Sharon first, rocking a pair of black vinyl pants and a dark purple corset. Then Heidy, squeezed in one of her cut-offs and T-shirt combos. And finally Ben, in his usual biker gear.
The tattooed girl behind the counter lifted her eyes from the magazine she was browsing and eyed them. Her heavily made up eyes lingered long on Ben's muscles. She gave nod and a smile.
"We're here to see Madame Zerelda," Sharon said, staring her in the eye.
The girl had short black hair and a complicated tattoo covering her left arm, and a ton of silver rings and bracelets and earrings.
"Do I know you from somewhere?" the girl said.
"Who knows?" Sharon replied. "You too look familiar," she said with a smile on her dark burgundy lips. "Maybe if I saw you naked I'd remember."
The girl chuckled.
"Madame Zerelda?" Sharon asked again.
The girl nodded to the curtained door. "She's busy with a client," she said. "It will take a few minutes."
Sharon nodded.
They spent some time browsing the shelves. While she waited, Sharon bought a pentacle pendant, and a big silver ring shaped like a Medusa's head. Heidy started chatting with the girl at the counter.
Then the curtain was pulled to the side, and a short, plump redhead in an executive suit staggered out, a dazed expression on her face, her eyes unfocused.
"Now you can go in," the girl at the counter said.
Sharon brushed by the redhead, and was in the darkened room she well remembered. Could it have happened only ten days ago?
She stood by the table, and soon the old black woman was standing in front of her.
An evil grin spread on the older woman's lips.
"Oh, innocent one," she said. "I see you chose your path, after all."
Sharon grinned in turn. "Yes, mother," she said. "And I came to apologise, and to thank you."
The old woman shrugged as she sat down. "You should not thank me for what was destined to happen," she sentenced. "And you should not call me mother."
Sharon straightened her back. "Why shouldn't I? After all, if I am what I am I owe it to you, much more than I owe it to that other woman. You are my true mother." She sat. "And I want to thank you."
Without a word, madame Zerelda gripped Sharon's wrist and turned her left hand palm up. She smiled. "I see," she said finally. "Your soulmate, Benjamin..."
"He's fucking hot," Sharon grinned. "He's buff and badass and completely debauched. He's also hung like a horse and I don't know nothing about my soul, but for certain my cunt adores him."
The old woman arched her eyebrows. "And your marriage plans...?"
"Marriage?" Sharon laughed, evilly. "I don't need a priest's sanction to fuck my man's brains out whenever and wherever I please, mother."
"No you don't," Madame Zerelda nodded, smiling. "And yet you were so sure, the last time we met..."
"Yeah. I was really pathetic. You must have had a good laugh, when you saw what was inside of me, waiting to come out."
"As I said, it was destined to happen."
"And I wish it had happened earlier," Sharon sighed.
"Everything happens in its own time." Zerelda was still holding her hand. "But I see you're making up for lost time, don't you?"
Sharon chuckled. "Shit, I'm fucking night and day like a soul possessed. I’ve got a stud of a biker boyfriend and a gorgeous stoner girlfriend. I got a rocking haircut, I dress like a smoking hot slut, and I've got my body pierced and inked. I get smashed, I get stoned, and I think I'd die without cigarettes." Her chuckle turned into a laugh. "I love every minute of it, mother."
"But you are not here just to thank me, aren't you, young woman?"
Sharon crossed her arms. "No, I'm not."
"And then, why are you here?"
"You know perfectly."
Zerelda laughed, loud. "You learned your lesson right," she said. "But I want you to spell it out for me. I want proof that you are committed."
"Proof that I'm totally gone, eh?"
The woman just stared at her. Sharon nodded, a cruel smile spreading on her lips. "The black goo," she said. "The stuff I slipped to Ben to turn him into my darkest fantasy..."
"Yes," Zerelda encouraged her gently.
"I want more of the stuff."
"Why?"
"In a few days I'm expected home," Sharon said, an evil glint in her eyes. "The folks back home don't know about the new me, and I'll love to see their shocked reaction, to feed off their outrage. I’ll have a hell of a good time causing scandal in the community. But then I want to turn them too."
"Turn them?"
"Bring about their bad self," Sharon said. "Turn them into their own darkest fantasies. Or mine. Free the darkness inside of them. Make them as bad as me, as Ben and Heidy. As good as me and Ben and Heidy."
"Your father? Your mother?"
"Fuck, yes. My two little goody-two-shoes sisters too. My aunt and my cousin. I want the Valardi household to wake up and start having fun. They've been wasting their lives praying and kneeling in church long enough."
Zerelda nodded, slowly. "Why?" she asked again.
"Because it will be fun," Sharon grinned. "Because I feel like it. Because it's evil, and I love it. The idea alone makes me wet. Because I want them with me."
Zerelda arched an eyebrow.
"Because I want them to be free just like I am," Sharon added.
The old woman nodded.
Sharon felt an electric charge run up her arm and explode at the base of her skull.
She gasped as the tingling hardened her nipples and flooded her cunt. "Oh, fuck," she breathed, squeezing her thighs together, the vinyl squeaking.
When her eyes cleared, madame Zerelda placed eight vials filled with black oily fluid on the table before her.
Sharon was surprised. "Why two extra doses?"
The old woman smiled her evil grin. "You question my wisdom again?"
Sharon's eyes lit up. "You are great, mother."
Zerelda shook her head. "You are about to find your true mother again," she said, "daughter."
Sharon pulled a roll of banknotes from her cleavage.
The old woman lifted a hand. "No money," she said.
"But..."
"I can't accept money for what's fated to be."
She stretched a hand and caressed the younger woman's cheek.
"Go, child," she said.
"Thank you, mother."
Sharon went back in the shop.
Heidy was nowhere to be seen. Ben was at the counter, the tattooed girl smiling, talking slowly and running a finger up and down his tribal tattoo.
The cheek of the fucking slut.
"You wanna blow him?" she asked walking up to the counter.
The girl grinned. "Why not? Might be fun," she said.
Ben glanced at her. "Are you jealous?"
Sharon shrugged.
"Where the fuck's Heidy?"
Ben pointed at the door with his thumb. "She's made friends," he said. "They're gone somewhere or other."
"What a slut," Sharon smiled. "And here I was hoping for a threesome." She glanced at the tattooed girl. "Any suggestions?" she asked.
The girl glanced at Ben and her face lit up in a bright smile. "Maybe."
"You got it?" Ben asked.
Sharon nodded and showed him the vials, while staring the girl in the eye.
"My name's Mira," the girl said. "I've got a place upstairs."
She stretched her arm and turned the sign on the door, from OPEN to CLOSED.
"This way," she said, walking to a spiral staircase in the corner of the shop.
As the girl passed her, Sharon slapped her ass. The girl giggled.
Sharon eyed Ben. He put an arm around her waist as they followed the girl upstairs. "You are truly my dream bitch," he whispered in her ear.
Sharon laughed out loud.
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