One Last Taste

Just one more time, just one more taste. That was all he wanted. That was what he needed. No one seemed to understand it. It didn’t matter how much he tried to explain to them; no one understood. They smiled and nodded politely, but he could see it in their eyes. They thought he’d gone mad.

Perhaps he had, but it didn’t matter to him. The knowledge that lay beyond the veil was worth the paltry price of his sanity. Yet, the things he’d seen in that moment were slipping away by the second. The truths of everything that had been laid bare for him to see were escaping his mind. That was why he needed it again, the black wine.

The bottle he’d found in the attic had just enough for one cup. Enough for one experience that challenged everything he knew. In the fevered dreams he had since then, he had seen where there was more. It was only a matter of having the conviction to take what he needed. There was an abundance of it in this city he called home.

A meager drop of that liquid truth resided in everyone. Their thoughts, their dreams, their nightmares; the black wine was in all of those ephemeral whispers of a notion. All he had needed was a way to harvest and refine those traces. In his restless dreams, the only place left he could feel the truths, he had found his way.

He didn’t know if he should call it magic or alchemy, but the name of it didn’t matter in the end. The patterns revealed to him in dream held the way to the truth. Over the past days he’d scrawled it out in his basement. Section by section, dream by dream. Today was the day he finished it.

There were a few more things he had needed, and they would be arriving today. Quartz to place around the edges, selenite plates and rods for the interior, and a wooden bowl at the center of the design. He could start the ritual without the stones, but it would be far less effective without them. 

“Soon, so soon.” He whispered that like a mantra in a raspy voice that he almost didn’t recognize. How long had it been since he’d spoken? How long had it been since he’d eaten or drank something? Those thoughts and concerns felt meaningless before his goal, his purpose. Yet, there was still time to assuage those baser needs.

He ascended from the basement for the first time in days, and barely recognized the rooms of his house. They had been all but forgotten in his pursuit of those truths. Still, he remembered where the kitchen was.

He got a glass for water from the cabinet over the sink, a couple of slices of bread from the cabinet next to it, and a few slices of ham from the refrigerator. The bread was stale, but it was good enough. All he needed was to be free of the growling hunger that tried to distract him, and slake the thirst that parched his throat.

He ate in silence, as he always did since his wife left. She’d said he needed to get help, that there was something wrong with him. In a sense she was right; there was something wrong, and he did need help. It was what was wrong and the help he needed that they had disagreed on.

He didn’t blame her for not understanding why he needed to see the truth again, because she hadn’t witnessed it herself. She had come home and found him on the floor, thinking he’d drunk himself under the table. Her concern was out of love, but she didn’t understand. 

His one regret was that he wouldn’t be able to share this moment with her. Of all the people he had spoken to and knew, she was the one he wished had understood. It was too late for that.

A sharp knock at the door drew him from his thoughts. There was only one person who should be coming today, and that was the person delivering what he needed. He didn’t need to answer the door and speak to them. Their instructions were to leave the package at the door. Another sharp knock and a familiar voice pulled him out of his head. 

“Mark? Are you there?” It was her! She had come. Perhaps there was a chance, perhaps there was still a way. 

“Just a minute!” Mark rasped back as loud as he could, and he rushed to open the door. She was there when he opened the door, it really was her. Yet, when she saw him, she looked alarmed.

“Mark, are you okay?” Her voice shook some as she asked him that, but he didn’t understand why. Today was a special day, an important day.

“Of course, I’ve never felt better.” Her face suggested she didn’t believe him, but she didn’t question it.

“I just wanted to tell you something, face to face.” The tone of her voice was familiar, very familiar. It was how she sounded when she was going to tell him something that he wouldn’t like. Dull and sad, but firm.

“I’m going to go stay with my mother for a few weeks.” The joy he’d felt at her arrival sank in his chest, but he saw something behind her that lifted his spirits. The delivery truck was coming.

“I’ll miss you.” Those words weren’t a lie, but his eyes weren’t on her as he said that. She could tell he wasn’t looking at her, and she followed his gaze to the truck. 

“Mark.” The firmness in her voice was gone, but the sadness remained. Her voice was a soft trembling now as she spoke to him one more time, “Please, come back to us.”

“I never left, Lisa. I’ve always been right here.” He didn’t understand the tears in her eyes at those words, but she turned to leave before he could say anything else. His heart didn’t feel like it could sink any further, but it found a way to come crashing through the floor. 

His heart was gone, it was leaving him. His last regret was walking away with it. Now there was only one thing left for him. One last taste of the truth.

“I’ll take those.” He told the delivery woman as she brought the boxes to his front door. She handed them over quietly, and he heard her saying something about having a good day. He nodded back politely, just like all those people did to him.

After he brought the boxes in, he locked the door behind him. Now it was time to finish his work. It was time to see the truths of everything again.

After he carried them to the basement, he used a box cutter to slice through the tape on the boxes. He started by placing the wooden bowl at the center, then worked his way around with the selenite, and finally lined the circle in quartz. It was quiet work, and he used this time to smother out the last traces of regret in his heart.

Still, a single tear rolled down his cheek as he placed the last piece of quartz. It was time to put the final touch on the ritual. He nicked his finger on the box cutter, then held it over the bowl. He watched in silent, sullen anticipation of what he’d longed for.

A single drop of blood fell from his finger. It stained the center of the bowl red, and started the spell. He felt the force of the world waking up, but it wasn’t a joyous feeling around him. Nature itself screamed a protest at his actions, but it was too late to stop what he’d started.

A brilliant glow crept through the stones, spreading out from the center to eventually light the quartz border. It was a vibrant red, like the drop of blood in the bowl. In the distance, he could feel it. He could feel the thoughts, dreams, and nightmares of every person being harvested.

Every one of them coursed through his mind in a violent torrent, and every one of them was broken down into a drop of black. Those drops of black flowed through his body, and dripped from his finger into the bowl. He hadn’t thought about what would happen to someone if those things were taken from them, but he knew now.

He felt each one of them being extinguished as their minds were harvested. They were nameless and faceless to him, and surely the truths would be worth their sacrifice. That lasted till one familiar mind met his. He recognized the memories flashing through his head, because he was in them.

“Lisa!” He cried out her name, but it was too late to stop the spell. All he could do was watch their life together play out in his head, but from her point of view. 

Their first kiss, their first fight. Their wedding and honeymoon, and how she’d felt when she found him collapsed. There was so much joy, and so much pain. He couldn’t tell what feelings were hers and what were his.

Just as quickly as it had come, he felt those memories being extinguished into a single drop of black. It was the only one he watched fall into the bowl, and he felt his heart falling with it. He hadn’t considered that she might be caught in his spell, he hadn’t been ready for this.

Mark wasn’t sure how long he stood there, or how long he’d been crying, when the spell was finally finished. As soon as he could move, he collapsed onto his knees. Everything he’d wanted was in that bowl, but the only person he had truly needed had been sacrificed to get it.

Was it worth it? He wasn’t sure any more. Still, there was something he wanted to do. Something he needed to do.

Mark picked up the bowl, and drank the black wine. One more time, his mind was opened to what lay beyond the veil. One more time, he understood the truth of everything. Yet only one time, he understood what he’d done. 

He didn’t have long to decide if it was worth it, as his mind was crumbling under the weight of knowledge. His last moment, his last thought, his last words; they all led to one thing. 

“Lisa, I’m sorry.”