Divine Punishment 5: An Eye for An Eye

 

Sitting on a chair in the bookshop’s back room, with a cup of hot chamomile tea in her hands, Julia told Paul - that was the name of the bookseller - everything she’d learned so far and he listened as if he didn’t think she was crazy. Well, that makes at least one of us. 

‘You don’t believe in magic, do you?’ He asked, after he finished studying the videos and photos on her phone.

‘No.’

‘Well, I don’t see any other explanation for this. It’s probably why your friend’s cat freaked out. Cats are very sensitive to the supernatural.’

‘You’re saying the blond man is a sorcerer? How? There was nothing witchy in his flat. On the contrary, all I saw were Christian religious books.’

‘Not all witches are pagan. He could also have all his witchy stuff hidden.’

‘There was no room for that. Unless he’s casting spells from the toilet.’

‘No magic practitioner would do that. So, we’re dealing with a Christian who decided to dispense some eye for an eye-type justice.’

‘This isn’t justice!’

‘For him, it is. And that’s all that matters right now.’

‘So, what you’re saying is that he’s going around pointing a wand at people, saying some magic words, and ruining their lives?’

‘That’s not quite how it works. Wands are more of a Wicca thing. Spells help witches mould their natural magical energy to achieve different goals and the more complex they are, the more work they need. Simple ones only require some words and hand gestures, while more complex ones involve drawing symbols and powering them, which is something you really don’t want to be doing in a public place. Magical energy can also be used raw, but that’s not very efficient, and is also too destructive and conspicuous.’

‘What spell is he using and can it be reversed?’

‘Most well-known spells have counter-spells, but you have to know exactly which version was used or things can go very, very wrong. My first thought was that he was using a Karma spell, which requires a lot more than whispers and hand gestures, but now I’m not so sure.’

‘Why? Karma makes sense, doesn’t it?’

‘All the punishments seem to fit, except you, Marla Jones, and the Italian tourist. In those cases, the hits were not what they should’ve been if he had been using a Karma spell. Look.’

Julia re-watched the Italians’ video, but didn’t notice anything new until Paul pointed it out.

‘His hand, the one the tourists ignored.’

The beggar had his only hand raised, while the arm with the stump rested on his lap. The tourists likely hadn’t even noticed it.

‘This wasn’t about a missing hand, it was about money!’

‘And they both ignored it, so why would only the man be affected?’

‘I thought that was odd, too, but at the time I was convinced this whole thing was a hoax.’

‘And Marla was complaining about lazy servers. That was her offence, so a Karma spell might’ve affected her job, not changed her race. Then there’s you. What exactly did you tell your former roommate?’

‘First I apologised for my behaviour at uni. Neither I nor our other roommates were nice to her, but I was sincere. Then she turned out to be a total bitch and made fun of my career troubles. In response, I mocked her family situation. Susan married a father of 2 whom she met when he applied for citizenship and the whole thing sounded shady, but I only did it because she insulted me first! Guess I would have sounded snobbish to someone who didn’t hear the full conversation.’

‘Well, you did come across as snobbish the first time you came here.’ Paul said, apologetically.

‘What? Why?’

‘Just a vibe. But that’s not important right now. What’s important is that Karma spells don’t do nuance or subtext. So, a sorcerer might have thought making you illiterate was a good punishment, but a spell would’ve likely just pushed you into several embarrassing situations, like a car riding over a puddle of muddy water while you were standing right next to it.’

‘Does this mean he used different spells for us 3 or that he’s using an original spell?’

‘There’s something else that’s bothering me. The effects on the tourist were nearly instantaneous and our avenging sorcerer was still visible on the video. There was no time for him to cast a spell and for it to have worked. Also, you need something from your target to do that and he doesn’t seem to have got close enough to either the tourist or you to get it. Maybe the others, but not the 2 of you.’

‘Are you saying he has an accomplice?’

‘I don’t think so. I first noticed him 9 months ago. He came in and said I was going to Hell for selling these pagans books. He sounded very serious and so I called a friend who knows someone who makes protective charms and got one put above the front and back doors to keep him and others like him out. I’ve seen him again, outside, but always alone.’

‘That’s more or less when the punishments started. At least the oldest one I could find was from a little over 8 months ago. But how is he doing this if he’s not using spells? You said that things get destructive and visible with raw energy but I didn’t even feel anything!’

‘I honestly don’t know. Sorry. I’ll call the charm maker to see if she knows something.’

Julia felt ready to burst into tears again. She hated feeling so helpless, but there was nothing she could do but wait; and wait she did while Paul made his call. She watched as he talked and though she couldn’t hear exactly what was said, she knew that it hadn’t gone as they’d hoped before he apologised again.

‘So, what? Am I going to have to learn how to read all over again? Is Zoe going to stay blind? Are the skinny fat boy and the fat thin girl going to just die? Is Marla Jones going to stay at risk of being arrested for fraud because she doesn’t look like herself anymore?’

‘Not quite.’

‘There’s hope?’ Julia’s eyes widened.

‘She said that she’s never heard of anyone matching the description of this sorcerer, so he’s likely not part of the magical community. She also said that there’s a spell that bypasses the need for the exact counter-spell and sends curses back to the person who made them, but for it to work it must be cast by a witch more powerful than its target.’

‘Well, can’t the charm-making witch do it?’

‘She sent me the spell, but this magic is too strong for her. She also told me that, since your punishment is focused on your ability to read and write, it will likely prevent you from regaining it.’

‘No.’

She didn’t even have the strength to yell. It was all over. Julia had never felt this sense of finality, not even when she had lost her job and been harassed on social media over her tweet. She couldn’t imagine going through life without being able to read and write, especially not the life she had planned for herself. Maybe she could at least learn braille, or maybe that would fall under ‘reading’, too. Julia went over everything she knew, both what she had found on her own and all the stuff about magic Paul had told her. There had to be something, anything, that could tell them how this fanatical sorcerer was doing this. It was mostly stubbornness, as she couldn’t believe this was really the end. Because you’re just so special, right, Julia? People’s lives get ruined every day, but not yours. Maybe if you will it hard enough, the spell will revert itself. Well, yogis could make themselves sleep on a pointy nail bed, so it wasn’t that impossible. Julia tried to focus on herself, but there was too much going on in her mind. If only her will power… her heart jumped.

‘Will power! That’s how he’s doing it! Only instead of focusing it on himself to make his body do impossible things like a Buddhist monk, he’s pushing it onto others like the little religious fanatic he is!’

‘You think he’s just willing it to happen? But spells…’

‘He has a spell: an eye for an eye! And because he’s doing it all in his head, it’s coming out the way he wants it instead of a more generic traditional spell. He focused on the beggar’s stump and so the Italian tourist lost a hand. And of course he ignored the woman; in his Biblical patriarch mind, the man was the one in charge and therefore the only one responsible. He may seem isolated, but maybe he’s not so isolated that he’s not aware of the Karen phenomenon. The incidents tend to be associated with racism in people’s minds, whether they really are or not, so that’s why Marla changed race. As for me, he didn’t just want to punish snobbery; he wanted to put an educated woman in her place and so he made me illiterate.’

‘But that would require an extraordinary amount of will power.’

‘You’ve seen him. He has the eyes of a fanatic and fanatics tend to have a lot of that.’

‘If it’s all about his will, we would have to make him see the error of his ways so he lifts all the punishments. Fanatics don’t change their minds very easily.’

Paul was right, and Julia felt the joy at having figured out what was going on wane. He knew exactly what he was doing to people and thought it was fair punishment. What could she possibly tell a man like that to make him change his mind?

‘He believes God gave him this power for this specific purpose, but maybe we could convince him that it came from Satan, instead.’

‘That would take a lot of work and time, and at any moment he could hit us with something else. Maybe we’d lose our tongues for telling lies, or spontaneously combust because in the end all the sinners and Satan’s allies must die in a fiery pit.’

Julia froze - it hadn’t even occurred to her that he could curse her again. Losing her tongue when she couldn’t write was a scary possibility, and would then learn sign language be considered ‘talking’? That actually seemed worse than burning, though she really didn’t want that either.

‘Are you sure there’s really no one who could do the Return to Sender spell?’

‘I’m afraid the only sorcerer that I’m aware of who’s powerful enough to do it is him.’

Julia blinked. An idea was forming in her mind, but it was too crazy. And yet, she was desperate. Even as she thought of how terrible the consequences of going back to that dingy flat could be, every fibre of her being revolted against what would be her life from now on. She refused to go down without a fight and if there was a chance to give that little shit a taste of his own medicine, she’d take it, however remote it might be.

‘How does the spell work?’

‘You draw the symbols and power them with magic.’

‘Just that?’

‘The closer you are to your target, the better, especially when you’re dealing with a particularly powerful curse.’

‘Could I trick him into powering the spell? Would that work? Or does the person who casts it must power it themselves?’

‘No, but how would you do that?’

‘I’m going to draw those symbols on the wall near his door, so that he can see them. Then, I’m going to convince him that I’m a witch and I just cursed him. His mind will do the rest.’

‘Are you sure about this?’ Paul sounded about as confident as she felt.

‘There’s no other option. He can’t keep doing this.’

‘What if he sets you on fire or something?’

‘I’ll make sure to give him a big, tight hug.’

———————————————

Julia looked at the symbols she had just drawn with chalk on the floor and walls of the corridor and compared them with the photos the charm-making witch had sent Paul. They looked exactly the same, there was no reason to delay this. Only that you’re going to die, die, die. She took a deep breath and straightened her back - she couldn’t look weak. Sure, her insides seemed about ready to climb their way out of her mouth, but he couldn’t know that. Now, let’s put that Resting Bitch Face to good use. Julia raised her hand and knocked. She took several steps back until she was standing against the wall, a symbol on each side and another one at her feet. It didn’t take long for the door to open. For a moment, the man looked confused, but then she could see the anger rise.

‘You!’

‘Yes, me. Like my art?’

He looked at the symbols and frowned. ‘What is this? What are you doing? Do you think I fear you? I have God on my side.’

‘Well, I  have this curse. Since you weren’t considerate enough to tell me which spell you were using, I have no choice but to force all those little punishments you’ve been throwing around back to where they came from.’

‘What does that mean?’ For the first time, he sounded slightly less sure of himself.

‘That everything you did is coming back to you. Can you feel it? Your legs getting weaker, your sight beginning to cloud, your insides coiling like snakes?’

‘Leviticus 20:27: ‘A man also or woman who hath a familiar spirit, or that is a wizard, shall surely be put to death; they shall stone them with stones; their blood shall be upon them.’  You think you can stop me, God’s avenger?’

Oh, crap, it’s going to be stoning. Julia did her best to keep her cool as he yelled, his eyes burning with anger, and saliva flying everywhere.

‘Are you sure you’re God’s avenger? Maybe you’re God’s martyr and he wants your death to be the spark that will reignite the faith of his straying flock.’

She felt ridiculous saying that, but she saw that it had worked. There was doubt, and being a martyr was no less worthy than being an avenger in the mind of a fanatic.

‘It seems God does have plans for you, but not what you had thought.’ Julia managed a disdainful laugh. ‘My spell is working, can’t you see? Or maybe you can’t. How many people’s eyesight did you steal? An eye for an eye, remember?’

Her voice didn’t betray her despair, but she was desperate and didn’t know what else to say. Suddenly, she felt the air around her getting warmer and realised that there was a glow emanating from the symbols around her. Then, she saw the man fall on his knees right in front of her. The mind truly was a terrifying thing. All it had taken was a little doubt for a spark of magic to touch the symbols and for him to become convinced the spell was working, which in turn made the spell work for real.

The first thing was the eyes - in seconds they were milky white. Right after, she saw him open and close his mouth as if he were gasping for air, but the problem was his tongue. Clearly, he must’ve silenced a few people, too, because it was rotting into a black, stinky goo mixed with blood that he spat onto the floor. Julia wanted to leave, but she worried that any change to this little show could lead to him realising he’d been played and stopping the spell. So, she stood there as his hand went through what she had already seen in the tourists’ video; not that knowing what to expect made it any less gross. After that, he started bloating. His flesh burst out of his clothes and flowed like thick, elastic mud. It swamped the corridor and reminded Julia of an anime clip she’d seen a while back, where a girl was enveloped and crushed by some else’s expanding flesh. She squeezed herself against the wall as much as she could as the pinkish mass covered the floor and got dangerously close to the tips of her shoes. Now, he did seem to be gasping for air, nearly suffocating with his own body. However, that still wasn’t the end. Julia watched as the sea of flesh began receding until the man was back to his normal size. It didn’t stop there, though - it kept going until the bones and veins underneath became painfully visible. A loud crack made Julia jump, and through the ever thinning layer of skin she saw the bones of his spine snap. One half folded inwards, while the other jutted upwards and tore through whatever flesh there still was. The man couldn’t talk anymore and instead produced a beast-like cry. A teensy part of her felt pity for the bundle of pain at her feet, but another part of her remembered everything he had done to countless people, including her. Now, he was nothing but a skeleton covered in nearly transparent, taut skin. Suddenly, it all stopped. The spell seemed to have done everything that it was supposed to do. With her heart beating so hard that it seemed about to jump out of her chest, Julia checked the man’s pulse on what was left of his neck. Please, be dead. Please, be dead. After what he’d gone through, she didn’t think it was possible for him to be alive, but the human body could be surprisingly resilient. Well, not this time. She looked at the symbols. Should she erase them or would that affect the spell? The first thing she thought of was to call Paul, but the longer she stayed there, the higher the odds of her being seen, and she had no idea how to explain what had happened. So, she left, as discreetly as possible. Would the neighbour she had talked to remember her? Would anyone even care about what had happened to the ‘creepy white man’? It occurred to Julia that she didn’t know his name. It was probably among the papers in his miserable flat, but she had no desire to go back up those stairs and pass by what was left of its occupant again.

———————————————

Julia did her best not to run. Sure, people knew she was an outsider who had no business being there, but that was no reason to make things worse by looking guilty. She could see the bookshop sign up ahead, and felt almost as scared as she’d felt facing the sorcerer. Would she be able to…? First the bubbling cauldron, and below… The Bog Witch! Julia savoured every letter as she got closer. Then, she looked at the window and saw all the books with all their silly titles. She was even happy to read Paulo Coelho’s name.

‘You’re alive!’ Paul beamed when he saw her return. ‘Did it work?’

‘Yes, I am, and yes, it did.’ Julia smiled, too.

‘And the sorcerer?’

‘Dead. The spell just kept going until there was barely anything left. I didn’t erase the symbols, by the way. Should I have?’

‘The police won’t know what they are,’ Paul shrugged. ‘And anyone who does, will know what the spell is for, and that he wasn’t innocent. No one will suspect you, though. Did any of the neighbours see you?’

‘I don’t think so.’

‘So, are you going to write about this? It’s a pretty good scoop.’

Julia remembered all her best laid plans to escape her present situation. Magic being real was a huge story. There was already a ton of evidence that something supernatural was going on, and there would be even more now that people were healed. There was no scientific way to explain a hand growing back, or someone gaining/losing insane amounts of weight in minutes. But what would the magic community think? Could she become a target? She’d been extremely lucky dealing with the nameless sorcerer because he didn’t know anything about magic - she doubted she’d be so lucky next time she faced a witch. Of course, there was always going to be some who wouldn’t believe it, even with all the evidence, and what would happen if those people were the ones in charge? Or what if it was like in Harry Potter and both governments were cooperating to keep things secret? Her big break could lead her to a straitjacket or an unexpected ‘accident’. Also, there was the matter of the dead body she’d left behind. Could she get in trouble for that? She had seen it as self-defence, but a judge might disagree. Would publishing the story be brave, or foolish? At first, Julia had thought the former, but now she wasn’t so sure, especially after just getting her life back. Maybe she’d taken enough risks over this.

‘Nah, some scoops just aren’t worth it.’

THE END