Regressing Lots

Chapter 1
Regressing Lots: Chapter One

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Chapter Description: Heather receives a strange package by mistake, and releases the strange being, setting in motion the bizarre events to follow.

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Chapter One: Regressing Lots

By Septimus

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My first story to the archive, with the full run somewhere in the order of a dozen or more chapters. Have patience, the regression revealed in the end isn’t even close to what’s in store.

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Heather Banks sank into the leather of her office chair, allowing herself a deep breath. It had been a rough three hours of mediation between the Zakowski’s, and she was certain that Mr of the couple (a big nosed jerk named Rudolph) was cheating on his wife, Zeanya. It made her sick whenever she ran into a man like that. Her own husband, Kyle, had never cheated on her. But Kyle was dead, killed by a drunk driver, and Heather was alone in the world. She was pushing 45, and while she worked out in the gym and kept her body in fine shape, she had not found a single other man she could trust. In fact, in desperation for companionship, she had finally accepted the advances of Linda. Heather had no sexual interest at all in other women, but Linda was a fun date, and she figured once Linda had discovered the lack of chemistry she would leave Heather alone.

Heather got up from her desk, looking out the window at the night sky. It was 9:00 at night, and the lights of the skyscrapers competed with the glare of the full moon hanging in the sky. It was a clear night, and Heather was certain if she was up at the cottage, she might be able to see the stars. The cottage was up for sale now, and Heather hadn’t used it since Kyle had died. They’d spent every beautiful weekend they could there. Now the place felt like his ghost wandered from room to room, and even visiting it to make sure it was clean for sale put a hole in her heart. She poured herself a drink of brandy from the decanter on her side table, plopped some ice cubes into the amber liquid and looked thoughtfully into the night.

She needed to move on. Hell, she was dating a lesbian to avoid moving on. Not that there was anything wrong with Linda. Heather was medium height, slender and well toned from excessive hours at the gym, shedding every last bit of flab she’d put on after Kyle’s death. It was easier to push herself than think about him being gone. Her eyes were a deep brown, and her hair (long and wavy) was almost always pulled back in a bun.

Linda, on the other hand, was a short, ample chested woman with a shock of brilliant red hair, vivid blue eyes that looked like frozen water and was an even 15 years younger than Heather. She couldn’t guess why the younger woman had set her sights on Heather, but for whatever reason, she’d been pursuing her since Kyle’s death. At first she thought it was just a misguided attempt to cheer her up, but as the efforts persisted, the earnestness of the affection had made itself clear. When Heather had finally relented, Linda had actually danced in her office for joy. It made Heather smile, probably her first genuine smile at the time. Thinking back on the memory now made her smile still. She needed to get away, and even company she didn’t intend to keep long term was better than stewing in her empty cup of bitterness for yet another weekend.

She picked up her cellphone, and hit Linda’s contact icon to dial her cell. It rang twice before Linda picked up.

“Hello beautiful,” purred Linda. Her voice was hushed, and Heather wondered if she’d caught her in a meeting. Heather was a partner in the firm, while Linda was a much younger lawyer, still making her way through the ranks.

“Hello you,” Heather replied. She hated calling people by name when there was something personal between them. She always called Kyle “Big Bear”, because he’d been tall and thick, and hairy. Linda, well, she wasn’t sure what to call her. She didn’t really know how she honestly felt about her. So, it was ‘you’, for now. “Are you free tonight and the rest of the weekend?”

Linda’s smile could be heard through the phone. “I have plans - but they’ve just been cancelled.”

“Oh, if it’s a problem, I can wait,” Heather replied. Linda wasn’t, shouldn’t be at her beck and call. Not when it wasn’t really a serious relationship.

Undaunted, and refusing to allow Heather to back out of the offer, Linda laughed. “Oh no, I don’t care if the President, the Pope and Elvis had plans with me this weekend. All plans are off now! What did you want to do? And when can we start?”

Linda could sound professional when she needed to, but whenever she wanted to turn on the charm, her voice turned into a smooth, velvety purr that usually made men squirm in their seats. It was not without effect on Heather, and she began to play with her necklace, absently. Maybe this would be better than she thought. Heather’s own voice was always the same; an even tone, soft like a matron or a mother, but she could make it crisp and stern when she needed to be heard.

“Tonight. I want to take you to my cabin. How soon can you be ready to go and at the office?”

Linda’s reply was quick. “I have to run home, pack a few things. Can you wait an hour? Or shall we just get creative?”

Heather allowed herself a soft laugh. “Go home, crazy woman. I’ll wait for you. Just come straight in, I have a few things here myself.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” replied Linda with her distinct purr. She disconnected the call. Heather stared at the cell phone in her hand for a good minute. What was she doing? Was this really the right thing to be doing? What would Kyle say?

“He would ask if he could watch,” Heather said to herself. There was a knock at the door to her office, suddenly, and she dropped her cell on the floor. Cursing to herself, she knelt to pick up the cell, then strode to the office door. Rachel, her secretary, was gone home for the day at 5:00. Normally Heather didn’t need to be here, but for the past year or more she’d been spending most of her time at the office, or at the office gym on the third floor. That’s part of the reason she didn’t need to go home - she had a suitcase with many changes of clothes in her office, ready to go.

There was a courier at the door, with a sizeable box. He looked like most courier’s - young, bored and possibly stoned, an overgrown boy who hadn’t yet figured out how to call himself a man, and working to keep his diet of video games and pot on top of rent and groceries. The box in his hand was about the size of a microwave oven, and looked about as heavy as one too by the concealed exertion on the courier man’s face.

“Are you Mrs. Banks?” he asked, a grunt of effort poorly hidden. She nodded in response, and pointed at a side table for him to deposit the package. The courier, relieved, set the parcel down, then plucked his digital clipboard from atop the package and handed it to Heather. She looked over the manifest.

PERSONAL EFFECTS OF BRADLEY ESTATE, FOR H BANKS

Heather frowned, and singed. She didn’t deal in estate law, so this was confusion, and she certainly didn’t know anyone named Bradley. But she’d be able to figure out the specifics once she looked in the box. The courier thanked her and walked out, rubbing his back. Heather closed the door behind him, and looked at the box curiously. It was a standard delivery box, but obviously heavy. With a shrug she took her letter opener and broke the seal.

Inside the box, there was a manilla envelope, and several old looking books. They were leather bound volumes, cracking and each one tied with a different colour length of silk rope. The envelope also said “H Banks”, on a computer printed label. She returned to her desk and sat, opening up the package with growing curiosity. It was a will, as she expected, and based on the notes it was a copy of the will, likely circulating in some large estate case. The will made it plain where the mistake had happened. There was, apparently, another lawyer named Heather Banks, working in estate law, but rather than being in Chicago, like Heather, she was in Minneapolis. This package must have gone astray in the courier’s system, and someone had forwarded it onto the wrong Heather.

Pleasantly diverted from the anguish of memories of Kyle and the mediation of the afternoon, Heather opened her laptop and looked up Heather Banks in Minneapolis. She dialled the number, figuring that based on the time of night, no one would answer. To her surprise, the phone was picked up.

“Banks Office,” came a bored, female voice.

“Oh, hello! I was wondering if I could speak to Heather Banks about an urgent matter,” Heather replied.

“Can I ask who’s calling?” replied the voice.

“This is Heather Bank, a lawyer in Chicago. There’s been a parcel mix-up, and may have received a package intended for your office.”

The assistant, as Heather guessed, didn’t say anything, but instead transferred the phone. It rang once, then was picked up.

“Heather Banks speaking,” came an old, tired sounding woman. Heather hoped to god she didn’t sound like ‘Heather 2’.

“Good evening Heather. This is a bit odd, but my name is also Heather Banks, and I’m a lawyer as well, in Chicago. A courier just delivered me a package for the Bradley Estate.”

Heather 2 breathed an audible sigh of relief. “Oh thank God, it turned up. The Bradley’s have been panicking about that box, and those fools down at the courier office had no clue where it had gone to. What a stroke of luck it ended up with another lawyer!”

Heather laughed, understanding what a calamity this might seem to the Heather 2. “Well, Heather, I have to admit I’ve opened the package. There are five books within, and the envelope with the will. It was from that I figured out where the package belonged. How shall we get this to the rightful place?”

“Listen dear, do you have anyone you can trust to get that package to me tonight? I’ll pay for the delivery of course, but after this mess up, I don’t want to trust the delivery to a monkey in a suit!”

Heather looked at the box, and an idea struck her. She felt like being spontaneous, and a road trip sounded like a lot of fun.

“Actually, Heather, I was planning on heading up to my cottage this evening with a colleague. But we could bring it there ourselves, and visit Minneapolis. It’s about 6 hours or so, so we wouldn’t be able to drop it off until the morning -“

Heather 2 cut her off. “Dearie, if you can deliver it here tonight, even in the middle of the night, it would solve a massive problem for my practice. The Bradleys are furious, and they’ve been a client of mine since I opened this office. I’ll pay you for your time and the inconvenience, of course.”

Heather frowned. Clients who needed a package in the middle of the night? This was… weird. But, figuring this was part and parcel of spontaneous adventures, she agreed. Heather 2 gave the address of the office, and assured her that her assistant would be there to receive the package no matter what time of night it was. Considering how much of Heather’s time was being asked for, the thousand dollars Heather 2 was offering was not quite adequate, but Heather didn’t complain. It was a lot of money for a courier job, and it spoke more to what Heather was beginning to suspect.

When the call was done, Heather walked over to the box and began to gently take the books out. Heather 2 might be completely innocent in this equation, but she suspected that even the lawyer was in on something illegal. The entire affair sounded like there was something being smuggled in this box, and as a lawyer she had a duty to report anything suspicious like this. But also, she had to try and preserve her reputation. If the books looked like books, and there was nothing inherently strange about them, this could be chalked up to an irate client integral to another lawyer’s practice. Heather would be in the clear should something come up. She took out her cell and photographed each of the books, then the inside of the box, then the contents of the envelope.

The books, as she’d noted before, were all old. The leather was peeling and cracked, and while she was no judge of books and their lineage, they must be at least a hundred years old she thought. Around each one, a plain silk cord was tied, knotted on the opposite side of the spine. One was gold, another silver, black, red and purple. There were no titles on the books. Gently picking up the red-corded book, Heather weighed it in her hand. It was not abnormally heavy for a book it’s size - about the thickness of an old family bible. Each one weighed almost the same, except for the black bound book.

Heather smiled to herself. Gently, she undid the cord, and opened the book carefully. It would be hollowed out, of course, and the contraband in the hollow of the book. There was, as she suspected, a hollow in the book. But it was not exactly as she envisioned it. In her mind, there would have been drugs there, or possibly something else like jewels. But instead, the hollow contained a strange pendant. It was beautiful, a butterfly pendant that looked like it was made out of some kind of delicate crystal or many colours. Under the soft office lights, the crystal shone with an iridescent blue and purple, but other colours seemed to be hidden deeper in the crystal, hinted at in the reflections and edges. The shape of the butterfly was captured in a silver that seemed almost blue, impossibly fine. It was attached to a very simple leather cord. The page surrounding the hollow was also strange. Fine, inked writing five layers deep surrounded the permitter of the hollow in a curving, elaborate hand, but what the words said was beyond Heather’s guess. It was in a language she didn’t recognize, and there were strange accent marks she wasn’t familiar with.

In her mind, she knew she aught not touch this pendant at all. This was a prized family heirloom, certainly, and now the panic of the Bradley family made much more sense. But the beauty of the butterfly was so great, and Heather’s natural curiosity so strong, that she found herself picking it up before she even realized what she had done. It was light, much lighter than she expected, and she feared it would break if she handled it too much. Holding it in her palm, she was amazed how the light seem to shine through it, but almost stay within, illuminating the depths of the fine piece. Slowly, Heather tied the pendant around her neck, and looked down at it laying against her blouse. The crystal butterfly almost looked like it was glowing now!

It was glowing.

Heather fumbled with the cord, struggling to undo it as quickly as possible, while the glow in the pendant kept increasing. It wasn’t getting hot, like a lightbulb would, but there was a certain tension about the glow that Heather could feel building against her chest. The glow shot up from a dim lightbulb to a dazzling led, and kept increasing. Heather made a noise in her throat, but she was so afraid and confused, it was a voiceless exclamation more like a hiss than any cry. The cord came undone, and she let the butterfly drop to the floor.

It did not break, but the light seemed to burst free from it. Heather stumbled backwards, her high heel turning in her hasty retreat. She fell over, crashing to the floor, her eyes transfixed on the light that was now coalescing into a form. The being, or form, was human shaped, floating several feet off the floor. It seemed to be made of dazzling white light, and vaguely female in its curvature. Something like long, whispy hair trailed away from it, blowing in an unseen breeze. The only feature she could make out were the eyes. These were a deep blue, iridescent like the wings of the butterfly pendant, lacking either iris of pupil - orbs of solid light, but manifesting some strange and powerful intelligence. These orbs, the eyes, were locked on Heather.

“Free, at last,” said the being. Her voice, for it was feminine, was soft, and had a quality as if bells were being shaken softly with each word. It seemed to echo around the room, striking the ear from all angles.

Heather shuffled backwards, crab walking as best she could, kicking off her other heel. Her ankle throbbed, as did her ass, but she felt she must get away from the woman if possible. But the woman-being seemed to float closer to Heather as she backed off, and then with a sudden rush it was inches from her, floating like some kind of predator. She could not feel breath, or heat, but there was a presence to the being that made Heather’s skin tingle and itch. The mouth opened, a something like a mist surrounded Heather.

“Empty you are, lonely one. A broken heart and a lifetime of regrets. I am in your debt for freeing me, and will return one day to repay that debt.”

And with the final word, and the strange name of the being, the ghostly brightness withdrew from Heather, and out the window into the night. It did not break the window, but a strange glowing seemed to remain in the window as she passed. Outside the window, hovering in the air, the being turned, glaring in some kind of anger at the window, as if the act of passing through it had either harmed the woman. Whatever the case was, the being departed rapidly, fading into the city lights until she was lost from sight.

Remaining in the window, glowing, was a mass of energy, the same light as the strange being. It pulsed there for a long moment, then jumped in a snake-like stream of energy, cascading onto Heather’s desk to one small point. Within seconds, the energy was gone.

The office lights seemed dim, inadequate following that brightness. Slowly, with shaking knees, Heather rose to her feet, and approached her desk. It had her laptop, the files, letter opener, a small picture frame (a photo of her and Kyle displayed within), and her lucky charm - a pair of ornate dice from her last trip to Las Vegas. They were made of a clear crystal, inset with gold pips on one die, and silver on the other. The light from the window, she could see, was nestled somehow in the middle of them.

With a trembling hand, she reached and picked up the dice. Like the pendant before, there was no heat to them, but she could feel the gentlest tremor of power within. Not electric power, but the instinctual feeling of spiritual might that Heather could recognize in her soul. The voice of the being, suddenly, seemed to whisper forth from the dice, once more striking Heather’s ears from all angles.

“The power of your mirrors and glass has captured some part of myself. Each cast of these lots will release some of that power, to be returned to me, and in exchange, restore some of that which you have lost.”

Heather trembled, and half through a spasm, and somewhat because one simply rolls dice, she threw the dice onto her desk. They rolled, the gold coming up with a 4, and the silver a 2. There was a flash of the bright light that shot from the pips like sparks, and then Heather saw the sparks turn into a stream of light, shooting upwards and into the vents. At the same time, gossamer sparkles shimmered from Heather’s skin, drifting out of her pores like some kind of faerie sweat.

The being’s voice whispered in her ear.

“Fourty and five years you have walked free of your mothers womb. Now, this total is but thirty and nine. Each cast of the die will release more of my stolen power, and restore your lost youth.”

“What?!?” Heather said aloud, just as the door to her office opened and Linda walked in with a bag slung over her shoulder.

 

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