Magique Part 1

I walked downtown, and took a left onto Right St. How ironic, I thought to myself. I guess that was all just a big joke, as most things were around here. I pulled up my collar and walked up to the Korean Barbeque and knocked on the back door. A slot slid back, revealing a pair of red eyes.

“Code word?” the voice was deep and raspy, like a chain smoker.

“Bezoar,” I flipped open my Zippo and tapped my pack of Blacks on my wrist. I pulled out one of the cloves out with my lips and lit it. Taking a long drag off of it I looked at my watch. 11:54pm…I only had about 3 hours. I took another long drag off of my clove and tapped my foot impatiently. I really didn’t have time for this. I blew out the exhaust from my lungs and heard the opening of the locks, the sliding of the latch and the turning of the handle.

A large man in a long robe stood in the doorway and blocked my path. He held out his hand and I extended my arm. He pulled the sleeve of my trench coat and nodded seeing the token of acceptance. A searing brand throbbed on my forearm. It burned and was bothersome. He moved out of my way.

“Ms. Halor, anything I can plan for you while you’re shopping?” he bowed his head as I stepped over the threshold. I handed him my coat and shook out my shoulders.

“I guess that you could order a massage with Thisbe and make sure that there’s a cab waiting for me in about an hour. I’ll be done soon.” I put out the clove in the ashtray near the door and walked down the dark hallway. I looked at my watch again and picked up the pace. I needed my fix and time was really running out.

I finally reached the entrance to the Market. The sound of the entire place hit me at once and I put on my sunglasses. The shinning lights from the enchanted ceiling would blind a normal human. There were booths, restaurants, and open aired venders selling their wares. I knew where I was going, and let my feet do their thing, leading me there. My first stop was to see Trek. Trek was my connection. It was the only way to find it. The Market was only known to people whose families have a background of Magique.

I found Trek’s place easily, I’d been here many times before. I turned my neck to the side and cracked it. I pushed back the curtain and entered the opium den and took off my glasses, looking around at who was partaking today. Malaysia was there, and so was Benito. They were sitting in the back corner smoking out of a hookah, and looked up only briefly looked up and then went back to their conversation. I walked up to Trek and threw down a wad of money and a small black bag.

“Trek…I need a hit. A big one, I’ve got things to do and not a lot of time. Hook me up?” I tapped my foot, my arm tingling the whole time.

“Oh, Anissa, hey…I was expecting you,” he looked at the stack of twenties and the bag of gems, “man you really do need some huh? Come on let’s go.”

He took my hand and led me into the back. It was clean, despite the outer appearance. It was almost like a tattoo parlor, sterile looking and something you wouldn’t expect to find in a hole like this. I followed Trek into the back and was in the chair waiting before he even got the tourniquet out.

“You really should watch yourself. You’re going to get really addicted and it’s just going to start eating away. You know the stories, the price, everything…yet you still come to get your kicks.” He measured out the correct amount of Magique and tapped the side of the syringe. I braced myself for the initial pain of the needle and then sighed as the viscous fluid flowed from the glass container, into my veins.

My body reacted the way that it always did and I shook a little and gripped the chair tightly. The energy flowed through my veins with the Magique. I felt the rush and opened my eyes. Everything was always so much clearer when you had a hit. This one was good, it would last me at least a good 3 weeks. I’d need it to deal with Christopher.

So many people, like Christopher, didn’t understand Magique. People whose bodies could not handle the Magique would suffer from Trips. These were the negative effects of Magique when used by those who couldn’t.

There was a deep seeded need for the world to have Magique. It was something people were born with, even though it had died out. It had to be in your family’s history to actually be usable. Magique was not something for learning any more. The Elders had established a way to harness the Magique and made it into a substance that could be manipulated. Stupid teenagers made it the new fad. If you had a Magique bloodline, then you would find a way to get it. Magique was traditionally ingested; but with the world moving as it did, people needed it faster and more convenient. That’s when injecting it started, and that’s when I started getting Magique injections. The times changed and the fads kept coming; first it was injecting, and then huffing it, followed by taking pills, smoking it, and finally tabs.

It was like the drug syndicate that only the privileged knew about, it was something that was kept from normal society, especially after the Hunt. The Hunt was to track down the witches and wizards and kill them for being different. True, some were evil and used Magique for their own selfish purposes. It was a plague on the Earth that needed to be stopped and that’s what some of us were trying to do. That’s why Magique cost so much. That’s why you needed to go underground for it. That’s why I was so intent on harnessing it for a greater purpose. I would need it to deal with killing the man that I had come to love.

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