Burning Man Ch. 01

Chapter 1

Martin Tyrone Key ran his fingers through his mohawk as he looked at a picture of Elise Wilson. She was younger in the photo but not by much. Her eyes were bright and her smile broad. She looked happy. He envied her photo, his was much darker at her age caked with eyeliner and eye shadow. She looked carefree and light but the soul of a teenager was fickle and understood the power of perception. He wondered what teenage horrors the photo hid.

Key looked out over the cracked and dusty asphalt street. Iggy Pop crackled away on the car tape deck as the car's A/C struggled with the desert heat. He hadn't seen any movement yet. The decrepit building was flanked by boarded up houses but there seemed to be no life in the stale desert air. Key killed time swapping out tapes and looking over the files he had on Elise. Husker Du groaned from the speakers as he flipped through her file. Elise had disappeared two weeks ago with her boyfriend Cody Wilkes. The two had hooked with a sex cult called "Fornicatio Solemnitas" lead by a man called Hotspur. From what he could discern it was a cult but had the trappings of a run of the mill self help group. The old building was the meeting place for their congregation. It was in the middle of nowhere and had no discernible markings.

All told Key counted thirty seven people had entered as he watched and waited. Key waited until dark to get out of his car. He slipped casually to the side of the building, pulled a silver flask from his coat and took a long swig, capping the flask he took two deep breaths and headed in.

Incense billowed in a massive protean cloud over the congregation. The chamber was vast and candlelit. Despite the heated desert outside the room was cool and damp. The members of the congregation were dressed in robes and masks. Each mask was unique and represented something of the wearer. Some were plastic Halloween masks while others were expensive and ornate. Underneath the robes each celebrant was naked and flashed genitalia as they moved around the chamber. The mood of the room was jovial but there was an air of ceremony to the proceedings.

The congregation milled as Key watched in a quiet dark corner. It was easy to stay out of sight in the chamber as the activity was centered on the altar at the center of the room. Key perched on a broad windowsill that was boarded from the inside. He winced as he took a sip of the sickly sweet creme de cocoa in his flask. The liquor did nothing to warm him against the chill so he stuffed his hands under his armpits and focused his attention on the concrete altar.

A young girl, no more than eighteen, stepped into the room while at the opposite side a teenage boy mirrored her entrance. The girl's robe was red like the others but hers was shorter and only hung to her thigh, additionally it hung open to give a teasing look at what laid beneath. A hint of breast, a shock of pubic hair, and a flash of muscle along her stomach as she walked. She wore a mask made in the image of a moon. The boy dressed identically except for the sun that adorned his face. The girl was the right age and height for Elise and she had a dirty blue party tattoo of a butterfly on the top of her foot, which fully identified her. Key to surmised that the boy was Cody.

They approached the altar. As they walked members of the congregation groped each other. The action rose and became a mass of hands jerking, kneading, and probing with hedonistic abandon. Some masturbated on their own while others clustered together. Elise and Cody finished their long walk and got on top of the altar. They knelt in front of each other inches apart. Elise rubbed her hands against her robe and looked around the room at the blatant sexuality on display.

Elise's palms were sweaty, her mouth dry, and she felt dizzy. She worried that she might fall into Cody. He smiled, shrugged his shoulders, and gestured towards the room with a gesture that seemed to say, "this is crazy, right?" The priest entered the room and quickly moved to the altar. He kissed the palms of his hands and touched each of them lightly on the forehead then raised his hands to the ceiling and began chanting.

The congregation's fervor amplified when he began chanting. One woman wearing a baby doll mask straddled a man's cock while she jerked another off. Beads of cum shot at her like buckshot and she groaned ecstatically as she bucked harder against the lover below her. On the opposite side of the altar a man thrust slowly into the ass of another man, both grunting softly with each long stroke. The altar was crackling with energy as the priest continued chanting.

Elise could feel the energy rising up through the altar and pulsing fiercely through her body. She could feel heat sweeping off of Cody and wanted so badly to touch him and to feel his arms around her. It hadn't occurred to her until that moment that she was turned on but she was and it exhilarated her. Her breathing became labored and she felt her muscles spasm. Cody's head was swaying lightly and his mouth was moving. His dick, which was exposed through his robe, was rigid and tall. Elise wanted to take it, to touch it, lick it, straddle it, she wanted to feed off of his cock. The impulse was nearly irresistible and grew more feverish with each moment but her body was paralyzed by the spasms.

Key lifted himself off the windowsill and crouched behind a bundle of rusted pipes. The runes on the altar glowing around the lovers. They were arcane symbols whose origins had gone to time and tide. Key pulled a notebook from one of his many pockets and copied them down.

Elise glanced at the symbols. They glowed a putrid blue color and made her head swoon when she tried to look at them. Sweat was pouring down Cody's body. The priest was screaming and thin ribbons of blood pulsed from his eyes, nose, and ears. His tongue was swollen and splitting like a cooked sausage making the strange language he spoke come out in wet sloppy consonants. Cody was reeling, his body was shaking and his eyes were rolled back in his head. The sound of sex was reverberating off the walls and it mixed with the low snarls that were coming from Cody. The cacophony was deafening.

Elise felt her need rising, the strain of it was becoming unbearable. Cody was less than seven inches from her and was heaving and growing. His muscles were flexing and straining. Cody's raw sexuality was hitting Elise in waves. She could see the fornication around her and she was cherry picking the positions she wanted to try. An orgasm was rising in her just from looking at him, but as the cacophony reached its orgiastic crescendo it was all halted by a loud crack.

The force of Key's blow sent ripples of force through the clouds of incense. The priest fell to the ground. His face was wet and pulpy from the ritual and slid against the concrete. "Enough!" Key bellowed to the celebrants. The tribal tattoos that gilded Key's face all but glowed next to the pale blue of the altar and the yellow light of the candles. He stood over the priest with a gun drawn and pointed out in front of him.

"What have you done?" Yelled one worshiper. The group surrounded him boners pointing like spears.

Key fired a shot off into the ceiling. Elise's eyes rolled back in her head as she fainted. The crowd stood in silence as he grabbed Elise around the waist and eased her off the pedestal. The baby doll stepped forward, her breasts still heaving. "You shouldn't be here. The rectory is sanctified and there will be retribution from Hotspur."

Key put his gun in his waistband. "I don't think he'll be causing any trouble for me," he kicked the priest lightly as he hefted Elise into his arms.

"That's not Hotspur," She retorted as she pointed at the altar.

Key turned to Cody. Cody fell forward his body steaming from the moisture in the air. His musculature was impressive and preternatural. His mask fell away from his face. His eyes were crusted in blood and his lips were pulled back in a wicked snarl. His head cocked and he looked at Key leaving with his mate. Key shook his head, "shit, that's Hotspur," obvious rage erupted in Hotspur. He howled and launched himself at Key.

Key moved as quickly as he could but Hotspur was on him. Key and Elise went sprawling across the floor. Hotspur grabbed him by the ankle and pulled him back towards the altar and threw Key into the concrete block like he was weightless. Key's head cracked against the hard altar, which sent flashes of pain through his skull. Hotspur pounced on him and jammed his thumbs into Key's eyes. Key's face was throbbing in white-hot pain as his hands fumbled for his pockets. He gripped a small sack and smashed it against Hotspur's face.

The pouch erupted in a crystalline cloud and Hotspur released his grip on Key to scratch at his burning face. He fumbled for his pockets once again before pulling a lighter and a vial from his jacket, a small glass tube with thick reddish liquid, and quickly poured the contents into his mouth, flicked the lighter and spat the substance back at Hotspur in a ball of flame. Scrambling backwards Key forced himself to his feet. Hotspur howled and rubbed his face into the grime-covered floor. Key fell against the altar and weakly pulled the gun from his waistband. His eyes were still throbbing from the attack, he could feel a mouse welling up under is right eye, and his head pounded with jackhammer force.

Key cocked the gun. Hotspur was recovering quickly from the salt and the flame. Three of the masked celebrants tackled Key and knocked him against the altar again. Key pressed the gun against one of the reveler's heads held the head firm with the off hand as he yelled,"Back! Get back!" They stopped their advance and stepped away. Key pushed the hostage away with the barrel and turned his attention back to Hotspur. The demonically possessed teenager was up and on him. Key fired a shot, but Hotspur pushed his hand away and the shot went wild. The following punch knocked Key across the room. His shoulder hit the ground hard and he thought he felt something snap. Key rolled onto his back as Hotspur raced after him. He leveled the.38 Special again and the barrel sang as a bullet ejected from the gun. The shot tore through Hotspur's chest and exploded out the back in a spray of red gore.

The creature fell twitching on the ground. Key pulled himself up and staggered over to Elise. He dropped the gun, kneeled next to Elise, then almost lovingly he lifted and cradled her. She was still unconscious and her breathing was shallow. He pulled a small strange looking rattle from an inside pocket and began methodically rattling and chanting. The congregation watched passively until she coughed and spat black bile onto the concrete floor. Key dragged her off the floor and pulled her out of the building.

He stiffly got into his car with Elise. She turned to him as he slid into the driver's seat. "What happened?" She asked.

Key silently started the car and drove onto the highway. He thought very long about what he was going to tell her. He thought about explaining everything that had happened, what the ritual was meant to accomplish, and how her boyfriend had been possessed and murdered by the demon that now inhabited him. Finally he said, "They conjured a demon to impregnate you." It seemed direct.

She mulled over his answer for a moment then retorted, "Bullshit."

"You asked," Key shrugged and drained the remnants of crème de cocoa from his flask. The ride was long and quiet after that.

* * *

Noami didn't quite fit the bar she worked at but her skill as a bartender made up for her unorthodox appearance. She was the daughter of Hungarian immigrants and had her head shaved except for a two plumes of pink hair on either side of the center like a reverse mohawk. Her face was gorgeous with thick lips and large eyes topped with thick eyebrows that she felt gave a kind of Frida Kahlo look. The uniform subdued her look somewhat, but she was still very striking in that setting. To her pride she became something of a fixture at her bar, the thing customers knew the bar for. Her drinks and her appearance were known all over town.

She pulled a chilled lowball from the cooler, poured a thin line of absinthe into the glass and swirled it. The sazerac was one her favorite drinks to make. It took a level of preparation she appreciated. Next she grabbed a pint glass and filled it with rye, simple syrup and bitters then stirred it rigorously breaking up the ice enough to dilute it slightly and release the flavors but not so much that it emasculated the rye. She swirled the lowball one more time before dumping out the excess absinthe and then strained the rye into the glass. She shaved off a small coin of lemon peel for garnish and put it on the well for the tiniest waitress Noami had ever met, Carla, to pick it up. All night every night she mixed sazeracs, manhattans, cosmopolitans, and martinis for the rich fucks that drank at her bar.

She had a few idle minutes so she washed glasses while keeping an eye on the customers faces. It was a slow night and she wanted desperately to leave. The guy at the end of the bar kept watching her ass and she was ready to tear his head off. He was a thick guy with five o'clock shadow that comes with a guy who has to shave every day, like it never really went away. He also had some kind of aftershave or cologne floating off of him. It wasn't too heavy but she was always pretty sensitive to smells and his was bugging her.

An hour later Noami took a smoke break. The customers trickled out and it was just her and Carla waiting for their shifts to end. Noami stood to head back inside when the ass watcher appeared in front of her, "Could I get a light?" He smirked.

She forced a smile and nodded reached for her back pocket and pulled the lighter. As she flicked it he grabbed her wrist. She jerked her hand back and let out a quick sharp "No!"

"Sorry, you've got a wrist brace. How'd you hurt it?" She hadn't hurt it and only wore it for work to minimize the damage she was doing to her wrists.

She shook her head and left him without a light. Noami could still see his stupid smirk in her mind's eye. He followed into the bar. "Listen," She started in, "I'm going to need you to leave sir."

"I'm sorry," He raised his hands and dropped the smirk. "I got off on the wrong foot with you. I shouldn't have touched you and I apologize for that."

"I accept your apology, now please leave."

The apologetic face was replaced with an angry expression. He lowered his head and she could feel how empty the bar was. Noami didn't see the Carla anywhere and felt suddenly aware of how much bigger this guy was than her. "Do you know who I am?" He growled.

She got really good at staring them down when backed by a full staff and large number of customers, now it was just him and her. She felt scared and hated herself for it. "I do not, but I am currently feeling threatened and I will ask you one more time to leave or I'm calling the police."

The air felt really heavy and she made sure to keep her eyes on him the whole time and prayed that her expression was more stoic than it felt. He finally nodded and left the bar

.

Noami got on the other side of the bar and grabbed the phone like she was calling someone. The waitress sauntered in as she put the phone back on its cradle, "I had to use the bathroom," Carla explained. She could tell Noami was livid from her expression. She felt a little bad at how much she enjoyed instilling fear into her coworkers, but she only a little and was feeling selfish. The night finally ended and she decided getting plastered was the appropriate response to the day's toil.

* * *

Key collapsed into his chair at home. His body swelled at the joints and his mind was exhausted from the drive. He leaned his head back and soaked up the darkness around him. He fell into a sleep for a moment only to be barraged with images of Hotspur snarling at him. His body jerked and he woke to the phone ringing, "Hello," He answered.

"You're home! Come down to the bar." Noami was on the other end. Her speech was slightly slurred.

"Yeah, okay," He said as he rubbed his temples.

"Seth has been asking for you."

"He's back?"

"Yeah, so get your ass down here." Noami laughed boisterously on the other end and sounded as though she were talking to someone but Key couldn't hear what she was saying.

"I'm on my way." Key said distantly and hung up. He splashed some water on his face and left.

The bar had picked up for the night and the music was loud. It knocked against Key's head in dull rhythmic throbs. He found Noami and Seth perched at the bar. Noami was dressed in tight black jeans with stiletto heeled boots and a hot pink denim jacket decked out in a collage of patches. Seth looked mundane next to her with his impeccable blond haircut and his buttoned shirt and jeans combo. They slurred towards him as he approached, Seth raised his arms for a hug and Noami beamed. Seth embraced him and gave him a kiss on the cheek "It's so good to see you baby!" He yelled in Key's ear. Key swooned from the noise.

"Are you okay?" Noami asked as she examined his face. "You're gonna have a black eye," she winced at the welt under his eye.

Key shrugged, "hard day at the office," he nodded at Seth and grabbed Noami pulling her into a hug. "I'm sorry I didn't call, I just got back."

Noami shrugged "It's okay, just don't let it happen again. You need a cellphone."

"Yeah later maybe, now I need a drink," He bellied up to the bar and joined the crowd. It was always difficult to readjust when he came home. He felt disassociated by the way the demons and the magic sucked him in. Magic is chaotic by nature. It abides by the rules that govern the tumultuous universe but those rules can be circumvented and even broken if you know how to do it. Those with the ability to manipulate reality understood that the knowledge comes with a steep learning curve. Magic has limitless potential with zero safety net. It is for this reason that a true magician will use magic sparingly because the outcome is never certain.

In many ways it was the same with psychic phenomena. It was hard to quantify and the knowledge gained was always suspect. True psychics never tell you their abilities are based on an imperfect system of intersecting realities and possibilities. There are millions of variables to consider and even experienced psychics will tell you that what they see is an abstraction based on current conditions, much like the weather.

When a butterfly flaps its wings in Spain it creates a tidal wave of alternate possibilities. Good psychics and good magicians can navigate the chaos better, but never with 100% efficiency.

True magic's method of seduction was to convince the wielder of its otherworldly nature and that they are somehow outside of the rules that govern humanity. The truth of the matter was that there is no such thing as limitless power and the universe always seeks to assert balance. Key considered himself lucky that he maintained his mundane life with his friends and lovers.

Noami pressed into him while he was in his reverie "Stop thinking about work Key," he looked at her puzzled, "I can see it on your face, enjoy the now," he nodded back to her as she handed him his drink, "Crème de Cocoa?" He nodded and took a long swig.

"How are you?" he asked.

"I'm perfect now, I've come to terms with a few things about us."

"Oh really?" Key interjected.

"We can talk about all that later," she kissed him. He moved into the kiss and held it for a few long moments. She could taste the chocolate liquor on his tongue. "I'm glad you're home," She said as she pulled back.

"I'm very glad to be here," he returned. The trio drank late into the night. Creme de cocoa led to beer, which led to whiskey, which led to pool and darts. Seth bitched about his boyfriend. Noami bitched about another bartender she worked with. Key said very little content to watch and absorb the night like a sponge. His mood normalized as his friends entertained him with their trials and tribulations.