Chapter 5: Old Friends & Preparations
Queenie was extremely conflicted now that she revealed her plan out of anger to Michael through her scrying into the underworld. If she were to go down there in what would now be two days, at the rise of the full moon, then Michael will have known she was there anyways. It was not like her to skip dinner, the biggest meal of the day at the academy. She was nervous. What if I don't make it back, she thought to herself, I need to do this for Cordelia and not be such a big baby. I need to get Misty out of there before she marries Satan.
She had an idea, one she had not thought of in years. Technically being part of the Voodoo mysteries, she had access to a plethora of deities and spirits the Salem descendants could only dream of. Papa Legba, the keeper of souls in the underworld and ruler of the crossroads, was one she met the first time attempting Descensum by herself in her room. Would he know something about this whole dilemma? Could he be the key to helping her stop this demonic union with the white witch her coven loved so much?
She waited until the rest of the school went to bed, Cordelia included, before she summoned forth the loa in the privacy of the greenhouse. She had a candle lit in each of the four directions, nine by nine feet across in a circle. She managed to get a hold of the shawl Misty prized so much; it was a gift from Stevie Nicks, given to her before her tests of the Seven Wonders years before. With a piece of white chalk, she drew his vévé symbol on the floor and chanted an invocation, setting out a silver tray with three lines of high-quality cocaine.
"Je vous en voc Papa Legba…
Ecoutez-moi mon loa, Papa Legba…"
She repeated the chant under her breath until she felt a cold, dead hand rubbing her shoulder. It startled her, but she knew he had arrived. It was perhaps twenty minutes worth of chanting that brought his attention to her ritual space, and with his booming Caribbean accent, it confirmed his presence.
"Bonsoir, ma cherie," he said. "It's been a long, long time… what calls me to you tonight, my child?"
"Legba! You're here!" Queenie said with a smile, turning around and seeing him circle to sit down with her in her space. His skin was blacker than the ace of spades, with skull-like white makeup, a top hat rimmed with skull-shaped beads, a black cloak with feathers, a distinct amulet piece composed of teeth and glass beads, suit pants, and nice leather shoes. To top off his signature look, he was carrying a cane with a cobra on the top of it, symbolizing the Damballah of the tradition. Queenie's eyes met his, they glowed crimson-orange at her as she offered the silver plate of cocaine lines to him.
"I got this earlier today. Don't tell Cordelia I took a bit from her wallet to pay for it," she said with a giggle. "It wasn't cheap."
He took some of the cocaine under one of his long, black fingernails, managing to collect a whole line to take up to his nose to snort. He shivered with delight, knowing that her offering was sufficient and authentic.
"I can tell, ma cherie," he said. "Now… tell me what it is you need."
"Our friend got kidnapped by the Devil, and I volunteered to go down into the underworld to try and get her," Queenie explained. "You see, I was talking to her captor earlier today, and he said he wants to marry her."
"I know exactly who you are talking about," Papa Legba said, shaking his head. "White witch, and a half-demon… no, no."
"I need some help. I don't know who else to turn to," Queenie said. "I'm conflicted. I don't know if I should have volunteered. I was an idiot and got mad at him and threatened to come down there. I shouldn't have done that, but I did and now I feel-"
"I was invited to that union," he said. "It is in two days, with the rise of the full moon."
"That's when I am supposed to go. What a coinki-dink," the black witch said, rolling her eyes.
"One of the souls I have been taking care of was invited as bridesmaid," Legba revealed.
Queenie thought for a moment, and her eyes and jaw widened – "Nan?!"
"Oui."
"But I thought…" Tears started to form in her eyes; Nan was one of the students she had met when she first came to New Orleans from Detroit back in 2013. She had Down syndrome, but despite her disability, she was an extremely talented clairvoyant with several other powers, including concilium and telekinesis. Queenie grew especially close with her as a friend, and when Zoe found out who killed her, Queenie made several attempts to contact her in the spirit world but to no avail. She had been drowned to death by the previous Supreme, Fiona Goode, in cahoots with Marie Laveau to fulfill a deal of sacrificing an innocent soul in exchange for immortality; Nan was that innocent soul. She remembered how irritated the girl got when she heard other people's thoughts when reading, so she had to listen to music to block it all out. She remembered her distinctive pilgrim fashion style with Peter Pan collars and Mary Jane shoes. She remembered the love shared with the former neighbor, Luke, son of a religious fanatic who didn't want Nan around her son. It all came back to her; she was happy that she was taken such good care of by the loa, but missed her dearly.
"She has been given all her heart desires," Papa Legba said. "Her part of the underworld is like… heaven. Michael, that demon, has tried too hard to make heaven for Misty."
"How is she even happy down there?" Queenie questioned.
"She is lost, she is used to hell, but she is not killing frogs anymore. Just held down there. She longs for the swamp. That was where she was abducted, ma cherie," he said. "Michael knew that Nan knew Misty, so… she is one of the only guests to appear at the wedding…"
"But how do I get down there? He'll kill me, and I'll be stuck," Queenie said nervously.
"He won't kill you, cherie,"Legba said. "After all, he got you out of the Hotel Cortez."
Legba scooped up another line of cocaine with his long fingernail and snorted it swiftly, shivering again at the instant high he got. Queenie sighed and nodded.
"Is there anything I should know? Anything I should be prepared for?" she asked him.
"If Misty eats the food in the underworld, she is there forever unless there is negotiation," Legba said.
"Well… has she eaten any? Poor girl must be starving."
"Non," he said, "but he may have trick up his sleeve. Watch out, or it be too late."
"Too late? What if I am? And what's this about a negotiation?" Queenie inquired. "Who will be in charge of making it if I am too late to stop her from eating anything."
"Depending on what it is," Legba said, "it can be settled she spend part of the year down in hell, and part of the year with you."
"Ugh damn, like a joint custody," Queenie said with disappointment. "Should I tell Cordelia about it?"
"She will find out on her own."
"But what about my safety? Will I be okay?"
"You will be my guest," Legba said, "I was invited, after all."
Before Queenie could ask anything else, Papa Legba disappeared from her space without a trace, leaving half the cocaine unsnorted. She sighed and gathered the rest up in a small vial for later use, and did her best to sweep away the vévé in chalk she drew so no one knew she conjured the enigmatic loa. Lastly, she blew out the candles, put them on the wooden work bench and went to bed, falling fast asleep as the sound of cicadas and an owl lulled her into her slumber from outside.
"Misty?"
The swamp witch, sitting down staring at the fire in the living room, turned around and gasped to see that Michael was not standing alone in the doorway as he called her name. Seeing who was with him, it made her spring from her seat. It was Nan, the young witch Fiona killed in her fight to retain the supremacy years before. Legba had claimed her soul as a sacrifice, and she has been taken care of since. She was dressed in exquisite blue velvet with a white Peter Pan collar, white buttons, and a skirt that reached her knees, partially covered in knee-high socks. She was holding quite a large box with a large ribbon tacked to the top, and Misty was intrigued.
"Nan…y-you're in hell, too?"
"I've been taken care of," she said in her small voice. "I like it here. It beats being up there with them."
Michael saw the two souls look at each other, but Nan put the gift box down and gave her long lost sister witch a huge hug. Misty's eyes were filled with tears of joy, and she swayed with her gently before letting her go. Nan smiled up at her, her unique eyes squinting as she laughed.
"I missed you," she said playfully.
"I missed you too," Misty said. "Queenie… she never stops talkin' about you."
"Oh, I see Queenie," Nan said.
"You do?"
"Yeah," Nan said, waiting to speak until Michael left the two alone. He did so.
"I'll leave you two to catch up for a while," he said, walking away.
The two witches' souls watched him leave, and they looked at each other. Misty nodded, signaling her to continue speaking as they walked over to the sofa she was sitting on when Michael escorted her into the room.
"She called on Legba last night, my soul keeper," the clairvoyant witch revealed.
"She did?"
"She's coming down for you," Nan said. "Legba's guest. He was invited. I was, too."
Is this my way out of this mess, Misty thought to herself. "I…I would love to see her… at my weddin'."
"You don't seem very happy."
"I am," Misty said, sitting down next to her friend. "I just… don't have a choice, is all."
"Do you love him?"
"Yes."
"Then why are you not happy? He gave you that necklace, and this dress. It's beautiful. I have many like it Legba gave me," Nan said brashly with a smile.
"I… miss Cordelia. I miss everyone," Misty said. "I'm so… homesick. I want to leave, but I also want to stay or visit him when I want to."
"Maybe this," Nan said, handing her the large gift box, "will change your mind. I am glad I am not with them. Our own Supreme killed me."
The box had white wrapping paper and a large light blue ribbon on the top. Misty examined it closely, before she opened it. Nan helped her with the tough bits, but when she got it open, Misty was in awe at what was folded neatly within. It was all black, and pulling it out, she had to stand up because it unfolded into what looked to be a wedding gown – it had a thick ebony tulle skirt with several layers, the top had long sleeves with fine lace and intricate embroidery around the scoop neckline. Nan took the liberty of pulling out a mantilla-styled lace veil with a raised headpiece and a piece of fabric that would go over Misty's face during the wedding.
"It is… beautiful…a… a black wedding dress?" Misty asked, in awe of the luxuriousness of the dress.
"It is suitable my bride be in black," Michael said, standing in the doorway with a smirk. "You may add your own touches, however."
"It will be beautiful on you," Nan said. "Try it on!"
"Uh… ain't it bad luck?" Misty asked, "to have you see me in it before the weddin'?"
Michael nodded and smiled, walking out of the room once again.
The two women worked together to get Misty into the dress. Once stripped to her undergarments, she had lots of help getting into the big, heavy skirt, and then zipping up the back. Misty's hair was still down, and Nan led her to the black mirror, on which they could vaguely see how it looked. The Down syndrome girl smiled and nodded.
"I approve," she said. "You should wear your hair up."
"I was thinkin' the same," Misty replied. "It's… not too much?"
"Not at all. Perfect."
"There's somethin' missin'. Maybe… a flower crown over the veil?"
"Right here," Nan said, holding a wreath of springtime flowers out of the gift box along with the veil. She had Misty sit down so she could fit the mantilla headpiece on her crown, and then put the face piece over her visage before setting the flower crown on her head. Misty smiled under the veil and clasped her hands together.
"I feel like a queen," Misty smiled under her veil.
"You will be a queen," Nan said.
"Wait, what?"
"Queen," she repeated. "Michael's queen."
Misty looked at the black mirror and sighed at the slight reflection. She reached her hands out and mimicked the motion Michael made when he was using it previously, like that which is used to pull up a window shade to see the outside. She gasped at how the mirror began to distort at the center, and she was able to see Cordelia sitting and speaking with Queenie. Misty tried to call out softly into the mirror, hopefully to catch their attention.
"Miss Cordelia? Myrtle? I-I'm here… p-please… come and see me…"
Come and see me.
Cordelia perked up, suddenly becoming alert as she got the sudden intuitive drive to look into the crystal ball that had been on the coffee table for a few days by this point, as it was one of the only ways to communicate with Misty in the underworld. Myrtle took notice, and without question, got up and moved her seat to be near the coffee table. The Supreme sat down and looked down into the crystal, sighing and smiling.
"Misty…" she said into the crystal.
"She called to you?" Myrtle asked.
"Yes." Cordelia nodded and looked down into the ball to see Misty in her grand black wedding gown, her veil shrouding her pretty face and a flower wreath resting atop her head. She saw the swamp witch lift it back, with a huge smile on her face, waving at her. Cordelia also noticed that Nan was in view; she looked confused, but then caught on to the fact that this was a special scrying mirror.
"She's waving at us," Cordelia said tearfully, "with Nan."
"Aw, that poor girl," Myrtle sighed, lighting a cigarillo. "So bright, so young, yet gone so soon."
"That is… her wedding dress," Cordelia whispered sadly, shaking her head.
"I hope it isn't from JC Penney," Myrtle joked haughtily.
"It's not, I don't think. It's… black… with a huge skirt… and a veil… and a flower crown on her head. It is beautiful, but… there is an evil about that dress. It's ominous."
"Queenie cannot descend to grab her soon enough," Myrtle said, shaking her head. "I just hope she is prepared to deal with an onslaught of-"
"I am prepared."
The two witches diverted their attention from the crystal ball over to Queenie, who stood tall in the doorway of the ancestry room. She was clad in a pair of distressed leggings and leopard-print t-shirt, which stretched over her obese form like an uneven canvas. Over her black and red-highlighted locks was a plain bandana, and she was wearing large hooped earrings and a gold accent necklace. Her hands were in determined fists at her sides, and her face said it all – she was going to get Misty Day out of hell for hopefully a final time and be a foil in Michael's plans.
"Queenie… we just think…" Before Cordelia could continue, Queenie walked over to her two superiors slowly and spoke with such conviction that it made even Myrtle shake a little in her seat.
"I have help," she said. "I will be just fine. I'll be protected. You seem to forget I am only half of you guys here. I am half Voodoo, too, heir to Tituba. I have Papa Legba helping me get in there safely. Michael won't lay a damn hand on me."
"A-Are you sure you are up for the task? Tomorrow at sundown you descend," Cordelia said. "We will make your favorites… f-for dinner…"
"Peach cobbler," Myrtle said, her voice dancing, "it is nectar for my soul."
"I will be back, Misty in hand," Queenie said plainly. "I have my whole life to enjoy peach cobbler."
The following day didn't seem like it had come at all in hell; after all, time passed differently. Nan had remained with Misty and Michael in his part of the underworld, and the young girl's soul had provided much needed comfort and consolation for Misty, an escape from it being just her and the demonic young man. He had listened in on the two reminiscing about their time together at Miss Robicheaux's Academy, and it made him feel a certain kind of way; he was practically in a human form himself, but his existence has mostly been a very sad one. He felt such tenderness toward Misty, but also for Nan because her presence made his bride to-be very happy and her time down in the underworld with him not so lonely.
"A-Are there any other guests, Michael?" Misty asked her groom to-be.
"No," he said.
"There's me," Nan smiled, nodding.
"The other guests I would want here are… not dead yet, and would not know how to come down here otherwise," Michael revealed. "One of them wishes to not see me. Ever."
Misty's naively curious expression turned to one of disbelief and sympathy. Nan just listened to her gut feelings before he could even say anything. Something is there, she thought.
"W-Why? Why don't she wanna see you?" the swamp witch asked.
"I sometimes forget I lived a purely earthly existence before I was able to travel through the mortal coil and the underworld like this. I was born in a very hallowed house in California. My mother died in childbirth. My father, I came to learn, had already been dead but bound to the house. Therefore, my birth was far from natural. I do not remember much else. My grandmother took me in and raised me for the first years of my life, until I grew to be too much for her to handle by herself. Someone like me ages rapidly. I am actually eight years old, but as you can see, I have the appearance, behavior and cognition of someone in their twenties," he explained, sighing solemnly. "I… loved my grandmother. Too much. I would give her gifts often."
"Gifts?" Misty asked, her bright blue eyes full of empathy and understanding.
"Dead animals," Nan whispered in her ear.
"I was like a cat at one point in time, giving her dead mice. Then I was… a much larger predator, when I began to get the cats themselves. But then… I moved on," Michael said, nodding slowly. "I killed my nanny when I was physically three years old. She wouldn't give me a cookie. My grandmother had to clean up the mess and convince the police that she killed herself. Anyone after that, she cleaned up and buried. One day… I snapped. I had grown far too much for someone who was only four years old. I was a child in a teenager's body. It was overnight. I don't know what came over me, but I woke up and went to my grandmother's room. I tried to strangle her. She kept telling me what to do, and what not to do. Then, seeing the suffering and incredulity in her eyes, I stopped. I felt my heart break inside… I-I tried to kill the only woman who ever truly knew and understood me inside and out."
Michael's piercing eyes dulled a bit as tears began to form in them. Misty and Nan just looked at him, not knowing exactly what to do. He was the Antichrist, the King of Hell – how could anyone sane feel bad for him? His bride to-be simply took his hand, and he gasped a bit, not knowing what to do except listen to him.
"I apologized profusely to her. She was crying her eyes out. Rightly so, as I had tried to kill her. I asked her for a glass of water, and she got me one. I had it and went back to bed. However, she called in a priest, believing my aging to be unnatural. It was, she was right. I…ended up slashing his throat and propping him up to sit so it appeared as though he were playing video games with me. That was when… it went downhill," Michael explained. "I didn't see her for quite some time after, until I went in the house next door, my birthplace. I called for my grandma, and after a while… I found her…"
"She was dead," Nan whispered to Misty, who glanced at her briefly.
"She had… o-overdosed… and d-d-drank herself to d-death… I felt so horrible," Michael said, nearly breaking out into heavy sobs. He made Misty let go of his hand so he could lean forward and cry into his hands, trying not to let out a whine as he did so. The swamp witch just watched him and listened as he tried to get words out. "I-I tried to wake her up… I-I didn't understand what she had done until it sunk in. I apologized to her… I-I caused her so much pain… it was all my fault… I lost the only woman at the time who… understood me and loved me unconditionally."
Misty looked down and sighed; there is still some humanity left in him, she thought to herself, then again, what choice do I have marryin' him?
"A man appeared," Michael continued, wiping his eyes. "His name was Dr. Ben Harmon, a spirit bound to the house. He would have been my father, but… he wasn't, technically. Yet he treated me more like a son than my own father did. He… talked with me… played ball with me, taught me chess… fostered my growth. He saw promise in me, and I was willing to change my ways. I wanted to become good. I had not thought of harming anyone or thing while with Ben… that was… until my father, as the other spirits told me he was, berated and outright rejected me…to my face."
"T-That must be hard, Michael," Misty said sadly, feeling his pain. "I know what it's like to be rejected. I…was burnt alive by my community after a revival. Even when I brought myself back, I hid out and felt… like an outcast. I felt lost… I couldn't find my tribe… until the school took me in."
Michael looked at her, frightening her and Nan slighty as they noticed his eyes, peering at them from under his brow, turned pitch black; "you take souls from the precipice of life and death and bring them back. Have you ever thought of erasing some from existence?"
Misty was taken aback, looking back at Nan. The two witches held hands tightly, for dear life, as if he planned to erase them from existence. Closing her eyes, she continued to listen and braced herself in case he did just that to her captive soul. His eyes turned back to their human blue-green color and he continued to share anecdotes from his early life; before Hawthorn, before the Seven Wonders, before abducting Misty and taking her down to the underworld.
"A lesbian couple moved into the house. They didn't belong there. I… took my father's gimp suit and assumed his role entirely. I wanted to be like him, make him proud, if I could. Yet I wanted to be good in case my grandmother was watching and wanted to see me. I killed them both and did something I never did before. I burned their souls out of the fabric of reality. Ben came to me, catching me in the act, and that was the last time I saw him. I cried… hearing him say… I-I was beyond help, basically. My own mother, also bound to the house, tried to kill me in my sleep, but I woke up and almost did the same to her soul until my father saved her and got her out of the way. Somehow, the weirdest thing happened…"
Oh dear, Misty thought, even his own mother tried killin' him. No wonder he's got a genuine hatred for the world.
"The house caught the attention of a local Satanic cult… that is where I met the other guest I would want at our wedding tonight… Miriam Mead. She raised me after all this. She opened her heart, mind, and home to me. I miss her. She is still alive but has no way of coming down here to attend. She is a regular human, not like you or me. She has no access to the underworld. I'd invite her in a heartbeat," he continued, nodding slowly. "They held a ceremony, I was guest of honor so to speak. A young virgin girl was brought in unconscious, dressed in white, anointed by their priest, and her… heart was carved from her chest. Mrs. Mead gave me this offering, and I could just feel her vibration… full of reverence and endearment… I took the heart from the offering bowl and I ate it. I felt truly in my element. I was not meant to become a 'good boy'. I am the son of the Devil himself… it is not in my nature. I bring chaos to this world, and…" He looked at Misty, taking her aback as he got up from the sofa the three sat on and got on his knees before his bride to-be, looking up into her eyes as he continued, "I need my balance, my counterpart. I am like a god, and you will be like a goddess, my consort. You bring life and light, I bring death and darkness. You bring out the humanity in me. I am a better person with you. I felt that connection when I brought you back, darling."
Misty looked down at him and took her shaking hand up to his face, caressing his cheek as he started to smile from her light touch. What he said next made her heart shake.
"Let's pull back the wedding," he said. "I need to be one with you, my love, and sooner. I cannot wait anymore."
"A-Are you sure?" Misty asked, a little apprehensive. "I…I was hopin' I could get… cleaned up first… b-before the weddin'. C-Can we stick with… the original time?"
"As you wish it," he said, "but I cannot wait."
"Michael," Nan said, "I know I'm not in any place to say it, but… I think the rise of the moon is more than enough time for both of you."
He looked at the Down syndrome girl and shook his head; "you're right. I need to get my fine suit out anyhow."
Queenie had eaten light that evening at dinner. By about 6:30pm, they all had cleaned up from the meal. Cordelia, Myrtle, Zoe, and Madison all met in the ancestry room, and Queenie looked out the window. The Supreme stared down into the crystal ball, but her view to the underworld was obstructed. She shook her head with frustration and anticipation, wanting to see the conditions before Queenie attempted Descensum to go down there.
"I can't see anything!" she exclaimed.
"Let me try," Queenie said, getting away from the window. She looked at Zoe, pointing toward the window; "watch for the moonrise."
Zoe went an moved the curtains aside, peering up at the sky as Queenie went to the crystal ball and sat next to Cordelia. Gathering herself, she peered into the glass to see an unveiled Misty staring into the mirror on her side. Nan, dressed in a pleated evergreen evening down with a luxurious necklace, bracelet and earring set, her hair in a chignon and her makeup done to perfection, was doing Misty's hair in a similar fashion behind her, working her fingers through her soft golden curls.
"She's getting her hair done," Queenie said. "Nan is doing it." Then, as if talking to her old friend, she waved into the crystal ball. "Hey, girl!"
"You should probably start now," Zoe said. "I can see the moon rising from here."
"Alright…" Queenie said, waving her hand over the crystal ball and getting into position on the floor, relaxing her entire body and crossing her arms over her chest, a signature move when using Descensum. The other witches looked on and bade her good luck. "This is it."
"We'll be here when you come back," Zoe said, sitting on the floor next to Queenie's still body. With a deep breath, she started to say aloud:
"Spiritu duce, in me est.
Deduce me in tenebris vita ad extremum,
ut salutaret inferi…"
After one more deep breath to brace herself, she was off: "descensum!"
A/N:
Thank you to everyone who has reviewed my story. I'm so glad you all are enjoying it so far! I hope I didn't spoil this week's episode too much for anybody. Stay tuned as we enter the underworld with Queenie to try and save Misty from being bound to Michael forever in their demonic wedding ceremony...to get a notification of the next (climactic) chapter, Follow me or the story... or both!