Free Soul Corrupted by Lisa Gail Green

gulp for air, unable to get any…well, once that happens, a person
usually tries to get out of the water. How hard is it to lift your head from a
basin? Unless… Ah! Something or someone must have held your head under.” An
electric shock issues from Lucifer’s finger and jolts my eyes open.
    We’re standing in my old bedroom, before the porcelain
basin set on its claw-footed stand in front of the gilded mirror. Everything is
gaudy and overdone, trimmed in gold and lace, velvet and satin, flowers and
paisleys. It makes me ill.
    “I’m right, aren’t I?” he asks, tightening his hold.
    “Of course you are,” I say, my throat constricted.
“Please, Lucifer,” I look into his eyes and let him see my pain reflected
there. “Please don’t make me watch it again.”
    “Oh, my dear,” he says, “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
    I let my body relax. If he weren’t holding me up, I’m
sure I’d be a puddle. “Thank you.”
    “You’re going to relive it,” he says, his teeth glowing
white in the gas-lit room.
    The smile melts from my face as Lucifer’s words sink
in. I panic, wanting to run, but his grasp is like iron.
    “Let’s set the mood, shall we?” he asks, as though
we’re standing in the moonlight reliving some romantic memory. “You secured
your place by my side by making some very interesting choices. First, you
escaped the rural Virginia town in which you were born. Then you seduced the
richest man you could find in the big city of Philadelphia. Not an easy task
for a girl with African blood back then. But then you were trapped in a
loveless marriage. So what is it that you did next? Help me out, Keira, don’t
be shy. That’s not like you.”
    When I realized all Maxwell Campbell felt for me was
lust, it was too late. I picture his face, so clearly infatuated with me, but
only physically. He was happy with me in his bed, though, and at least I had the
money I desired. But I wanted more. Lucifer knows all of this—but he
delights in making me say it.
    “Come on, Keira. You wanted more than the wealth he
promised…” Lucifer prompted.
    “I wanted love, too,” I say softly.
    “So you looked for it by bedding everything young and
attractive in a fifty-mile radius, littering the city with jaded men.” He
stretches out a hand as though showing me a street lined with bodies. “Soon you
figured out that no one was interested in more than your body. But did you
stop? No. You continued on your quest, punishing men by framing them for
various crimes they never committed.”
    They used me. They deserved what they got.
    “You even found one of your favorites in bed with the mayor’s
daughter and accused him of raping her. He was run out of town.” Lucifer tsk s.
    I refuse to feel guilty. She could have spoken up and
saved him if she cared. He deserved to learn how it feels to be scorned. Still I
remain silent, wondering at what point I’ll be forced to relive my death.
    “What’s the matter, Keira? Why so quiet?” He takes me
by the shoulders and shakes me. I whimper, anticipating what’s to come.
    I’d beg some more, but I know it won’t do any good. I
just have to take it. It’ll be over eventually. It always is. So why am I so
scared?
    “Very well, then. I’ll continue.” Lucifer turns me
around and there’s Maxwell, sleeping in the four-poster, handlebar mustache
twitching in fitful sleep. The scent of his tobacco nearly chokes me, it’s so
strong, and even now the opium pipe on my dresser calls to me with the promise
of its comforting haze. “Chances are you would have died within the year from
drug addiction, anyway. But you found a much more entertaining way to go.” He
chuckles again.
    I realize he’s no longer holding me and so I turn. Lucifer’s
gone, and I meet my reflection in the mirror above the basin. It’s me, on the
night of my death.
    Stray tendrils of hair spray out from beneath my
bonnet, and dark streaks of makeup are smeared beneath my eyes. The basin