Dead Love

With the tamed three-headed dog following briskly behind him, Ore followed the glow until the tunnel opened up into a large cavern. What he saw there made his jaw drop. Crowley was right when he told Ore that he would find everything he needs where he was going. And then some.

The cavern resembled a mix of an alchemical atelier and a mad scientist’s laboratory. There were tables with broken beakers and clouded alembics. Old books in a dozen languages were scattered across the floor. Strange notes and symbols appeared scratched into the cavern walls. One corner of the space appeared to be dedicated to acoustics, with multiple old gramophones and phonographs hooked up to a large machine, with records and Edison cylinders stacked haphazardly around it. A series of wires ran from it into the stalactites and stalagmites of the cavern, reminding Ore of the organ he heard with Yuri in the Shenandoah Valley Caves. As above, so below.

Judging by the age and the condition of the technology, it seemed the place hadn’t been used for the better part of a century, but the breadth and complexity of its arrangement made Ore wonder whom it had belonged to. If he had to guess, he’d probably say Nikola Tesla, but then he didn’t really know enough about him, that kind of stuff had always been more Yuri’s department.

As he examined the books, papers, and the notes on the walls, he realized whoever was here, seemed to have had the same goal in mind. Was everyone in obsessed with resurrection? Many of the sigils, seals, and diagrams, Ore recognized from his own occult research. Some were crossed out, others had alterations, the previous occupant definitely put years of work into this, which made Ore feel insecure thinking how much he had rushed his own training. Still, this was good. Perhaps even whoever it was had succeeded, after all, it didn’t look like they’d died here.

Ore felt dizzy and sat down. There was a large lead box that resembled a coffin, which emitted a faint glow. Ore figured that the bulk of the radium was stored inside and could be used as a power source. But the lead container was old and crude by modern standards, and likely didn’t block all the radiation. Ore decided to conduct the necromantic ritual one more time. After pouring the offering substances into a copper bowl he found on the alchemical table, he looked at his hand, the cut didn’t look good, he was pretty sure it was infected. He took out the knife and ran it over the flame of his lighter to disinfect it, better late than never. After cutting himself in a different place on his arm, he dripped the blood into the cup, and after bandaging himself up, went to sleep.

When he was once again in the necromantic dream space, he saw Yuri surrounded by a spiral of green glowing stars and burst out crying. He tried running towards her, but she remained out of reach, as if guarded by some kind of motion paradox. It felt like the spiral of stars that had been pulling him in, was now pushing him back. He thought of the myth of Tantalus, whose punishment in hell was to be forever hungry and thirsty, while standing in a pool of water beneath a bunch of grapes above, which dried up whenever he bent down and was pulled away when he reached up. He stopped to catch his breath, only to remember that his dream body didn’t actually need to breathe.

“I’ve finally found you,” he said, even as he noticed a hint of uncertainty in his own voice.

“You think?” Yuri answered mischievously, with that vaguely sad smirk which he’d known so well, “Good job.”

“I came to get you back, I miss you so much,” Ore was struggling to hold back tears.

“You know I can’t leave. Besides, you’re not the first one to lose somebody. There are so many others here that want to go back.”

“Then I will bring them all back!” he said in desperation.

“Well, aren’t we confident,” she laughed, “I think they’d like that. I always knew you had a bit of a messiah complex. But these kinds of things don’t usually turn out as you plan.”

“I don’t care, you know I can’t live without you.”

“Don’t give me that,” Yuri replied sternly, “you got by fine without me. Or did you forget? I called you weeks before, when there was still time, and asked you to come get me from Seattle, but you said no, told me I was just throwing a fit and it would blow over, except it didn’t, did it?”

The memory turned like a knife being twisted in his chest. He wanted to make excuses, he wanted to apologize, he wanted to explain. But there was no time, the dream wouldn’t last much longer. Besides, she could always read his thoughts better than he could express them.

Yuri resumed, a little calmer, “I want to tell you it’s not your fault, but I don’t think it’s my fault either, maybe it’s everyone’s fault. You know I was never really happy, just as you were never happy either, that’s why we got along like we did. Some have their love-lines intersect, others their destiny-lines, I guess with us it was our fault-lines,” she joked, knowing Ore’s love of puns.

“Earthen quakers, wake-n-bakers,” he quipped back out of force of habit, whenever they’d get into wordplay, Ore refused to be outdone, even as the content of her speech felt like a vice choking his heart. “I’m so…”

“I know you think you’re sorry, but I can’t forgive you. You’re just like everyone else, acting like you know better. Stop lying to yourself. You wanted to be rid of me, I get it, I could be a pain, now it’s too late and you feel bad. Nothing good will come of holding on.” The words cut Ore to the bone.

She continued: “Look, I’m glad you came, I did miss you, you were my best friend, and I am sorry that we left off the way we did, I shouldn’t have left you in the dark. But I don’t want you destroying yourself over this either. I can tell you want to die, but it’s not worth it, I would know,” how he’d missed her dark sense of humor.

“Then you probably also know I won’t listen,” Ore grinned, his lips quivering. “I love you.”

“I know.”