ENTER ZENETIZEN — EROTICA FANTASY FICTION SERIES
More than Just a Ride — Season Finale 1
Part 1 of 2
I’m Zenetizen. I’m an Intuitive Tantra and Reiki Healer.
I’m neither formally trained nor educated in being a Tantra or Reiki Healer. I’m just pretty plugged into the Universe, and this is my calling, for better or for worse. How people find me, well, there’s word of mouth and Divine Timing.
Here’s my story.
Fear and hate come in all shapes and sizes. In any form or fashion. I see it all the time in the news. I’ve seen first hand, some many times that I’ve lost count, how these dark energies feed on people, spreading very easily among them to have tangible effects, real outcomes. There’s something to be said about the cliche Misery loves company.
It’s incredibly contagious, these dark energies.
But so is love. As low vibration as fear and hate are, love, on the other hand, is the highest of them all. I’m not just talking about that kind of love that you’d have for family. I’m talking about the love for life, the love that you have for yourself.
This is the energetic shield that I have around my body, in my heart. We’re human, after all, with a god-given right of free will. I choose to love myself and not feed the fear.
In the twilight hours of the night, the dark energy had slid into me through the bottoms of my feet, rising my spine until it spoke in my head. Wake up and fear me.
But I didn’t open my eyes and continued to lay on my side, sleeping. After a few moments, it repeated its words, shaking my body to get my attention.
It got no rise from me. Not fear, not acknowledgment. Not even one eye opening. Eventually, it got the hint and slipped out of me, fading into the darkness of the night.
Don’t feed the fear.
My studio apartment in Tribeca was a modernized building with all the bells and whistles of the 21st century, but it used to be a warehouse built in the early 1900s. It went through the ages from being a dry goods warehouse to a textile factory before ultimately being renovated into the ultra modernized secured residential building that it currently was. A cute throwback feature that always reminded me of those olden days was the spacious antique elevators with auto-collapsible metal doors. Aside from this quaintness, it was still a modern mechanism powered by whatever to make for a smooth ride to and from the apartment.
Another throwback in the building was Jack.
He was there when I stepped into the antique elevator, my hands full with grocery. The elevator was voice-activated, obeying only authorized tenants, which was a plus since I couldn’t push a button at the moment.
“Twelve,” I said as I deliberately ignored the man, turning around to face the steel doors, my back leaning against the wall.
“Hey, good-looking, what’s cooking?” Jack smiled, his grey eyes mischievous. He turned his entire body my way and leaned an arm against the back wall as he winked at me. He was literally a 70s model drenched in obnoxious cologne and wearing a cluttering of long gold necklaces laid against a thick mat of dark chest hair. He was like John Travolta in that classic movie Staying Alive.
But not.
I refused to look at him. But my exasperation was beginning to simmer. My eyes dropped to Howard, my huge spirit dog of unknown breed, sitting at the base of my feet, his glowing golden eyes wide and curious on Jack.
Unperturbed, Jack continued with a suave tone that literally dripped with sugar. “Is that a mirror in your pants? ’Cause I can see myself in them.”
My eyes began to roll as I started a countdown in my head.
“Baby, baby, baby!” He said as he slid a hand over his greased back hair. “Do you know karate? Because your body is really kickin’!” And as quick as a whip, he undid his fly and had his limp albeit long dick in his hand, a huge grin splitting his ghostly pale face. “How do you like them apples?” And he cackled like a fool.
I looked drolly at Henry, my spirit guide, whose golden light blinked behind Jack’s right ear. Henry usually ran interference for me when it came to ghosts trying to come near me or in my home. “Really, Henry?” I said with complete exasperation. “You couldn’t block me from seeing this?” I waved my hand at the limp ghost dick. “Now I can’t unsee this shit.”
In my head, I heard his calm voice. “He’s like Casper, the friendly ghost, Zee. Utterly harmless.” I felt his chuckle. “This is Jack, the Zipper.”
“Jack the Zipper?” I repeated as my eyes went back to the ghostly Bee Gee wannabe.
“Baby, baby, baby!” Jack laughed with delight. “That’s my name! Don’t wear it out!”
I looked at his dick with sympathy. “Little Jack looks dead in your hand, Jack Zipper. How about I send you into the light? You need to go home.”
An actual look of horror overcame him. “Zee! Why would you ruin my fun like that, darlin’? What did I do to you to deserve that?”
I waved at the shriveled penis. “Need you ask? And besides, you’re always bothering me whenever I get on this elevator. I don’t need it, buddy. Make like a tree and leave.”
But he shook his ghostly head. “Not ready to go knock, knock, knocking on Heaven’s door, darlin’.”
“You’re a ghost, Jack.” I reminded him. “No knocking required.” But he shook his head resolutely.
“Suit yourself, Jack.” By this time, the antique elevator stopped on my floor. As I waited for the doors to open, a movement outside the metal frame caught my eye. A man had stepped out from the staircase across from the elevator, his piercing eyes bright and fixed on me.
I instantly remembered him because I never forget assholes. Standing across from me was Dr. Ambrose.
“Hold the elevator,” I commanded, and the structure froze in place, its metal doors unmoving.
I said nothing as I watched the doctor glared at me with such open hatred that the air shimmered around him. Given that the color of his aura was pitch black, I didn’t need to wonder much about his intentions.
“Call Security,” I commanded the antique elevator just as Dr. Ambrose pulled a gun from his waist. While the actual weapon worried me, it was the black demon dog that pulled itself out of his energy that worried me.
The good doctor actually had him an actual hell-hound.
“You are evil.” He said with such formality that it was also like a declaration. “You are devil spawn. You do not deserve to be here.” Raising the weapon, he pointed it directly at me.
At that moment, a voice came through the elevator intercom, calling out, “This is Security. What’s your issue?”
“12th floor,” I shouted, my heart racing. “Ambrose has a gun!”
What happened next happened incredibly fast, but here’s the conundrum. Time literally slowed, and I was able to see everything.
Henry did something that he never did before. He stepped into me. As my energetic body bloomed with his spiritual energy, multiple flashes of light popped, popped, popped before my eyes.
In that same moment, Howard growl with such fierceness, my skin began to crawl, my insides turning frigid. Watched as my huge golden spirit dog instantly lung through the steel doors at the snarling black hellhound. Saw Jack the Zipper launch himself at Dr. Ambrose, who screamed and tumbled backward into the staircase. Heard the frantic screaming and more popping sounds.
Henry shouted, “Lobby!” The antique elevator stirred and began to descend.
“What are you doing, Henry?” I shouted with alarm as he released the grip on my hands, dropping the grocery bags to the floor. “What’s happening?”
“Don’t be afraid, my love,” Henry said, his voice reassuring as always. “I am here with you.”
He leaned us against the back of the elevator, letting us slide down the wall to lie on the floor. My body was weightless, and the cold that was seeping into me turned warm, loving. I could only respond by nodding slightly. I didn’t have the strength to wonder why I was now looking up at the ceiling of the antique elevator, looking up at Henry. His fair hair fell around his lean face as he looked down at me, a beautiful smile on his lips. “Sleep now, my love,” he murmured as he covered my eyes with his golden hand.
Again I nodded slightly, feeling so utterly safe and wrapped in his warmth. Then a thought floated up from the back of my head as if it was struggling to rise from dark, murky depths.
It was the first time that I’ve ever seen Henry’s face.
Why would I be seeing his face now?
Status of the Case of the Antique Elevator: To Be Continued.
