Ginger and Something

"Is... is everything supposed to go black?" The fizzy taste of the beverage was still on her tongue. Ginger and... something.

"Yup," said Linsey. It lasts about five minutes per sip."

"Five minutes! You didn't say—" Her heart rate leaped upward, she began to sweat, and she sat up with jerk.

Linsey's hand caught her shoulder and gently pushed her back down into the seat. "Relax, this is normal. You can stop it at any time. Well, any five minutes or so. Just don't take another sip. See how you feel like this."

She gulped, thick and hard, leaving an ache in her throat. "I don't like it."

"I know. Give it a minute."

She did.

"Am I supposed to be seeing things?"

"Yeah, the brain starts making stuff up after a while."

"Woahhh..."

"Yeah." She could hear Linsey's grin. "Kinda neat, right?"

"Kinda... yeah, it's neat. Where..." She groped for the can.

"Here." Linsey put it in her hand and she took another sip. Ginger and something filled her mouth, fizzed down her throat. Tamarind. Was that a taste she knew?

"You'll stay with me, right?"

"Yeah," Linsey said.

A grin crept onto her face, and it stayed there.

Demons of the Past

Professor Lewis drew on her pipe and held the smoke for a considered moment, weighing Vernon with her eyes. When she spoke, it was in a cloud of smoke. "If demons are real, why on earth do you think I should know something about them?"

Vernon looked at the aged academician with disbelief. "You're the best-known scholar of demons and evil spirits in mythology. Breathing in the Demons of the Past sold more copies than Chicken Soup for the Soul. If anyone knows, it's you."

Lewis held the pipe to speak clearly. "Kid, those are folkloric and metaphoric demons, riding the cultural subconscious from our historic pasts into the morally stained future. Don't make shit up because you're sad and lonely."

"I'm not—!" Vernon reined in his anger. He put a hand on the professor's arm. "They're real, and I need your help." Pause. "I can make you help me." Lewis tried to pull her arm away, but Vernon's casual-appearing grip was iron-hard. "I ate one. It gave me powers."

"Perhaps I can help you." Lewis sounded unafraid, and she returned the pipe to her mouth before lazily backhanding Vernon across the room. "But they're much more potent when smoked."