Will She Be Mine?

Welcome to a Secret Subject Swap. This month 3 brave bloggers picked a secret subject for someone else and were assigned a secret subject to interpret in their own style. Today we are all simultaneously divulging our topics and submitting our posts. 

My “Secret Subject” is:

How did you meet your partner? Tell us your love story.

It was submitted by: https://thediaryofanalzheimerscaregiver.com/blog

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The following is a bit of a short story obviously. Well I'll guess you'll see what I mean about obviously. My actual for real romantic/sex life is just one of those things I like to keep just for me. 

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I met the love of my life at work, ok?

It's a bit of a cliche meet cute that Hallmark has overdone a million times to meet your soul mate at work, but this one might be a little.... different. Hallmark probably isn't telling this story any time soon unless they start making Halloween themed movies. Perhaps a little horror comedy with a love angle...

She wasn't a coworker. And I mean I don't think she actually qualifies as a client either since she wasn't the paying party or anything. It's complicated.

Well that's probably a little understated for reality if I'm being honest but I just never figured I'd feel this way about someone and the circumstances just didn't bother me.

I'm just gonna say it.

I'm a necromancer.

There. It's out of the way now. I'm a necromancer. I don't exactly advertise it or anything. I feel like it's one of those abilities that would send us right back into Salem Witch Trials territory, but the right people know. Most of my work comes from attorneys looking to resolve death issues. I can raise someone for an hour with little effort, make 5000 bucks, and their families get a little closure. Did they leave a will? What did they want done with their estate? And occasionally, how the hell did this happen? Answers from a reanimated corpse are nowhere near being accepted as evidence in court, but with the family's blessing I've been able to at least point the cops in a direction...if the person knew and understood what happened. And I've definitely mended some broken hearts left to handle the unanswered questions after grief. I've been worked with therapists to do some final family therapy sessions. I've worked pro bono a few times for families who didn't have the privilege of having 5000 bucks to see their mom one more time or whatever but for the most part the business was pretty steady and I do ok. Some of my peers take dirtier jobs for bigger bucks like scientific research and corporate espionage or whatever but I just couldn't take that kind of money. Absolutely not my vibe. It's already hard enough being with people who have to say goodbye one more time or who point the finger for their death at someone in the family and everyone coming to terms with a new horror. I had to have a conscience about it, you know?

Which is what gets me about meeting Cecilia.... Like, it must have been fate, right? This wasn't the kind of case I normally take. I don't particularly like working for companies, but a friend of a friend got in touch and needed to ask a former employee some questions about ongoing projects. It seemed harmless enough, easy money. They'd said a half hour tops just to get a few key details down after the sudden death of the lead on these projects. Easy money. I wouldn't even be tired after that kind of time. I was used to a couple hours at least for family to get in their goodbyes which tended to make me a little worn out. I tried not to do more than a couple jobs a week. So a half hour? For a few questions? For the 4 grand they offered? Fuck. Why wouldn't I take it?

But that's not what happened.

I went to the address provided, met my contact, Tom, and raised Cecilia easy enough. A lot of times with older deaths, it takes time to work through the confusion they feel being back and she'd been gone a couple months. That really should have been the first red flag because why would they sit that long on work projects without answers? Then she seemed to instantly recognize Tom. She was absolutely pissed which I took as the confused emotions of the newly raised, but she started immediately cussing him out. They did, actually, work together, but he was obsessed with her and his stalking, from what I gathered from her 10 minutes of ranting, was the reason she'd run off the road that night trying to lose him. And she didn't give a shit for the apology and he better be glad the cops never gave a shit the million times she reported him. And that yes she knew he was only "apologizing" to find out how much hot water he might be in so he'd be real fucking lucky if she didn't find a way to haunt him until he ran to the cops himself to confess. 

He ran off in a huff, probably pissing himself on the way, and both of us immediately started laughing. As it died off, we looked at each other, and I felt like my entire body had erupted into butterflies. The mouth on that girl... Get your mind out of the gutter. I mean, she destroyed that man. The vocabulary, the strength, the take no bullshit attitude and in such a beautiful (and yes dead) package. I was smitten, and by the look on her face I knew she was at least interested. Gayyyyy.

I noticed her face fall at the realization that she was very limited on time now and would likely never see me again. She looked, not to toot my own horn here, absolutely devastated. So I told her I didn't mean to be presumptuous but I could see she wasn't ready to go back and like I never do this but could I keep her company for a little while longer. The smile, oh her smile... We talked and talked and flirted and oh boy was I absolutely devastatingly charmed by her. I couldn't get enough and almost passed out from the sheer exhaustion of keeping her animated. Her spirit was so strong though that I could be with her, present, and still keep that lifeline. I felt the most powerful I'd ever been all because of her.

I don't know where this is going because I don't know how to make it work, but I do know I love her. We've been doing our little cemetery dates sometimes 2 or 3 times a week for a year now. It's our anniversary tonight, in fact, and we have a big date planned--a zombie movie marathon for the dark comedy of it all--and I can't wait. I don't want a life without her. She's insisted I find a live girl and live out my greatest lesbian dreams, but how could I ever forget the way she makes me feel? It's more than love, and I swear I'm getting stronger. I can keep her longer. I can raise other people easier.

But I can't keep her forever.

Our relationship is pretty limited physically. I don't really raise the bodies, you see. That's not possible. I know what all the movies and books said, but they're simply not accurate. What I do is more like a hologram. It just helps to be near the body to do it well with as little confusion and emotional deregulation as possible. So there's not a lot going on here. I used to think that the physical side of things was as important as the love part. Sex is a big part of my life. Or was anyway. Now I'm not so sure I wouldn't be willing to make due somehow.

We're coming up on the anniversary of our first meeting, and I think I just might ask that girl to marry me.

Leave it to me with my past with both men and women to make my life the most complicated and painful (and beautiful) I've ever experienced.Here are links to all the sites now featuring Secret Subject Swap posts. Sit back, grab a cup, and check them all out. See you there:



Baking In A Tornado https://www.BakingInATornado.com

Climaxed https://climaxedtheblog.blogspot.com

The Diary of an Alzheimer’s Caregiver https://thediaryofanalzheimerscaregiver.com/blog

How To Succeed with Monsters

Today’s post is a writing challenge. This is how it works: participating bloggers picked 4 – 6 words or short phrases for someone else to craft into a post. All words must be used at least once and all the posts will be unique as each writer has received their own set of words. That’s the challenge, here’s a fun twist; no one who’s participating knows who got their words and in what direction the writer will take them. Until now.

My words are:

inhale ~ shorter days ~ habits ~ warmth

It was submitted by: https://thediaryofanalzheimerscaregiver.com/blog

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                    Foreword___________

I took a sharp inhale when the creature first walked into my office. I had a long reputation for taking on unconventional clients in my therapy practice, but I'd had no idea that seeing a man who insisted he was a vampire and could only be seen at night or well late early evening on shorter days--who did drink blood and have some pretty fucking weird teeth if Im being honest--would one day lead to me sitting in the same room with a demon.

He'd made the appointment under Adramelech but I didn't think anything of it because the kids I saw who picked their own names really knew how to pick some edgy ones. There was literally no end to the dark entity names, the anime names, the villain and bad guy names... I know, I know. Who cares if it isn't hurting anyone, right? Only sometimes I think the picked name does end up hurting some folks who really lean in hard to the idea of themselves that they or someone who should have treated them better drilled into their heads. So that's what I was expecting--a dark dressing, misguided but lovely despite it, and just in need of a little help sort of edgelord who spends too much time online.

"Something wrong, doc?" he grumbled. And yes, he. I always ask pronouns on intake forms.

"Well, no. Let's say I wasn't quite prepared."

"For?"

"Well, you're mostly a mule of some sort, and I usually see humans."

"Not what I heard, doc. You come highly recommended in all the demon circles. The undead ones too. The trolls as well actually. Dwarves. A couple gods from what I heard not that we run in the same social networks. Not elves though but if ever there was one who could admit they needed help with something then they'd probably come here too."

My mouth must have hit the floor if I'm being honest. I mean I knew that's what they said they were but I just assumed... Well, you know. What would anyone think?

"You mean you didn't know?"

I recovered quite well. In my head I screamed OF COURSE I DIDNT FUCKING KNOW ARE YOU GOING TO TELL ME SANTA CLAUS IS ALSO REAL AND WHY DO YOU HAVE FEATHERS, but out loud what actually came out was, "why don't we move on to talking about you and what brings you in today since we're on a sort of tight schedule here? I have written down here that you want to work on some 'bad' habits? Is that right? Could you expand on that?"

"Sure, doc, but if you have questions at the end about all the, you know weirdos you see you can ask free of charge." He laughed heartily for a moment and my skin felt like it might crawl off my body, but it was also jolly somehow. I could feel myself at ease, smiling with him. What is my life?

He got serious after a moment and started picking at his tail feathers. "Yes, I think I need to work on my anger issues a little bit and the sorts of things I get up to when I'm angry, for starters, but there's more we can get into. I think that's my top priority for now though, doc, and I know you helped Beelz stop wasting his time sending flies after people who tried to invoke him and focus on his day to day schedules and appointments as Lieutenant so I was hoping we could do some of that for me."

"I did?!?" Wait. "What I mean is I can't discuss another client's case with you, but we can absolutely tackle some of your bad habits. Absolutely. That's something I see a lot in my practice for sure."

He chuckled but I kept a stone cold face because I am a professional, so he moved on like I hadn't just revealed yet again that I had no idea I'd ever seen another not human but had apparently seen them fucking all just about. "Well, doc, here's one of the biggest ones that I really need to tackle. So you know, not by choice but because it is written, I am in charge of Satan's wardrobe."

"Satan's wardrobe?"

"Well yes. He's got a mansion full of clothes. He has shit he's never even worn but would never give to say someone like me who," he looked down, "doesn't own many nice outfits."

He was naked and I don't even know how pants would work on this guy but maybe it was the principle involved. "So what I'm hearing is your employer takes his wealth for granted and doesn't even offer to help anyone out when he can clearly afford to?"

"Yes, doc, that's part of it. Those are the perfect words for it. But there's also, well, he's Satan and he's all knowing and all powerful or whatever and an absolute asshole. I mean just because you're Satan doesn't mean you have to be a dick to everyone who works for you, right?"

"I'm assuming being a dick to employees isnt written in the same way as your job as head.of wardrobe, right?"

"Right, doc. I respect the word of course and he's contractually obligated to be a dick to, you know, humans. Sorry. But not us. He doesn't even allow us cake on our birthdays. And he yells. And sometimes gives us an ass on top of our heads. Or some hellfire clothes when we complain about his lack of warmth. He once gave some minor demon a cat head instead of his regular head and anytime he tried to talk it came out as a soft kitten mew and that guy will never be ok again, doc."

"So an extremely toxic workplace and I'm assuming there's no HR department."

"Well the H in HR stands for human, doc, so good guess. And nothing like the demon lord equivalent. We just... Well we all sort of have bad habits to let off steam. And it's making things worse. One of us is going to get caught and then everyone gets caught and then we'll all have kitten heads."

"Ok since you're here let's start with your own bad habits and go from there."

"Right. Ok. Well, I steal clothes. He'll never miss them. He doesn't even know what he has! I sort of explained it away like office workers taking home notepads and stuff but it's kind of gotten out of hand. And I can't even wear them without taking them in to be altered and then someone will definitely see I've taken Satan's clothes. I'm not exactly known for blood red velvet smoking jackets. He really spent too much time with Hugh Hefner."

"And you've...kept them? Like the evidence is in your, uh, home?"

"I have an apartment in the big house because even if it's 4 a.m. and he has a booty call, I have to be there to pick out his clothes. And yes. Just sitting there in my bedroom where he can see them anytime."

"So not great. Your anxiety is just sitting there and looking in the face every night. Anything else?"

"Well. Well ok I make his underwear extra itchy. I once put a sort of spell, I guess, on a particular jacket he's fond of wearing to hookups that would give him erection problems. Let's see. I did once make it so he thought he was wearing one of his favorite leather ensembles but it was actually a pink bunny outfit. The list goes on and on, doc. It's petty shit, and I get that. I really do. It doesnt....how would you put this? Yes. It doesn't change the material circumstances that are causing me turmoil and anxiety, but I get so angry with him. And I just need a little way to give him back at least some of what he gives to all of us. Only it's not just me. There are dozens of us taking our shots in little ways, you know?"

I laughed. I laughed hard. I mean I was crying. Snorting. Snotty. But i got a good look at the range sort of boiling underneath this guy uh pers... creature? Entity? Being? This dark lord? Whatever. I'll have to figure it out. Anyway, I noticed he thought I was laughing at him quite possibly the way his boss might and I got hold of myself really quickly. "You put an asshole who fancies himself a Hugh Hefner type in a pink bunny costume and make his balls itchy?"

We both laughed then. A good laugh. A joined laugh. And we kept laughing well past losing our breath. And when we both came up for air, he looked more at peace than when he walked in, less frazzled, more in control... And that's the story about how I figured out I was the go-to therapist for demons. And the undead. Trolls. Dwarves. Quite a few gods actually, a few orcs, and even once a goblin. Never did see an elf but given all I know now I guess that's to be expected. I even have my own special business card.

"Not human? Not a problem. Specializing in all your otherworldly needs. Set up an appointment via scrying mirror today! We can do mirror calls or appointments in office at your convenience including nighttime appointments for vampires. Satan proofed rooms are available!"

Adramelech and I worked through some of his problems but honestly who could blame him for the things he was doing? We figured out some healthier ways to channel the anger though and I helped him figure out a better way to handle Satan. He organized a demon lord's union and now there's no cat faces or ass heads or any of that allowed. By written word. And he gets his own clothes! When he finally left therapy, we both cried and he gave me a painting of Satan in a bunny costume that will hang in my office til the day I die.

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Links to the other “Use Your Words” posts:



Baking In A Tornado https://www.bakinginatornado.com/

Climaxed https://climaxedtheblog.blogspot.com

The Diary of an Alzheimer’s Caregiver https://thediaryofanalzheimerscaregiver.com/blog
On the Border https://dlt-