Seduce

Last night I had a rough conversation with Aspen. That is all I’m going to say about that. I’m recording it for whatever reason.

And after, and unrelated, I dreamed about being hunted by a demon.

I was in a hotel room, having opened two recent purchases from estate sales. Two people entered the room, a svelt young black-haired woman and a suit-wearing man. The man came in hard and heavy, like a truck, demanding to know what was inside the antique half-circle shaped box. I opened it, and inside (surprising even me) was a mounted largemouth bass. Beside it sat two dust-covered vials of ink and a vial of something else. The man’s nostrils flared and said, "I know why you bought that." He took the fish head and threw it against the wall, breaking the wood base.

He pulled his phone out and called a number, going to the bathroom to talk quietly. The woman, on the other hand, had lay on the bed, watching the thing draw out. The second purchase sat on the table, a much newer-looking paper-leaf book marked throughout by paperclips and loose paper. I pulled the third vial out of the box and read the label: "SALM ON" and something in french. Inside were a handful of little black circles I could only assume were salmon eggs. I walked over to the bed where the woman fiddled with her phone and brushed my leg against the bottom of her foot. "Do you know what these are?" I asked.

"No." She looked with more interest. "What is that?"

"It says Salmon." I opened the small bottle and it instantly filled the room with the smell of oil and decay. Inside were the eggs, but half the wall was covered in a black, fuzzy gunk. I covered it and she looked at me with more interest. "You don’t know what that is, do you?" she asked.

"It wasn’t the important part of the purchase."

She nodded, smiling.

I tapped the book on the table. "Now this is important." I opened the book and showed her a single calligraphic, hand-written page. "It is a book of spells."

She jumped off the bed, slinking her way over to me, and looked over my shoulder. I flipped the pages, each written in the same careful, though shaking hand. The loose paper contained sigils, descriptions, information. "Binding spells, power-stealing spells, all so very important to you."

She breathed against my ear. The man continued to talk in the bathroom. "Yes?" she whispered. "How did you know?"

I picked up a blank book, beside it, and the two ancient vials of ink. "I felt you the moment you came in. Good day to you both."

The images in that book followed me to the waking day. Such a simple dream, I guess, but that kind of dream is never simple. No dream is simple, I guess. I don’t know what to think of it.