Blood Red

“Will I ever get married?” Deanna asked.

Susan shrugged. “Your palm is not telling me. I can say that you are passionate and giving, and that you are quite capable of creating fire, passion—and love—around you.”

“I like that,” Deanna said.

Lauren looked at her, trying to avoid Susan’s eyes. Lots of people could have said that to you, her stern gaze said.

“Your turn,” Deanna said.

“Ah, the crystal ball for our talented young artist,” Susan murmured. She didn’t move, though, and her eyes were downcast.

“I think Susan is tired,” Lauren said.

“Oh no, you are not getting out of this!” Heidi insisted.

“May I see more fully?” Susan asked.

Lauren handed her the drawing she had done.

“You are very kind,” she murmured. “You have caught me on paper with great beauty.”

“I want to work more on it. I’ll send you a copy when I’m done,” Lauren told her.

Susan nodded and handed back the drawing. Lauren flipped her sketchbook closed and returned it to her purse.

“It seems like you’ve had a busy night. You look tired. You really don’t have to do another reading,” Lauren said.

“She’s trying to get out of this,” Heidi explained.

Susan stood. She wasn’t smiling. “I think that we must look into the crystal ball.”

Heidi and Deanna started to rise.

“There is only room in the tent for one—I’m sorry. The crystal ball is quite different from the palm and the cards.”

Susan waited gravely, and at last Lauren followed her into the tent, the sounds from the street and the night receding. As she sat in the chair opposite Susan, the world outside all but disappeared.

“Your fiancé, he was a soldier?” Susan asked, staring into the crystal ball.

Startled, Lauren looked at her. “Yes.”

“I’m very sorry, truly. But…there are those who believe there are certain fates we cannot avoid, and others who believe we have a hand in our own futures. Perhaps many people lived because your young man died,” she said softly.

“Thank you. I like to think that,” Lauren murmured.

“You don’t date much.”

“I’ve dated.”

Susan smiled enigmatically.

“What?” Lauren asked.

“You don’t date much because you feel that you meet nothing but dimwits and users since you lost your man.”

“It’s hard to meet the right person.”

They had been chatting casually, almost as if they were engaged in a normal conversation at any one of the smaller cafes or bars in the city. But Lauren realized that something had been subtly changing since she had come into the little tent.

The crystal ball had begun to glow, to fill with a red mist.

She stared at it, unable to tear her eyes away. She only dimly noted Susan’s face, registering as if from a great distance that the other woman looked tense, even distressed.

“You must leave here…you and your friends…must go.”

“Yes,” Lauren said.

But she couldn’t move. It felt as if she were frozen where she sat, as if her very muscles were paralyzed.

There was something dark at the core of the crystal ball, dark and red, finding form as the milliseconds ticked by.

It was a bird. A winged thing.

Then it was not.

It took the shape of a man. Tall, the face dark, the figure imposing.

A sound seemed to rise in her ears, and she realized that it was laughter. Deep, rich, taunting-and cruel.

She heard words.

So soft at first that she couldn’t understand what was being said. Then she knew.

“I’m coming for you. I’m coming to get you.”

“No,” Lauren murmured, struggling for sanity, for reality. Someone had heard them talking earlier. Someone had heard the words that Deanna had spoken teasingly.

“Lauren…” The dark figure called her by name. “I’m coming to get you, Lauren….”

“No!”

“I’m coming to get you, and you’ll be mine in a world of blood and death and darkness.”

Susan suddenly jumped up, as if she, too, had suddenly broken of the invisible bonds holding her there.

She made a strange sound and her arm flew out.

The crystal ball flew off the table and shattered on the ground.