"Sniff! Sniff!" What is she doing, sniffing me?
My God, this has reached the end of the line.
"You! You've met her!"
Okay, I managed to get him talking, or rambling....
"Met who? Maybe, Roberto, you're referring to that girl you were telling me about?"
"You've been with her! You, you touched her, you touched her, you touched her..." He continues obsessively, in a frenzy. What is he saying? I have to calm him down.
"No, trust me, I swear...I've never seen her."
Oh my God! He's shaking. Sara looks at me hallucinating. If she keeps this up, ten to one she'll burst into tears....
"Enough David...now leave the room..., please!" That's it, exactly: a flood of tears.
My heart clenches at that plea.
"Yes, of course. I'll be right out."
I get out of bed and look resignedly at my friend.
"Get well soon..."
A barely whispered phrase, who knows if he heard me.
With my hand I make a sign to Sara.
"I'll wait for you outside, I need to talk to you." Nodding, she gently strokes her brother to calm him down.
Minutes pass and I try to reorganize my few confused ideas.
Sara walks out of the room and wipes her eyes, now contoured by a black halo of loose makeup. I get up and walk towards her. She looks soothed again.
"I'm sorry if I was a little abrupt earlier, it's just..."
"Don't worry, it's okay."
In her shoes, I might have even been less diplomatic.
"I wanted to ask you something." I take time to phrase the request in a way that doesn't give her false hope.
"Here, I was wondering if you could give me the keys to his apartment...you know, I have some ideas to try to figure out what happened." I nip her question in the bud.
"It's nothing concrete, I'd just like to take a look on her computer, maybe I'll find something interesting."
Her facial muscles relax. I convince her.
"Yes, that's fine. But please, whatever you find out, you'll have to let me know right away." Depends.
"Of course, of course!" Categorical as a maybe.
Six more floors to walk: freaking elevator!
I pick up the set of keys Sara gave me. I weigh it: it's going to be a pound! With all these key chains attached, it looks more like a defensive weapon.
Sixth attempt: I finally guessed the right key. I open the door and enter. Pitch darkness.
I turn on the light and...god what a mess! The last time I went in, I hadn't noticed that Roberto was so messy. Wait a minute, the laundry is fine, but the shards on the floor of the lamp really seem excessive. After all, the way he looked, he may have been so sick he couldn't make it to clean up. I can smell a nauseating odour, maybe it would be better to open the windows and let it air out.
I have to remember to tell Sara to come and clean up: this house is really pitiful!
Here's the computer, I turn it on. Luckily no password, blessed ingenuity.
Let's see if there's something interesting in the documents folder.
Nothing. Okay, go with Internet Explorer, I doubt he has Firefox or Chrome installed or familiar with it anyway.
Let's check the history: anthology of witchcraft, necromancy, demonology... but what the heck kind of sites does he visit? He's completely nuts. I wonder if I can find anything useful.
Got it! Here's what I've been looking for, at least I hope so: Chat the spirits.
With a little luck I might find someone and chat with them.
It's as deserted as a cemetery, just to stay on topic. I'd say wait until later, maybe someone will connect. In the meantime, it wouldn't hurt to do a thorough scan of your computer's hard drive. I realize it's like violating a person's privacy, but it's necessary if I want to find a minimum of information.
The grinder takes its time. I focus my attention on a folder with a strange name: Black Moon, could it be a collection of daring photos? Let's check the contents.
It contains dozens of written documents, it looks like material downloaded from those strange sites.
Beep! Each image suddenly disappears from the monitor.
"Beep? What do you mean, beep? The power had to go out right now?"
All right, don't panic. I take advantage of the pause and take a tour of the house. The bedroom. Let's see if there are any diaries with phone numbers in the bedside table.
It's full of strange knick-knacks: a white candle and a black one: both used, an embroidered ribbon, bells, a mirror and this strange dust, what is it? Sniff! It smells like incense.
But yes! That's what the smell was when I walked in: incense!
I wish someone would explain to me if it's normal to have such items in the nightstand! Thinking back, though, I seem to remember something I read a while back about it... something that had to do with these materials for some pagan ritual.
Let's venture a hypothesis: the nutcase, that is Roberto, out of the blue and for an arcane and unknown reason, begins to be interested in esotericism, he knows some crazy people in a chat room that induce him to perform strange rituals and take mysterious hallucinogenic substances that reduce him to a rag.
This might be the best theory to unravel the whole thing, or almost. The strange note lies in the fact that doctors did not find any particular substances in his blood. Could it be that he used drugs so sophisticated that they couldn't be detected so easily, because they were expelled through bleeding? It would take a chemist, and I, unfortunately, am a simple insurance man.
I'm starting to get hungry, a nice pizza would be nice while waiting for midnight, if the power comes back on.
Beep! The computer turns back on along with the lights in the room.
Fantastic! Apparently in this house you just have to want things.
Six more goddamn floors on foot! If I had thought of it sooner, I would have fasted. At least I digested the pizza.
I catapult myself onto the couch. The day has been destructive and the good thing is that it's not over yet.
Let's get back on the internet. Let's see what exactly this black moon thing is.
It seems that this is another nickname used for the figure of Lilith and that this was even the first woman of Adam created by God, for him and like him, from the mud.
Legend says that she escaped from Adam because, judging herself equal with him, she did not want to submit, especially during sexual relations... ah!
Lilith, moreover, pronounced angrily the name of God, took flight and left the garden of Paradise taking refuge on the shores of the Red Sea. Leaving the Paradise on her own initiative, before the fall of man and not touching the Tree of Knowledge, she was not condemned to mortality. Fled into the desert and met the Djinns, with whom she mated. It was generated so a line of demons called Lilim. This rebellion did not go unnoticed by God who sent three angels, Senoy, Sansenoy and Semangelof, to convince Lilith to return with Adam. A terrible punishment was the answer to her categorical refusal: almost all her children were exterminated. Since then, her hatred towards men was nourished over the centuries, as well as the mortal danger for all those who wanted to hinder her revenge.
A story with a happy ending, no doubt about it. While it's undoubtedly a tale of terror, a warning to mind your own business is there, and I'm a guy who generally respects such things.
Below are also the rituals for conjuring it, with a marked note that absolutely discourages men from performing them. Wait, you want to bet that this list contains the same items I found in the drawer?
I'll check: I won a goldfish.
Now, more than ever, I'm sure that Roberto has already recoiled before he got sick.
Let's enter the famous chat room and see if I can catch some more goldfish in the net...
He wants a nickname, a nickname: Apollo sounds good, he's the God of the sun, he's what we need to keep our distance.
There are five people in the chat room, let's hope to catch the right ones. I'll enter.
Got it! It can only be him!
Yes! Got one of the mystery group.
Alright, but let's not get off topic: I want the name of the club.
Angel? And the girl would be...
The Harley Davidson! The same bike I saw that woman on. Coincidence?
I'm not aware of Roberto having any special interest.
1
He's in the hospital reduced to a vegetative state.
His pc is on, he is the one who is off.
It's about time! I'll take notes.
I'm going to stay and listen a little longer, maybe if they think I'm gone, they'll let something interesting slip?
What a drag... I've been listening to the chatter about this damn conference for over an hour without getting any useful information.
Found it! And with that, mysterious Angel, you've won the role of possible inquisitor!
Unplugged.
I've marked everything, as a start it's not bad, at least this way I have more information than before, even if honestly I haven't yet understood what I'm looking for.
Maybe the bed, since I'm collapsing and tomorrow I have to go to the office. Better to go home.
Chapter 3
The Dream
"Spider's Web..."
Found it, finally! This is supposed to be the club, not really my cup of tea, hopefully at least the beer is decent.
I usually don't like to judge by appearances, but these guys out here look like they've been out of jail for no more than a couple of hours. What the hell was I thinking coming to this place? At least they were in a group, but I'm venturing out on my own. The good thing is that there is a queue and... why is this human mountain staring at me? Indifference, Davide, don't look at him, show indifference...
I lower my gaze and rummage through the pockets of my leather jacket pretending to look for something, then with a distracted air I cast a fleeting glance at the man. Damn, he must be at least 6'2" and 130 kilos and he keeps staring at me. A deafening roar gives me the excuse to turn my eyes on the road... the black Harley! Could it be her? I capture all the details of the scene. She parks the bike on the sidewalk near the others. She takes off her helmet and whips the air with her long hair. It's really her! I quickly try to take cover so as not to be noticed and use the giant in front as a shield. I watch her while she gets off the bike like an elegant panther and with a confident step she heads towards the club. The hiding place works very well, she passes me without seeing me. She goes straight to the entrance and greets the security man, who lets her in immediately after a nod.
"Nice bike, isn't it?"
Aroused by the scene, I catch the words coming from above. It's Cyclops, who with a grimace that should summon a smile, tries to interact with me.
"Wh... what?" I stutter, taken aback.
"The Harley. It's a stunner! Sure, in a woman's hand it's wasted, but at least she's holding it together."
"Yeah, she's a real gem," I reply shyly.
"I'm sorry I was staring at you before, but you look incredibly like a friend of mine and I thought you were him. Your name wouldn't happen to be Caesar?" He rubs his hand over his thick beard and I breathe a sigh of relief.
"No, I'm sorry, I'm not him."
I keep looking at the front of the line, trying to catch a glimpse of something at the entrance.
"This is your first time at the Canvas, isn't it?"
I humour him with a nod.
"Fridays are always like this. In fact, the line is sometimes twice as long, but it's worth it, believe me!"
"Yes, I have no doubt about that."
"Of course, it would be nice to be like Angela, to arrive and get in right away, but..."
Stop, what was her name?
"Angela? Are you referring to the biker girl?"
If he knows her I'll play the lottery tomorrow.
"Of course! She's the dancer. I come here mostly to see her dancing. She's stunner!"
Okay, I jump off the diving board and jump in. Hopefully there's enough water.
"Do you think I could meet her? I mean, talk to her even for a second?"
I'm starting to think I haven't really thrown the night away.
"You're a connoisseur, huh? Ha! Ha!" He laughs guff wily and pats me on the back that crushes me. Tomorrow I'm going for an x-ray.
"I could, but I warn you: that one's a special kind, it's hard to interest her, she's on another level!"
Yes, for someone like you I have no doubt.
"I'll take my chances. What's your name?"
Better to make friends with him than like anything else.
"Franco, glad to meet you. But to my friends Buba."
At the risk of dying, I swear if his name had been Goliath, I would have burst out laughing in his face. He wipes his sweaty hand on his jeans and hands it to me.
"I'm Davide, nice to meet you...Buba."
I repress all my disgust at shaking that calloused big hand.
In the meantime the line has moved on and we are in front of the door.
The bouncer looks at us, or rather looks at Buba, since the two are about the same height.
"Nice, Buba, right on time as hell again tonight."
"Like every shitty Friday, bro'!"
Just conventions.
"Is this with you?" He points at me like he would a Chihuahua and while he waits for the answer he whispers into his earpiece, giving himself the airs of a CIA agent.
"Sure! Can we come in?" Buba smiles at me, giving me a satisfied nudge with her elbow.
"Please, come in, Friday night is 10 euros: show and first drink included."