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More than Just a Ride — Season Finale 2

Part 2 of 2

Audio Narration of More than Just a Ride — Season Finale Part 2 of 2
Photo by Alexander Krivitskiy on Unsplash

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.

The human body is a living, breathing miracle of life. We all are born from the same source, whether you call it God or Universal Source.

So it should go without saying that all of us have identical physical features, albeit in some form or fashion, such as eyes, ears, noses, penises, and vaginas. The same can be said about our five senses of the body, the abilities to see, hear, smell, taste, and touch.

And if you accept that Kool-Aid, then we can also say that we are all born with the five senses of the soul: clairsentience (feeling), clairvoyance (seeing), clairaudience (hearing), clairgustance (smelling), and claircognizance (knowing).

The question then becomes: why do some people have it while others don’t?

And the answer is: their energetic bodies aren’t turned on, their access to their five soul senses isn’t opened. But, for some, they’re slightly opened. You know what those are. Gut feelings. Or a mother’s intuition about her child. Or when you shiver with cold when a ghost shakes your hand. Or when a medium helps a lost soul pass over into the light.

It varies in degrees.

Then it comes to the God-given right that each one of us has, which is free will. So it’s a choice if you want these unique gifts opened at all.

Photo by Rhett Wesley on Unsplash

I watched as Keigan stepped into the antique elevator, which was locked and held stationary on the twelve floor after Forensics had cleared the scene. Hands on his lean hips, eyes steady, calm, he silently took in sight before him. It was a nice elevator if you disregarded the blood, bullet holes, and the mess in there at the moment.

Blood splattered groceries were strewn on the floor, a couple of navel oranges having escaped the bag and sat in one corner.

His officer friend, the first on the scene, Officer Derick Deenell, was standing just outside the elevator, his brown mustache fuzzy and furry like Wyatt Earp. “Victim, identified just as Zenetizen on her photo ID, 38 years old, a registered tenant of this building. No late rental payments, good repertoire with the Security folks, quiet, and keeps to herself. Not a problem tenant.” He paused for a second, which had Keigan turning his head to look at him expectantly. Deenell continued, “According to her rental application, her occupation was an Intuitive Tantra Reiki Healer, whatever the hell that means.”

“It means she’s a Spiritual Practitioner who heals chakras in the body,” Keigan said as a matter-of-factly, continuing, “For full disclosure, I know her, Deenell,” his head nodding slightly. “She’s a friend.”

Keigan was there when they had wheeled me out of the building in a gurney.

Deenell winced, his mouth twisting ruefully. “Sorry about that, man. But what the hell is an Intuitive Tantra Reiki Healer? Voodoo?”

Keigan was thoughtful for a moment, answering slowly, “I don’t know how exactly she does it, but the energy comes out of her hands, and people get healed.”

“Sounds like bullshit, if you ask me,” Deenell muttered but stopped short when Keigan threw him a stern look. “Don’t tell me you believe this shit, Keigan?”

“She healed my bum knee,” he responded without hesitation. “She’s got a God-given talent, my friend.”

Keigan didn’t say another word. Deenell shrugged and continued. “The long and short of it is the assailant unloaded four rounds into the victim, all chest shots, all direct hits. Weapon found on the scene was a Walther PPK.”

At Keigan’s sharp look, Deenell shrugged again. “Assailant thinking maybe he’s James Bond?” He shook his head and continued. “The video surveillance in the building is pretty sophisticated and thorough. The elevators, the staircases, the whole she-bang are all wired up tight.” As Keigan slowly turned around in the elevator to face forward, Deenell went on. “Voice-activated elevator. Triggered by only authorized personnel and tenants in this building. This should be an open and shut case, but….”

Keigan’s eyes immediately flicked over to Deenell. “But?”

The older officer started to touch his mustache, stopped when he realized that his gloved hands were filthy. “I’ve been on the force for twenty-three years, and I’ve seen things, and I’ve seen things. But this is gonna be one for the books.”

“Walk me through it,” Keigan said. “Talk to me.”

Deenell stared thoughtfully, his grey eyes focused on the scattering of bullet holes that ruined the back wall of the antique elevator. “Lady was in the elevator, the gate still closed, when the assailant approached her from the staircase.” He pointed at the door to the staircase that was diagonal across from the elevator. “Victim shouts for Security, and they respond, thirty seconds later. Then shots fired into the elevator, and when the victim goes down, she manages to call for the lobby, which takes the elevator down. Security meets her there when it reaches the lobby.”

He motioned Keigan to follow him to the staircase. The inert body laid sprawled where it had fallen, at the base of the lower level, one flight down. Forensics was bustling about the two men. “Jamison Ambrose, MD.” Deenell pointed a finger at the strange twist of the man’s neck. “Prelim says broken neck is the cause of death.”

“What attacked him,” Keigan asked, his keen eyes taking in the relatively clean and tidy staircase.

“I watched the video footage six times, and each time, it doesn’t make much sense.” At Keigan’s steady stare, the older man sighed and shook his head. “Something scared the shit out of the good doctor, Keigan. Video showed him screaming and shooting at…” then he stopped.

“At…?” Keigan prompted.

“Nothing,” the older man grunted. “God damned nothing.”

“You’re not making much sense, my friend.”

“Video caught nothing. I’m telling you, Keigan, that something spooked the man. Spooked him enough to start shooting.” He pointed at the two bullet holes that punctured the wall inside the staircase. “Before he fell down the stairs and broke his neck.”

“If the building is secured, how did Ambrose get in?” Keigan asked, and Deenell answered, “Piggybacked entrance into the building and elevator with an elderly tenant, holding her groceries.”

As the two men stepped back from the broken body, Deenell waved at Forensics, who began the work to clear the scene.

Keigan and Deenell stepped out of the staircase, back out into the hall. The older man clapped his gloved hand on Keigan’s broad shoulder. “You guys close?”

Keigan shrugged slightly, “Was working on it. Thanks for the walk-through, Deenell.” With his gloved hand, he shook the man’s hand.

“Didn’t see any next of kin, and the landlord didn’t have anything on file,” Deenell stated frankly. “You know her parents, her family?”

But Keigan only shook his head. “Didn’t get a chance to find out.” Deenell’s cellphone rang then, interrupting the two men. Keigan watched as his fellow Officer answered, his brown immediately furling into a tight frow. “She what?” His eyes flew to Keigan, who held his hands up, silently mouthing, “What?”

“I’m on my way.” Deenell clicked the red button on his cell before looking at Keigan. “Seems your lady friend is alive and kicking, Keigan. This shit just gets better and better. Let’s go to the hospital.”

I followed them as they made their way down to the lobby and out of the building. That was where they ran into Dean and Marla. I watched as, after a few moments, my trio of friends jumped into Deenell’s double-parked city vehicle and was fast on their way to the hospital. Watched as the car sped down the road, sirens blaring as it fished its way through the NYC traffic.

I turned to Henry, who nodded, and we blinked away.

Photo by Andy Holmes on Unsplash

Time and space meant nothing when you’re outside your body. I didn’t feel anything as I walked up to stand beside the hospital bed, looking down at myself. So that’s what I look like when I’m asleep, I thought.

The steady beeping of the heart monitor broke the silence in the room. There wasn’t any other noise except for the quiet chatter among the medical staff standing at the base of the bed.

“Now tell me again what happened?” A petite nurse-intern murmured to another nurse, her face excited. “I just got here and heard all the commotion.”

“The lady was shot in the heart and pronounced dead at the scene. But when Barry and Clovis got her body into the ambulance, the body moved.” A collective gasp of surprise sprung out of the listeners who held rapt attention to the speaker. “Barry checked her out, and she was alive. Doctor Silver just finished with x-rays and cat-scan, and the lady’s fine. No internal organ damage.” The nurse paused in her story, eyeing her co-workers before adding, “Anywhere.”

“Hey, you think she’s a real-life zombie?” One of them murmured thoughtfully, his eyes nervously flickering to my still body laying snug in the bed.

They gasped loudly, jumping a foot off the floor as the hospital bed began to move. I smiled at Henry as I watched myself inclined the bed, the eyes opening, coherent, and quite clear. “Have you people never heard that unconscious people could hear everything you’re saying? And that it’s just fucking rude to talk about them when they’re in the room!”

The medical staff scattered instantly, and as they exited, a well-seasoned nurse stepped in briskly, her eyes and demeanor no-nonsense. Her name badge said, N. Nashe. She went about checking my vitals, tsking as she worked. “You can’t blame them for being curious.” She said reassuringly. “You are an abnormally, Zee. That’s what sometimes makes for an interesting day here in the hospital.”

“Great,” I heard myself say with heavy sarcasm. “When can I get out of here?”

“You’re technically a gunshot victim.” Nurse Nashe responded. “Police should be coming to interview you soon.”

“Great,” my other self responded.

I turned to look at Henry. “If I’m alive, why am I standing here with you?”

“Why do you think you’re here?”

I hate when he gets into his Cheshire cat attitude. Answering with non-answers and riddles.

I lost connection to my physical body. I’m not the soul since I can see quite clearly that I’m healthy and hearty in that hospital bed.

So what’s really going on?

With a bit of confusion, I turned as people came rushing into the room. Marla. Dean. Keigan and Deenell. Marla threw her arms around the other Zee, crying and screaming with relief. Zee wrapped her arms around the hysterical lady, gasping as Dean threw his weight on the other side of them.

Nurse Nashe tsked tsked tsked as she planted her fists on her round hips. “Excuse me, please! If everyone can back away from the bed, please….” She looked at Deenell, familiarity in her face. “Good to see you, Officer Derick, and on a good occasion, for once.”

He nodded at her, his grey eyes smiling. “Likewise, Nanci.”

My heart melted as Keigan went to Zee and gave her a tight bear hug. “If you squeeze me any hard, Keigan,” Zee said breathlessly, “I’m not gonna make it.”

“Keigan, make way, man,” Deenell said as he stepped up to the bed. “Miss, you’re a walking miracle. If you feel up to it, I’d like to ask a few questions.”

Because I was there when it happened, I tuned out from the scene before me, lost in my thoughts. To say that the entire experience playing out before my eyes were surreal was an understatement. In what seemed like moments, the police interview was over, and Deenell was gone. I frowned slightly when Weader and Ava came rushing in a short time after. I watched as the room became warm gold and green, the sweet feeling of love and warmth radiating from it.

I looked at Henry, my lips unmoving, but yet my thoughts spoke. “Why is this happening to me, Henry? What lesson is it that I need to learn?”

You manifested this, my darling.” He looked at me, his thoughts touching mine through the ether. “You had asked for this choice to make.”

“I don’t suppose you can stop being so fucking cryptic and just give me a simple answer?” My eyes filled with exasperation. “I manifested what choice?”

But Henry only shook his golden head at me, his golden eyes incredibly gentle. “All the answers are within you, my darling. But, of course, you already know this.”

I turned back to look at my human form, sitting up in the hospital bed, laughing and smiling with her group of close friends. Like a normal girl who went out on dates. Who couldn’t read or feel people’s auras. Who didn’t see or heal chakras. Who didn’t see spiritual guides or spiritual dogs.

The answer swelled up within my heart, like a flaring fireball that instantly spread intense heat and energy throughout my entire being.

Quothe Hamlet, To be, or not to be — that is the question.

Status of the Case of the Antique Elevator: To Be Continued in Season Two — October 2021




An elegant Erotica Romance Fantasy Fiction written by Z. E. Lian ~ A fictional journey through the eyes of Zenetizen, the Intuitive Tantric Reiki Healer. A series of first person stories with audio narration following her cases of sexual healing, including her own.

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Z. E. Lian

Z. E. Lian

An elegant erotica romance fantasy storyteller who believes there’s more to sex and the woman’s body than just the average bump and grind. hello@zenetizen.com

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