The brush glided along the floor leaving a trail of purplish red behind it. It turned, created circles, moved off at angles. Slowly the lines are laid down and each with its own purpose. Each stroke almost seemed random while it was being laid down and yet the finished product looked entirely predetermined. When all is done the brush is dropped into the jar holding the excess paint that was not used.
Robert stood back and gave a slow glance over his handiwork. It looked complete and, most importantly, perfect. He put the lid back on the glass container holding the specially mixed paint, leaving the brush inside, and placed it back on the altar. The mix must be kept separate from all the others, each has its own special ingredients and one would ruin the other if they were ever to come into contact.
"Well is it ready?" Tonya finally spoke up. She leaned forward out of the shadows of the far corner looking directly at his face. "Are you ready to start now?"
Robert moved only his eyes to look at her keeping his head facing the floor, "Why are you so eager to look at death? That is where you want to go isn't it?" She stood in silence at his words. "The realm of the spirits the home to those who have died. Called by many names such as hell, purgatory, limbo and countless others by those who have seen it or are bound there."
"You told me all this before Robert. Why do you keep saying it again and again? Do you think I am suddenly going to have second thoughts and back out?"
"If you are so ready then begin lighting the candles around the circle, and be careful not to smudge the symbols when you walk." He turned from the altar, holding a worn black leather book in his hands. It was made by his own hands, even the paper, then stitched together slowly over time, it was something wholly his own. "The slightest damage to them could get us bound there as well. What they do to people who don’t belong there is beyond reason and imagination to those who are still alive." Tonya looked at him with wide eyes and a face that was slowly filling with the emotion of fear. "Well are you still so anxious to go?"
"Of course, I have to do this." She tried to put on a sterner face but her eyes showed the fear that was building within her. He stared at her for a few minutes and then looked back towards the floor." Are you getting afraid yourself is that the problem?" She blurted it out in a louder voice than before, attempting still yet to summon up her courage.
“Now you do know that if we find him and successfully bring him back he may not be the same person that he was before?”
“What are you talking about? You told me that we will get his soul, the only soul he’s ever had, not a copy or dupe of any kind, but HIM! So it will be the same person as it was before, it will be my father!”
“Oh yes it will be your father. But… he may not be like you remember him.”
“What are you talking about?”
Robert turns towards her; she can feel his eyes like needles upon her face. It’s like this every time he’s about to get really serious. “He has spent some time in hell, his own personal hell. This is something that nobody can ever be fully prepared for. In that place minutes can seem like days on end, eternities could pass in a single day’s time. Nobody walks away from that unchanged.” He takes another couple steps through the symbol, careful not to touch a single brush stroke. “I know this from experience.”
“What, you mean you’ve died and came back yourself?”
“No. I’ve brought somebody back before, and she changed more than I could deal with. Fortunately for the both of us her changes also made me less desirable to her. So in the end the person I went to hell and back for decided that we were no longer meant to be together. So much for love eternal and undying eh?”
“Well that’s a risk I am willing to take for my father. He means everything to me.”
“Alright then let’s begin the final preparations. I will need your help to move your fathers casket out here into the center; it’s currently in the side room there.”
Face draining of color she follows his finger to a set of double doors on the side of the room. “You mean his body? You’ve got his body in that room?”
“Of course. I mean, his soul has to go somewhere when we bring him back doesn’t it then?”
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