Note: If you are interested in the backstory between Sarah and Jack, read one of my other stories, The Passenger.
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The stage was lit only by candles, making it hard to see clearly the three figures onstage. A triangle of candles surrounded two women: one standing, the other kneeling, her hands cuffed behind her back.
There was just enough light to reveal that the kneeling woman wore a white robe, while her companion towered above her in a figure-hugging latex bodysuit and a masquerade mask.
Across the stage, a third silhouette stood away from them. A woman in a business suit, her hair worn up in a bun with a side sweep. She stood in the centre of a chalk circle, lit by four candles at the cardinal directions. Characters in Hebrew and words in Latin could be made out in chalk on the wood floor.
The seats in the theatre were empty, save for one occupant. A young woman in black jeans, Converse sneakers and a tight long-sleeve T-shirt in turquoise. She sat in the back row near the exit, holding a notepad and pen. The red tint of her hair was reflected by the light coming in from the foyer outside. It wasn't Sarah's job to see anything -- she was there to listen and take notes. Which was lucky, as she could hardly see anything.
The kneeling woman spoke from inside the triangle of candles.
"How long will this take? I told Kev I'd be back by nine, and I'm not sure he can deal with the kids on his own."
The kneeling woman was Kathy. She was short and a little thick around the hips, although this was concealed beneath a white robe. Her long, dark hair was thick and wavy. Sarah knew that besides the laughter lines, she looked youthful for a woman in her mid-forties.
The masked woman in latex was Jane, who was taller and leaner, although a bit older. Her hair was blonde, tied back in a severe look, and the latex suit was zipped down to reveal an impressive cleavage. She still had it as a woman pushing fifty. Sarah wondered if her tits would look as good in a bodysuit like that.
Jane had two main businesses. By day, she ran an art gallery near the sea front, selling the work of local photographers. By night, she was a dominatrix, with a healthy roster of returning clients. She was pretty open about this at the theatre group. The two worlds of sex work and local theatre overlapped in Jane to satisfy her passion for roleplay and costume.
"You know how this goes Kathleen," spoke the other woman from the circle nearby.
Gabriella was stood at a lectern in the circle. She always seemed to dress formally, in a grey suit, even in situations like this. Her height was somewhere between Kathy and Jane. She was half-Japanese, the daughter of a English businessman and a Japanese hotel receptionist in Tokyo. She was raised in London, privately educated, and her accent reflected this.
"It will take as long as it needs to. As always," said Gabriella. "Kevin can manage."
On the lectern was a book, open in front of her. It had a Latin title, that Sarah had forgotten as soon as Gabriella told her.
Sarah thought it was odd how she stood there with her hands clasped in front of her, like she was about to give a presentation to the board.
A lot of things about Gabriella were odd. Such as: what was someone like her doing in this shithole? She ran the theatre company, as well as a successful film production company. She had her fingers in many different pies, and an enviable investment portfolio. Why hadn't she gotten the hell out of Plymouth, like anyone else with money and sense?
Jane leant over Kathy, cradling her head in one hand with long, lacquered fingernails.
"You're the offering, remember?" said Jane. "Our demon friend Sapphiara likes them busty and submissive, and you fit the bill."
Sarah had never witnessed one of these rituals before, done after hours in the Citadel Theatre. Gabriella reserved this spectacle for the weird inner circle she had, recruited from her theatre company and various other places: occultists, people with psychic talents, and sexual deviants. She learned that there was a surprisingly large amount of people within that particular Venn diagram in Plymouth.
Gabriella had Jane in that "summoning triangle" to control whatever it was that they were calling up. She thought that Jane's years of experience as a dominatrix would make her fit for the role. If that was true, Sarah thought, then Jane and Kathy had taken S&M roleplay to a whole new level.
It was only that afternoon when Sarah was on that stage, doing a poor, stumbling performance of Ophelia in Hamlet. Gabriella had pulled her aside afterwards, and Sarah was apologetic.
"Never mind the performance," said Gabriella. "I think I know the problem. It's Jack, isn't it?"
"You know about Jack?"
"Word gets around, Sarah."
Which was true. She told everyone about this new guy she had been seeing, always updating them on the bars they went drinking in, the funny things he would say. It was fun, but she wasn't sure if their relationship was going to be serious.
Then one day, Jack didn't return her text messages. Sarah started to wonder if he was ghosting her.
Soon afterwards, she saw his face on her Twitter feed -- the local news had declared him missing. They used his Facebook profile image: that headshot with his crooked smile was probably the only picture of him available.
Gabriella asked about Jack: who he is, what he did for a living, how close they were.
Sarah didn't tell Gabriella that she met Jack after catching him perving at her through her bedroom window when she was changing. Or the fact that she got undressed before that window with the curtains open intentionally, the exhibitionist that she was. She didn't think it would reflect well on either of them. Although after meeting Gabriella's friends, she realized that it wouldn't have mattered.
Aside from Jack's voyeuristic inclinations, and taste for big tits like Sarah's, he was basically just another nondescript guy in a low income job, still struggling to make something of himself.
Sarah started to think that Gabriella was personally concerned about her wellbeing, until the conversation took a sudden turn for the surreal.
"Sarah. What do you know of the occult?"
"The occult?"
"Yes. Magic. Prophecy. Contacting angels, demons, the dead."
"Not a lot. It's fascinating though," Sarah conceded. "I"ve always wanted to attend a séance, or a ghost-hunt in a haunted house."
"I"m having a little get-together tonight," said Gabriella. "I would like you to come. I think you'd find it interesting, and we might be able to help you find Jack."
"How?"
Gabriella explained that this little get-together was a "divination ritual". This was no tarot card reading. They were summoning a demon, and bargaining with it for answers. Answers on a man called Gregor Davidovich, a local businessman and now a counsellor.
"We think he is behind a series of local disappearances," said Gabriella. "Have you noticed?"
"No."
"I have contacts in local media. Reports of people going missing have gone up sharply over the past year, none of them resolved. And there is no pattern -- both men and women, from various backgrounds. Jack might be one of them."
"Why Jack?"
"No idea," said Gabriella. "I can only speculate. We know that Gregor has some very dodgy business interests. We suspect that people trafficking might be among them. Possibly. We know he's paying off the police."
"People trafficking? You think Jack is being trafficked?"
Gabriella noticed the alarm on Sarah's face.
