Page 80 of Devil Inside

We stayed in my apartment for most of the morning, listening to records together. I can’t tell you the last time I’ve done that. Shared music with someone else. Given these songs over to another, a song they’ve never heard before—Listen to this one, and this one—experiencing the song through someone else. That vicarious feeling of the very first time.

You only get your first time once, right? Seeing Lilith react to the music, her body responding to each song, the melodies, the lyrics, drawing something out of her...cathartic.

“I’ve got an idea,” I said. “Let’s try something.”

“Somethingelse? How many ideas do you have?”

“What can I say? I’m feeling inspired...”

“What’ve you got in mind?”

“Ditch the body.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” I said. “I want to see if I can find you.”

“...How?”

Art is always an out-of-body experience. The best of it transports you. Takes you somewhere else, outside your own flesh.

As fate would have it, The Virginia Museum of Fine Artshas over 50,000 works of art from all over the world, right here in Richmond, ancient and modern, under one roof.

This spot always struck me as a solid date spot, so I figured...

Why not bring Lilith?

I just have to find her. Or she finds me. Whichever comes first. I wanted her to abandon her host because I want to see if I can sense her on her own, without a body.

The essence of her. The spirit. The demon.

Let the games begin...

I know she’s here, somewhere. I can feel her. Something elemental in the air.

A presence.

It’s like a beehive in here, humming with activity. It’s a Saturday, so the museum is exceptionally busy. A lot of hustle and bustle. Families wander through the various cavities of gallery space, drifting from one room to the next. The sheer number of people is staggering. Suffocating. I can feel that fingernail of anxiety pressing against my chest, jabbing at my lungs. It won’t be long before it’s a brick. I don’t know how long I can stay.

But I’m not giving up until I find her. Where is she? In whom?

Jordan doesn’t notice our new host. Why would he? He’s never met him before.

Or her. Or him. Chianti. Merlot. Chardonay.

He wants us to follow, so we go along. A fun game to play. We enter the museum right behind him, then slip ahead. Let him wonder where we are. See if he can spot us.

He likes to play games. So do we. The thrill of the hunt is here.

He rides even without his bike. He races, even now.

So do I. Let’s have some fun...

We drift among the art. So many people. So many fresh vessels. The jostle of onlookers gives us a river of flesh to flow through, from one body to the next.

There is so much to look at. To see.

We find ourselves taken by the ancient artifacts. The Syrianflask fashioned as a human head, blown out from molded brown glass, made in the first century A.D.