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Playful

Gwen

G et Wrecked, Weirdo wasn’t that far from the summer night market.

After years of bus routes, Gwen knew her way around the city better than most. The building in question was only two blocks over, and by the time they arrived, Gwen could hear the ambulance in the distance.

Get Wrecked, Weirdo boasted a brick building with an interior that looked like a business in the middle of renovations.

Open pipes, graffiti on the walls of plywood, and hard concrete floors gave the interior a rough but modern feel.

Luckily, they were open late for the summer crowds, and blissfully empty.

Gwen booked a room for twenty minutes, nodded as the man explained the rules, then promptly took the protective gear he offered.

The man guided the couple farther into the building, to an open area .

“I’ll set up some of the items while y’all change,” he explained.

“Okay, put these over your clothes!” Gwen said as she handed Ambrosius a white coveralls, gloves, and a helmet with a thick visor mask.

She hushed him before he could complain, kissing him sweetly before wiggling into her own coveralls.

Gwen would worry about the helmet hair after.

Once they were sufficiently suited up, Gwen grabbed Ambrosius and hurried toward the room where the man stood.

“Okay, the moment I shut the door, your twenty minutes start. If you need anything, give us a holler,” the man said before opening the door.

The interior of the room boasted black walls spray painted with neon colors and a concrete floor.

There were two makeshift tables made with tires and plywood, with several glass bottles, ceramic bowls, and old cell phones.

A single wine barrel sat between the two tables.

On the floor was a keyboard, sound speaker, and computer monitor.

“This is the thing you wanted to do for me? You … wanted to show me a room with more junk?” Ambrosius questioned, eyeing the odd arrangement.

“I suppose I can’t complain too much, given that they're quiet.”

Gwen rolled her eyes. “This isn’t any junk room, Ro.”

She crossed the short expanse of the room, gesturing to the lineup of tools. There was a crowbar, sledgehammer, and a lump hammer. The latter of which Gwen took into her hands as she made her way to the table. She plucked one of the ceramic bowls and placed it onto the wine barrel.

“This is a rage room,” Gwen said before slamming the hammer down .

The ceramic bowl shattered, sending shards in multiple directions. The sound of it breaking echoed in the lightly conditioned room. If it weren’t for the ear plugs, the sound would have irritated her senses. Instead, Gwen let out a little laugh, adrenaline igniting in her veins as she excitedly sidled back up to Ambrosius.

“I know you hate the Antiquarium, and this isn’t exactly the same, but I thought it would be a nice way to take the edge off. Break things that won’t come back. Plus, we don’t have to worry about dumping a body after.”

The demon stared at her and for a moment, Gwen worried that she had misjudged the situation. It wouldn’t be the first time. But her anxiety was short-lived as Ambrosius wrapped an arm around her, bringing her close.

“I’d kiss you if these fucking helmets weren’t in the way,” Ambrosius swore with a sly grin.

Gwen chuckled. “How about you kiss me when our twenty minutes are up? Let’s break some stuff first.”

“As you wish, my bittersweet.”

In a rush of excitement, they parted with one goal in mind. Gwen snagged another ceramic bowl and chucked it against the wall. It broke with a sharp clatter seconds before she heard a loud crack. Spinning on her heels, she saw Ambrosius standing over the keyboard with the sledgehammer. He raised the tool above his head and it came down hard on the keyboard, sending plastic and metal across the concrete floor.

Gwen had never been able to afford therapy. That was for people with money. However, Gwen couldn’t deny there was a rush of release with every shattered glass bottle, every resounding crack as hammers met objects. There was glee in the destruction, a playfulness as they cheered the other on whenever something would break. And as the precious time went on, Gwen realized she had let something go. Something she hadn’t even been aware of holding until then.

Shame.

The feeling that stuck to Gwen like bubblegum in her hair. It was an emotion that had lived so close to Gwen that she hadn’t realized it wasn’t there anymore. That she didn’t feel the weight of it as Ambrosius sent the sound speaker flying across the room. Drawing attention to herself, being too loud, being too much, there was no reason to be ashamed of any of it anymore. Or maybe, it had just taken Gwen this long to realize she hadn’t needed to feel that way.

After all, even a demon thought she was worth being around just the way she was.

When the last bottle broke, and the room fell silent, Ambrosius pulled the helmet off his head. He had a light sheen of sweat on his skin, hair a wavy damp mess as he huffed. Ambrosius helped pull her own helmet off and frowned at the sight of ichor in the corner of her eyelashes.

“Were you injured at all?” Ambrosius asked, searching her body.

Gwen shook her head, pressing her lips together as she tried to fight back tears.

“I’m okay,” she said after a moment. “I just … I think I’m ready to finish the doll now.”

Ambrosius dropped their helmets, letting them fall to the ground. He cupped her cheeks in his hands, pressing their foreheads together. He didn’t kiss her as she expected. Ambrosius closed his eyes and breathed until the rhythm matched hers. It made Gwen feel dizzy and warm.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

By the time they reached the apartment, Gwen’s hands were hurting again.

She supposed she went a little too hard on breaking things. Ambrosius mostly appeared normal, but Gwen did clock the way he leaned a little more heavily on his cane. It was a subtle thing she had begun to notice about him throughout their date. Gwen wasn’t sure if it worked on demons, but she definitely needed to down some painkillers before she started working on the doll.

They entered the apartment, Gwen turning on the lights while Ambrosius locked the door behind them. A trail of spiders had infiltrated her living space. Like ants, they traveled from the bathroom to the bloodstain, and back again.

“What…”

“Insatiable, I imagine,” Ambrosius said. “They devoured the body while you were sleeping.”

“They did that?”

He nodded. “It was probably their first meal since they appeared. They’ll have the carpet cleaned by breakfast, no doubt.”

Gwen frowned. “What are they, by the way? The spiders?”

“A manifestation of your haunting. They won’t really go away until the Soul Covenant is complete,” Ambrosius explained .

“Oh, but I don’t want them to go away!” Gwen exclaimed as she snagged a bottle of pain reliever from the kitchen counter. She quickly dry-swallowed two pills. “I … I’ve kind of gotten used to them.”

An unexpected realization, but she really did like the little blue backed spiders, and the idea of them disappearing didn’t sit well with her. She would need someone to talk to once Ambrosius left.

“Well, we’ll see what we can do with that, hmm?” Ambrosius chuckled, shaking his head when Gwen offered him the bottle. “After you finish the doll.”

“Ah, right!”

Gwen pulled her boots off and hopped over the spiders, Ambrosius following. She dropped into her chair and turned on the desk lamp, revealing the doll right where she left it.

“She’s cute so far, isn’t she?” Gwen asked, lifting the doll for Ambrosius’ inspection. “All I have left is the face, which shouldn’t take me very long.”

“Charming, my bittersweet,” Ambrosius said, resting his hands on her shoulders. “May I watch you work?”

No one had ever asked that of her before. When Gwen had taken up doll collecting as a mere hobby, her roommate had found it cute at first. But the moment Gwen started pulling the dolls apart to study their creation, well, people found that weird. But there was one thing Gwen knew for certain, and it was the fact that she was good at remaking dolls.

“I’d love that,” she murmured.

Despite taking something for it, Gwen’s hands still ached as she held the water color pencil. She traced the doll's mouth with red, delicately filling in the lip, all the while Ambrosius’ hands never left her shoulders. He was a reminder, her reason for pushing, despite the limited movements of her hands. Nothing mattered more than finishing the doll. Gwen didn’t stop until there was no more space to fill with her pencil.

“She needs a couple coats of sealant,” Gwen murmured.

“But she’s done.”

“May I see?” Ambrosius asked from over her shoulder.

Gwen nodded, allowing him to take the doll from her hands.

Ambrosius held the doll the way Gwen had seen antique dealers do on TV.

It was measured, evaluating as the demon ran his fingers along the delicate bead work that connected around the waist. Gwen had wrapped the doll entirely in bubblegum pink.

From the tulle head wrap, silk business jacket, and thigh highs.

She had embellished the simple outfit with white beads, giving the doll a choker.

Several pearl chains hooked along the belt that cinched the jacket into a dress form.

“Do you like it?” Gwen finally asked.

“It’s perfect,” he said.

“My only request is that you make this in your size, my bittersweet.”

“Then…” Gwen slowly stood.

“Is it over? Did I do it?”

“Almost. There’s just one more thing.” Ambrosius placed the doll back on the desk.

The urge to make a smart ass remark was on the edge of her lips.

Old habits died hard, but Gwen didn’t want to delay anymore.

“What do I need to do?” Gwen asked.

“Kiss me. Just like before,” Ambrosius said softly.

“This time, with the knowledge of what I am. If you’re truly set on binding your soul to me, kiss me … but be ce rtain this is what you want, Gwen. Once you do, there is no going ba—”

Gwen grabbed a hold of Ambrosius' jacket lapel, closing the short distance between them. She kissed him slowly, but more confidently than when their lips had first met in the Antiquarium. And unlike that first time, it was Gwen who pushed her smaller tongue into his mouth. It was Gwen who explored, who licked, and teased her tongue along serrated teeth.

Behind her eyelids, the darkness came to light. A vision of something great and terrible. It was large—so much larger than herself. A creature that loomed over her with its twisted frame, gray skin stretched tightly over sharp bones and lean muscles. It lay prone on the ground, tied down by chains—too many for Gwen to ever count. The creature’s limbs were bound to its side, save for the six arms thrashing against its back, claws pulling fruitlessly to weaken the chains. A long tail whipped back and forth along the ground, the tip a sharp point, stained teal.

Whatever the thing was, it was hard for Gwen to keep it in her mind. An omen that most humans were never meant to see, yet she couldn’t pull her eyes away. A head of matted black hair dwarfed by two sets of massive horns slowly lifted, revealing the creature’s face. A porcelain half mask covered the creature's face—no, it was the being’s face.

It obscured the three eyes that were angled sharply toward her.

Hot breath escaping a fanged mouth as its long, sticky tongue rested on the floor before it.

For a moment, the being held her gaze and Gwen couldn’t move, even if she wanted to.

Then, the tongue shot out at her, like a serpent striking prey.

Gwen tried to prepare for the impact, but the tongue connected with her face, slipping past the barrier of her mouth—

Ambrosius’ groan pulled Gwen from the vision.

When the burning sensation hit her tongue, Gwen winced, but she didn’t pull away.

She wasn’t entirely sure what it was, but her instinct was to welcome it.

To let it inside the same way she had allowed Ambrosius in.

The ache soon became dull and soothed by the brush of Ambrosius’ own tongue.

With the worst of the pain behind her, Gwen continued to kiss Ambrosius until their mouths finally parted with a harsh breath between them.

Shakily, Gwen shifted on her heels, eyes blown wide as she stared into the face of the demon that held her heart.

His own eyes had gone from dark to that lovely shade of glowing cyan once again.

“It’s done,” he whispered.

“Oh,” she whispered back.

“I … I don’t feel anything.”

“I do,” Ambrosius replied.

“I can feel you connected to me.”

The thought was romantic, making Gwen warmer than she was already.

She felt tingly, like her heart might shake itself to death.

They were connected now, even if Gwen couldn’t feel it the way Ambrosius did.

No matter what happened next, she would be tied to him forever, and that made the selfish parts of her happiest of all.

“Should we … have that ritualistic sex now?” Gwen suggested with a small tremor in her frame.

“I’d love nothing more…” Ambrosius trailed, before frowning.

It was only for a short moment, but Gwen could tell something had shifted.

Call it instinct or perhaps a pattern Gwen had picked up on, but her gut told her something wasn’t right.

“Ambrosius?”

“I’m … afraid I might be dying.”

Gwen’s mind went blank.

That was when the black ink on Ambrosius’ skin roared to life.