Deleted: Chapter Ten Opening

Let me just say that I love VooDoo. He’s by far the strangest character I’ve ever written. And whenever I did a scene in his point of view, it was almost an excuse to turn off my brain and let him go wherever and do whatever…except that I had an outline that no matter what happened during the scene, certain bits absolutely had to happen.

He’s hard to read. I know that. Which is why he was the character I cut the most of. When I hacked a bunch from his scene with the Rede, this scene lost about half of its relevance. When all that was left was establishing where he was that night, the other half of its relevance was lost because that could be accomplished in about a sentence. This scene was a few thousand words. Buh-bye.

In that earlier scene with him and the Rede, I cut out a bit that helps this scene make more sense. The Rede was sort of feeling its way around VooDoo, seeing what he would do, how he would react to certain things. If you’ve read the book, you know that the Rede has a mind of its own, so its manipulation of VooDoo is nothing to be surprised about here.

Part of that manipulation was a spell called Lure. In the early stages of the book, I introduced a lot of little spells–some of which were used later, some not. Well, Lure got cut… No, wait… that’s not entirely true. It is in the book, but it’s not called a Lure spell. Kyre sort of uses it on Andrea. He also uses it to help him get VooDoo into his car and to get Jeff to give up the Rede. These are all variations on this particular spell. But its name and references to it got completely cut.

Now that you know about it, this scene will make a little more sense–even through VooDoo’s eyes!

CHAPTER TEN

At first, it was too loud. VooDoo’s ears rang with the pumping music. Lure. Who was the lucky lady? She was pretty. Definitely a pretty one. Those were the best.

“Watch it, buddy,” a man growled when VooDoo lost his footing. The wall slammed into his forehead before he saw it clear enough to put up a fight. The rusty metal had an alternating current of heat and freeze. The lines were like arrows, nagging him to make a choice.

Warmth turned to blast furnace as he neared a platform. An empty seat by the stage became occupied as he stumbled once more. The wooden back caught him, his finger twisting painfully. He bit his tongue so as not to scream.

No one would understand. Not even the woman dancing on stage. She multiplied, then magnified. Pulling a piece of the money from his pocket, VooDoo placed it in front of his face and studied the pretty building. The woman stole it, then tried to attack. Did she know she’d fallen into his trap? And did she know she had chocolate chip cookies covering her breasts?

Oh to take one bite. The sugary euphoria would wash him clean. But they merely teased, causing his pants to stir. The strange sensation of arousal cascaded over him. Seeking sustainment, he shifted his hips.

But in that space, she was gone. Was there another? Would that silly paper in his pocket lure another woman? One better? Or would it only hire her for a few fleeting moments? No thanks.

His chair went to ice, burning through his pants. Vision of glitter faded to blackness.

No. Death’s door could not open again. VooDoo sprang from his perch high atop the mountain. Flying in frenzy, he swished through the tree branches, unable to control his descent through the growly, tattooed, pushy, sweaty forest.

The end. He needed the end. Whatever it may be. He needed it. No more leaves to chew or scratchy bark. No more voices screaming at him. No more music.

Into breathy space, his mind’s eye conjured a shield. Where had it been last time? When the trees had lost their leaves, grew thorns and broke their branches to smash him. Where was it then?

A book. It wasn’t a shield, it was a book. Open somewhere in the middle, pages fluttering, keeping the thorny branches at bay.

Out in the street, VooDoo listened to his breathing. Heavy.

He inhaled deeply. Chocolate chip cookies.

Holy shit. Why hadn’t he noticed them before he’d entered the horrid forest? They could have warmed him. Could have. Could have. Could have helped him. Could have helped him remember why he’d chosen buttons this night. Or something.

This night was special. He studied a crack in the sidewalk. Where would it lead? Was it warm? Fascinated by an ant, VooDoo tilted his head. The insect knew more than he did. It knew where to go. It knew everything. And shared it with him. The perfect scenario for a murder.

VooDoo stomped on the ant. It screamed.

The night flowed through misty air. VooDoo continued down the street, away from neon, away from his home. Away. Just plain away. Liberating his mind and hopefully his body. Pretty? Complete, pretty freedom.

His mind’s eye brought back the book, but he didn’t want it. He swatted at it. Growling, VooDoo realized he’d fogotten something.

He’d forgotten what brought him from his home. Brought him into the night, far away from cookies.

He had paid to lure, but where was the point? Funny paper attracted flies. If the pretty word was to work, it needed to come out without exchanging paper. No more paper. How stupid could he have been? To attract a fly, one needed something other.

VooDoo paused, leaning against a storefront. It was warm. He skidded to his left. It was cool. To his right, the night beckoned with warmth. Proceeding further, he dodged more mailboxes, trees, very nice trees, and metal grating. Everything was beautiful, coming alive as on no previous night.

Pushing aside a fear of the unknown, he turned down an alley. Men hollered at him, pretended to befriend him, threatened him. Which was it?

A chase ensued. Too much noise. Footfalls, voices, pierced the air as VooDoo propelled over a large metal box. Why did the box halt? There could have been safety away from blacktop, but now it was too late. VooDoo had recognized it too late.

Climbing up a metal chain, he met fleshed bone, smashing it with his forehead before gravity reclaimed him. Death’s door opened, voices screamed. He couldn’t tell his from the foreign ones. They grabbed at his buttons. Fabric did not tear.

Amid a whirlwind, VooDoo found his feet. The pavement was warm and he was anchored to the spot. Wickedness threatened, but VooDoo stood fast. Confidently terrified. Verbal assaults were painful.

Then it returned. The shielding book. His mind’s eye conjured it above his head and he was compelled to follow it out of Death’s circle. Instead of calmness, he found chaos and ran. The book disappeared, but only because he’d run past it.

It was miles away by the time his legs gave out. Looking down at his image, he discovered straightening was in order. Not a problem. All was well and smooth. Death’s door was closed for the moment. The book was nowhere in sight. No evil lurked on this street corner.

More neon prompted VooDoo to think twice. Both thoughts were of warmth. He trusted heat. He followed the small, round blue and amber neon. It led him into a darkened place where different music spilled forth.

But there were people holding guitars and someone beating on drums. The music seemed to emanate from them, holding VooDoo’s interest until a pretty woman bumped into him.

“Excuse me, sweetie,” she said as she batted her coal eyelashes. “Can I get you something to drink?”

VooDoo ordered a dark beer. The darker the better. It didn’t matter what it was called as long as it was dark. Those were his favorite. They went down smoother.

Another pretty lady smiled at him. Had he been staring? She motioned to him. VooDoo followed without question.

“My friend will be right back. Would you care to join me in the meantime?”

He sat down next to her black-clad body. She felt warm. He complimented her deep blue eyes and flowing blonde hair, but knew they weren’t perfect.

“Thank you. What’s your name?”

Before panic took over, VooDoo quelled it to a dull roar within his skull. He never knew how to answer that question because he had two very separate names. One of dread, the other of sorrow.

But she wanted an answer. Her eyes implored. Tonight had started with dread, so he called himself VooDoo.

She giggled. “That’s not your real name is it?”

He shook his head before revealing his sorrow name, and then gave her the opportunity to choose.

“Sammy is nice, so why do you call yourself VooDoo instead?”

His best answer was that it suited him in far too many ways.

“I know I’ve only just met you, but I feel like I can already trust you. Do you find that happens a lot?”

He wanted to answer that she was the first to mention it, but he refrained, feigning appreciation.

“You’re shy, huh?” She sipped green liquid from a conical glass.

It looked rather stiff and had him wondering where his beer had gotten to. Did it fly away somewhere before he could drink it? Maybe. But he also hadn’t learned the pretty lady’s name.

“I’m Shelly.” She smiled and then her focus went past him. “And here’s my friend Steph.”

The woman named Steph had hair the same color as the rats which lived in his cardboard. Brown, but looked very soft. She settled in next to him as he told her his name.

Steph had the same kind of response as Shelly did. But both seemed to like his names. VooDoo’s beer arrived and the women fawned over it, so he ordered some for them. The funny money in his pocket came in handy.

For the next stretch of time, they spoke of places they’d been. The women were best friends. They traveled together on boats and planes. They were quite a couple. VooDoo admired their camaraderie. It had to be sweet knowing that there would always be companionship in any distant place.

They briefly spoke of family, and VooDoo had nothing much to contribute. The women didn’t notice. They pressed their thighs next to his on either side. They seemingly couldn’t get enough of him. They laughed at him, with him, about him. Their voices were like gentle music, bringing him to places of joy.

Steph suggested they all retire to her place and VooDoo couldn’t find a single word to deny his pleasure.

On his way out of the noisy music, more women flocked to him, some grabbed at him. His ass was cupped by several hands, his chest caressed by several more. Long fingernails, short fingernails. Hands. Lots and lots of slender, pretty hands. Where had they come from?

Steph and Shelly knew one of the women and invited her. The rest pouted. Where was this place? VooDoo wanted to make sure he returned. The direction they headed was nice and warm.

He inhaled deeply. Lust everywhere. In his mind, body and all of his surroundings. Did these three women want him as badly as he wanted them? Had he lured them?

He certainly hoped so. That being true, he’d sate every one of his frustrations. It would be the first time with more than one woman. And the first time with ones who were so willing, groping at his body through his clothes before the foursome was hidden behind closed doors.

If the pretty word had come from the book, the book was very special indeed and should remain within his possession. It held more power than he’d previously been shown. He vowed to hold that book forever. Keep it safe. Love it as these women loved him this night.

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Excerpt: Library — Dinner
Deleted: Scene Two — Chapter Ten Opening