//-------------------------------------------------------// Things We Do For Love -by Lofty Withers- //-------------------------------------------------------// //-------------------------------------------------------// Sacrifice //-------------------------------------------------------// Sacrifice “Please. This is our last chance.” Lyra’s eyes glistened as she held Bon Bon’s hand. “Lyra.” Bon Bon’s voice cracked, and she looked away while she spoke. “I can’t. Not again. She won’t help. I just want to go home. I just want you to hold me.” Lyra reached up, wiping away the tears. “I’ll explain to her. I’ll do all the talking. Then we’ll go home. I promise. Okay?” Bon Bon closed her eyes, inhaled sharply, and nodded lightly. Lyra squeezed her hand. “We’ll get through this, Bonnie.” She unbuckled and exited the car, circling to open the door for Bon Bon, offering her hand. “I’m not an invalid.” “Sorry. I didn’t mean… sorry.” They walked up to the apartment and Lyra knocked. She slipped her fingers between Bon Bon’s and smiled. “She’ll help. Just wait and see.” Wallflower opened the door. Seeing the pair she grinned furiously. “Hey, I haven’t seen you two in—” Her grin fell. “What's wrong?” Lyra gave another little squeeze. “Can we come in?” “Of course,” said Wallflower, moving aside as they entered. “Have a seat.” She gestured at the love seat beside the coffee table. ”Can I get you anything?” “I’m good. Bonnie?” Bon Bon shook her head. “So what brings you around?” Lyra shot Bon Bon a glance, sighed, and leaned forward. “We need a favor.” “Yeah. Anything.” She leaned forward and placed a hand on Lyra’s. “I know we don’t see each other much anymore, but you’re still friends. What do you need? A place to stay? Money?” “We need help with a spell.” Wallflower grimaced. “Ah, I’m sorry. I don’t do that anymore.” “We know what happened in March.” “Then you know why I can’t help you.” “Wallflower, please. This is important. At least hear me out.” Shaking her head, Wallflower rolled her eyes. “I’m going to regret this. What kind of spell do you need?” “Dark magic.” “I’m not helping you two with dark magic! No!" Wallflower threw her hands up, looking from Lyra to Bon Bon with disgust on her face. "Why would you even ask me that? If that’s it, I’m going back to my gardening now.” As Wallflower stood to leave, Lyra reached out to grab her hand. “Please, Wallflower. We need you.” She shook Lyra’s hand off. “Really? Need? What kind of dark magic spell did you need?” Air quotes emphasized the question. Lyra grabbed her hand again, serving only to irritate Wallflower more alongside the puppy-dog eyes and pouty lips that Lyra now sported. “We need you to trap a spirit in this world. It’ll just be the one time. I promise.” Wallflower choked, pulling her hand away to cover her face. “If you two are planning murder, I am so calling the cops.” “What?!” Lyra stood, scowling. “How could you think that?” “Maybe because you’ve asked me to help you perform dark magic to trap a soul? I’m pretty sure that counts as worse than murder. Now if there’s nothing else, there’s the door.” Lyra’s scowl turned to panic. “Wait, please. Let me explain.” Wallflower laughed. “Explain what? You think you have some kind of justification for this? And why would you ask me instead of Sunset or Trixie? I’m no expert on the occult, and I’m pretty sure they’ve got more magic in their pinky fingers than I’ve got in my whole body.” “I did ask them!” said Lyra, raising her voice and her hands. “Sunset just laughed at me. Trixie threatened to call the cops if we ever spoke to her again.” Tears formed in her eyes. “You’re our last hope.” Wallflower cocked her head, bewildered. “What is going on?” “Bonnie is…” Wallflower looked back and forth between them. “Is what?” The whole thing felt surreal as dread crept through her body. Bon Bon spoke, clear and loud. “I’m dying.” “Fuck.” Wallflower fell back in her chair. “What’s the problem?” “Well I think that dying is a rather big problem.” Growled Lyra. Bon Bon choked out a sob, burying her head in Lyra’s shoulder. Wallflower had the decency to look horrified. “Sorry. I meant, why? How?” “Breast Cancer.” Bon Bon clutched Lyra tighter, whispering. Lyra responded, stroking her back. “I know it’s hard to talk about Bonnie, but just hold on. This is our last chance.” Lyra closed her eyes, resting her head across the back of Bon Bon’s neck. “We’ll make this work. Somehow. If you don’t want to listen to the conversation, you can wait in the car.” Pulling back, Lyra lowered her head, looking up into Bon Bon’s downcast eyes. “Do you want to do that?” “You could go rest on my bed while we talk. My room’s just down the hall on the left.” Wallflower turned and pointed. When she turned back, she wilted under the glare of her friends, feeling like a stranger in her own apartment. “Sorry. I’ll shut up.” The couple turned back to face each other. “What do you say, Bonnie? Car? Bedroom?” Bon Bon turned her head to the hallway. “Alright.” Lyra patted her back. “We should just be a few minutes more.” Bon Bon nodded, stood, and plodded to the indicated room. As the door closed, Wallflower let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “Wow,” she said, turning to Lyra. “So what’s the deal? Can’t she get chemotherapy or something?” Lyra wiped at her eyes. “It’s metastasized.” Wallflower stared blankly. “Okay. So can she get treatment?” Lyra shook her head. “I mean, she can, but it won’t really extend her life much if at all, and she’ll be miserable and sick the whole time from it. Better to live a good life for the short time she has left.” “Thor’s beard.” Wallflower sunk deeper into the couch, pulling her face long. “How long have you known?” “Two weeks.” Wallflower shot forward in her seat. “Two weeks?!” “Well, almost.” Lyra stood and walked to the window. “We were stupid. Ignored warning signs. Didn’t go to the doctor because we couldn’t afford it.” “Don’t you have insurance?” "Hah!" Lyra practically barked the short laugh. “Fat lot of good that does when you can’t afford copays.” Fists clenched, she leaned against the glass. “When we finally did go in, the doctor panicked. As much as doctors do at least, which was mostly just looking sullen and grim, sending me disapproving glares. She scheduled Bon Bon for testing that day and scheduled her for a biopsy before we even got the test results back.” “By the allfather.” Wallflower rubbed nervously at her brow as she stared at the floor. “That’s rough.” What would I do in a situation like this? Odin preserve me. I’d flip the fuck out. Maybe I can make them dinners or something. Mom was telling me about this website where you can set up a schedule and sign up for nights with friends to help feed a family undergoing stressful situations like this. I should suggest that. “Is there anything I can do?” Wallflower looked up. Seeing Lyra sitting there glaring at her, arms crossed, eyebrows furrowed. Realization dawned. “Oh fuck no.” Lyra brought her hands together as her expression flipped, and she begged, even getting down on her knees. “Please, Wallflower. I don’t want to lose her.” She closed her eyes, rubbing away the tears again. “She means everything to me.” “Look, Lyra, get up. Geeze. You know what you’re asking me to do?” Lyra nodded. “Necromancy is some pretty twisted stuff. Like a duck penis. It provides great power, but always at a cost.” Lyra scooted around the coffee table on her knees to stare up at Wallflower. It broke Wallflower’s sense of solemnity about the moment, but Lyra didn’t seem to notice. “Whatever the price is, I’m willing to pay it.” “Alright! Just... stop with the puppy dog eyes, and let me think.” Wallflower inhaled sharply, closing her eyes. “I think I saw something like that in Pink Hearts’s Teach Yourself Necromancy in Twenty-One Days. I guess… I guess we could at least see what the price is.” Lyra raised an eyebrow. “Really?” “Yes! Really. No promises, but we can take a look at it.” Shaking her head, Lyra stood. “No, I meant the book name.” “What about it?” Wallflower stood and walked past the kitchen towards the hallway. Following, Lyra explained. “It’s just, that seems like a pretty weird name for a book on dark magic.” “It’s… just a name. Get over it.” Entering the bathroom, she twirled on Lyra, who’d followed her in. “What are you doing? Get out.” “Oh.” Surprise spread on Lyra’s face. “I thought we were getting that book.” When Wallflower just crossed her arms, Lyra backed out, closing the door behind her as she spoke. “Sorry.” While Wallflower conducted her business, Lyra continued the conversation. “I just wanna say, even if it doesn’t work out, thank you. I know it’s a bit weird to be asked for a necromantic favor, and I appreciate that you’re at least willing to entertain the idea.” “You’d be surprised.” “Oh?” “Let’s just say that my last boyfriend had some really weird kinks, and leave it at that.” “Ick. I can see why you dumped him.” “Actually, I dumped him because he lost his job and spent five months loafing around the apartment doing nothing.” Finishing her business and washing her hands, Wallflower pulled out a drawer on the vanity and reached to the back, moving aside the toiletries to uncover a leather-bound book. “I uh. I drew the line at him getting into my magic books to fulfill his fantasies while I was working.” Removing the book and closing the drawer, she stepped into the hallway, holding the book out for Lyra to see. “Wow. He raised the dead for a quickie? Sounds like one sick dude. Is that…” Lyra looked to the bathroom. “You keep your book on necromancy in the bathroom?” “Don’t judge.” She led Lyra back to the living room. “And no, it wasn’t that. It… I don’t really want to talk about it.” She shuddered. “Wow. Just… wow,” said Lyra as they sat. “You can sure pick them.” “Don’t remind me.” Wallflower lay lengthwise on the sofa, placing the book on her folded-up legs and flipping to the table of contents. She ran her finger down the page. “Let’s see. Here it is. Binding souls.” Flipping through the book, she found the page and paused to read. Lyra fidgeted. “What’s it say?” “Shh.” “Sorry.” Lyra broke her stare, spotting the coffee table book. She flipped it open, studying the pictures of tormented hellscapes filled with hedonism. Glancing over, Wallflower noticed Lyra’s confusion. “That’s by Hieronymous Bosch. The Garden of Earthly Delights.” “Trippy.” “The next page shows the outside of the triptych.” At Lyra’s sudden, piercing gaze, Wallflower blushed and returned to reading. “Sorry.” As Lyra flipped through the book, she was reminded why Wallflower attracted weird partners. “Huh. There are apparently two ways we can do it. The so-called ethical way requires cutting away a piece of your soul to bind the other soul. The alternative requires a sacrifice.” Lyra smiled weakly. “I don’t suppose that means a burnt offering of fat, does it?” “No, but it looks like we can sacrifice the person being bound. Seems like cheating, but there it is.” “Do it.” Bon Bon’s directive drew attention from both Lyra and Wallflower. “I don’t want to linger in pain as the end comes.” Wrapped in a blanket, she stood in the hallway. Lyra and Wallflower shared a look. “Lyra?” “Yeah?” “Get ready, because we’re going to kill your girlfriend.” “...Now?” Wallflower ducked her head, trying to hide the smirk on her face. “Sorry, couldn’t help it. I was trying to be all dramatic. No. I… I’m sorry. I don’t really know how to act in this situation. I’m nervous. I should actually do some more reading in some other books to make sure this will work, and you two probably need time to make arrangements. There’s also the matter of how we do it. Stabbing a knife into her heart might just get the attention of the police, so we should probably check assisted suicide laws in the state. Do you have a lawyer? You should get one, just in case.” “Wallflower?” Bon Bon again drew their attention. “Thank you.” “Don’t mention it.” She smiled. “Literally. I don’t want to open a murder business. But for you? You two were some of my only friends in high school after… after that thing. I guess I can do murder for friends like you.” “Aww,” said Lyra. “That’s so sweet. C’mere. Group hug.” She stood, and the little group collapsed in upon Lyra, laughing and crying. “Alright,” said Wallflower, breaking away and wiping away her tears. “For real this time. Let’s plan a murder.”