~1~ a Lover’s Retreat
It was a crisp Fall morning. The scent of cardamom and allspice filled the air as crunchy leaves fell over the grass. In the lush Nature Preserve of Hallen-Branck Park, two young lovers unzipped their tent to start a brand new day.
The scent of Blood Jerky -- a still-beating Beef Jerky -- wafted around the lakeside retreat of this place. Thin birch trees littered the distant glow of a secluded, yet well kept, forest. Only a few maple trees reached up to the cloudy sky.
As she had just freshened up -- hair, toes, mouth, and all -- Drusilla Valcyon threw on her white bohemian dress. It had a floral design, full of red roses. She smelled of oud, amber, and saffron. Her auburn hair was as curly as ever.
Under the glow of this September sun, her tan skin betrayed all kinds of freckles. She tossed back a bag of Blood Jerky and some cut-up Honeydew with pistachio-based trail mix. As she ran to the Hallen-Branck River, on Earth #279, she almost began to flap her ankle-wings.
For who better to chase after her, than her dearest lover, Lahwin Requiette?
“Catch me if ya can, Winnie!” Drusilla teased, her British accent echoing.
“Winnie?” Lahwin’s eye twitched as he glided on his boomerangs. “Oh, you’re on!”
Drusilla unleashed her ankle-wings and set her sights on a bright lake. It was a glistening body of water that slowly eroded away the park’s hills. It smelled of salty brine and swampy leaves. With their shriveled and chipped bark, river birch trees grew crowded by the embankment.
Drusilla let her auburn curls float with majestic indifference as she glided above the water. She gave another playful wink as she spotted Lahwin zipping right past her. The breeze blew her dress up. She crossed her arms with a glare. Lahwin just gave a thumbs-up and skidded further across the lake’s surface.
He hovered across the wild catfish on his boomerangs. He had a prominent speaker equipped to the front of his sandalwood boomerangs. The speaker blared a hybrid pop song of Japanese drums with some Romani vocals. It was some sort of Flamenco music.
Lahwin’s black bangs swayed to the side. They had grown out a little longer these days. He still had that wide-eyed and crimson-red stare as the son of Queen Alisandra Requiette. As he flew across the other end of the river, Drusilla sped beside him. She tossed him a plastic bag full of figs.
“Ah, figs, eh? You know I think these things barely have any flavor!” Lahwin said, but caught it. He ripped it open at the top. As he popped a few back, the song on his speaker changed. It was now a relaxing rap song in the Roma language. “Ya know babe, it was quite the mistake letting me have the Aux Cord.”
“I fear what kinds of rabbit holes you go down when you listen to Internet Music without me. And here I thought, as you being the budding Prince of the Undertow, that you’d try and expand your palate, you pale brat!” Drusilla blew a raspberry.
“P-- Pale brat?” Lahwin sagged. “Just ’cuz I’m not as sun-kissed as you doesn’t mean I’m pale! You wanna see pale? You should see the Tamarind sorceresses when they get sick with the Lauryladuhr Plague.”
“Oh my God? That sounds awful, Lahwin!”
“Eh, they just call it a plague so they can have free medicine from Mom. That’s like… really the only reason any District declares a ‘state of emergency’, these days. Politics, politics, politics.”
“Ugh! I don’t wanna think of politics. We’re on vacation, babe! And I wanna keep teasing you. Heck, while we’re at it,” Drusilla pinched Lahwin’s cheek. “I was thinking I could play with your buccal. You’re still so bloody baby-faced, even at twenty-five.”
“Says you!”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah! You-- You… seriously cute, pumpkinny, acrobatic, cuddly-- GAH! Those aren’t even insults! I just love you!” Lahwin blushed as he got flustered.
“Well then, I wouldn’t mind getting a kiss from the prince. Even if he is a bit of a bloody silly goose. And, for the record,” Drusilla brought her thick lips up to Lahwin’s face. “I’m not ‘sun-kissed’, babe. It’s called being brown. I lived under a castle on an island for fifteen years and some change. I’m just of Indian descent.”
“Oh yeah?” Lahwin said in a still challenging voice.
Drusilla’s flirty expression went deadpan. “Wh-- What do you mean ‘oh yeah’? You can’t ‘oh yeah’ my bloody pedigree, Winnie! Now, get ready for the Kiss Monster! ’Cuz she’s hungry, and she’s taking no prisoners!”
Lahwin gulped, but put his arms around Drusilla’s hips. She kissed up and down his collar as they stood on his boomerangs. Drusilla released her fangs and gently scraped them across Lahwin’s neck. Lahwin bit his bottom lip and squeezed her bottom.
Drusilla gave a gasping giggle and licked the bits of blood she took from his nape. She protracted her claws, running them down his back. Lahwin sighed happily and hugged her tighter. Her amber, oud, and coconut scent made his mind go blank. Her thick curls enveloped him.
And, for the piece-de-la-resistance, Drusilla closed her eyes and kissed him longingly.
“Druse,” Lahwin caught his breath. “That was…”
“... freaky-deaky, yeah?” Drusilla clutched at his chest, her fangs retracting.
“Yeah.” Lahwin said with a long breath. “Yeah, I like that. ‘Freaky-Deaky’.”
Just as quickly, Drusilla whipped around. She unleashed her ankle-wings again. Lahwin readied his other boomerang and looked across the lake. Drusilla attacked the water, clawing at a school of catfish. Her sharp nails skewered a couple of them. Lahwin just watched with tight-lipped amazement. He shrunk the size of his boomerangs and hovered closer over the water.
“Just gotta grill up these bad boys and then KA-BLAM! Lunch’ll be served.” Drusilla said.
Lahwin smiled in triumph. “That’s my Druse. Hey, so,” He turned around back to the park’s cabins. “Weren’t we supposed to be camping here to find Neferav Krillies? I think that was our sub-section of the team’s goal.”
“Yeah, but who says we can’t do two things at once?”
“Oh, you’re one of those ‘not mutually exclusive types’, eh?” Lahwin teased.
“This isn’t an internet comment section, Winnie, so… yes.”
“Hah! I have to say, you really like playin’ as the devil on my shoulder. You are one ‘Smooth Goose, Druse’.” Lahwin grinned. He glided across the river as Drusilla followed suit. He looked from side to side, only seeing some old litter. Up ahead, another cabin had a group of old men and women trying to play guitar. They were drunk and carrying on. “Hmph. Don’t they just look like they’re having fun?”
“I concur.” Drusilla said before she burped. She shoved the caught fish into a plastic bag. As she popped another bag open, she tossed back a couple chunks of Blood Jerky. “Though it’s no sign of Krillies, if that’s what you mean.”
“Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t-- Oh, I know! We should try and find somethin’ spooky, Druse, like an abandoned cabin.”
“Lahwin. We already did that yesterday. This park has thirty of the blasted cabins, all separated by some eight-hundred square feet. We’d both tire ourselves out and, last I checked, they were filled to the brim. Didn’t you see how full Waschen Wave Park was? People shoulder-to-shoulder in the wave pool. It was like a concert! Only, ya know, in a pool.”
“My bad, Druse. I know how triggering pool concerts can be for you.”
“Oh, hush! What does that even mean?”
“Oh, I’ll hush alright,” Lahwin leaned in. “After you give me another kiss.”
Drusilla blushed as she bit her bottom lip. “Smooth.”
Then, Drusilla flew off with her ankle-wings. They sharply curved out from the edges of her ankles. They were a bit vascular and muscular. She dove straight for the Laundry Station, putting her hands in front of her to guide her glide.
Lahwin had his hands in his pockets, his white coat flapping in an oversized manner. He raised his brow at Drusilla’s determination as they reached the front doors. The different doors, tall and white, had signs above them which all read ‘Vacant’ in neon green.
Lahwin downsized his boomerangs to the shape of his hand. He then walked up to one of the doors and knocked on them. Drusilla gave him an odd look since the signs said, ‘Vacant’. Lahwin just chuckled before turning the knob.
It smelled of mothballs and spiderwebs. He took another step, noticing cracked glass on the floor. The building went back a little far. They were a lot like the Locker Rooms to a public pool. He turned to hold Drusilla’s hand. Drusilla grabbed it and gave it a squeeze. She kept her gaze forward, though, her lips straight.
Something was indeed off about the so-called ‘Laundry Room Cabin’.
The floorboards creaked beneath them. Lahwin tapped his foot against a stud in the floor. He applied some weight to that spot. Drusilla’s ears wiggled. Light and translucent hairs stood on end at the top of the spot. Drusilla turned to Lahwin, then looked down.
A gasp of cool air rushed up from the cracks in the wood. Lahwin looked back at her. They both nodded and reached down to pull back a trapdoor. As they jumped down, they both gasped. A whole other building -- long since abandoned -- still had a single running light beneath the ground floor.
The single running light only served to bathe an underground Laundry Room in a greenish and haunted glow. A support beam with mirrors on all four sides of it sat in the middle of the room. Drusilla ran to one side of the underground room. She looked over old pennies that had gotten rusty and moss-covered.
The minting of the pennies had read, ‘1935’. She shivered. The smell of old money caused her to gag. She patted the penny gently before moving onto a pile of fabric softeners that had browned with age. Her gaze also wandered to a metal trash can with scratch marks.
Lahwin ran to the complete other side of the room. He took note of scratch marks on the pipes that ran above their heads. On occasion, his mind played tricks on him. A dark shadow kept flying out of the corner of his eye, right into the support beam’s mirrors.
He shot a glare from the corner of his vision. Each time he whipped around, he saw nothing. A few feet ahead of him looked like some sort of exit. He put his hand around the knob. The door opened outward, but something had blocked its path.
To his surprise, he noticed a little doggy door at the bottom. He turned up the flap, only to be met with the smell of rust, dust, and dead musk. He coughed and turned back to his girlfriend, waving her over. Drusilla had already amassed a collection of old coins, dust bunnies, old letters from the trash can, ice cream scoopers, and even lighters.
As she drew nearer to Lahwin with curiosity, her face buckled with the motion to gag again.
“Hey! It’s okay. What do you smell?”
Drusilla collected herself and put her hand on Lahwin’s shoulder. “D-- Death.”
“Death? Uh, well, I mean, let’s be real, we are in some sorta underground laundry bunker. You don’t think this was someone’s last stand, do ya?”
“Sorry, love,” Drusilla shook her head, her curls frizzing a little. “It’s coming from over there. Let’s just say, it’s not exactly some week-old lasagna.”
Lahwin blinked. “Is it… two-week-old lasagna?”
“What? No.”
“Three-week-old--”
“It smells like bloody dead people!” Drusilla reached into the pockets of her floral dress. She tossed back a cactus flower mint and then sighed in relief. She took a deep breath as she began to blow a big bubble from the mint gum.
Lahwin ran back to the doggy door. He knelt down and really squinted at the area beyond it. His eyes took a bit to adjust to the darkness. The more he looked, however, the more it came into his view. He lunged back, his heart rattling in his chest.
Out from the flap rolled a disembodied head. It almost looked mummified. Almost. The skin had dried a long time ago. The jaw was fixed in a tight mid-bite motion. The eyes were midway open, but only dust had filled the sockets. The hair was brittle and matted.
Suddenly, after his clumsy slam into a nearby laundry machine, the machine turned on. Drusilla jumped up, her fangs protracting. Her senses of smell and hearing heightened even harder now. Lahwin got to his feet just the same, increasing his boomerangs to the size of one of the laundry machines.
He pointed one of them at the barricaded exit door. He gritted his teeth as he saw a shadow figure out of the corner of his eye again. This time, however, it was no bluff. Drusilla whipped around to see a gurgling group of Krillies. They were the normal, waxy-white kind. Their mouths dropped down to their collars as their skin bubbled and sloshed.
Drusilla extended her claws, cutting into a Krillie’s chest. Lahwin struck another Krillie. Then, it wrapped around Lahwin like a snake. That was when Lahwin’s other boomerang flipped through the room and slashed the ghost like a wad of rope.
“Join us.” Some of the other Krillies said. “Play with us!”
“Nah, no thanks. I’m more of a… ‘likes to play Frisbee’ kinda gal, and less of a… ‘haunting old lingerie’ kinda gal. Sorry to disappoint.”
As she clawed her way through the waxy, hollow stomach of one of the Krillies, Drusilla then found herself lunged at by two more. They pinned her to the floor, laughing and crying at the same time. She struggled and flailed, only for two more Krillies to pin her down.
They opened their mouths wide and screamed into her face. That was when she jutted out her ankle-wings like sharp daggers. The wings stabbed into the legs of the Krillies, giving them a momentary wobble. Drusilla punched one of them in the cheek, shifting its face to the right. She clawed at the two new Krillies like scratching posts, cutting them up into shreds.
“Jeez, are you sure you’re a Chiropticana and not, like, a cat?” Lahwin teased.
Drusilla playfully licked her backhand and purred. “Only if you like petting, sweet thing.”
“What about heavy-petting?”
“What other kind of petting is there, Winnie?”
Lahwin pointed to his temple. “Great minds, and all that jazz.”
As Drusilla went to throw another punch at a Krillie, all the Krillies began to retreat. Some flew back into the laundry machines. A few others flew back towards the barricaded door that led further into the facility. The laundry machine slowed down to a stop. Lahwin noticed a message inside of its metal.
The message was red and faded from the passing of time. The letter, written in blood, simply read, ‘Up’. Lahwin sighed and scratched his scalp before turning up at the gas pipes above them. He saw another note sticking out from the slits and vents. He levitated on one of his boomerangs to reach up and grab the note.
“To whoever finds this…” He floated back down and gave Drusilla the note.
Drusilla read it quietly. “... We are long since deceased. My family and I aimed to stay at Hallen-Branck Park for two weeks. We’re from the Eagle Bear Sect of the Bear Agent Man-Building Club. Wait, what the blood is ‘Man-Building’? Ugh, can somebody say, ‘pastiche’?”
“Damn! Those poor Man Bear Builders. If only they knew that Drusilla Valcyon was shit-talking them as we speak.”
“Yuhuh. Anyway! With over 400 divisions across the world, we thought our Fraternity would keep an eye out for us. We were more than incorrect. It has been three weeks since the Great Disaster. Our rations are running low. No one is coming for us. The exits caved in almost immediately on the day of the crash. The sun has escaped our view eternally as of last night. Why does it feel like…” Drusilla gulped as she reached the letter’s end. “... we’ve been slowly sinking underground-- Holy shit, was this place once above the land?”
“This must’ve been the original laundry room. They built over it!”
“Then that must mean… that the barricade beyond the door…”
“... And those Krillies we fought…” Lahwin looked up at the ceiling.
Drusilla nodded slowly. She rolled up the letter and put it in her pocket. She ran over to the trapdoor that led back out to the modern laundry room. Lahwin levitated after her. The two of them stayed in their specific stall as they heard a group of park rangers enter the laundry cabin. Drusilla put her hand over Lahwin’s mouth. Once the workers walked out, the pair also followed.
________
The next day, Drusilla found herself in a new bohemian dress. Lahwin had just finished showering, flicking the water off his bangs. He walked outside in just a bathrobe. Drusilla was looking over the main gravel road of the cabins. The haunted laundry cabin, from last night, was right across the street.
Beside them, a family of older people was standing on their cabin’s porch. They had a grill going. Drusilla put a hand to her stomach as it gurgled in hunger. Lahwin put his arm around her as she nestled her head into his neck.
“I can hear your stomach, babe.” Lahwin smirked. “We run outta Blood Jerky already?”
“I mean, I was in the mood for some grilled chicken and pudding.”
“Pudding? That’s oddly British of you. And here I thought it was just the accent.”
“Your face has an accent!”
“Touche.”
Drusilla shifted and put her arm around Lahwin, even though he was taller. “How’s about I make you the small spoon for once, eh?”
Lahwin blushed. “Hehe, you want me to be the small spoon? Really? I should be so lucky, but… me? Is that, like, cool or-- What if people see?”
“Oh my God! Lahwin, last night, you were literally inside me! You can’t bloody be ashamed to be the little spoon at this stage in the game, Winnie. Besides,” Drusilla softly whispered in Lahwin’s ear while nibbling on his earlobe. “Who else is gonna make me feel like a princess?”
Lahwin bit his bottom lip. “Hey, y’ever thought about going into construction?”
At this, Drusilla blinked, deadpan. “B-- Beg your pardon?”
“Because you’re really good at erecting things!” Lahwin stood tall. “Such as my dick--”
“Excuse me, miss,” Came an old lady’s voice. “But I just couldn’t help but notice how gorgeous your dress was from afar. My family and I are staying this week. Figured I’d come over and make some new friends. Get comfortable and all that. With the other cabin-goers. You look like the pinnacle of comfort in that dress. And those sleeves and that collar… look like the pinnacle of free-flowing movement.”
An old woman with white curly hair at the top of her head stood hunched over. She didn’t have a cane, instead opting to fold her arms behind her back. As she smiled, Drusilla could make out the shiny reflections of metal crowns on some of the woman’s molars. The woman put out a hand to shake. Drusilla shook her hand as Lahwin still stood in mid-speech.
“Thank you. It’s--” Drusilla did a little twirl in her dress. “... It’s the fabric of my people. Makes me feel closer to them, even if it’s been so long since we’ve been connected to our ancestry.”
The woman twitched as she nodded, betraying her age. “That’s wonderful. I hate to be nosy, but mind if I ask what ancestry it is, perchance?”
“Romani.” Drusilla shrugged, but still smiled.
The old woman’s smile perked up. She looked back at her family on their porch. As she stared at an old man over there for quite a while, presumably her husband, the man gave a curmudgeon nod and walked down the stairs with a cane. He was hunched over a lot more and had a banjo strapped to his back. Lahwin gasped with worry as the man tripped a few times.
The terrain of their vacation site was quite uneven. The old man reminded them of that with each step he took. He grunted and groaned as he made his way over to his wife. The man unstrapped his banjo so it fell right into his grasp. He held it almost like an electric guitar. Drusilla and Lahwin stood close. The old man quietly played his guitar.
“I know about your people.” The old woman cleared her throat as she gestured to her husband and his guitar. “I happened to marry one of them.”
The man’s eyes widened with an excitement likely not seen in years. He had a thick mustache and a slight sallow to his skin. He gave a quick strum of his guitar. A strange vivaciousness overtook his fingertips as they sped faster across the strings. “A fellow Roma.”
Drusilla whistled. “A fellow Roma indeed!”
“Good to meet you! I… am what the Wikipedia Articles will have to call… Balkan-Iberian. Yaritzo Koshtiza Esmer. But I’ve told everyone to call me… Ol’ Yammer… ever since I fought in the Armed Forces.” He said as he fiddled with his guitar.
It wasn’t the sound of a country bumpkin, however. The music was the sound of uptempo Balkan music, like Greek or, of course, Roma. The old man ran his left hand down the frets of the instrument.
He strummed the center with his right hand like it could be his last song ever. He tapped his foot over the gravel, his back slowly un-hunching. He stood taller and taller. To make matters even more special, his eyes remained closed.
Lahwin, of all people, couldn’t help but move to the rhythm. He jerked his legs out as he twirled his fingers through the air like some kind of hippie. Drusilla turned around and cackled. She tried to stifle her laugh for a few good seconds but eventually she had to give in.
Lahwin looked like a total cartoon character.
Suddenly, the man slowed the tempo of his song. He focused on a few chords that drew Drusilla’s and Lahwin’s dance to a crawl. Drusilla and Lahwin then did a two-step improv, holding each other’s hands under the morning sun.
Drusilla even allowed Lahwin to twirl her around as she spun back behind him. Her luscious auburn curls twirled along with her white dress. Her dress, which had the symbol of a red wheel with blue birds.
“They’re just like us when we were their age.” The old woman said.
The old man then picked up the pace in his song. He stomped his foot quicker and quicker, kicking up gravel and dust over the trail by the cabin. He laughed as he drummed his hand against the guitar’s neck. “That’s it! Yes, they are.”
Drusilla hopped on her feet faster and faster. Lahwin followed her every move as best he could. He locked his fingers between hers. They paused for a tight hug, looking into each other’s eyes. Drusilla planted a quick kiss on his chin. Lahwin bit his bottom lip and made a motion to kiss her back, but she twirled around behind him.
As their tempo increased, Drusilla spun him around by his hips. Lahwin two-stepped to the side, mirroring Drusilla’s every move. They kicked up their own dust as Drusilla swayed her hips. Lahwin sauntered from side to side like some sort of lizard. He ran forward and clasped his lover in a tight embrace to the music. Drusilla couldn’t help but laugh lovingly.
The little improv concert slowed to a crawl, though, quieting down across the trail. Lahwin couldn’t help himself as he pressed his lips to Drusilla’s. The old couple clapped for them. Drusilla’s body warmed as she pressed her hand against Lahwin’s sternum. She couldn’t help but grip his shirt, gently running her nails down his collar.
“Oh, by the way,” The old woman sighed. “I saw you two hunting for fish directly in the river yesterday. We were thinking of fishing today! We needed to go to the store and get some supplies. You don’t have to, but… you’re more than welcome to join us.”
Lahwin and Drusilla looked at each other, and then shrugged.
“I don’t need supplies myself.” Drusilla smiled.
“Natural-born hunter, this one.” Lahwin gestured. “Long story.”
Drusilla jumped up with excitement. “But let’s get on, regardless! I wonder if they have any cool sunglasses at this store.”
“Oh, you and sunglasses.”
“Yes. Me and sunglasses!”
________
