the lock in your house, that keeps the toys in the basement, and if you get too far inside, you'll only see my reflection . . . She walks into her bedroom and packs up for a few nights stay. Checking a second and third time to make sure EVERYTHING is locked up; she leaves her place and calls Bill.
"Can I spend the night?"
"Hello love, what's been going on? You weren't there when I returned."
Bill responds without pause, "of course."
"Yeah, I was pretty . . . uh, worn out after all that. I had to recover. I've got a strange question for you that will probably upset you. Can I ask it?"
"Do you have anything of your mother's left, besides the key that you gave me?" She subconsciously plays with the key when she talks to him.
"Alright, not quite what I expected, just odds and ends, personal things."
"Like what exactly, Bill, please? It's rather important."
"Just some bits of jewelry, cheap stuff really and some old photos."
She pauses for a moment and then says, "I'm going to need your house again to- . . . Sunday night. Please? Can you take those things out for me, too? I want to see them."
"I guess, sure. Love what's this all about?"
She sighs a bit, "you know what this is about. Either I take care of what's in the house or I get a bed that fits you because I can't stay there." She sounds angry and depressed.
He sounds resigned, "Do you want me to bring over what I have?"
She pauses for a moment, and then nods to herself, "yes, please, bring it over. Can you bring it over tonight?"
"If you like."
Delilah is waiting for Bill, hair still black and long, pulled back into a bun.
As Bill approaches the air seems to thicken, he is oblivious as he trots up the steps and knocks.
She opens the door and lets him in.
He holds up a satchel. “This is all I could find.”
She takes the bag from him and then backs away from the door and walks into the center of the large sitting room her and Bill have had many nights in.
As she does so the temperature drops and the older gentleman wearing a tweed suit enters, passing through Bill as he does so. She'll notice the resemblance there immediately now that she sees the two together.
She stares for a long moment at them, her membranes blinking as she hugs the satchel to herself. She begins to smile a bit; it's wholly disturbing.
Bill looks at her and tilts his head, "what are you doing?"
As he does so the apparition walks to the counter and withdraws a phantom glass and pours a similar immaterial glass of Whiskey from Bill's bottle.
Still holding the satchel to her in an almost death grip and hardly
taking her eyes off grandfather, she walks to Bill and pulls him down
to her gently to kiss him.
"My love, can you leave now? My work is almost finished and I want to
get it done so we can spend some time alone."
Bill frowns, "What's going to happen to that stuff?"
"Absolutely nothing if I can help it, my love."
"All right love, I trust you, as always." He kisses her and eyes the bag nervously. "Are you sure you don't need me here?"
"I always need you, Bill, but you need to go now. Stop worrying."
Bill nods and leaves, kissing her. He seems nervous still but accepts it.
In the corner the ghostly figure of her Grandfather leans against the wall smirking.
She slings the satchel around her shoulder securely and turns to face
her Grandfather, a disturbingly similar smirk on her face.
"What am I going to do with you now, I wonder?"
"The question is what you are going to tell that boy when you destroy his mother’s last precious belongings."
She shrugs lazily, "not really something you have to worry about is
it?" She just grins, standing and looking at her grandfather. She
lazily fingered the key around her neck.
"So, I'm curious. Why so attached to the cheap things of a woman you
couldn't have cared less about?"
"I'm sentimental."
"And a pathetic liar."
"Possibly, but do you expect me to make this easy for you?"
"No."
"What is it you expect Delilah? What do you want?"
"Oddly enough, nothing you can give me, it would seem." She sneers a
bit at him. "More to the point; you gave me the answer to why you
nearly destroyed the family, it was hackneyed and hardly satisfactory.
I was looking for this big mystery and all I found was a bitter old
dead man. Frankly, I'm disappointed."
"Funny, I'd think you of all of them would understand." He taps out a pipe on his shoe and refills it, lighting the bowl from a wooden match, there is no odor.
"Enlighten me, please." She crosses her arms over her chest, face and
voice rather emotionless, "why on earth would I understand the
destruction of my family that has spanned centuries, a mother in an
asylum whom I never got to see alive, and a deplorable creature that I
must call my Grandfather? Tell me, please, where is my
shortsightedness in all this?"
The apparition rolls its eyes. "I suppose you can't imagine what it means to be a man in this cursed family can you? To be the hanger on, the appendage. To be surrounded by power and privilege and see it wasted. No. You couldn't see that in your own condition could you? You've never seen power abused by lazy fools, have you?"
She opened her mouth to protest and then shut it again. Instead she
nodded once and said "I'd be lying if I said you didn't have a point;
but I hardly agree with your warped view, your nihilistic attitude or
your flawed appraisal of our blood. You can't stand me because I
represent everything you ever despised about your position in life,
which you created for yourself I might add; but that is fine. Then
why try to destroy Bill in the womb and leave me alone?"
"Destroy that worthless oaf? Before he became a blood drinking monster what exactly did he add to society? As for you, perpetuating a legacy of insanity, perversity and emotional abuse of the living and the dead? Does that sound like a good idea?"
Delilah's anger flares, but she keeps it in check. She speaks, more
to herself than anything, "no big mystery, just . . . wow, utterly
disappointing." She pulls the satchel forward and begins to examine
the contents carefully.
Inside is a wooden jewelry box with an Asian design theme of indeterminate age, it's filled with bits of costume jewelry. There's also a lace fan made of old plastic.
The figure smiles. "Amazing what gets left behind isn't it?"
She speaks as she continues to look at the items, burning them into
her mind. "Not so amazing, considering your here." She flips things
over, looking at the backs, trying to determine closer age. "You had
to have known, though. What I mean to say is, that for all your
brilliant plans of destruction, you committed the one act that could
have thrown your entire plans into upheaval . . . you fucked a Sykes.
Good gods, why? And if you tell me a decrepit old man has needs, I'll
just scream. You had call girls for that."
The box once empty and turned over rattles slightly, like something heavy is loose inside.
She shakes it a bit more, trying to hear where the rattling is coming
from exactly and then begins to pry it open where the sound is.
As she shakes it the sound is obviously between the base and the bottom of the box, it seems like a heavy piece of solid metal.
As she tries to pry it up the wood splinters a bit and she realizes the section goes under the visible sides.
She manages to work out a combination of moves on the box that frees the side to slide open. The apparition sneers. Within is a heavy gold ring, marked with Masonic emblems.
She smiles at him a bit as she looks at the ring and holding it up.
"Well, now, THIS is interesting! Yours I take it?"
"Of course."
"And this is what you were so attached to? You know they sell these
on eBay now, right?" She looks a tiny bit sad when she holds up his
ring and then her own, similar one on her thumb.
"Like father like daughter."
"If that was a stab, it was a ridiculously obscure one that makes no sense."
"No it was literal, you simply don't get it do you? Inside the ring, an address, go there"
He smirks and fades from site.
She rolls her eyes and mutters to herself; "was getting to that, you
old fuck," she shakes her head as she looks at the inside of the ring,
"why I don't just destroy all this junk, kill you off and be done with
it I'll never know . . . but oh, no, I have to Nancy Drew my way out
of this, don't I? Some big mystery to the family, I thought. Some
decent reason why you tried to do this, I said. But oh, no . . . "
her voice fades out at she realizes she probably looks ridiculous.
The address is a Masonic lodge in London
She thinks about which lodge it is and then rifles through the mental
rolodex to get a picture. She heads to a book, pulls it off the
shelf, confirms the number and then dials it, "should be about 7 or 8
am over there."
"Hello?"
"Good morning," her second membranes blink briefly at how long it's
been since she said that, "my name is Lady Delilah Holmescroft, and I
was wondering if you could help me with something?"
Of course Miss Holmescroft, we have your package. "Funny thing, we found it just yesterday."
She hides her surprise, "wonderful. Can you forward that along, or do
I need to pick it up there?"
"Where are you?"
"I'm in Washington, DC," she pauses for a moment, "you can send it
along to the Lodge in Alexandria, though? Would that be easier
for you?"
“Of course Ms. It will be there waiting tomorrow.”
"Thank you," and gently hangs up. She looks at the ring for a few more minutes and then sits down, lighting a cigarette, twirling it slowly on one of her very small hands. Give it back only to take it away again; Bill will think I've gone sack-a-hammers; so I have to leave it here. Time for a sleep over. She closes up the puzzle box, puts everything back into the satchel and then locks it in the sideboard in the living room. So many fucking keys, so many fucking locks, I am the key to the lock in your house, that keeps the toys in the basement, and if you get too far inside, you'll only see my reflection . . . She walks into her bedroom and packs up for a few nights stay. Checking a second and third time to make sure EVERYTHING is locked up; she leaves her place and calls Bill.
"Can I spend the night?"