Suspect Press

Tag: Lucy Blickensderfer

  • Orpheus and Eurydice 

    Orpheus and Eurydice 

    What would you give to be loved like she loves her? 

    The music surrounded her; it lived in her, desperate and heartbroken. 

    Ada sang of her love; she sang of every trial, every bad night, every good morning. 

    And before her eyes, the demons of Hades bowed their heads with emotion. 

    Satan was seen shedding tears; Anubis sobbed into his hands. Hel herself hid her face in her chest.  

    And so the gods gave Ada a choice; they fashioned a cruel deal, a losing bet. 

    Escape the realms of Hell with Laurel behind you and you are free. Free to live out the life they had always wanted. 

    But if you look back, if your eyes stray to Laurel as you brave the path through the realms of the underworld, Laurel will be lost to you, lost to Hell and Hades and Mictlan and Niflheim and Duat. Lost to all the realms of Death itself. 

    Ada remembered the way it felt to watch the world fall out from under her, the way it felt to feel the light leave her life as Laurel grimaced in pain, as the venom coursed through her veins and took hold of her heart. They had to pull Ada away, had to drag her, kicking and screaming, from Laurel’s lifeless body. 

    But Ada wouldn’t let that happen this time. Her gaze was steely, angry but determined. She would not look back. She would fulfill her end of the bargain. 

    What else was there to do? Ada agreed. 

    They traveled through the murky tunnels; she kept her head down so as not to look behind her, even though every instinct told her to do so. 

    The gates of Hell seemed so far away. How was Ada supposed to make it all the way there? How was she supposed to ignore the pulsing thoughts that begged her to turn around, to look at Laurel’s face and run as fast as she could out of this wretched place? 

    The realms of death passed slowly. Heads turned; demons marveled at them; sinners and tortured souls halted their screams. The unquenched fires burned a little lower; the crushing darkness felt a little less crushing, distracted in its shadows. The gnashing of teeth turned to grimacing, and the world seemed to shift, a mirror image turned on its side. 

    Sisiphus halted his trek, and the realm of Hades seemed to hold its breath. Cerberus stood unnaturally still; Tantalus abandoned his pursuits. The Furies watched with their leathery wings for signs of Ada’s weakness. Persephone observed, her head tilted in interest as the world shifted, the mirror turning on its side again. 

    The shores were littered with the dead, the walls seemed to slither and writhe, mist and shadows, and relentless cold bore down on her as poison dripped from the walls. Ada held her head firm, putting one foot in front of the other, her heart calling for Laurel, a deep relentless ache. A dragon’s footfalls echoed in her head, the blood of the guilty warm on its mouth. The rivers of the world seemed to flow through her fingers, the mirror twisting again, flitting through her hands like water. 

    An empty chasm opened up before her, the darkness thick and unrelenting; light is nonexistent here. The fleshless, the bones of the dead taunt her, they whisper of their trials, their challenges. The soul-crushing mountains, the winds with knives for gusts. They whisper to Ada of their world, of their journey, the valley of snakes, the bloodthirsty beasts that crave the taste of the heart. But Ada would not give them her heart, it already belonged to Laurel. She forced her way out, forced herself not to look back, to check that Laurel stood behind her.  

    Ada stifled a sob, she was weak and broken and there was nothing to be done for it, nothing to stop the way she needed Laurel like she needed her own heartbeat. 

    There must be an end to this; there must be an end to this suffering and horror, but the mirror twisted again; it twisted again. And then there was burning, burning burning burning, as the lake of fire spread out in front of her, as the caverns burned with darkness, as the serpents hissed their warnings and the evil spirits whipped the world to dust. Ada watched as a scale weighed the hearts of the dead, as the sun god made his way through the realm of death, on his way to rising in the East. She watched the enemies of the sun wait for him, she saw the gates open for him, one by one. 

    And just as Ada thought she might fall apart, the mirror twisted again, it folded in on itself and it seemed as if the world was opening up in front of her. It was so close. 

    She looked back. She looked back she looked back she looked back. 

    Just to see the awe on Laurel’s face, just to see the way her eyes would be shining, to see the way her mouth would be blooming into a smile. 

    And it was, for one stunning moment, Ada glimpsed Laurel again, like the shining sun, like the way it feels to find your way home. 

    And then Laurel disappeared into the dark, snatched away by the realms of death, by the cruel hand of the gods. 

    So, what would you give to be loved like she loves her?  

  • It Would Only Take A Minute

    It Would Only Take A Minute

    It would only take one minute. 

    You are sitting alone. Alone at the lunch table like you always are. But she is so alive, fire and the bright lightning of a storm. 

    You could introduce yourself. It would only take a minute. 

    You could walk over. 

    A step for each second. 

    One. Fifty-nine. 

    Two. Fifty-eight.

    Three. Fifty-seven. 

    Would your feet stutter? Would your hands shake? 

    Four. Fifty-six.

    Five. Fifty-five. 

    Six. Fifty-four. 

    Would you trip over your own feet? Would someone bump into you? 

    Seven. Fifty-three.

    Eight. Fifty-two.

    Nine. Fifty-one. 

    Would you lose your nerve and scramble back, hoping nobody saw you? 

    Ten. Fifty. 

    You would tap her on the shoulder. You could make a funny joke about the lousy dining hall food, right? 

    Forty-nine, forty-eight, forty-seven. 

    She would laugh, god, you hope she would laugh. 

    Forty-six, forty-five, forty-four. 

    What would you say next? You would start to panic

    Forty-three, forty-two, forty-one. 

    God, she is beautiful. 

    Forty. 

    Dark hair and bronze skin, deep black eyes and a sharp jaw. 

    Thirty-nine, thirty-eight, thirty-seven. 

    But then she would ask you your name, and you would be surprised, because nobody has ever wanted to know before. 

    Thirty-six, thirty-five, thirty-four. 

    Luna, you would say, trying to project some confidence into your voice. 

    Thirty-three, thirty-two, thirty-one. 

    You would almost forget to ask her name, even though you already know it. 

    Thirty. 

    And what’s your name? You’d say, almost too late. 

    Twenty-nine, twenty-eight, twenty-seven. 

    Ava, she would say. 

    Twenty-six, twenty-five, twenty-four. 

    And it is so beautiful, coming from her mouth.

    Twenty-three, twenty-two, twenty-one. 

    What else is there to say?

    Twenty. 

    Do you invite her to eat with you? Do you ask her out? Here and now? 

    Nineteen, eighteen, seventeen. 

    The thought makes you cower in your own head. 

    Sixteen, fifteen, fourteen. 

    But she makes sure you don’t have to worry about that. 

    Thirteen, twelve, eleven. 

    Can I join you? She says, looking back at the table you abandoned. 

    Ten. 

    Yes. You would say. Yes, of course. 

    Nine. 

    Eight. 

    Seven.

    Six.

    Five.

    Four.

    Three.

    Two. 

    One. 

    It would only take one minute.

  • Where Will You Be When the World Ends?

    Where Will You Be When the World Ends?

    A poem for you?

    Well that’s easy

    Because i never want to stop talking to you 

    “What would you do? If the world ended tomorrow?”

    She is lying next to Annie, so close that it makes her head spin.

    “I have a feeling the world is just fine.”

    Lyla dares herself, dares to run a finger over Annie’s jaw.

    Annie lets her. Seems to relish in it. 

    “How could you possibly know that?”

    Lyla laughs softly, she’s running her fingers through Annie’s hair. 

    She’s savoring the way her hair smooths through them.

    “Well, I don’t think I would mind so much, if the world ended, not anymore.”

    Annie’s hand is gripping Lyla’s waist. 

    Running mesmerizing circles that could make Lyla purr. 

    “And why is that?”

    Annie says, but she knows the answer. 

    She knows that there is no place Lyla would rather be. 

    Knows that if the world ended tomorrow, well, at least they would die in each other’s arms.  

    “If you know the answer, why ask the question?”

    Lyla laughs with her words, entranced by the way Annie’s eyes burn. 

    “Maybe I want to hear you say it.”

    In the enticing brown of Annie’s eyes, a challenge like no other sparkles. 

    “And what if saying it makes it real? What if saying it makes it all disappear?”

    Annie grips Lyla closer to her, close enough that their heads touch, close enough that they can feel the others’ breath. 

    “You couldn’t make me disappear if you wanted to.”

    Lyla laughs, and the shatters in her heart seem to melt. 

    She buries her face in Annie’s chest, breathes in the scent of her, lets herself feel every movement as Annie wraps her arms around Lyla.

    “There is no place I’d rather be when the world ends. Nobody else I’d rather be with.”