ML4D '92

"Master Shaman, I have come, with my dolly

from the shadow-side, with a demon and an

English nun-I'm my mother, I'm my son...

...and all the Angels, and all the Wizards

black and white are lighting candles in

our hands, can you see them? yes, touching

hands before our eyes...Sister Janet, you

have come, from the woman clothed with the

sun, your veil is quietly becoming none.

Call the Wander, he has come and all those

up there are making it look so easy, spread

your perfect wing, a wing can cover all

sorts of things..."

When he had rummaged through the contents that lay neatly lined in a small folder that was lying on the desk, he turned back to her. With a creamy white paper hanging limply from his hands he sat, facing her, nose to nose. She wanted to spit in his face, but her tongue was so swollen that the effort to do so would have been pointless. He began again, only now waving the bit of paper to and fro as he spoke.

"Yes my pretty dear, you'll die here-but not to worry, you'll be well cared for. A woman with your ingenuity should find a thousand things to keep her mind occupied here. Three square meals a day, warm room, fashionable wardrobe-that is when wardrobe is necessary, charming company, lots of books oh, you'll be cared for my lovely-and in the end-isn't that what you girls always wanted? Some one to take care of you?" He finished sardonically, pushing his chair backwards with the heels of his feet and taking her chin in his long square tipped fingered hand.

She leaned over slightly, as much as the ropes would allow, and whispered something faintly to his shoulder.

He looked over, as if a little taken aback, and then leaned in closer to the swollen lips.

"What was that my lovely, couldn't quite hear you." His accent was thicker than soured honey as he spoke out loud, even though there was seemingly no one else in the tiny room.

"fuck you" she choked and then leaned back into the restrains that bound her, inmate like to the high backed wooden chair.

He drew the long white hand back over his shoulder, and then brought it crashing against the right side of her face with a sharp clap. She didn't even see the hairless white hand coming, the only way she was even slightly warned of the blow was the sound of it's mass swooping down from the air. The swift sound the air hurling in her direction caused her to jerk to the left, but that too was in vein.

Her head lurched sideways at an odd angle, causing her already stiff neck to crack, and damage areas that she could all to suddenly feel throbbing at the base of her brain.

"That is no language for a lady to be speaking. You'll hold your ill tempered tongue dear girl, or you'll literally be holding it in the palm of your pretty hand!"

Wither or not she believed his threat was of no matter at this point, she had no strength left to waste insulting him. She kept all her energies focused on keeping herself from passing out due to sheer exhaustion. She would not submit, but at this point-she could not fight.

"Now," the Englishman began jovly," that little thither aside, we should finish up business. Welcome to Limbo, your here obviously because a) your pretty, b) you've broken some kind of law c) this is your salvation d) because your far to talented to lock away in some political prison over some trivial matter or another. So someone had added your name to the admissions list and after careful review, you've been admitted into Limbo. You can think of it as a...a sort of celestial resort club, if you will."

He paused a moment to sum up her reaction. She stared at him hard, but her face was blank.

"Your here to give back to the 'Community'. To serve others in redemption for the crime you have committed,"

She wanted to say she committed no crime-that this was all a terrible mistake, but she had seen just how far that had gotten her the first time. The fact that she had no tongue to tell the Englishman this now was proof of how effective explanation worked and just how interested these people were in the truth of the matter.

"After your sentence is fulfilled you will remain in Limbo to train other wayward girls, just as you will be trained in specific duties assigned to you personally by our Board of Directors as well as the general obligations you will have to complete for your various hosts. For this service you will receive reasonable payment as well as, what you might call, club benefits. But until then you will learn to find," he paused for a moment and smiled into his fist as he chucked light heartedly, "to find what one woman delightfully

called it-happiness in slavery. Can't remember the woman's name, genius of a woman though, it's a shame I don't recall who she was-oh a writer of some sort or another, but it's no bother now."

She lowered her head.

"Well then," the Englishman said after a long pause as he stood suddenly extending his hand seemingly out of habit towards her shackled frame, "formalities aside, I believe introductions are due."

She lifted her head wearily to stare at his outstretched hand. The background was beginning to blur and warp into a swirl of colors sliding together. She blinked her gray eyes in shock rapidly several times, and the warping vanished. Body still bound to the high backed chair she then proceeded to look at the Englishman with contempt for such a gesture of mockery. 'You untie me you son of a bitch and I'll do a little more than shake your hand!' her inner voice hissed.

The man caught her mood almost immediately and withdrew his hand with a quick yank. He grinned again down towards the woman's red hair.

"Sorry there love, force of habit. Just the same, my name is Uriel."

The Englishman's voice relaxed on the sudden. She had to look twice just to be sure it was the same entity that was so dictatorial only a few moments earlier. It was. Only a sudden softness seemed to have settled over him, like a cloud or a light, she wasn't sure. It could have been the exhaustion taking control of her senses.

The man turned on one heel in a swift graceful movement that gave her the impression that his feet were not touching the floor, he moved as if he were suspended just a quarter of an inch above the floor. He retrieved the folder with nimble fingers and turned to face her again. Opening the creamy folder with a light gesture her scanned it's contends with his crystal clear blues eyes. She had seen something in those eyes, something reflecting, something moving with bright colors that danced over his retina. It was impossible, she leaned over to examine his open eyes further, yes, there was something there-dancing, some kind of carnival or or-she found herself lost on what to call it, but she saw it-in the reflection of his eyes! He was reading through the folder silently but the words were not reflecting in his eyes! She gasped suddenly as the ropes pulled at her chest, and fell back with a sharp exhale of breath.

Uriel looked up with a start, and the dancing figures in his eyes were gone. A smile tugged at his lips as he examined her expression. Suddenly he looked young and gentle and handsome and soft and...she pressed her own eyes tightly shut. 'Hallucinations, your only starting to see things Ash, your tired and hungry and your hallucinating.'

"And your Ashton Aubrey, that's an interesting name, is your family from England?" his tone was almost musical now and she opened her eyes slightly.

"North Carolina" she choked dully.

"Well Miss Ashton Aubrey, your trainer will be with you quite shortly, Laurel is always punctual. And from what I can see of your background here, you two should get along quite splendidly," Uriel's eyes dropped from her face and down to the ties that bound her to the wooden chair, "I can remove those you know, if you promise me you won't make another fuss. Do I have your word Ashton?" His voice was soft, like a father or a lover, his glance focused on her sideways and he smiled slightly.

Ashton nodded, feeling the muscles in her neck pull stiffly as she did so, causing another surge of fiery pain to shoot up her nerves to the base of her brain. Her bottom lip was bleeding again, the dry crusting skin that pulled tight over the mass of flesh burst open and allowed the blood to ooze down over her lip and to the slope of her chin as she spoke.

"I'm not going anywhere-Uriel" the words came out as a rattling whisper, dry and stale. She then gulped for air and leaned back and for the first time since her arrival in Limbo she relaxed.

Uriel blinked, unnoticed by Ashton, a sudden surprise sprung on him at the sound of his name from her lips. It seemed she spoke it almost with a religious, reverent, tone. He shook his head lightly from side to side, and then proceeded to produce a small sliver key from his white pant pocket. With the air of a magician he withdrew the tiny sliver mass and reached with one slender hand for the lock to Ashton Aubrey's restraints. Having slipped the key into the padlock like binding, and a smooth turn of his wrist, the restraints fell away like petals from a dying flower with a slight nudge.

Ashton picked her flaming head up. She stretched her arms with a slow sluggish motion that reminded the bemused Uriel of the movements of an arthritic cat. She attempted to stand, but the long denim covered legs wavered beneath the new weight and she collapsed back into her slumped sitting position. Rubbing the sides of her chest in a semi circular motion, she drew her head up, to look at Uriel leaning coolly against the wall, his head tipped back causing his golden curls to spread in an almost halo like manner about his head. His eyes were narrow blue slits when he finally spoke. Ashton slid her aching body to the chairs edge as he parted his ruddy lips.

"You are a pretty one, Miss Ashton Aubrey, a pretty one indeed," there was a loud drumming on the door to the far left of the tiny cubicle, Uriel straighten himself and seemed to float towards the drumming sound as he spoke, "ah, that would be Laurel, now don't try anything foolish Ashton," he left out a short laugh as he threw a glance at her over his slender shoulder, "although you look as though you could move at about a crawl, I'll warn you now-don't try anything stupid with Laurel, trust me Miss Ashton Aubrey, Laurel has been a trainer for almost eight years now and she can drop you like a stone."