Cheryl sat on the couch, the worn and ancient book open before her. Her hands trembled as she turned the pages, searching for one certain phrase. It was a thing that she had dearly bought, though not with money.
She stopped. She found the phrase that she had been looking for. The words were written in an ancient, arcane language that she had never heard. That didn’t matter. She had a copy of the phrase, with its English translation as well. She had wondered why she needed this old book if the phrase could be written out. But the man in the shop had said that she would need to read it from the original text in order for it to have any effect.
She swallowed in anticipation. She put her finger to the first word. She traced the words on the yellowed, old paper as she spoke them aloud.
“Lamia. Xandus. Nilshai. Ingrus tal unghra.”
These words might not mean anything to the common man upon the street. But they meant great things to those who knew the elder ways. The hair on the back of her neck stood up straight as her lips finished the last word. She sat stone still for a moment, the book clasped tight in her hands.
Then she heard a slithering, sliding noise. She looked up. There, in the doorway between the living room and the kitchen, was what she had dared to invoke. Its great patterned tail continued back into the kitchen. Its arms were crossed across its bare chest. Its long hair fell down its back, looking a little like the snake that this creature half was.
Cheryl trembled as it entered the room. The lamia drew itself up onto the coffee table in front of her. It was every bit of frightening. Its cold, snake eyes stared at Cheryl, examining every inch of her. They stayed like that for a long moment. Then the lamia spoke.
“What is it that you wish, mortal? You have invoked the ancient rites that even I cannot ignore.”
Cheryl swallowed and began to speak.
“I need your help.”
“Of course. Why else would you have summoned me? Give me your name.”
“Cheryl Melbourne.”
“Then, Cheryl Melbourne, know that you have summoned Athanassiada, Lady of Serpents. Now that our names and our positions are known, what is it you require my aid with.”
“It’s my friend Dana. Her husband-well, he beats her. Horribly. She came over here a day ago. Couldn’t take it anymore. But he’s coming, I know he is. He’s going to come and kill her.”
The lamia nodded, regarding what Cheryl had said.
“I don’t know any other way to stop him,” Cheryl continued, “The police won’t listen. They don’t care. They’re friends with him, go drinking with him. I had nowhere else to turn.”
“You wish me to stop him, do you?” Athanassiada asked.
Cheryl nodded. “Please. She’s dear to me. I can’t let anything happen to her”
Athanassiada turned and looked towards the door. Cheryl waited for the lamia’s response.
“You would summon me to help you, when you could just as easily have acquired a weapon and done it yourself.”
“No, no, I’m too scared. I can’t fight, can’t do that.”
The lamia shook her head. “You may wish you did it once, and only once.”
“What? What do you mean?”
Athanassiada looked back to Cheryl and locked their eyes in a gaze. Cheryl felt very small looking into those reptilian eyes.
“For my help, there is a price to be paid. You summoned me, so if you agree to my help, you will pay the price, not your friend. I cannot tell you what the price is, for the ancient laws forbid that. I can only tell you that it is very great.”
Cheryl swallowed and answered without a second thought. “I only want her to be safe,” she said, “I don’t care what the price is.”
The lamia raised an eyebrow. “Why her? What is the manner of your attraction towards her?”
Cheryl looked away. “She made a mistake, marrying a man. Somebody shouldn’t be punished just because they realized the price of something too late.”
A smile spread across Athanassiada’s scaled mouth, indicative of amusement. “I see. Love then, is what drives you on.”
“Does it really matter?” Cheryl glared.
“Not to me. But to you it matters everything. I am trying to help you. You have hinted a bit at the nature of this price, though you still do not know what it really is. I know it full well. I tell you it is one that you do not wish to pay.”
Cheryl shook her head. “I don’t care. I’ll pay this price. All I care about is her. Please, help.”
Athanassiada sighed. “I give you one last chance. Tell me that I am not needed and find another way, I ask you.”
But Cheryl shook her head. She was resolute and decided. And she was a woman, never to cower. She was going to ask the lamia’s help, unknown price or not.
“Very well. Place your hand upon the book.”
Cheryl did so. Athanassiada grasped both the book and her hand in a strong grip and held them out in front of her.
“Here and now do I make this bargain, here and now do I make it official. Cheryl Melbourne before me has asked for my help, and I shall give it to her. And in return she shall pay the unknown price, as the tomes do tell is truth. I, Athanassiada, make this binding and true in the ancient signs and the arcane ways. She cannot escape what she has entered into, nor can I.”
The air shuddered, rippled, as the lamia finished speaking. Cheryl pulled her hands back from Athanassaida’s cold grasp. There was no smell of sulfur, no whispering demon voice, it was all normal. Was it?
There was a knocking at the door. Cheryl whirled in fear, but the lamia turned with a smile, licking its lips with glee.
“You may want to go in the other room,” Athanassiada said. “This can get a little unpleasant.”
Cheryl got up and retreated to the kitchen as the knocking on the door became a pounding. She stuck her head out in the doorway though, taken over by that peculiar human desire to watch horrible things unfold.
The pounding now turned into hammering, urgent and angry. The tip of the lamia’s tail twitched in anticipation. A pit formed in Cheryl’s stomach; anticipation of what was to come. The lamia was here, no doubt of that, and that alone made it powerful. Its presence alone seemed enough to kill. But Richard, Dana’s husband, could be powerful himself, especially when he got angry. Cheryl had witnessed him confronting a college boy on a bike who had cut him off. Richard had bent the bike in half with his bare hands. Who knew what was going to play out here.
The door flew inward with a great crash, its fall to the floor a loud crash in the quiet apartment. Richard stepped through the doorway, an angry fire in his eyes. His features seemed set in stone. Cheryl could hear his breathing, even though she was in the kitchen. It reminded her of a horse or a bull sucking in air, the edges of its eyes white with what might be madness.
“Dana! Get out here! I know you’ve laid up in here! Come on out and I won’t give your little sister-slut what she deserves!” His voice was strong and strange, full of rage, teetering towards insanity more and more. Cheryl shook with fear, knowing that this man could do what he said he could, knew that for all his faults he was a man of his word.
“She cannot come,” Athanassaida said from her perch on the coffee table.
Richard stopped. He had not noticed the lamia, strange though it was, until just that moment. Other men might have blathered, stuttered, and stumbled backwards out the door. But Richard was full of rage, a rage that kept him as close to rational as he could get in times of extreme stress.
“Who’re you?” he demanded, though not as loud as he had spoken before.
“Who I am really does not matter. All that matters is that I am here. And here for you at that.”
He paused, unsure of just what was being offered before him. But then the lamia uncrossed her arms and let him view her beauty. And then he seemed to understand. Or at least, he thought he did.
He walked over to her, still stepping strong, still almost like a statue. She raised herself up until she was face to face with him. It was an interesting sight. It reminded Cheryl of when a snake charms a bird. The bird does not resist, it simply sits as the snake makes ready to strike.
“You have been found wanting in your affections.” Richard flinched at the lamia’s words, as though it wasn’t what he expected to hear, wasn’t apropos for this moment.
Athanassaida put her hand on one side of Richard’s head. Her back was to Cheryl, so Cheryl couldn’t see what the lamia’s face looked like at this moment. But she could see Richard’s, and that was a fair enough gauge. He looked both frightened and willing, afraid of this strange creature yet completely at ease with falling into its grasp.
“You have caused harm to a female. In doing so you have caused harm to one of my sisters. For all who bear children, no matter the manner of being, are one of my sisters. Some more so than others.”
Cheryl saw Richard try to pull away, saw that he was slowly realizing what was happening. But Athanassaida was not going to allow that. She put her lips to Richards and began to kiss him.
At first Cheryl wondered just what this was turning into. The lamia was supposed to be taking care of Richard, not giving him love. But then Cheryl saw Richard’s eyes roll back in his head, and it was not from pleasure.
He jerked around, very much in pain. It was written on his face. Lines that should have not appeared for many more years were now engraved across his cheeks and brows, deepening by the moment. His skin grew paler and paler, yet he made no noise.
Athanassaida made all the noise that was needed. She groaned and moaned, swaying and moving her tail around in passion. Even as the life ran out of Richard it entered her, and excited her. She became more urgent, her movements quickened, her breathing sped up. Now she moaned so much it seemed as though she would soon begin to scream. Cheryl wondered how Dana could sleep through this racket.
Now Athanassaida had Richard completely in her grip. Her claws sank into him, tore great chunks out of his flesh. The crimson blood splashed across everything. His eyes widened with pain, yet he was still silent, Athanassaida’s mouth covering his.
Now it seemed as though Richard’s skin grew taunt across him, like it had become canvas. It grew translucent, so clear that Cheryl could see the outline of bones beneath it. Richard’s skin shrank and fit to the bones. Then it tore away, and Richard was gone.
Athanassaida held his skull up, lips still to its mouth. The rest of the skeleton fell to the floor. Cheryl gasped and shuddered as the lamia rolled her tongue around inside the jaws of Richard’s skull.
The lamia sighed and let the skeleton fall to the floor. A wind rose up in the still apartment. The skeleton turned to powder and blew away into that eerie wind as bone dust. The door opened, and what was left of Richard was carried out of that room.
“You may come out now, sister,” Athanassaida said, licking her lips.
Cheryl came back into the living room, trembling with shock. She looked around, trying to find some trace of Richard.
“He’s gone. You won’t see him ever again. I give you my word,” Athanassaida said.
Cheryl nodded. That was obvious.
“I really should go check on Dana now,” she said. “Listen, thank you. You don’t know how grateful I am.”
A strange sound came out of Athanassaida’s throat. It was a rapidly rising and falling hiss. It took a moment for Cheryl to realize that the lamia was laughing.
“What’s so funny?” she asked.
“You’re so quick to count this a blessing,” Athanassaida said.
The lamia vanished, the air rippling in the wake of its disappearance. Cheryl backed away, startled for a moment. Then she turned and began to walk towards the bedroom where Dana slept.
Cheryl let her clothes fall away from her as she walked down the hall. There were no men here; she had nothing to hide from Dana. They would share everything now, thanks to the lamia. She swayed her hips side to side, taking no notice of the fact that the sway was extending far past her hips.
Her foot caught something, and Cheryl fell to the floor. The wood smacked her in the face, bringing her to a harsh reality. She turned to see what had tripped her. Strange, her legs seemed a little soft, almost as if they were running together. And there was something on them too, covering them in an iridescent carpet. Cheryl sat up to see what it was and stopped cold. It was scales.
