Sweet Menace (4 page)

As far as I saw it, I had just two options. Pack and leave, as it was kind of obvious that Sam suspected something. Or I could kill them all this very night and then leave, and start all over again. Revenge after revenge. Town after town until vengeance was just a vague idea in the back of my head. Until my thirst of blood and death was fully satiated. They all deserved to die. Lavender included. Her heart was now corrupted and in a matter of days or weeks perhaps there would be nothing worthwhile of her soul. If I wait longer the result would be the same. Everything would be summed up in a dead town. The more I become attached to Sam, the greater would be my suffering. As much as I try to avoid it, I'll end up dying inside. Then wanting to die out.

“What a cutie pie!” -Connie said over the counter right when Sam gave an about-face and disappeared in the street. -“I’m getting that man. You heard me? No matter how nice you try to be to him; how hilarious your jokes may be; how much you fill his stomach… I’m getting that man and be married by the end of this year.”

Trying to keep my cool temper I considered what to tell her. This chick was so annoying that, if somehow it happens that she gets Sam, I’ll use her wedding to kill them all. Sam included. The idea brought a big gleaming smile to my face. Killing them all should be nice after all.

“Don’t you think that the end of the year is too close? If you want to marry, you better know every detail of the groom-to-be.” -I suggested keeping the smile in my face.

“You’re not a match for me, limp baker.” -She insulted. -“I’m a fine lady. You belong to the working class.”

“Haven’t you considered that a man like Sam isn’t looking for a trophy wife but someone who knows the value of hard work just as he does?” -The triumph I tried to show through my smile was being deeply fogged by skepticism. But I wanted to repel the offense.

“I’m so sure I can bet with you. I’ll pay for your full service catering to the activity of choice if Sam Whilhey ends in love with you.” -I extended my hand ready for the challenge. -“But if he and I have something, you’ll gift a full service -food, entrée, drinks, cake and decoration- to my New Year Party this coming year.”

“I’m on, Connie. I’m so on.”

If I had acted correctly gambling with Connie, I wasn’t sure. If he could feel something for me… I wasn’t sure of it either. But one thing I knew, he somehow disliked Connie. The way he looked at her, like if she was just a little thing; how he twisted his lips disgustingly when she approached him, told me too much.

Betting on someone’s love not necessarily meant something big, right? Oh, definitely I was doing something wrong. But what’s done is done. I’m not retreating from this game. They all are a game to me after all. Sam was just a new player added a little late, but he was still game.

Before closing time I received Lavender’s unexpected visit. She tried to apologize to me but I was so hurt by her lack of consideration, and I was up to another challenge. It was very hard for me to understand why she let Jerome stand over her, humiliate her, rule over her with his macho behavior. I can understand he’s her husband and maybe he feels some urge to protect her, but for her to kneel and praise his freaking weird ego? Come on!

“
I
giv
e
you this as a token of how sorry I am for everything.” -Lavender said extending her hands at me. Handing me a crab apple, my cousin hurried to hug me hard and sob in my shoulder. -“Place it under your pillow. It’s for luck with your suitor.”

Really? A crab apple? Didn’t she know what I do to apples? I cut them in pieces, crush them, cook them. Exactly what I wanted to do to her right now.

“I don’t believe in luck. A man should love me for what I fully am, not for what he wants me to be. You know you can come to me if you want to. Right, Lav?” -I asked her, grabbing Lavender at arm distance. -“Please, don’t allow your wanker husband to make you inferior. You’re a worthy woman, but you’re too humble to notice how idiot is the man you married.”

“Morgan, you must never talk like that in front of him. He’s way too traditional.” -Crazy but Lavender dared to defend Jerome.

“Traditional isn’t the word you should be using but patronizing, fogy, bigot.”

“He’s… a nice man.” -Lavender argued. -“Maybe he’s right when he says you’re a misanthropist witch; whatever that word might mean.”

Right after Lavender mentioned those words the front door flew open with a noisy crack. As carried by levitating demons, Jerome stormed his way through Lavender, grabbing her hard by her arms. Swinging her as a weakling scarecrow, Jerome launched her backwards. She fell hard against one of my big showcases, breaking the glass with her head and back. After the collision, Lavender felt on her buttock and I heard the heavy thump. It was a painful one. Lavender’s astonished face was a memory I wouldn’t allow myself to forget until this old-fashioned idiot pay for what he had done. Rising her hands to her face, Lavender noticed blood coming from her broken palms. Tears ran through her cheeks as a wild gush but she didn’t dare looking at him.

Soon Lavender’s hair was a messy nest and Jerome was holding her by what a few minutes ago was a cute and well coifed ponytail.

“I warned you about this, didn’t I? Why did you come looking for your stupid cousin? You’re not like her, don’t you see? You’re a housewife and she’s just a limp old quail.” -Instead of a well deserved apology, Jerome yelled at Lavender right before slapping her hard across the face. His fingers were engraved in my cousin’s fair skin, bulging like a mark of a branding iron. I squeezed my hands hard and the crab apple I had forgotten about heaved a bit of its sweet juice. I threw myself against him with intents to beat him but both of us ended in the street, entangled in hits and maybe some bites too. While I sat over him with my 120 pounds, slapping his face solidly, he bit my right breast hard. I writhed in pain and he took advantage of this to launch me to the floor and kick me merciless in the ribs.

Unable to move, I stood there, lying on the floor, inhaling the stink of recently put tar while dust and dirt entered my lungs, but it didn't matter.

Audience gathered around to look but none of them dared to save me or Lavender from this raged gorilla. Now, Jerome was out of my range of vision but I heard more glass breaking inside my shop.

Wanting to kill Jerome right then, I stumbled until I was back on my feet. Later I'll take care of my hurting body. Later I'll slap my cousin myself. Later I'll worry about letting my rage take power over me. And maybe later I'll kill them all and end with this. But for now, I wanted him dead, even if the price was to let everybody know how wicked and evil their limp wobbly baker can be.

As I tried to get inside my destroyed bakery, both Lavender and Jerome stormed outside. She cried inconsolably and he seemed both angry and dejected. Running away from me, Jerome got lost in the street, escaping from the curse that soon would fall on him.

I walked towards my cousin to see if she was alright and to help her clean the mess in her face and the blood staining her hands and fancy dress but she gave a few steps back.

“This is all your fault, Morgan. Is your entire fault.” -A shriek of accusation left her mouth before she ran away from me.

“I curse you! I curse you, Jerome Greenline. You’ve your days counted.” -I yelled my lungs out in desperation.

Driving my van I just thought the many possible ways in which I could kill this jerk. I wanted him to suffer. I wanted him to pay. I wanted him to apologize and yet I would kill him anyway. I wanted him to burn from inside out. To hurt from top to bottom. Humiliate him, to humble up, to cry like a baby and, right after, break his spirit. And for him to die with my name in his lips. He… cursing my name again and again… That sound would be the sweetest of the lullabies. Just then tear up his soul in at least a trillion pieces.

If only I could make him die.

I burst inside my own house like a noisy thunder falling in between a storm. I closed all locks behind me. For what I was planning, visitors were not appreciated. Not at all. For the first time, black Maghik gathered inside me, I could feel it, and I couldn't waste this unique opportunity. The dark energy gathered hard and I could only feel myself suffocating. Burning inside like an ember of fire that never could be extinguished.

The crab apple Lavender gave me was just a piece of evidence of what had happened not an hour ago. I threw it to the garbage can without consideration and ran to my room to prepare myself. Tears ran down my cheeks now that I was in the privacy of my house. My whole body ached, especially my chest, both inside and outside. I undressed quickly, tossing the dirty and bloody clothes in an empty plastic bag. I stood in front of the mirror and I watched myself naked for the first time ever. The surprise I took was enormous. My body was beautiful, something that never before I've been willing to accept. Only now, covered in bruises that were beginning to blacken, I got the motivation to feed my courage. My poor chest was what hurt me the most. Jerome's wild teeth were marked in red blood clots with the same force with which he had tried to tear my flesh.

Searching through my closet I found some clothes I had never used before. Black spandex pants and a leotard as black as the night. I put on black underwear with extra padded support for my sore boob. Barefoot I walked to the kitchen, feeling grateful for the coldness of my own tiled floor.

Three big black candles and a mirror ended scattered on the kitchen floor just below my gothic black crystal chandelier. Matches, vinegar, herbs and black sugar mixed with the pain and anger I felt. Everything brought to a simmer in a crock pot.

I could have summoned some kind of Maghik to heal myself but what was the purpose? Which would be the motivation? Pain was just a prize I wanted to savor.

I kneeled in the floor, my weight resting in my heels. Inhaling deeply, I recalled the recent events plus the old things that made me hate Jerome in the first time. Suddenly words started appearing in my head, forming sentences with coherent meanings, and my hate took form while my lips pronounced a spell I had no idea of knowing.

“Death: as black as night, tortuous and painful, fall upon him.

Pain: help me end up his dreams.

Souls: release your wrath, you know what I mean.

Hell: grasp his breath and take him eternally away.

Gods and Goddesses of Death: Jerome’s fate is casted.

Thus be it. Avenge me!”

I just realized that I was screaming the verses when I leaned down and my fingers brushed a sharp surface. I mustered the courage to open my eyes and when I finally did, I noticed that it was dark. Night had fallen, heavy and slippery, sneaking in my house and within my soul. From the black candles a fine reddish smoke oozed and I was afraid to within my bones.

Right in front of my knees a dagger lied. Its handle resembled a dragon with many horns. The mix of vinegar and black sugar tarnished the blade surface, giving it an appearance of fresh blood.

Taking the dagger between my hands I stood up. Fear seized me and I started doubting if I was doing the right thing.

Of course you are, Morgan
. I said to myself trying to appease the fear and mixed feelings. With a wave of my hand I summoned my black rubber boots and opened the fridge. A few sips of water gave me an urge to vomit. Dropping down the dagger, I bent over the trash can and rescued the crab apple just in time to release my only food today: my breakfast.

Darkness gave me a new perspective and I hugged the crab apple hard to my chest. Before going jerk-hunting, I went to my room and hid the crab apple under my pillow. No one ought to know that I did that. No one must suspect my relationship with Maghik. No one had to know that all this was happening. If this crab apple was unable to get me a decent husband, at least it'll take me to die under its tree, to eternally rest chasing sleepy unicorns.

Dark Maghik was perhaps a forbidden thing. How would I know? Who had taught me? I have learned everything with pain and stumbles. No book has had the power to teach me what I was learning day by day with every stumble I give.

Yells outside warned me of danger. Nothing to worry about. Nothing I wasn’t expecting to happen. It was just Jerome’s voice, shouting insults and dirty words about me. This was the moment for which I was working. Maybe ending with him will satiate my pain. At this moment I was thirsting for revenge.

Even if I had a magic wand, which of course I don’t need, a flying broom or a shape-shifting frog, nothing would stop me from chasing Jerome until he had lost the skin of his feet. Silent, I jumped through the back window, mystified by my newly discover physical abilities. It is marvelous what anger makes us do. To surpass our own limitations.

I surprised Jerome in a chase across my garden. Dagger in hand I felt like a serial killer with a machete, and despite it was an adrenaline rush, I knew I was doing it all wrong. I did a killer spell already, one I was sure he wouldn’t survive beyond this night. But I couldn’t feel happier tormenting him this moment.

The hunt was extended beyond midnight and though I had him steps away from the dagger I couldn’t raise it to give a killer wound. Yes I gave him some cuts and kicks. He surprised me in a few occasions too, attacking me with his whole weight and I discovered he was drunk like the worm in the tequila bottle.