Heaven’s Just a Sin Away: The Devilscent Project, Chapter Four
By Donna
The Devilscent Project
is the brainchild of blogger (The Alembicated Genie), author
and all-around provocateur Sheila
Eggenberger whose novel, Quantum Demonology,
poses a most intriguing question: What happens when you try to seduce the
Devil? What trickery and charms must you use to ensnare the One whose home
address is 666 Hades Circle?
A select group of artisan perfumers has tried to answer this question with
their mysteriously scented concoctions, all with this one thing in mind. Each
was tasked with creating fragrances for the Devil himself and for Lilith, his
eternal (and infernal) wife. A corresponding group of perfume writers was
recruited to record our impressions of these potions. It works best if you read
at least part of the book first to get the gist of the idea. (Warning: the book
pulls no punches and is not for the faint of heart. Sheila takes us down to the
very depths of depravity, and we beg for more.) Find their Devilscent Project
writing on this page
of Sheila’s blog and this
page of Monica Miller’s Perfume
Pharmer blog as they are published.
I was inspired not only by the book but by the perfumes
themselves, all so different from mainstream offerings that some of them don’t
even have a point of reference in conventional perfumery. I took artistic
license and created my own story, with some parallels to Quantum Demonology but
from another time and place. In the first installment, the
scene was set. The second chapter of my exploration of these potent
perfumes took us to a very dark place, and all
hope seemed lost. In the third chapter,
our heroine made a
terrifying discovery about what had happened to her and managed to make
a harrowing escape…but did she really get away, or just jump from the frying
pan into the fire? Let’s find out in the finale to the tale….
**********
She runs and runs until she thinks her lungs will burst. She
has to slow down as the darkness creeps into the woods and she is afraid of
falling on the uneven ground. The house must be at least a mile behind her now
but she can’t really tell how far she has come; there is no path and no sign of
a road, for which she is grateful now, since it will be harder for anyone to
follow her. Soon it will be too dark to find her way and she knows she must
find shelter, so she heads down a slope hoping there will be a stream below.
She is burning with thirst, and even though there is no food, she won’t get
much further without drinking, and she wishes she had thought of putting
something to eat in her pockets when she slipped out of the house. Too late
now, and there are no berries or green shoots to eat at this time of year. Down
the hill she goes, slipping on loose drifts of damp debris and pine needles. Suddenly
her foot becomes entangled in a hidden root and she loses her balance, tumbling
down and landing at the bottom with her face in a pile of cold, wet leaves.
Stunned, she tries to take a breath and get her bearings. Except for a sore elbow, she is not badly
hurt, but she is so exhausted that she just lies there waiting for the strength
to get up again. It is so cold now and the light is almost gone. At least I am
still alive and not in that awful place, she thinks, but what do I do now? The
raw, primal smell of the forest floor fills her nostrils, and then she smells
something else; smoke, acrid and strong, and tarry in a way that a fire out in
the middle of nowhere should not be – this smoke smells like a burning house,
or maybe rubber tires. What on earth can it be? She forces herself to turn over
and gingerly sits up. Through the dense trees, she sees a dull glow, then a
flicker, and then a shadow moves in front of it, barely visible in the dusk.
Someone else is here! (Perfume:
Devilscent # 2 by Neil
Morris)
She freezes in terror and holds her breath, sinking slowly
back down to the ground. Whoever it is must have heard her tumble down the
hill, so she can only hope it’s a hunter or camper and not someone from the
house. When she looks toward the fire again, a figure emerges from the trees
holding a lantern. It is a man wearing a long coat, and when he lowers the
lantern to see who she is, she sees the awful emblem on his arm: a swastika. Oh
no, he’s one of them! She rolls quickly away and scrambles to her
feet, backing away quickly – maybe if she runs fast enough she can escape. However,
she has paid a price for her fall, and she feels a sharp pain in her left ankle
as she pivots away. Running is out of the question, and all she can do is wait
for the inevitable. So she is astonished and transfixed when the man takes a
hesitant step toward her, stops, and then just says one word, softly. “Lila?”
“How do you know my name? What are you doing here? Where are
the others?”
“Please don’t be afraid of me.” His voice seems almost sad
as he pleads, holding his hands out to placate her. “There is no one here but
me. They will miss me soon but I slipped out this morning unseen and they have
no idea where I am. I was going to go back, but now that I see you have
escaped, I don’t have to do it.” He speaks in clear yet halting English, with a
heavy accent. “I am so happy to see you, let me explain everything. Come back
to the fire and get warm. I have just made soup.”
What choice does she have? She can’t run and she can’t walk
fast enough to get away, and she is so tired and thirsty. Her shoulders sag in defeat.
“All right. I – please, I need water. I have been running for a long time and I
am ready to collapse.”
“Of course, you must drink. Come, sit down.” He gestures
toward a rough blanket folded on the ground. “Sorry it’s not more comfortable
here, but I have not had time to make a better camp.” He hands her a canteen once she is seated and
she drinks greedily and long. She thinks she must be even thirstier than she
realized, because the water is the sweetest, most quenching elixir that she has
ever tasted. Then he brings her a bowl of hot soup and some dark bread. She
smiles gratefully, suddenly too exhausted to do anything but eat. Finally, she
starts to feel a little stronger. Now the fire throws flickering light on the
dark wood, as it is completely dark.
Her companion finishes his meal and stands up. She looks
apprehensively at him, and he draws his coat tightly around himself. He paces
nervously in front of the campfire, then turns to face her.
“I must tell you why I am here. I know you have no reason to
trust me, but you need to hear me out.” He looks anguished, and she looks him
full in the face and sees his distress. She also sees by the light of the fire
that he is fairly young, with brown eyes and a chiseled face. His dark hair is
cropped short in the military manner, and although he is not as good-looking as
Devon, there is a kindness in his eyes that
puts her at ease.
“My name is Franz. I come from a good family, and I became a
commissioned officer in the Army to advance my standing. I wanted to be a
diplomat. I never dreamed that I would be handpicked to join the elite corps
surrounding our...leader. I cannot even
speak his name.” He grimaces in disgust. “I hoped to have an uneventful career
before that man came to power, but it all changed. I was trapped, and for the
safety of my family, I knew I had to perform any duties asked of me. Mercifully
my connections meant that I never saw combat during the war, and I was never
sent to serve at any of the detention camps, but I knew what was happening, and
I was forced to witness arrests and interrogations. My place was to be a
glorified bodyguard for one of the Gestapo’s high ranking officers, and then
when he was called to Poland,
I remained behind and ended up in the retinue of Adolf Eichmann.” He laughs
bitterly. “I thought my first position was bad, but this was so much worse. He is
a monster with ice water in his veins, a cruel man with a terrible temper. When
the war ended, I thought I would be free of him forever, but he escaped
punishment and went into hiding, and took a few of his most trusted officers
with him. I had no choice but to go; the power of the Nazis was broken, but he
knew where my family lived, and I knew what he would do to them if I refused.
So, with the help of a secret network, we have been living on the run ever
since. No one knows that we are here now. I have not worn my uniform since Germany
surrendered, but they made me wear it here. I have just been burning everything
but this coat in the campfire. It makes them feel powerful to put on all their
medals and gloat about what they did. I despise myself for enduring it until
now, but I did not know what else I could do. But now they have gone too far,
and I can no longer pretend to serve such a master.”
“I overheard them plotting one night; they did not know I
was in the next room reading a book when I could not sleep. I could not believe
what I heard, and I still cannot make complete sense of it, but Eichmann has
aligned himself with an evil so terrible that the fate of civilization could be
at stake if they win. Your friend Devon is at
the center of it, with help from many others. Tonight was the night they were
to carry out the plan, but since you are here, it is obvious that you must have
suspected something. What happened?”
She tells him of the sinister tapestry, the voices in the
hallway, and her desperate run into the woods. “What does it mean? What are
they going to do to me? I thought Devon was my friend. Although I don’t think friend is the
right word. He is fascinating, but intimidating too. It all feels so unreal,
and I don’t belong here anyway. I just want to go home. Can you help me get
home?”
“No, I cannot, but I hope I can save your life. I came out
here to think, to plan, and to figure out how to keep them from harming you.
Midnight was the hour, and I was just preparing to go back to the house when
you arrived so dramatically.” He allowed himself a slight smile. “Remember the
man you were going to meet that night, in your own time? If you had done so,
you would have ended up marrying him and having a child, or so Devon told them. The only way to stop it was to keep you
apart, and so he had to intercept one of you. Of course he chose you; he is a ladies man if nothing else.
It was the child who was important – it would have grown up to become someone
who would unlock buried secrets about the war they don’t want uncovered. Now he
is done with you, and he would have handed you over to those other men. Believe
me when I say there are worse things than dying, for I have seen them. What was
planned for you tonight, I would not wish on my worst enemy. Now we must find a
way to get you to a safe place, if such a thing exists. I deeply regret my
weakness and inaction of the past, but if I can help you, I will be able to
hold my head up again.”
She sits very still for few moments, trying to take in
everything he has said. She must trust her instincts when all else has failed,
and something tells her he is speaking the truth. She raises her eyes and says,
“I will go with you. I have no one, and nothing, I have to trust you.” She
struggles to her feet, and then remembers her sore ankle. She cries out and
nearly falls, and as he reaches out to steady her she collapses into his arms.
She smells the wool of his coat mingling with the smoke of the fire, but mostly
she smells him, a musky masculinity that is so human, so warm and reassuring
that she almost weeps with relief. Could it be that she has found someone she
can rely on in this terrible predicament? (Perfume: Devilscent # 1 by Neil Morris.)
He releases her gently and takes her by the hand. “We must
conceal ourselves and keep going. It is too dark now to travel, too dangerous
in the woods at night. You must get some rest. I will douse the fire and you
can sleep in the tent. I will stand guard just to make sure no one followed
you.” She is more than willing to follow
his instructions, and when she goes into the tent and finds the blankets
already laid out, she is asleep in moments.
**********
She awakens in the dark, not remembering for a moment where
she is, and then it slowly comes back to her. Something is wrong; Franz had put
out the fire, but a flickering glow plays across the tent, casting shadows in
the small space. She crawls to the opening and pulls back the flap. Devon is standing there with his back to her, and Franz
is facing him from across the remains of the campfire. When she gasps, Devon turns to see her there, and he is no longer the man
she knows. His face, though still beautiful, glows like a burning ember, and
his black clothing gives off an eerie light in the darkness. His signature red
scarf is like a living flame, flashing and coiling around him like lightning.
Her mind goes blank with fear.
“My dear Lila, surely you did not think you could hide from
me forever?” His voice is as seductive as ever, and he meets her eyes like a
cobra hypnotizing its prey. “You were greatly missed at dinner tonight. I told
them you still had a headache, but when I went to your room to see if you had
decided to come back, I was…disappointed. I am not accustomed to disobedience.
Come back with me now and all is forgiven. I will not let any harm come to you,
I promise.” He takes her by the shoulders and brings her to her feet. As ever,
his magnetism is so compelling that she can barely breathe. He is giving off a
powerfully sweet yet disturbing aroma, a smokescreen of sensuality that is
drawing her helplessly into his words and she feels the force pulling at her.
His body exudes light, but it is somehow the darkest thing that she has ever
seen, darker than the night itself, enfolding her in its depth like the vortex
of a maelstrom. Behind her eyes starbursts of blood red pulse and she falls
toward him, unable to help herself. (Perfume:
Dev 1 by Ellen Covey of Olympic
Orchids.)
“No!” It is Franz’s voice, hoarse
and desperate, breaking the spell. “You will not take her back to that house.
You will have to fight me first, you demon!”
Devon releases her abruptly and she
stumbles backward. He turns toward the German with a smirk on his face. “Do you
really think you can win, you pathetic little man? Do you have any idea what
you are dealing with? Who do you think you are? Do you know who I am?”
Franz stands his ground. “Yes, I do. I overheard your little
plot, the bargain you struck with Eichmann and the rest of his unholy alliance.
I cannot allow you to do this. I suspected something was not right with you the
first time I saw you, and now I know what it is. You are the face of all evil,
even though you are very good at hiding it. Go find someone else to torment;
Lila has done nothing to deserve this. Not that you have a conscience, but she
can’t really harm your plans. You have the power to keep her here or let her go
home, and that means you can also keep her from meeting the man with whom you
are so concerned. I know you are just toying with everyone involved, including
your so-called friends. What would it take to betray them as well? An insult to
your vanity? A broken promise if you don’t deliver her to them? I find it hard
to believe that there is any honor in your agreement with those vermin. I can’t
stop you from hurting someone else, but I will do my best to keep you away from
her. Know this: I gave Lila a drink when she came to my camp. What she did not
know was that I was saving that very special water for your midnight ceremony.
She has been drinking the water from a true sacred spring, and if you touch her
skin you will not like the result. Your kind has an aversion to holy things, am
I correct?” He is defiant, his chin thrust forward and his fists clenched.
Devon’s eyes glitter and
become narrow and even more brilliantly blue; then in a flash, they become
pinpoints of red light and his face fills with rage. “I don’t believe you! How
could you possible acquire such a thing? You are bluffing!” He grabs Lila and looks into her face, then
slowly raises a hand and touches her cheek. A streak of brilliant blue arcs
from her skin and travels up his arm and he springs back as if shocked by
electricity. The sleeve of his coat turns blue and gives off an icy blast of
cold, and his hand turns a ghostly shade of white. “What have you done? You
fool, you have ruined everything!” He whirls to face Franz, who is waiting for
him; with one swift movement, he throws the water from his canteen right into Devon’s face and he shrieks, clawing at his eyes as the
blue fire flows over him and spreads into his hair. As Lila watches in horror,
the handsome Devon disappears, replaced by a
hideous figure that looks like one of the characters in that awful tapestry,
and even as he morphs into a hairy, slouching beast he turns to ice before
their eyes, a twisted creature frozen in time. In a matter of moments he is immobilized,
his demonic face contorted in a permanent snarl.
Lila stares in disbelief, and Franz grabs her hand. “We must
leave now - he won’t stay that way forever. We have just enough time to get
away if we move quickly.” He picks up his duffel bag and then swings her up
into his arms. “I will carry you down to the nearest road; it’s on the other
side of this hollow. Someone will help us.” She leans into him as he climbs the
opposite slope, and soon the shock of all that has happened overwhelms her. She
feels herself spiraling into unconsciousness and lets it take her into
oblivion.
**********
She opens her eyes, and it is a grey morning – or is it
getting dark again? She wonders where Franz is and looks around. She is lying
in a single bed in a very plain room with white curtains. He must have found a
motel nearby – but where are they, exactly? Are they far enough away from the
house, and Devon? She thinks ruefully that she
needs to stop calling him that, since he is obviously not a man. She wonders if
the image of him turning into a monstrous pillar of ice-blue flame will ever
leave her mind.
A soft knock on the door and a woman enters the room; she is
middle aged and plump, with a sweet face and an apron over her flowered
house dress. “Oh good, you are awake. I was just checking to see if you need
anything. I am Elsie and this is my house. My husband has gone into town to buy
some coffee for breakfast. We were not expecting company.” She smiles and the
room lights up. Lila smiles wanly in return, grateful for the woman’s
reassuring presence. “Your friend is out chopping wood for the stove. What a
nice young man, offering to help with the chores. He said you had been hurt and
had a terrible fright. None of my business of course, but you could use a few days
of bed rest from the look of you, poor thing. When he showed up at our door
last night, Owen and I knew you were in some kind of trouble.” A car door slams
shut and Elsie glances out the window. “There he is now – guess I better finish
up the cooking. If you feel up to it, please join us in the kitchen, or can I
bring you a tray?”
“I would like to come out – I don’t want to be alone right
now. Thank you so very much for taking us in.”
The woman shuts the door behind her and Lila sits up, testing her ankle.
It’s much better today, and she walks down the hall and finds the bathroom. A
few splashes of cold water work wonders, and she is glad to find a hairbrush to
tame her wild locks. Thank goodness she still has her warm clothes. She will
need a bath soon, but that can wait until she has eaten. The kitchen of the
farmhouse is bright and sunny, and great platters of food await them; eggs,
biscuits and gravy, bacon, ham and apple pie. A big pot of coffee is a most welcome
sight. As she sits down, Elsie’s husband Owen greets her with a cheerful wink,
and then Franz comes in, his face flushed with exertion. Their eyes meet, and
she hopes he can tell how grateful she is for his help. He smiles and nods. She
knows they need to talk, but first they need their strength, and they both
devote serious attention to the meal. After they are finished, Franz gets her
coat and they go out into the spring morning. How wonderful everything smells!
The fragrance of daffodils under a window, the fresh air, the sweetness of wood
smoke and apples, and the sensuous aroma of Franz’s aftershave and manly musk all
conspire to lift her mood. She feels better at this moment than she has since
this all began. (Perfume: Devilscent #3 by Neil Morris)
“What will we do now? What will you do? You can’t go back either.” He gazes into the distance, then
back at her. “No, I cannot. There is no place for me in this world now. I have
no Army career, no job waiting at home, and I cannot surface for fear of
reprisal against my family. They don’t know if I am dead or alive anyway; they
probably think I died in the war since they have not heard from me in so long.
My poor parents, perhaps it is better this way. They will never have to know
what I had to do for the Nazis. Eichmann and his cronies will find a way to
escape again – they always do. I wish I could take you back to where you
belong, but I don’t know how. I guess we are stuck with each other for now. I
have money – it’s in a numbered Swiss bank account for safekeeping at my
father’s insistence, and we can live on it for a long time if we are careful. I
will get a job doing something anonymous. No one will know where to look for me
– for us.”
She takes his hand and presses it between both of hers. “I
can think of worse things than being “stuck” with you, Franz. You saved my
life, and you could easily have lost your own. Those men would have killed you
on the spot had they known you were not on their side. You are the bravest person
I have ever known and I am proud to call you my friend. If I may say this, and
please forgive me if I am speaking out of turn, I feel as though we are already
more than friends. When I met you last night – was it only a few hours ago? – I
knew somehow that you would become very important to me. I had to trust you, and
you did not fail me, even for a moment.”
He bows his head and after a moment he speaks softly. “I feel the same
way, Lila. I first saw you that night in the ballroom – you would not have
noticed me with Devon – excuse me, the Devil - in the room, but I was
struck by your beauty and sensitivity.
When I found out that you were the intended victim of their horrible
plot, I simply could not bear the thought of it. I know it would be nearly
impossible to get you to safety, although I was determined to try, and I am so happy
that you were strong enough to escape from the house by yourself. You are quite
a woman.”
Hand in hand, they wander around the farm and tell each
other about their lives. When the sun is high they walk slowly back to the
house. Elsie and Owen offer to let them stay as long as they wish, but they
need to move on, and after Lila bathes, Elsie packs a hearty lunch for them and
hands Lila a small suitcase. “Our daughter is away at college – she won’t mind
if I give you a few of her old clothes. She got herself a fancy new wardrobe
anyway, and she won’t miss these.” Lila hugs them both and they set off toward
the road again. Franz flags down a bus and they soon find themselves back in
the city, but they avoid the area near the hotel where Lila stayed with Devon. They find a tiny but clean hotel away from the
city center and take two rooms. She is relieved that in this simpler time, no
one asks for a credit card or photo I.D., and they give the clerk false names. A
little Italian restaurant down the block beckons them for a late dinner, and
after a glass or two of Chianti, they can finally relax a little bit. Lila
wears a simple flowered dress that belonged to the farmer’s daughter; Franz
cannot take his eyes off her. Reluctantly they leave and walk arm in arm back
to their lodging; it’s getting late, but she feels as though she has gotten a
second chance at life, and she does not want to miss a minute of it. They cross
the street to a drugstore and buy some toiletries, and on impulse Lila adds a tiny
bottle of perfume at the last minute. She has seen it in stores before, but in
this era the bottle is prettier and it only costs her a few coins. She just
wants to feel normal again.
**********
Back at the hotel, she takes the longest bath she dares
without using up all the hot water, and dabs on her new scent. It is so wonderful
that tears come to her eyes; what would have happened to her in that terrible
place? Everything seems so much sweeter now, so full of poignancy. She puts on
a light cotton nightgown and brushes her long hair until it gleams. It feels so
good to be clean, warm and safe, but sleep is the last thing on her mind right
now. She knows Franz is nearby, and that there is no one else on their floor.
She takes her key and steps into the hallway, crossing quickly to Franz’s door.
She knocks once, and waits. He opens the door wearing a robe. He has also just bathed,
and he smells so good it makes her dizzy. He looks at her intently with a
question in his eyes.
“I don’t want to be alone. Who knows what will happen
tomorrow? They could find us again, or something else might separate us. All we
have is now. Please, let me come in. I want to be with you tonight.” Wordlessly
he opens his arms wide and she runs into them. He closes the door behind them
and lifts her off her feet, holding her against him fiercely. Her heart is
pounding and she can feel his doing the same. When he puts her down, she
reaches up and pulls his head toward her. Their kiss is long and almost
unbearably delicious. They can’t get enough of each other, touching, kissing,
and finally falling on the bed, both of them nearly in tears with their need to
be closer. Lila pulls at the belt of his robe, and he answers by undoing the
buttons at the neck of her nightgown. Soon they are naked and he rolls onto his
back and holds her at arm’s length above him, just looking at her in the
lamplight for a long moment. He strokes her hair and then traces her breasts
with his long fingers. She leans into his touch, shaking with desire. She feels
his hardness beneath her and it takes her breath away. Then he shocks her even
more by moving his hand down her belly and touching her between her thighs,
probing her gently. She can wait no more and she shifts her body to take him
slowly into her, crying out with pleasure. He rocks her back and forth; she
leans forward even more and he kisses her breasts, moaning softly. Their
movement becomes ever more urgent and finally they both explode in ecstatic
relief and are left trembling in each other’s arms.
Lila cannot help but think, even while lying with Franz in
the aftermath of their joy, that this is so much better than being with Devon. This is real,
a man and a woman being together without trickery or deceit, just two human
beings experiencing the best part of being alive. The smell of her perfume
mixed with their aroused bodies, the feel of the clean sheets, and the
knowledge that she is with the man she really wants creates a heady mix of
emotions and sensations that’s almost too much, and she lets out a little laugh
of sheer delight. After a time, they turn to each other again, moving together more
slowly this time, exploring each other with tenderness and wonder, and coming
to even greater heights of pleasure. They talk in whispers for hours, their bodies
entwined. Somewhere in the long night, two lonely and hurting hearts begin to
heal, and love blooms like a flower in the desert. (Perfume: Babylon Noir by Kedra Hart of Opus Oils.)
**********
When morning comes, something is different. The light is not
as bright, and the room feels more enclosed somehow. Lila gets out of bed and
goes to the window. Instead of a little drugstore across the street, the
morning sun is blocked by a high-rise office building. It’s noisy too – the
street is filled with cars, beeping and revving their motors. She looks down
and sees a late model SUV pulling away from the curb. They are no longer in
1946 – she is back home! She whirls around, afraid that Franz will be gone, but
he is still in the bed, sleeping peacefully. She can’t believe it! Here is a
second chance for both of them, and now they will never be separated. She runs
back to the bed and shakes him excitedly. “Darling! Wake up! You won’t believe
what happened!”
Image credit: Special effects flower photo by Donna
Disclaimer: All the Devilscent perfumes were sent to
me for testing by the participating perfumers.
|
9 Comments:
WONDERFUL! I have loved reading your story, Donna! This would make an awesome graphic novel, or film :D
Amanda
Thanks Amanda! I wonder if I could get Christina Hendricks to play Lila, lol! Viggo Mortenson could play either one of the main male characters - he is good at being evil and great at being good. ;-)
As the instigator of this dark and devilicious romp through time and space, good and evil...I have only one question to ask: Would you be up for turning this into a screenplay with me? ;-)
Since words otherwise defeat me and since you did exactly what I hoped for, these two words will have to do:
Thank you, Donna! This has been a journey and a pleasure without compare!
This is just so EXCELLENT, Donna! Great job! Thanks for drawing me in!!!
Yes indeed, Tarleisio! A screenplay please!!!
Tarleisio, I would not have missed this for anything! Such fun, and a chance for me, and the rest of the bloggers, to do something REALLY different.
A screenplay? Sure, as long as I get to be the casting director. ;-)
Thank you so much Neil - after all, it was your magnificent "Crossroads" perfume that lit the flame of my original concept - part film noir, part pulp novel, part good old-fashioned adventure! :-)
This is just entrancing. I love the idea of it, the darkness, the mystery. What fantastic writing, and even better, it revolves around perfume. :) I really enjoyed it.
Thanks very much, Eclectic Musings! I truly enjoyed writing the story.
Rrrroowwwr, Donna!
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