Welcome to the New Year fellow humans! The last month and a half has been quite a trying one personaly and professionally, things have gotten in the way of telling stories and I apologise for that, I may write a blog up on what's been happening, I may not, We'll just have to wait and see what happens in that regard. But there's no time to be maudlin, I'm happy to present my first story of 2017! This little spooky tale is called "Shifting The Lens." Please take the time to have a little read, I'm looking forward to some juicy discourse with you all...... Shifting The Lens By Elliott Thomas Darius inhaled deeply from the pipe and settled back into the folds of the well-worn lounge. The Opium was already beginning to work its euphoric magic. He felt the familiar, funny burning sensation trail through his body and his mind began to drift, his muscles relaxed; expanded, and Darius entered what he liked to call the Deca Dance. His lazy eyes drifted over his lodgings. The small dingy brothel the young man inhabited didn't have any use for him at the moment, nor did the whore that was at his groin struggling to undo his pants. His interest was not in the carnal, but in the cerebral. "Leave me alone woman." Darius slurred, his voice a mix of accents; attributed to his bastard upbringing, "Get on the bed." He continued as he reached over to dig a hand into his coat pocket that hung haphazardly over the arm of the lounge. His hand closed down upon some coins and he tossed them lazily towards the bed. The whore ceased her fumbling, got up, and went off to collect the payment. Satisfied the whore would not bother him anymore, Darius resumed the relaxing task of the Deca Dance, he spun slowly on an axis in his mind and he felt expansion; rising and slow falling. He smiled at the beauty of this perfection. The whore had returned from her scavenger hunt; she was saying something, but all Darius heard was a droning din. He was far away from her now, nothing else mattered. She turned and left, Darius hoped it was for good, but it didn't really matter; the Deca Dance had begun and he would enjoy every minute of it. The night would drift on like this for the young Darius, until the first slivers of morning would cause him to take his leave and return to his mundane life. __ "Now Mr. Hettinger, keep holding that pose and we're almost there." Darius spoke from under the black cloth shawl that was attached to the large camera. He fiddled with the Rack-and-pinion mechanism to achieve the visual clarity he needed to get the best side of Robert Hettinger. Mr. Hettinger was a very distinguished gentleman and a darling of the social scene around these parts, Darius guessed he was in his late forties, maybe fifties, with that full mane of white hair and bushy white beard. Mr. Hettinger had obviously kept himself in shape too; even though the man was wearing a thick black coat over his suit, his frame shone through the lens in front of Darius quite obviously. And the upside down image gave Mr. Hettinger the illusion he was a bat hanging upside down in the back room of Johansson's Antiques and Daguerreotypes. "Almost there." Darius muttered as he double checked the lens, the finest in craftsmanship from Lerebours and Secretan. It had cost an arm and a leg, and barred him from the Deca Dance for what seemed an age, but to Darius it was a necessary purchase to set him on a path to immense wealth. Photography was booming now, and he was always a man at the forefront of progress and opportunity. And that's why Darius now was a creator of the finest daguerreotypes; it would serve him well until the next sure thing came along. Satisfied with the image, Darius slid the camera closed and stepped out from under the black cloth. "And we are done Mr. Hettinger." Darius exclaimed; Hettinger was visibly relieved as he let out a sigh and craned his neck from side to side. "I didn't realise it would take so long." Hettinger sniffed as he approached Darius; who was fiddling with the camera. " Daguerreotype is a very delicate process Mr. Hettinger," Darius explained to the older man, "If you think that took long, I won't bore you with the details on how the picture is actually processed." "When should I return to collect?" Hettinger asked as his bushy white eyebrows furrowed downwards towards his watery blue eyes. Darius bit at his bottom lip, hopefully giving off the impression he was thinking long and hard about the question. "Maybe a week would suffice?" Darius offered Hettinger, the old man snorted and shook his head. "Now, now, I won't wait that long" Said Hettinger, "I'm sure there's a way we could speed things up." He reached into his vast coat and produced a large pouch, to which he deftly placed it into Darius's waistcoat pocket. It bulged out awkwardly as Darius felt the obvious weight of the coins pulling down at his side; causing the waistcoat to hang lopsidedly. "If you come back in a day or two, I'm sure it will be done." Darius smiled thinly. "Good man," Hettinger smiled and extended a large gloved hand, Darius took it and felt his body rattle from Hettinger's vigorous handshake; the coins jangled in Darius's waistcoat. Mercifully, Hettinger let him go, the older man turned on his heel and as he left the back room he tapped a finger to his forehead. "Pleasure doing business with you Mr. Johansson, I'll return in one day!" "See you then Mr. Hettinger." Darius called back, and when he heard to door shut, his smile disappeared and set into a grimace, he needed to close the shop; there was a lot of work to be done and Mr. Hettinger was not a man to be kept waiting. __ Creating a daguerreotype is laborious. To develop the plate, a mercury bath with sliding legs is required, the mercury is housed in an iron vessel and the temperature of the Mercury is controlled with the help of a thermometer. The exposed plate is placed into the box, then warmed slowly with a spirit lamp set at fifty-five degrees Celsius or thereabouts. The mercury vapour then reacts with the plate and the photographer can watch the image develop through a small window in the box. Darius watched through this window as the outlines slowly developed; he scratched absent-mindedly at the stubble on his jaw and then pushed back a stray lock of black hair behind his small ears. He yawned and wondered what time it was. He guessed it would have been just past midnight. His mind returned to the task at hand, the image looked just about ready. Carefully, he used a pair of tweezers to remove the image plate, Darius then moved over to the counter in the darkroom and placed the plate in a tray of Sodium Thiosulphate, this was done to wash and fix the image so it could be seen clearly. Yawning again, Darius bent slightly to get a look at the picture. His eyes went wide and he let out a gasp, the wind knocked out of him as he stumbled back and keeled over, crashing to the floor. In the picture, standing next to Mr. Hettinger, was a woman. Darius sucked in air as he slowly got back up onto unsteady feet, his entire body shaking. He wanted to run out of the store and into the street; into the first populated bar. But he knew he couldn't leave the picture like it was.... As much as he wanted to. Darius shook from head to toe as he stepped back towards the picture, with grim determination, he forced his eyes upon the image and with a deep dread and horror Darius stifled a scream. The woman stared back at him still. Breathing heavily, Darius forced himself to take in the woman's features. She wore a long dark coat which reached her ankles; the collar of her coat turned up, resting just below her pale, delicate jaw line. Even though terror gripped his heart, Darius could see the woman was beautiful. She had full lips, a petite nose and stunning catlike eyes; they seemed to stare through Darius, but also offer him a sense of childlike playfulness, as if she knew something he didn't and wasn't going to reveal. She looked to be in her mid to late twenties, Darius guessed from the darkness of her hair in the image it had to be pitch black, which would further accent the paleness of her skin; it made her look almost like a porcelain doll. Darius could not even begin to imagine how she had appeared in the image, but he suddenly felt like he wasn't alone in his darkroom, he imagined this woman standing behind him; her cold breath against the nape of his neck. Darius was surprised that it didn't bother him as much as he would have thought. Darius grit his teeth, he needed to finish the process if he wanted to prevent the image from being destroyed, so ignoring the picture, he set about doing so. __ As the night wore on, Darius gilded the plate with a heated solution of gold chlorate and sodium thiosulphate to make the image more resistant and bring out a more vibrant, richer tone. Without looking at the picture, Darius fixed the plate in a protective frame and sealed it tightly. Now it was finally complete. He stole a glance at the image, the woman was still standing there, still looking slightly mischievous. Darius shuddered as he felt an attraction to the woman in the picture, there was something familiar about her, though he was sure he'd never met anyone like her in his life. He'd remember a woman like that for certain. Darius murmured under his breath and ran both hands through his long unkempt hair, he exhaled loudly as he delicately picked the picture up and held it close to his chest, cradling it like a child without even realising it. He stared off into space, muttering quietly to himself until he came to a decision, he needed to medicate. He slipped the picture into his inside waistcoat pocket, there was no way Darius would risk leaving such a valuable item in the store while he was absent. No, this image was going everywhere with him. Darius moved quickly, spurred on with a dark energy; he picked up an overcoat, threw it over his shoulders and exited the store, taking off down the cobblestone street in the direction of the nearest brothel. __ "Turn over you filthy slut." Darius commanded, his voice dripping with Sexual energy. The whore under him on the bed moaned and twisted herself around, Darius grabbed her hips and yanked her roughly up towards his groin; she cried out louder as he drove his hard prick into her, sliding in roughly. Darius grunted with anger as he began to pump back and forth into her, her large breasts slapping at his knuckles as he gripped her rib cage tighter with each thrust. Sweat poured down his back as he throbbed inside of her, pain and pleasure meeting and intertwining once again. As Darius continued to thrust, the sound of wet flesh slapping together filled his ears, drowning out the grunting and moaning. He looked over to the couch where his clothes lay in a heap, he spied that the picture had freed itself from his waistcoat and was laying face up towards him. Although Darius expected his reaction to be one of fear, he was surprised to feel his prick had gotten harder. He looked down and his mind conjured up an image of the beautiful woman in the image, he ran his hand down the curve of her pale back, feeling the spine under her wet skin, feeling her quiver with pleasure. Darius quickly grabbed a fistful of her black hair and yanked her up towards his torso, she yelled out in ecstasy as Darius's other hand found her breast, cupping it, he felt the softness of her, the hard nipple at the end playing across his fingers. Darius let loose a scream as he spent himself inside the woman; he convulsed as his seed continued to shoot out inside of her, giving the woman as much pleasure in the orgasm too. They fell into a heap, breathing heavily; steam rising from their two entwined bodies. Darius could feel his veins trying to burst from under his skin, heart banging against his chest like a hammer. He rolled off of the woman and turned her around to tell her he loved her, only to be dismayed he was looking at a common whore. "Get out." Darius ordered before she could say anything. "Leave me be." The whore wanted to protest, but one look at his eyes told her it was time to go. She packed up her things and exited quickly. Darius lay there on his back, feeling alone, he wanted the woman in the photo more than anything in the world, though he didn't understand what had changed his feeling from fear to adoration. Darius didn't care, he decided he was keeping the image, Mr. Hettinger could fuck off for all he cared. Darius slowly rose from the bed, feeling a chill come over him, he moved unsteadily towards the image on the couch, eyes transfixed on the woman. He picked it up, careful not to smudge the glass and smiled at her. She smiled back. Darius screamed and threw the picture onto the couch where it landed face down and the terrified young man shrank back, cowering in fear, but the worst was yet to come. He whimpered quietly as he heard the obscene sound of fingernails scratching against plate-glass, Darius screamed again and covered his ears, he needed to block that awful sound from existence. He forced himself to look at the overturned image and his blood curdled as ice filled his veins. The image had begun to move. And slowly, gloved fingers slid out from under each side of the plate. Further and further, these fingers pushed outward, revealing tightly gloved knuckles, then delicate wrists. Darius continued to whimper in terror and disbelief as two arms emerged from under the plate and with a swiftness Darius could not have anticipated, a head emerged, knocking the plate off the lounge. The pale woman was here, in the same very room as Darius. He cowered in the corner of the room as she slowly rose out of the image and took her first slow steps towards him. Darius rammed a fist into his mouth to stop from screaming uncontrollably. He squeezed his eyes shut and sunk down naked further into the corner, hoping to disappear into the wooden floorboards. There was complete maddening silence for a few agonising moments, before it was broken in the most beautifully obscene way. "Look at me, Darius." The woman commanded, it was a full, sensual voice that was charged with sexual energy; Darius couldn't help but obey. He opened his eyes and looked up the woman standing above his naked, shivering body. She was even more beautiful in the flesh. Her jet black hair spiralled over thin shoulders; pale skin bright against the night, her feline eyes a bright emerald-green. She wore that same gothic coat from the image over dark suit pants and knee-high boots, Darius could see the outline of her breasts as she breathed in and out delicately. He took her all in and felt himself stiffen. "Stand." She commanded and Darius did so, she looked down at his prick and smiled, it had gotten obscenely hard. The pale woman licked her lips and placed a gloved hand upon his throbbing manhood, Darius sighed as she began to massage him into oblivion, her touch was delicate, yet there was a power behind each stroke. Darius's eyes rolled into the back of his skull as his pulse quickened, he felt as if he were entering the Deca Dance, it was mind numbing bliss. It didn't take long until Darius had spent himself again, this time into a puddle on the floor. "Now put your clothes on and listen to me." The woman ordered as Darius dropped to the floor; a heaving mess. With all his might, he rose unsteadily and moved over to the couch. Darius dressed haphazardly, not knowing if he were asleep or awake. He looked down at the image on the floor, Mr. Hettinger stared back; standing alone now. Darius turned to face the pale woman, masking his fear with defiance. "Who are you? How is this possible?" The pale woman smiled devilishly, "You may call me Audri." She answered him simply, "And I am here because you captured me." Darius frowned, "I don't understand, I don-" Audri raised a hand to the stammering Darius, he silenced his questioning immediately. "I've been drifting in this fucking Hell hole for years and thanks to you, you finally captured me." She bent down and scooped up the metal plate which held the image of a lone Mr. Hettinger. "Your daguerreotype captured my spirit and I was able to find my way back." Darius shook his head, he didn't want to understand her words, he wanted to return to his Deca Dance, but that wouldn't help the situation now. "Now listen to me." Audri brought Darius back from the edge, "I've been attached for so long to that evil man..... and it's time to pay him back for his crimes." "What? Who are you talking about?" Darius questioned, brow furrowed down, mind fuzzy. "Why, Robert of course. Robert Hettinger." Audri answered as she spread her arms wide. "When he was my age, he took my life." Darius sucked in a breath, Hettinger, a murderer? It seemed absurd, but he would believe anything at this point. Audri moved in closer to Darius and touched him lightly on the arm, "We need to take care of Mr. Hettinger." She whispered into his ear with that soothing silky voice. "He cannot be allowed to live with his crime." Darius closed his eyes as he felt a single tear escape from under the lid. Audri drew him into an embrace, Darius could feel her tight body against his own and he rose again. "Do this for me Darius, right this wrong." Darius brought his arms up and wrapped them around the pale, beautiful woman called Audri; he would do anything right the wrongs done to her. __ They travelled silently back to the store, the sun was rising and they needed to hide Audri in the darkroom until Hettinger showed up; when he did Darius would have to find the strength to wipe his miserable existence from the earth. He left the store closed for the day until Hettinger finally showed himself late that evening, the old man announced himself by banging loudly at the front entrance, Darius answered him, unlocking the door and ushering him in. "My God Johansson." Hettinger exclaimed as he looked down at the dishevelled, unkempt Darius. "You look quite the mess!" "As I said Mr. Hettinger," Darius began, trying to keep calm, "daguerreotype is a very delicate process." Hettinger smiled, his blue watery eyes twinkling, "So I take it that you have finished it?" His excitement burst through every syllable. "You bet Mr. Hettinger, step right this way." Darius retreated back slowly and directed him towards the dark room. Hettinger smiled and pushed past Darius, eager to see the finished product. The old man strode forward, Darius bringing up the rear. With a flick of his wrist, Hettinger pushed the curtain of the darkroom aside and made his way inside. Standing straight backed and statuesque in the middle of the room, a playful smile on her pale lips, Audri waited as Hettinger stopped dead in his tracks, surprise washing over his worn features. Hettinger stared at Audri, his brow furrowed in confusion, "What the Hell is this Mr. Johansson?" He turned around to face Darius. "Where is my Picture?" "Right here, Robert." Audri cooed, causing Hettinger to turn his attention back to her, recognition dawning upon his face, "You got more than you bargained for." "Audri?" Hettinger spluttered, "What? How?" "Surprised are we?" Audri chuckled, her voice sounding like dead leaves, "I'd imagine you would be, dear Robert." "But you're dead, I saw you die!" Hettinger's voice rose, violence dripping from every utterance. Audri laughed mirthlessly. "Oh yes, you would believe that, seeing it was you that did the fucking deed!" Hettinger stayed silent, it was all Darius needed as confession, it gave him the strength to act. He drew a sharp gold-plated knife from his waistcoat, an old antique he'd acquired years ago and had left in his store for protection. He didn't hesitate as he drove the knife into Hettinger's back, right between his shoulder blades. Hettinger grunted as the wind was driven out of him, but Darius underestimated the speed of the old man, who turned quickly and backhanded him across the face, sending Darius stumbling backwards. He crashed onto the table which held all of his daguerreotype equipment, sending bits and pieces tumbling to the floor, creating an ungodly noise. Hettinger roared and yanked the knife from his back and he bounded towards Audri with a murderous rage etched on his face. "I'll make sure you stay dead this time!" He yelled as she stood there, awaiting his violent embrace with a smile. He was blindsided by Darius, who threw his entire weight into the charging Hettinger; they tumbled over the other work table and slammed into the floor with a sickening thud. Darius's breath came in shallow gasps as he rolled off of Hettinger. He felt himself growing faint, black dots in the corner of his eyes. Darius tried to rise, but felt a sharp pain in his stomach, he glanced down and with dismay saw that the knife had been driven deep into his gut, a large red stain flowering from the wound. Darius's head lolled back and hit the floor with a small thud, he coughed and tried to get up again, but his body wouldn't obey him. Before he could do anything else, Hettinger pounced on him, hands clasped around his throat. "I'm going to kill you both then." He said with menacing calm, the fall had sliced the top of his scalp which hung loosely and flapped disgustingly each time he opened his mouth to talk. "You bastard little child, I'm going to choke the fucking life out of you." Darius was losing consciousness, he had to something before he drifted away completely. His fingers closed around the hilt of the blade buried deep within his stomach; with a grim determination, he yanked the knife out from inside his body with a shout and brought it up toward Hettinger. Before the old man could register what was about to happen, the knife tore through the bridge of his nose and sliced through his left eyeball, splitting it in two. A glob of blue and yellow and red puss shot out and landed on Darius's face, causing him to cry out. Obscenely, Hettinger was still trying to choke Darius to death, so the young man pulled the blade back out, causing Hettinger to convulse, and stabbed again, this time the knife finding Hettinger's right eyelid and burying itself to the hilt. In an instant, Hettinger dropped, the life and fight completely gone from him, leaving nothing but a gored corpse behind in his departure. Darius spluttered and pushed the body off of him and felt his limbs relax, his hand went to his gut, he could feel his life seeping out of his body, tears began to leak from his eyes; he didn't want to go like this. Darius looked up and standing before him was Aduri; she was radiant. She knelt and raised him slowly up into a sitting position, cradling him as one would a small child. He felt safe and secure, he finally felt like he had a home, a parent; someone to care for him, someone to hold his hand and walk with him into the everlasting Deca Dance. __ The town locals were saddened to hear of the disappearance of Robert Hettinger. But truthfully, people were more upset that a certain Darius Johansson had decided to retire from daguerreotype and head for greener pastures. Although no one seemed to mind when news spread that a beautiful young woman had taken over the business. People flocked to this beautiful, dark-haired woman, her skill in daguerreotype completely unmatched; seemingly surpassing even the skill of the young Darius. And if people ever missed him, the young woman kept a steel plate-image hanging above the entrance of the store. The image was of Darius Johansson sitting in his darkroom with a wide smile on his face, it hung there so he would always be remembered by each customer who wanted to be immortalised, by the ever shifting lens.
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About Elliott
Elliott Thomas is a native Sydney dweller who loves to write. No genre is off limits. That's all you need to know, carry on. Archive
March 2018
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