HELL: 12

“Enough, dispense with the clownery! A journey to the underworld without a return is death. Clown. Take this Remy creature back and return to me my child Princess.”

High on menace, I turned to the sculptures in the garden and chose a bust with soft features and a gentle nose. This was the path to the end of Remy, and the beginning of Remy. I opened my make-up kit, set out the clown white and clown red.

I took Remy’s bell from my pocket and placed it in the bust’s bust.

I held Remy in my mind. I could picture her just so. Her arms, her mouth. The way she grimaced and laughed. The way she slipped on a banana peel. Could I really express that fully? She felt like a distant homuncula, microscopic and timid.

The stone yielded to my sponge and my fingers, becoming soft and familiar, a luminous body.

I had Remy’s subtle body in my mind and I would empty myself of her to the dregs. I knew how she sensed and fell, screamed and jumped, but i never knew how Remy thought, felt, or wanted. I could hold her form perfectly in mind.

The paint spread down the statue, coloring the rectangular base, with no setting powder it smeared and mixed.

It had started as a figment of my imagination, but what stood behind me captured Remy’s being. It still lacked life. I turned to kiss Remy/Remedios. I placed my lips against theirs.

I turned and embraced the statue, touched my lips to hers gently, feeling the still-wet paint rub off on mine.

Vampirism in reverse, sleep paralysis made sleep mobility, the demon exhaling the spirit of the most only Remy, lifting itself off the body, stepping off the bed, and the body fills it’s lungs.

I followed her to hell with no body, no schtick to call my own. My soul-part which I could not control, Remy, my muse-eidolon. Her face the original I had been copying for years.

Her skin not painted, not made up, but otherworldly clown white and red, set with hellfire. The mortal whim that consumed a demon's flesh was it disembodiment or misembodiment? Atop the statue’s head I began to mold the air in mime, a crown in the shape of the church they came in on, eight spires, a miniature Sagrada Família.

A flash of light and much vampire hissing later, and the demon and the statue went slack in the same moment. The two fell into a heap, clinging one to the other.

There were now two where there was one, Remedios and Remy, demoness and earthclown spirit made flesh.

The Hell Queen shouted “Mon p'tit bébé!”

Remedios tutted her mother, and began, "If I were asked what entertainment is needed today for our infernal folk, I would answer without hesitation: only those that the circus people will be able to give through their art. Long live the juggler!"

Remy and Remedios kissed eachother passionately. The Queen kissed both pates dearly, one daughter, one daughter’s possessor.

Clootie squoke and Furcifer spat out, “I’m going Barfelona.”

After the blistering kisses came to a conclusion, Remedios addressed the clown, “It’s high time we evicted you.”

Remy pulled out a can of whip cream and drew a one-way pentagram to earth. She and Remedios opened the portal with a kiss.

“Next time, let’s go slumming in Heaven.”

Both stood on the hellside. Remy gestured to the earthside, “On you go, clown.”

The merry elfclown took a step back into the world.

Hell is so ravaging, ravishing, vanishing...


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