The Face In The Rock
by
Fred D. White
They
were necking in a thicket off the hiking trail. Delmore heard himself
tell Jade that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, that
he would do anything for her.
“You must promise.”
“I promise.”
She smiled, caressing his face. “Then your fate is sealed.”
Despite
being overwhelmed with longing for his raven-haired, jewel-eyed
girlfriend, he felt vaguely unnerved by what she’d just said; but
before he could move his lips to move, she said, “Come with me; I want
to show you something.”
Jade’s
blood-red lipstick was smeared; he wanted to kiss her again; he wanted
to gaze forever into her luminous green eyes. “Sh-show me what?” he
managed to say.
She smiled. “C’mon.”
He followed her back to the trail. “Where are we going?”
“You’ll see!” She started running.
He
caught up to her and was tempted to tackle her to the ground and wrap
her long legs around his neck; but she grinned as if reading his
thoughts. “There will be plenty of time for that.”
So she was reading his thoughts.
After a few moments she slowed down and said, “Don’t be scared, okay?”
“Scared of what?”
She stopped in front of a large rock and placed both hands on it.
“What do you mean, ‘Don’t be scared’?”
“Just watch.”
The
rock’s surface became translucent. Delmore rubbed his eyes as a
holographic image materialized. He gasped when he realized it was his
own face, although considerably older. This had to be some bizarre
optical illusion. He glared at Jade. “What kind of sorcery is this?”
“I conjure up the future, Del. Some of us use crystal balls; I prefer rocks.”
Delmore shuddered at the sight of his face in the rock. “He seems—I seem—to be in distress.”
Jade studied the face for a moment, her brow furrowing. “Hmmm . . . maybe your promise wasn’t sincere after all.”
He backed away from Jade; who now seemed alien.
“What have you done to me?” He tried to read what was lurking behind
her eyes, but all he could see was their haunting beauty that had
turned his brain to mush.
“Delmore!” The voice came from the rock.
He leaned in closer. “Did you just call me?” He felt like a moron, speaking to a rock.
“Get rid of her or else she’ll—" Jade suddenly did something with her hands and the face vanished.
Before he could ask her what had happened, she took off down the trail.
He was about to run after her when the face in the rock spoke again: “Find her, for God’s sake; make her break the spell.”
“What is she?
“A
demon who feeds on the intense emotions of the men she captures and
holds in her thrall. Now hold still so I can forge a mind-link with
you.”
“You’re going to mind-link with me? With your earlier self?”
“It’s our only chance to avoid eternal imprisonment.”
There was a violent flash of light, and he staggered backwards.
“Now hurry!” said the voice of his future self inside his head.
He
ran as fast as he dared down the trail, nearly twisting his ankle.
“Jade!” he yelled. He forced himself to keep going until he reached the
trail head.
No Jade.
Again he yelled. “Jade! Where are you?” It was growing dark.
And suddenly, there she was, shrouded in shadow in the picnic area.
“You can’t resist me, can you?” she said, moving toward him, her luminous green eyes wide and predatory in the dim light.
“Don’t come any closer.”
She came closer. He ached to hold her in his arms again, to inhale the hypnotic fragrance of her hair . . .
She
opened her arms and every inch of his body cried out to embrace her, to
fall into her gravity well of indescribable pleasure.
But
even as he hungered for the creature looming before him, the voice
inside his head—his own voice from his future self—commanded him to
attack. “Grab her throat! Force her to break the spell, or you’re a goner.”
“What if she refuses?”
“Do it!”
He
leapt upon her, desperate to crush his mouth against hers, and to crush
her windpipe at the same time. “Release me, Jade!” he and his future
self simultaneously commanded.
She twisted
violently out of his grip and clawed his face. His lust now overcome by
panic, Delmore lunged for her once again and dug his thumbs into her
throat. Searing pain knifed through his head, but he forced his thumbs
into her windpipe and squeezed with all his might.
Jade writhed, then went limp, and she dropped lifeless to the ground.
“Idiot!” shrieked the voice inside his head. “You were supposed to get her to break the spell first!”
THE END
Fred
White's fiction has appeared most recently in Limestone, Mad Hat Lit,
Atticus Review, and The Brooklyner. He lives near Sacramento, CA.
E-mail:
Fred D. White
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