canisaries
you should've known the price of evil
aaaaaaaaAAAAAAAA freakin finally. After 6k words worth of outtakes and redos and then the 12k that made it in, Whelp is finally done. That's not to say it's in a rigid, finished state - I definitely want feedback and will try to implement critique if I can. Just... know that it might take a while, as I definitely need a break from this thing after working on it for so long.
For anyone who didn't read HIM but is possibly interested in this: you're in luck, as HIM is not required reading. It's just another story that's about young Red and HELIX's interactions, so I have these in the same thread. And, well... HIM still hasn't had the touch up I've been meaning to give it since getting the critique for it, as I've been busy with lots of other stuff such as this and uni. And I'll probably continue being busy for a while, let's be honest.
Anyway, don't go reading the story yet, I need to give some heads ups for content, cause boy do we have it:
- explicit gore, violence and cannibalism
- strong language
- implicit or explicit depiction of mature themes such as mental illness, mental abuse, manipulation, self-harm, teenage sexuality (only implicit), pedophilic undertones in a character's behavior?
how did i come to write this shit in a pokemon fic Well, that's all I have to say for now. Enjoy, and lemme know if something's too extreme or some other content tag needs to be added.
Fonz heads for the door, the little omanyte in his claws and a bag on his shoulder. It seems that the moment of departure has come.
I get up from the kitchen chair, the screech of its legs alerting the nidoking of my approach. He stops and smiles. The omanyte notices me and reaches His tentacles towards me. My chest warms up, and I grasp His arms with my fingers. His familiar touch, cold and wet and yet so lovely, nearly takes my speech away, but I know that if I don’t say something, I’ll regret it later.
“Are You all ready?” I ask Him.
“Yep!” He replies, His voice so pure and stare so innocent. He’s gotten used to school quite fast. Much faster than I have. I still feel uneasy knowing He’s going to a place where neither Fonz nor I will be watching over Him. But Fonz is right - both Him and I need this in the long run. He needs education to become His own mon, and I need to stop worrying about Him so much.
And for my plans today, it’s certainly better for Him not to be here.
I sigh and rub a tentacle of His gently with my thumb. “Have a good day, then. And be safe.”
“Have a good day at your school, too,” says Fonz to me. A brief frown only I can see tells me he really wants me to go today and stay the whole day, too. To set a good example, I suppose. I nod despite fully knowing I’ll be breaking that promise.
But the reason is not a petty one like laziness or frustration this time around. I have something very important to do.
“Well, You should get going,” I sigh and let go of His arms.
Fonz nods and opens the door. “See ya!” both say as They leave.
“See ya,” I reply, and the door closes.
Gradually, Fonz’s steps fade out. Silence fills the house.
Now the time has come.
The time to kill my first human being.
I step into the hidden room. The air is stuffy - naturally so, as the door has to stay closed as much as possible to keep up the facade of it still being out of use. While I keep the key well hidden, I don’t want anyone to get curious and start looking for it or asking questions. This place has got to stay hidden... and from this day on, more than ever.
With the door shut, so closes the silencing circuit marked on the walls. All sound trying to enter or leave is negated, bringing the silence to a whole new level, as now even the buzz of the hallway’s lamp is gone. But while pitch black silence is fun and all, I still need to see. I flick on the room’s own buzzing light and step deeper in.
As is tradition for these meetings, I undress. My body has changed a decent amount from what it was at the beginning of my training, but I know I still have a long way to go before I achieve the ideal physique for HIM. And speaking of HIM, I should be all set for the meeting. I finished arranging everything necessary yesterday, and a double check now confirms that. Now HE just needs to make HIS own check before I can really begin my test.
I walk up to the altar. A sheet of cloth covers the fossil, as it usually does to prevent accidental glances. I take a deep breath and let it out. I just hope I did everything right. I know that getting something wrong at this part isn’t technically that bad as I can simply try again, but the thought of HIM being disappointed in me… that’s an icicle straight through my heart.
Well, just waiting won’t get anything done. I grasp the sheet and, keeping my hands from jittering as much as I can, lift it off.
The spiral on the rock captures my vision. Everything else becomes irrelevant. Almost invisible. Like the warmth of one's home after an exhausting, freezing trek in a blizzard, HIS presence encircles me. I breathe it in like the most wonderful of aromas. A sigh of relief leaves me.
"My lord…" I speak. "Here I am."
HE greets me back. Then HE… wants me to turn around? Is there something there?
I turn around and --
Kohath.
Kohath is there, standing five steps away before me. His two meters of height and more barely fit within the room - the highest curls of his dark hair practically graze the ceiling.
I didn’t expect to meet him today. Why is HE taking his form?
Kohath smiles, making my heart jump. “It is a special occasion, is it not?”
Before any reply can leave my lips, the giant steps to me. His white robes, pure as fresh snow, flow as he moves, rippling against his awe-inspiring physique. His skin, like dark sand from the desert he once dwelled in, radiates warmth and life, so different from my pale Tohjoan hide. Small, deep brown curls form a short beard, carefully trimmed. The kind I would never be able to grow myself.
On his body, he carries golden jewelry equally glamorous as the last time I saw him. It gleams in the ceiling lamp’s light, second in brightness only to the most striking feature of the man - his wild yellow eyes.
The first Helixian king is a sight to marvel at. Even if he died thousands of years ago, and what I'm seeing is only an illusionary recreation by HIM… he's breathtaking.
"Walk further from the altar and stand up straight,” he orders, snapping me out of my daze. I comply and look away from him. He eyes my body up and down, studying it.
“I see you have been exercising faithfully,” he remarks, pleased, by the tone of his voice. It’s an injection of joy. My lungs breathe harder.
“But what is this?” he asks, reaching for a scar on my abdomen. His fingertips graze the skin, touch electrifying.
Shit. I forgot about the scar. I was in a bad place the other day. I wanted pain… I thought about HIS words, how HE had said scars weren’t a detriment to the body’s quality, so I carved that in. But I shouldn’t have done it, not without asking HIM. But I didn’t want to bother HIM, either...
“It is alright, Red.”
His words take the weight off my shoulders. My heart slows its gallop to a trot.
“What I said was true,” he continues. “Scars are marks of battle. However… I would prefer those battles to be external. When wrestling your mind, use the dagger only as a last resort.”
I nod. “Understood, my lord.” I dare to look back at him, though still avoid his eyes, opting for his body instead.
He's still as gorgeous as ever. His muscles are so well developed, yet the mass doesn’t lessen the grace of his form one bit. This body screams both power and agility. Those legs look like they could chase down a dodrio. His arms, like they could strangle a venusaur. Dark hairs rise from his chest, shins and forearms like flames feasting on bark. Yet, despite all this brute strength and rugged masculinity, his face is so beautiful. My fingers itch to caress it. HE truly developed him into the best a human could be…
Images flood my mind. Sounds, sensations. Everything imagined on the nights my thoughts break loose and explore what it would be like to have him right there, in the flesh, in my room, willing to…
"Red."
He spoke. He stares at me. Oh fuck. HE saw it all. Of course HE did, nothing I think is secret. I shouldn't have thought that. Not now and not before. I shouldn't have thoughts like that about a form of HIS. My corporeality is not an excuse, I'm a conscious soul --
"Worry not. I understand."
The weight of shame relents on my shoulders. HE understands?
Kohath blinks slowly, unaffected by my panic. "You are an animal. Your body encourages you to engage with suitable mates. And while two males cannot breed, lust is lust and all the same to me."
HE isn't angry… HE won't punish me.
"However," he says, and the word is a crack of a whip. "There are rules. You must stay in control of these thoughts. Do not have them distract or hinder you in your predation. Do you understand?"
"Yes, my lord." I say this and nod, but HE already knows it's not fully true.
"To elaborate," Kohath continues, "this means you cannot seek relations with others. Not even strictly physical, as it may prove too addicting. There are also diseases you may fall victim to, even with proper caution, and that is something I cannot afford in my future vessel."
Oh. So…
"Yes," he says. "I mean celibacy."
Celibacy. Right. I suppose it fits the position of priest.
So, no relationships and no sex. That can't be too hard. I’ve managed both just fine so far - well, at least the first, I don’t know if --
“It does not include another person, and thus, is allowed,” Kohath answers already. “Within reason, of course. Just as everything else.”
My face heating up, I nod. I suppose this is all good to know even if this conversation is getting wildly uncomfortable.
“In the end, however, I do not expect you to have much trouble with these rules,” Kohath says. “Especially after today’s ritual. You will have other things to ponder...”
He moves past me to what’s been placed beside the altar - a tray of logs and birch bark for tinder, a large metal bowl upon it and, beside it all, a pair of rapidash hooves, a white porcelain bowl and a gold-coated chalice decorated with intricate carvings.
“All is in order here,” he says, “except for one thing.”
What? What did I forget? I thought I had everything there!
He turns to me. I expect a scowl, an expression of disappointment to impale my heart, but… he’s smiling.
“Bring salt. For better flavor.”
Relief. He's never mentioned that before. It must be an optional ingredient, just something to enhance the experience.
“Tell me, Red,” he continues. “Are you excited to taste human flesh?”
“Well… the act is… interesting,” I reply, “but I don’t have high expectations for the flavor itself. It’s hard to imagine it being better than the farfetch’d YOU had me hunt.”
“Oh, yes. Farfetch’d is delicious. At least, that is what MY servants have told me… omastar do not have much of a sense of taste.” He steps closer. “But do not worry. In the end, I am certain you will enjoy the ritual thoroughly.”
I hope he’s right. I don’t want to ruin it. The worst case scenario would be my body rejecting the flesh entirely, making me unable to complete the ritual. I do consider being disgusted at the flesh very unlikely, but the blood…
I’ve tasted blood before, out of curiosity. It was bitter and sickening and my body screamed at me to spit it out. I figured that maybe it was an acquired taste and tried a few times again, but the reaction never changed.
I’m quite confident in being able to suppress my natural unwillingness during the ritual - it wouldn’t be much different from swallowing foul-tasting medicine - but I do fear the possibility of failure. And even with success, I expect it to sour part of the experience for me…
“That goes for the blood as well,” Kohath interrupts my thoughts. “You are far from the first servant to worry about your body rejecting the blood… but you would be the first to whom it would actually happen.”
He places a hand on my shoulder. “Trust ME. Trust the beast within yourself. You will love the ritual.”
If it’s about trust… “Then I will trust YOU with all my heart.”
Kohath grins. His pointed canines show.
He looks to my left, where the sacrificial board stands. Pleased with it, he walks around it, studying the rest of the room. "I see you have prepared the transportation circle… correctly, of course… are you confident that you will be able to remember the other half?"
"Yes, my lord." I've practiced enough times, and if I still forget, I've made a note to help me remember - and it's written in a way only I should be able to understand.
"Perfect." He returns to my half of the room. "All seems to be as it should. From this point on, I am unable to help. Save for the testing of her blood… it is up to you, Red."
I lock my dark eyes in his wild yellows. "I am prepared, my lord. I will not disappoint YOU."
He smiles one last time. "Good. Farewell for now, my priest."
"Farewell, my lord."
His form fades away. I can feel HIS presence withdraw, rush past me like wind. It all concentrates on the fossil, and then…
HE is gone.
The room feels colder now. Desolate. I already miss HIM… but I've got a job to do.
Time to get dressed and head out.
That takes care of the circle.
With shaking hands, I slip the chalk back into its container and drop the plastic box into my backpack. Eyeing the white circle on the asphalt before me, I make sure no detail was forgotten. While I'm confident in my recreation, I still take a final peek at my note to confirm it. Yes, it's correctly prepared. And, looking around… no one saw.
Even if they had, I do have a hood, beanie and scarf to obscure my face and hair as much as possible without appearing too suspicious - the same outfit I've had on for the whole time I've stalked her. I just need to make sure never to wear these without good reason after this.
Oh, Gods, my heart is giving my chest an absolute beatdown. I haven't even seen her yet and already I'm freaking out. I know I've already stalked her, and I know I've hunted wild mon, but this feels totally different! Just being in the same places as someone else isn't an immediate crime, and in the woods, the risk of some other civilian popping out of nowhere is slim. But here… the whole plan might go to shit just because someone happens to walk past at the same time she does. Either I notice in time, making me have to try the same thing tomorrow, or I notice too late and --
No, concentrate! Get on with the plan - prepare for the ambush!
I grab the bag and quickly shuffle away from the secluded apartment-side parking lot. The windows of the buildings are all either empty or covered with blinds or curtains, making this place less visible than it seems.
Sufficiently away, but not quite at my ambush spot yet, I dig out more equipment from my bag. First, headphones to put on my ears to make me seem preoccupied - even if I have nothing to plug it into, but an onlooker won't be able to tell. Second, a plain-looking rag. Third, a plastic flip-top vial of yellowish fluid.
These tools now readily available, I move to the ambush spot. It's a bench by the sidewalk, on the edge of a grassier patch where some oaks grow. This sidewalk is one that the target usually takes at this time, and one that isn't busy by a long shot. Of all the locations alongside her path, this seems to be the best.
I keep the vial and rag hidden within the pockets of my hoodie along with the cord of the headphones tucked in. A smartphone would likely be a far better cover, but… I have my reasons not to use one.
Alright. Breathe calmly, but stay vigilant. Even if I’m here well in time, she could arrive sooner than normal.
I watch as people occasionally pop in and out of view, casually strolling from one street to another. None of them has been the target yet. They’re just strangers passing by, going from wherever to wherever. Normal humans and mon. Walking, sometimes chatting on the phone or to each other. So careless. They have no idea that an abduction is soon to happen. No streak of worry in their thoughts, if they have thoughts at all.
This is boring, yes, but still far better than whatever I’d be doing in school right now, I bet. No arbitrary facts to memorize or teachers nagging about assignments or homework. I’ll do them if I do them, and I’ll do just enough to advance to the next grade so that I’m not stuck there forever. Though I’ll do more if what you have is actually interesting. Show you that I’m not a dumbass, I just don’t care. I’m not here to please you.
And then there are the other kids. Oh, the other kids. All of them chasing their own petty little goals. Looks, popularity, attention, grades, boyfriends, girlfriends… sure, you’ll need good grades to get into certain professions, but it’s obvious it’s more to impress their parents. Even teachers sometimes. And so it comes back to attention. So much they do just for the sake of looking good to others. A pointless goal.
I could certainly ignore them if it wasn’t for the fact that the most pathetic of the bunch have to come and get on my nerves. I’ll be there, just walking in the hallway, trying to get from point A to point B, and some piece of human filth decides it’s necessary to loudly ask me how my snail is doing. They only saw me with Him once, but clearly it was enough. Now I'm the snailfucker. But that's not where the entertainment ends. The snailfucker also has a phobia of screens, so it's really fun to flash him with them. He gets so angry. He punches and kicks and beats the shit out of the ones that do it, but it's still so funny. The bruises are worth it because he then gets dragged away to the principal's office so that he can be yelled at. The pain doesn't matter because pissing off the snailfucker is so funny. Everybody likes seeing it. Everyone thinks it's cool. It will make them like you, and if they like you, you're not the one being yelled at. Your insecurities stay secret and weaknesses unexploited. As long as you keep pushing other people under the bus, you won't have to admit how worthless you really are…
But… it doesn't have to be that way anymore.
The warmth that realization brings spreads throughout my body once again. Things really are going to change. I'm really gonna get my way out. And it'll be wonderful. I'll get to do anything I want, just the way I want. I'll get to right every wrong. Have things the way they should be. Feel content, happy, glad I exist.
All I need to do is keep serving HIM. Continue training myself. Hone my body and mind to become the perfect vessel for HIM to inhabit once HE has gathered enough power to do so. Then HE will create that form HE would have all those millennia ago had HIS kingdom not fallen. The form that will let US reach omnipotence… and then...
Hold on. Young woman approaching, long brown hair, that’s the target. And she’s alone. No one else is on the street. Okay, okay, get ready. Be ready.
Heart thumping in my ears, I suppress the twitching of my right leg. I wait with my head down, somewhat pretending to jam along to the imaginary music from my headphones. Maybe music could be calming in a situation like this. But it’d drown out an entire sense, and I can’t have that.
She’s a few meters away. She’s tapping on her phone, yes, wonderful! Old folks can complain all they want about us youngsters constantly being on them, it’s a golden distraction for me.
I open the vial and slowly pour the liquid onto the rag. I squeeze the rag lightly to spread the absorbed fluid further. The vial empties and I click it closed, not that it’s crucial to do right now.
The rag in my right fist, I watch her approach. I feel the ground beneath my feet. Two meters. Check the street, still empty. One meter.
She passes me.
I strike.
Though my face is stone as I briskly walk towards home, a storm rages inside my skull. The abduction keeps replaying, and the rumination won’t stop.
I leapt faster than she turned around. I covered her mouth with the rag before she could shield herself. Her phone fell to the asphalt, and she struggled in vain until the spores got to her. I checked my surroundings again, and no one was around.
I snagged her phone off the ground and carried her to the circle, still alone. Having set her within and drawn the activating line, transferring her to HIS room in a subtle flash, I cleaned the chalk away with my bottle of water and smashed the phone with my hammer. With that, the abduction part was over, and I started heading home. Everything had gone according to plan.
Except for one thing.
At the very beginning of that chain of events, as I first touched her, something happened. I felt something strange. It wasn’t there when I trapped wild mon - with them, I only felt the thrill of power, of seizing prey. It wasn’t there when I beat the shit out of the idiots at school. Their flesh didn’t give this response underneath my fingers.
But with her… I don't know. I felt dominion, yes, I always do, but there was something else beside it, and it stayed until I let go. A kind of… hesitance, and then… tranquility.
Had it been something sexual, it may not have been so surprising, but it wasn't. I know what sexual feels like, Kohath makes that obvious, but this woman didn't make that happen, just like no woman has...
No, I need to let this go. My brain probably just got confused because it found itself in a brand new scenario. Right now, it's time to focus on other things. I’m almost at my house and the preparations will soon continue.
I turn the corner, arriving at my front yard.
Gray car. Mom’s car. Parked in front of the house.
What the hell? Why is she home so early? It’s the middle of her workday!
My fists clench, but I force them open. This doesn’t ruin my plans. As long as she stays the hell out of the basement, I’ll be fine. I only need to use the shower and the seemingly-abandoned room. I’ll just tell her I’m working out and don’t want to be distracted.
And He and Fonz are still away, right? I don’t have to watch out for those two, and I don't have to worry about the additional effort He takes, as Him I absolutely must keep around and oblivious for HIS sake. Instead, I only have one person to hide my activities from. I can do that.
I reach the front door and enter the house. I spot my mother’s black hair at the couch before she turns to me. I look away. I don’t want her face to piss me off on this big day.
“Hey,” she says. Her tone mostly appears disinterested, but a hint of disapproval betrays her true feelings.
Let me guess, she's not a fan of me being home so early. Assumes I skipped school, and she'd be right. The real question is whether she's gonna bitch about it or not.
"Hey," I respond, hoping the conversation will end at that. I remove my shoes and almost throw off my backpack, but remember just in time that it wouldn't be very smart given the hammer within. Not to mention Mrs Swinub here might catch the scent of something off and come a-sniffing my tracks the moment I leave the room. I should at least take the bag upstairs to shove in some books and take out the tools. But I should be fast - if the target happened to wake up early, she could cause a lot of --
"Shouldn't you be at school?"
Ah, well, there goes the conversation continuing.
"It ended early," I say and head straight for the stairs. Not that it stops her.
"I know your schedule. It doesn't end early."
"Did today." Maybe that'll work, probably won't, who cares, I'm already halfway up. Luckily, she stays silent, at least for now. She might pick it back up after I return, though. Well, I'll need to speak to her again anyway to let her know I'll be busy in the basement. Hopefully she'll respect my privacy. Or just not bother to break it, really.
In my room, I replace the contents of my backpack as planned, and then it's back to the crossfire already. My foot has barely touched the floor when she kills whatever hope I had left of her leaving me alone.
"You can't keep skipping school."
Yes, I can. I've been able to do it so far and I'll be able to do it in the future. There's a clear minimum requirement for presence and I'm above it. I don't want myself to be held back a grade any more than you do. That would just mean I'd be stuck there for longer. There, that building, the whole education system, whichever.
"You'll never get anywhere if you keep going like this."
Her signature phrase. Looks like this has the potential to evolve into a full rant. I should probably cut this short before it does. I walk over to the door to the basement, grab the handle and --
"You can't just... keep being a lazy, irresponsible parasite!"
Wow, okay! What the hell got into her? I didn't expect that to escalate so quickly. Did something happen or --
Thunk.
Oh. I see.
Glass against the table. It was quiet, but I heard it, and I know what it means. You've got a glass of wine over there. And I'm willing to bet you have even more in your system.
"People have responsibilities, you know," she says. Now that I know to look for it, there's definitely a little slurring there. "Go to school, get a job, contribute to society. Pay the world back for what it's given to you. At least show some goddamn respect for the people that keep it running!"
What people? You? The bitch getting hammered before the sun's even hit its peak? Why aren't you working?
The cold metal digging into my palm suddenly makes me aware that there are several knives in the kitchen. Some sharp, some duller, but most absolutely sufficient for driving into the gut of a drunken hypocrite. Several times. Over and over. And then she'd shut up. No more yelling. No more asking me why I'm like this or why I can't be like the other kids. No more accusations of being lazy, insolent, not even trying. No more glaring lack of benefit of the doubt or even some kind of critical thought that would let you know that your son doesn't exist solely to fucking please you!
She sighs. I'm surprised I heard it, really, over my boiling blood and all.
"Why couldn't you just be normal?" she laments. I hear her pick up the glass again. The poor woman, reduced to drinking her woes away because her son didn't turn out exactly the way she wanted. She couldn't possibly try to work with what she got, no, it isn't perfect so better yell at it until it gets that way. Yeah, that's gonna work. The magmar will learn to swim.
Fuck this. I'm giving too much headspace to these pointless thoughts. It doesn't matter what she thinks of me as long as she keeps me fed and warm, and the law requires that she does. Right now, I have something more important on my plate. Time to put an end to this.
"I'm gonna work out in the basement for a while," I say quickly and slip in through the door. "Don't bother me. If you have to, knock and call before you-"
"Oh, work out for what? You're never gonna do any actual labor in your life!"
I slam the door shut behind me.
Once I've ascended, she'll get what's coming to her.
I find the target lying motionless on the transportation circle. I check her breathing and heartbeat. Both are just fine, but they alone don't prove no distortion occurred while she warped. For all I know, there could be an ongoing hemorrhage in her brain, only minutes from killing her. But that's really beyond anything I can help. As long as she stays alive and properly responsive for the ritual, it's a good enough condition for HIM.
Now to test something for my own sake, though. Being a mortal, I'm not immune to disease, and if I'm going to be ingesting her flesh and blood, they should be safe. I'd hate to get AIDS without even losing my virginity in return.
I fetch a knife - not the ritual knife, because I don’t want to clean it yet again - and pull back her sleeve. Such a thin wrist. Dainty. It's almost adorable. I grasp it in my hand. The fingers easily wrap around it. I feel her pulse again, and it's just as peaceful as the last time. What a lovely creature...
Aimi. That was her name. If I hadn't overheard it from her conversations, I wouldn't have anything to call her. She'd just be like any of the animals I've killed. But it’s good that she isn’t, right? This means that I’m really killing a human. One of my own kind. That’s what this test is about.
I take the edge of the knife to her wrist and slit. While it makes sense for her not to have flinched, it still feels a little odd - I’m used to only hurting conscious humans. Blood begins to leak out of the wound, fresh and vivid. It’s beautiful as always. I gather some onto the blade and bring it to the altar. I remove the fossil’s cover, and HE returns. HE waits silently for a drop to fall from the knife onto the stone, then withdraws for a few seconds to analyze.
Clean, HE tells my brain directly. I sigh out of relief, knowing this whole thing wasn't in vain.
HE leaves again. I clean the blood off the stone and cover it once more with the cloth. Alright. I guess it’s time for us to wash up, then.
Before that, however, I have to make sure my mother isn't in the basement. I carefully check through the keyhole, then by peeking my head out of the cracked door. There’s no sight or sound of her. Good, but for added security...
I get a broom and bring it to the top of the stairs, placing it to lean on the door. If my mother doesn't respect my plea for knocking or is simply too quick to open the door afterwards, the broom should come down with a good clatter. That's when I'll know to hide everything suspicious and then face the problem head-on.
I return to Aimi and begin to undress her. My touch still draws no reaction from her. She’s like a doll, really. I could dress her up in anything if I wanted to, but I’m a bit too busy for that. Not to mention the women’s clothes in this house all belong to my mother, and I don’t want to be reminded of her any more than I need to.
As her clothes keep piling up, I wonder what I should do with them afterwards. Feels like a waste to just dispose of them like her body, but I can’t sell them without leaving tracks… could I donate them anonymously? But how anonymous will that turn out to be once the investigation is launched? It’s likely just too much of a risk. So soon after the disappearance, anyway. Maybe I can hold on to them and sell them later… eh, I’ll think about it then.
Now the last piece of clothing is off. I lift Aimi by her knees and back, stagger upright and carefully make my way to the shower, balancing between strength to hold her up and precision not to trip on anything. Finally, I reach my destination and lay her down on the far end of the shower room. This was no worse than any workout, but I look forward to the warm water relaxing my skin nonetheless.
I undress myself and turn on the water. I step in - ahh, that’s good. That’s what I need. Streams finding paths off my limbs and back. Vapor spreading in the air. I can already feel my heartbeat slowing down. This is lovely. Oh, but time is limited… and Aimi’s purity is more important than mine.
I wash my skin and hair, and then it’s already the end of my turn. I dry myself off sufficiently enough and put on a shower cap, a raincoat and a pair of rubber gloves. If I had a mask too, I'd be like a surgeon. Well, fitting for what's to come, I guess…
I turn the water on again and drag the woman to the edge of its reach. I sit on my knees and prop her up against me, the raincoat crinkling.
With a bar of soap, I begin scrubbing her skin. The ever-streaming water washes away the emerging foam, dirt and dead tissue. Nothing seems particularly strange about this. I expected it to feel more odd, but it appears she's just another item to clean for me…
...until my hand hovers a little too long on her sternum.
I feel her heartbeat. I felt it before, but that was on her neck. Here on the chest, I'm so close to the organ itself… and my hand can't help but get closer.
I discard the bar of soap, just for a while, and press my palm against her chest. The pulse is so calm and slow. Peaceful. Even through the hotter water, I can feel her warmth, her breathing, her life. She's not just a doll, she's a living creature.
This feels so familiar and yet unfamiliar at the same time. I’ve had this feeling somewhere before, at least something very similar, but… I don’t think I’ve ever embraced anyone like this before. But I must have, right? My mother… she has to have held me before. She clearly doesn’t do it now, and I wouldn’t let her, but as a child, before she pushed me away… she must have.
But after that… have I ever even hugged anyone? Relatives, maybe, but those instances are required and the contact is quick and superficial. Friends? Never had ones close enough to consider hugging. Only acquaintances whom I would tolerate and be tolerated by.
So, for years… no, maybe my entire life, I've never been this close to another human being. So why does it still seem so --
Him.
I get it now. It's Him.
I was thinking of humans before, so it must've not crossed my mind. But this is all too close to what I have with Him. The delight of holding Him tight but gently. A desire to protect and appreciate.
I thought it was only because of the Voices. He was my rock in the storm and I grew so close to Him. The Voices let me do it, it was one of the few things they didn't stop. And they praised Him. In any other case, I would've hated to be told what to like, but with Him… I knew He fully deserved all that worship.
It remained after the journey was over. It's remained since. I thought it was something strange they'd done to my brain to make me capable of affection, though just for this one special case. Everyone else I've just wanted to stay away. They've had nothing to offer but derision and stupidity.
But now I have a human in my hands that I want to keep holding.
I wonder if there’d be someone out there that would want to hold me, too. Someone I could like, spend time with, get close to. That’d be very nice. It’d make my whole life better, even. I wouldn't have to cling to only Him. I would have more to appreciate, more to lean on when the world kicks me in the face. Maybe with a person like that, I could even --
Except I can't.
Celibacy.
Right. I can't get into a relationship. HE forbids it. I can't connect with another human being. Or even a mon. Outside Him, that is. My bond with Him is only beneficial in HIS eyes as it motivates me to take good care of an important asset. At least that connection I can have.
And it’s alright! I only need Him. Maybe I don’t even need Him. I know I’m going to ascend eventually. I’ll be one with HIM and everything will be perfect. A god decides exactly how he feels, and I’m going to feel amazing. Until then, I just have to manage. Stay alive and free and do as HE tells me. Then I’ll get everything I need. Unless I can’t do what HE tells me...
A horrible clatter freezes my body. Within a second, I remember my alarm system and thaw free. I need to act fast.
My mother's barely called my name when I've already put Aimi down, shut off the shower and opened the door. I remember my raincoat and gloves, throw them off and leap out.
"Why's this broom here?" her voice asks. I hear a step, but stop her from advancing any further by rushing up to the middle of the stairs, into her view. Thank the Gods these stairs have a turn. So much safer that way.
"In case you didn't knock," I reply, ignoring her flinch at my nudity. "And you didn't. What do you want?"
"Just a pizza," she grumbles and takes another step, but I raise a hand.
"I'll get it." Seeing her stopped, I withdraw and open the freezer.
"Mozzarella," she says.
"Yeah, yeah." I know your flavor, Mom, it's always the same. I bring her what she wants and watch her move away. I grab the broom and pull it back. She stops and gives a disapproving stare.
"It won't drop if you knock," I tell her. "I'll put it away when I come."
This is enough to make her relent and shut the door. I place back the broom and sigh. Bullet dodged.
Alright. I better get back to the shower and finish washing Aimi soon. I'll be safer again once we get behind the hidden door.
I think she's dry enough now.
For good measure, I ruffle Aimi's hair with the towel one last time before putting it away. Her hair is still wet and runs down in stringy clumps, but I doubt HE will mind. HE only needs her to be clean and healthy.
And on that note, I bandage the wound on her wrist. According to HIS orders, any wounds must be covered to give the impression of unbroken skin. To make her like a freshly picked fruit, ready to receive the first bite. That simile still makes me feel uneasy…
But there's no room for hesitance now. I have a ritual to perform.
I’ve already prepared the cooking equipment. I filled the bowl with cold water from the shower and moved the whole setup to the front of the altar for better accessibility and view. The tinder I set alight by striking together two hooves of a rapidash - a method said to produce hotter flames. I don’t know how true it is, but at least the resulting red tint of the fire is rather beautiful. I hope the little grate at the corner of the room is enough for ventilation… but not too much, as I don’t want my mother getting suspicious of the smell. If I’m lucky, though, she’ll just think I’m burning more candles.
While the water heats, there’s one last thing to take care of. The offering must be strapped to the board. Once that’s done and she starts waking up, HE too can be awakened… and the ritual can begin.
I hope the board won’t get damaged during the ritual. I did build it sturdy enough to hold a struggling human, just as HE instructed, but it’d be a shame to see all the polish wear away already. The carefully fitted planks, their sanded edges, the varnish to smoothen and preserve, the stand to keep the board steady and at a slight upward tilt. The straps are a bit modest, though, I’ll admit - just belts nailed on there - but this is still something I’d consider good enough to sell. It’s just a shame there isn’t a market for it. Or maybe there is, but it’s likely illegal and underground, and I shouldn’t get myself into a crowd like that. Too dangerous.
I drag Aimi to the board, prop her up against it and start fastening the straps. Arms, legs, wrists, ankles, neck, forehead. She stays up on her own, and the proportions match well. Good. I fetch a cloth from the table, a cloth for my own sake, to save the hunter's ears from screams too loud. I put it on her mouth and tie the ends behind her head. Finally, I step back.
There she is. All ready for death, consumption. This is what I'll be eating today. Human.
It’s so strange. These things, these creatures I see around myself every day, walking and talking, in my own reflection - I'm going to be killing one and eating part of it. They used to feel so untouchable. Rules and laws as protective barriers around them. Invisible armor. Only at school is it thin enough for me to dare break it. They almost expect boys to fight.
I place a hand on Aimi's chest. There's that heart beating again. It feels so nice, so warm and peaceful. I can touch it, and she doesn't swat me away. In a few minutes, she will be trying to, but won't succeed. I'll be able to get even closer to her heart. Though the ribs are in the way, and a knife isn't enough to get rid of those. I guess I won't get to see it. Shame. I'd like to know what it looks like on the flesh. The graphs don't tell enough.
What will I be doing to her, anyway? HE wasn't very specific about the approach. I think the only thing HE required was the gathering of enough blood and flesh for consumption. 'Enough' is vague, too. Maybe HE will tell me. Or maybe HE wants me to work it out for myself.
Regardless, I know it will be painful for her. And I know that's part of the point. She has to suffer so I can prove it doesn't affect me. A predator doesn't cry for its prey, HE said, and HE is correct.
I wonder what her body will look like after this is done. Pretty ripped up, probably. And I’ll have to cut her up further so she’ll comfortably fit in a bag I can dispose of in the way HE taught me. And sneak her past my mother. I’ll say it’s garbage. But she might ask more questions. She doesn’t exactly like to trust my word. Should I just wait until nighttime? The corpse would start to smell, right? That might be suspicious by itself. Maybe I should put her in a container of some kind, that would seal the stink. Eh, I don’t know. I could try carrying her a few pieces at a time in a smaller bag so that the size doesn’t quite strike my mother’s eye… you know what, that's really a problem for later. There’s a ritual to be done right now, I’ll sort things out afterwards.
I press my palm against her more strongly to feel a few final pulses of that diligent organ, then pull away. I remove my gloves and coat, throw them aside and walk to the altar. Basking in the fire's heat, I sit down and close my eyes.
Dammit, wait. I forgot the knife. I quickly retrieve it, place it on the floor near myself and resume my previous position.
Alright. Now I just have to wait. Everything is ready. I am ready. I was born ready, even. All my life has been leading up to this point and onwards from there. I was never meant to be just another human. That's become obvious by now. I'm a misfit in this world, and so, all I can do is make my own. And HIS power will allow for me to do just that. I just need to do what HE wants me to. And I should be able to. I sure hope I'm able to. If I'm not, I'll have to settle for this poor excuse of a life. That's why I have to succeed today. And time and time again - but if I can kill once, I should have no trouble doing it again.
For now, just relax. Calm your mind. Listen to that fire crackle. The water's hissing, too. Once I hear Aimi waking up, it's showtime. Though if that ends up taking too long, I have some smelling salts to speed things up. Spores don't work on a rigid schedule. No drug does, really, depends too much on the target. Either way, I should try to relax while I still have time. Just breathe. You know the lines. You have the equipment. You are a predator. You will make HIM proud.
Measured only by the quick beats of my heart, time passes. I think of nothing but the warmth on my legs and my breathing.
"Nh…"
Awake. I am awake, eyes open. All thoughts come at once. Turn head to check on Aimi? Go straight for the fossil, no time wasted? Wait for another noise for confirmation?
"Nn-nnhh…!"
My choice was made for me. Now I can get up - no, take the knife, now I can get up. I circle the cooking equipment and face the covered fossil. As soon as I remove the cloth, HE will be here, watching. No room for error. I must prove to HIM that I'm worthy.
Stop shaking. You know what you're doing. So do it! Show HIM how much you want this!
Almost with a rip, I yank the cloth away. HE is there. My mentor, my master, my god. And inside me, a fire roars, the fire to perform, succeed! Like a boulder loaded on a catapult, the words of the ritual rise to my tongue...
"Welcomed be You, Lord of Predators!"
It came out perfectly - or as perfectly as words of an ancient forgotten language can from the mouth of someone relatively new to it. The rah still gives me trouble, but it satisfies HIM for now, and that's all that matters. Continuing on...
"I offer onto YOU the bounty of my hunt."
A whimper. Aimi is realizing the situation she's in. It moves something inside me… but not in a bad way. I think I even liked it.
“Blood and flesh of a pure doe I bring. May YOU find pleasure in this feast. Under YOUR eye, I now prepare the prey.”
And those are the words! The first part is over. Now comes the real meat of the ritual. Literally.
I circle the fire, eyes on the porcelain bowl, my next objective. My heart pounds now for a completely different reason than before. There is no doubt. There is only delight, the delight of perfection. I reach the bowl, touch it, grab it. Against its smooth, white surface, I feel my own sweat. Same goes for the knife, I realize. But I’m not nervous, I’m just excited. Or it’s hot, there’s a fire, it could be hot. It doesn’t matter! I have to keep going!
I turn around to face Aimi. The offering. She isn’t anyone anymore. She’s flesh. Just an animal. I approach her. I approach the wriggling animal, staring into its wide, terrified eyes. It whines, knowing that pain is imminent, death surely close behind. What does she whine for? Who does she think will help? This stranger before her? He won't listen. He has no clothes on, holds a knife and a porcelain bowl and, just moments ago, and spoke ancient words to a simple rock. Surely a madman.
She likely knows. She knows there is no help coming, no escape, but that primal side of her drives her to try regardless. Cry out for help. Cry out for a mother, a packmate, a protector, caretaker…
In a flash, I see the exact wrong thing.
I saw round, teary eyes that pleaded me to help. Limbs stretched out for calming and comfort. A tiny creature in fear. Halfway retreated to His shell.
He wanted me, He needed me. He needed me to bring Him safety. Hold Him and guard Him. Make sure no harm comes.
A wet touch on my hand alerts me the knife is slipping away. I secure it in a grip tighter than ever before. Same for the bowl. Knife and bowl. I know what I'm meant to do with those. Cut her and gather her flesh. So I should.
I take another step. But I don't.
The joints have locked in place and the limb has tripled in weight. The will to move the leg is there, but the body rejects it, like the strain would seriously injure me. No, what I would approach would injure me. It thinks I'm trying to walk into a blazing inferno.
But why? What's keeping me from advancing? What makes me think something… something horrible is going to happen if I go on? Like something very important would be broken, irreversibly so? There's nothing irreversible about this. Well, there's her life, but her life doesn't matter to me, does it? And nothing will change with a kill. Or it will - it will make HIM proud of me, believe in me even more! And that only means more opportunities. I won't be losing anything! It won't put me down a path with no return. I could still quit any time. HE told me so. I could just return the fossil where I found it, along with everything else that was with HIM, and leave HIM to wait for someone else, someone worthy. I could resume my old life like nothing had happened.
Or… could I? Is this reaction trying to tell me that… something really would change? Something so drastic that it must be avoided like fire?
Lost, I try to find meaning in Aimi’s eyes. Still pleading. I don’t see Him. But I could see Him. Is that what it is? Will hurting her feel like I was hurting Him? Will I experience myself torturing the one I would never, ever torture and be haunted by that memory for the rest of my life? Is that the irreversibility?
Or will it be even worse? Will something that was completely hidden before reveal itself, some primal social instinct that makes the other humans unable to kill? Will I experience guilt? Will it eat away at my soul like it’s said to do, will it drive me to turn myself in, lock myself up for the rest of my life, override my sense of self-interest?
And that’s not the end of it. If I feel regret, it doesn’t even matter if I killed her or not. Regret is not for predators. It’s an instant rejection in HIS eyes. So not only would I suffer at the hands of my own brain, I would be locked to the miserable life of a mortal. No godhood. No escape, no freedom. Only an end.
My priest.
Oh Gods. HE has noticed.
You appear to have stopped.
Cold sweat emerges from my skin all around.
HIS voice is calm, neutral. No rage. But I know HE must be enraged.
What prevents you from stepping forth?
Doesn't HE know? HE must know. Whatever I think, HE should hear. But HE still asks. HE requested an answer. I should give it. But I don't even want to admit it. Do I have to say it if HE already knows?
If you cannot say it, I shall tell you myself.
HE raised HIS voice. Oh Gods, oh Gods, no, don't be angry. My fist tightens around the knife's handle as I brace for possible punishment. I see Aimi perplexed by my sudden fear, though her own hasn't diminished.
You are afraid of the possibility of failure, HE speaks. The mere possibility. That is foolishness. A test will always have a possibility of failure - it would be no test otherwise. Thus it serves no purpose to fear that. It is inevitable.
But this test isn't.
No, don't think that, you'll make HIM --
This test does not seem inevitable to you?
No, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to talk back --
You believe there is an alternative for you?
Well, i-it appears so. I'm sorry. But I just… it doesn't make sense to me - that so many people would be content with their mortality, find happiness without divine powers, and that I would be the sole exception to whom it's impossible. I know I'm different in many ways, but there are others that are different, too, and they still seem to find their own ways --
They do not. Do not be fooled. They suffer just as you do. Only MY divinity can free them.
It would be so easy, so relieving to just accept what HE says as fact. It would free me from doubt and bring me delight knowing I've pleased HIM. But there's a part of me, my identity, my individuality, that refuses to cave in. That stubborn, stubborn part. It's what makes me a misfit in the first place.
Before my fear can cover its mouth, it speaks a name - Kohath. And its echo continues even after it's silenced.
Kohath was content. That is what the scriptures say. That is what HE agrees with. Kohath was content and so were all Helixians, yet they were mortals just like me.
I can feel HE is about to respond.
They lived in a different world, my priest. A kingdom all to themselves, designed by ME. Of course they were content - they were free.
HE speaks with words. HE speaks truths. These feed the individual. Fear subsides, if only slightly.
But you are not free, and your shackles are too strong for you to break. You could never escape to the wilds like Kohath did, you could never form your own clan and build your own kingdom. Nations have grown too powerful, too vigilant to let that happen. They would track you down and drag you back into their civilization. Force you to file away your fangs. Deny your true nature. In that world, there is no happiness for you, and only through ME can you rectify it.
HIS words make sense. HIS conclusions are logical. The individual can't argue. Does that make HIM correct? The individual doubts. But he can't say why he doubts or what he doubts. Does that make him wrong? Should I accept HIS words as fact? I want to. This is tiring. I want to be relieved, I want pleasure, success. I want to let HIM cover my mind like a warm, soft blanket. Things would be so clear. While that individual, he's still trying to unravel the argument like a moth emerged from its cocoon unfolds its wings… just let go…
...let go? Let go? No, you can't let go. Your mind must be yours alone. Don't you see what's happening? You're losing your free will. And you need that to keep yourself safe! You need to doubt. You need to hesitate. Weigh your options. You can't blindly go where HE tells you to! Maybe HE doesn't know the right way for you! Maybe HE is purposefully leading you astray! HE could be only using y-
No, what are you doing? HE can hear it all! Don't think like that around HIM! But it's already too late, isn't it? The god has heard me, and HE will take my mind by force! HE will remove my capacity to argue back and make me HIS slave! What will HE make me do? How miserable will HE make me through HIS pursuit of whatever it is HE seeks?
I feel the floor against my knees - I must have collapsed. I free my hands to grab my head and draw to a ball. I have to beg. I have to beg for mercy, forgiveness, another chance. There is no escaping this slavery, but if I'm good and obedient, it won't hurt as much --
"Red."
Flinch. Something warm touches my back.
I would be terrified, but I know that voice, and that touch seems familiar, too. It's gentle. Both are gentle. I've dreamed of gentleness from that person.
"I will not hurt you."
Gradually, my trembling subsides. I hear things beyond the blood in my ears. The crackling of fire, the sizzling of water, quiet sniffling from Aimi. I'm back in reality… but the one touching my back, he shouldn't be real, should he?
I unravel my position, sitting up. I look behind me. There he is, Kohath.
He sits on the floor just like me. His golden eyes have… compassion. I've never seen it before.
“It is not my will to force anything upon you,” he says. “Not actions nor thoughts.”
HE… won’t force me? HE won’t punish me for rejecting HIS thoughts?
Kohath nods. “Correct. It is as I have previously said - you may choose to leave at any time. I would only ask of you then to return all that you found in Mt. Moon to its former place and let me continue to wait for another priest in peace. Nothing more.”
His gaze turns stern. “However, I am honest in saying I do not foresee contentment for you if you turn from this path. I have watched humans for many years. Humans like you, Red. Predators. I know a world led by prey is misery for your kind. And I know how terrifying mortality can be…”
He moves - I wince, but soon see there’s no need to be startled as he simply offers a hand.
“If you were to stay, it would greatly benefit us both,” he continues. “I would find the one I have awaited for millennia, the one to restore my power, and you… you would get all that you could ever dream of, and so much more. All of reality fully malleable. The joys you would experience… no mortal words can even describe them.”
A smile has crept on his face. It’s almost like Kohath himself was enjoying the thoughts HE is invoking, regardless of being only an illusion.
HE has told me this before. It’s why I chose to serve HIM to begin with. The power to do anything. I could rise above the entire world and order it to bow at my feet. Locate the ones that are making my life hell and tear them to bloody shreds without even lifting a finger. Banish any fear or frustration from my mind, make myself into whatever I want to be. Exist in unquestionable bliss, completely free from any mortal worries. Finally rest.
I want that. I want to ascend. I don’t want to be trapped in a miserable life, on a conveyor belt headed for the end of my existence, the unknown that the human mind can’t even comprehend.
But does it have to be miserable? Is it really that impossible for me to be happy in this world? I still have moments of joy. Basking in the sun on a warm spring morning, seeing little birds flit and hop about in the trees. Learning new things from books in the library while enjoying a fresh muffin from its café. Holding Him in my lap while He watches a movie, softly stroking His shell and knowing He likes it.
But even if I’m happy, I’ll still die. Could I really ignore that fact for a lifetime, focus on how I’m still alive, keep going until the very end and pass away like an animal unable to understand that it’s guaranteed to die one day? Or would the fear of it keep gnawing at my heart, souring any joys I could be experiencing?
“Red, please,” Kohath says, offering his hand further. “At least let me help you up. It will not bind you to anything.”
Right. I suppose it’s pretty rude to ignore him like this… even if I end up not staying, HE has still given me a lot. Training, knowledge. I should at least be polite to show my gratitude.
I place a hand onto Kohath's. He grips it firmly. His skin is warm and dry, the opposite of my cold sweat, but he doesn't flinch. Well, he's just an illusion, so I guess it makes sense, but somehow, it's still assuring.
With his lead, I get back onto my feet. Both of us upright, I realize again how tall he is. How graciously he stands. This beautiful, beautiful man. Even through the hell my heart is braving from this hurricane of emotions, I can feel it pound a little harder.
HE could make me like that, too. A masterpiece of flesh.
"Now," he begins, letting go of my hand and walking past me. I'm confused until I remember the situation and see him gather the knife and bowl. The latter doesn't seem to have broken from being thrown off. That's good…
He hands the items to me. "We shall resume the test," he says. "Its result shall be the answer you give me."
Result, answer. To leave HIM, I refuse to continue, and to stay…
I turn to the woman on the board. She flinches and whines. I remember again what made me hesitate the first time - the fear of guilt. The fear of seeing Him when I hurt her… that wasn't solved, was it. Was anything solved?
"Red," Kohath says, and I feel him place a hand on my shoulder. His tone is soft. "I must let you know that I see much potential in you. You have been a wonderful servant thus far, and my training has evolved your body and mind at a very fast rate…"
He leans closer. His chest touches my back, and his breath warms my ear. It shuts down all my motions. My body now only concentrates on his words, his deep whisper...
"It would be a great shame to see you leave without even attempting this test, simply because you fear its possible consequences."
He's right. I want to try it, but that something deep inside tells me it could ruin my life…
"That is why I will give you this promise," he continues. "I do not expect its condition to be filled, but… should you feel regret from killing her, regret that would last a lifetime… I promise to make you forget."
The dark clouds above my heart vanish.
He would make me forget?
"Yes," he whispers. "As soon as you finished disposing of her body, I would wipe the memory of this from your mind. You would return me to the mountain to seek another priest, and you would continue to live your life as it was before - with a little piece of my stony home to allow your omanyte friend to keep resurrecting, of course. It would be like you had never even met this woman. No memory, no regret. No lives ruined.”
But what if I --
“I would keep you stable. You would not turn yourself in - I would not allow you to do that to yourself. It would be inconvenient for me as well, after all. I need my houndoom to stay hidden from mareep eyes.”
This… this changes everything.
I focus on Aimi again. Any pain I’d possibly feel from hurting her would be temporary. It would be gone within less than a day. Just a few hours. Maybe even less if I’m quick in erasing the evidence.
That I can do.
The cold on my skin begins to subside. Something within is warming me up. I recognize it - it’s the flame from before. The excitement. The thrill.
I squeeze the handle of the knife. Yes, I have the power in my hand. The claw and fang. I can cut right through that invisible barrier that she thought would protect her. And HE, here in Kohath’s form, will witness it. HE will be pleased. I will serve HIM.
I walk up to her - finally, I can walk freely, the fear is gone! She cowers, she whimpers, but I have no pity, no mercy!
I raise the knife, a firm and confident grip on its handle. This is happening. Finally. I'll slice her belly open! It won't be the spot for meat, but it'll show me what's inside. It'll reduce her to the animal she is. It'll bring out the animal in me!
With one decisive motion, I slash across her abdomen and --
What am I doing?
What am I doing? I’m killing a person! I’m committing murder, one of the worst crimes in society. They’re gonna find out. They’re gonna bust in through the door and point guns at me. They’ll shoot me on the spot or lock me up forever. They’ll never forgive me. And He - what’s He gonna think? He’s never gonna let me near Him again. Not that they would, either. I’ll rot in a cell. Forever, until death. I’m gonna die. And I’ll die miserable.
What have I done? She’s gonna die… even if she won’t die, she’ll tell. Even if she won’t tell, they’ll see her scar and they’ll look into it and they’ll follow the thread until they find me and --
The picture changes.
I’m no longer looking at a featureless groove on her pale skin, a path of motion. Color is crawling out. Red. Vivid. Droplets forming, submitting to gravity, sliding down. Colors of sunrise in their trail. Silent while the woman screeches.
The wound grows wider as her breathing tears it apart. Gaping. More red. Torn flesh. Blood. Fresh, sparkling blood, glowing -- vibrant blood, I, I...
I want it.
More. More. More. More. More…
I squeeze. There’s not much. There’s very little. It’s run out. I wish there were more, like there was at the start, there was so much, but now it’s empty -- I bite, but there’s still so little, dammit, I need more!
I rip at the organ with my teeth, but I just taste my own gums. This is scraps. I throw it away. It plops down somewhere, empty, meaty. But it’s too stringy to eat. Without cooking. But I don’t want it now, now I want blood, more blood. Her body has to have it.
I lunge at the woman. There’s a pool of red fluid inside her torso. I almost dig in, but remember to sniff. Oh, eugh, that’s not good. This blood isn’t pure. It smells bad, it must taste bad. But there’s a lot of it. Why did it have to mix with the bad fluid? Ruined…
Where to go for more blood? I lick the edges of her wounds while I decide. Mm, good. But I want more and faster. But I drank at all from the heart. That’s the blood organ. There was a lot of blood. Where else is blood?
“Red.”
That… who…
Oh, Kohath.
Does he want some too?
Touch. I feel a touch on my back. Weird. Feels weird. I think he wants me to move. I’ll do it, but I better get back soon…
I draw myself away from the body and turn around. Light kind of hurts my eyes. It’s blurry. Kohath is there, I think. I can’t see right, but it’s probably Kohath. What does he want?
“I am glad to see you enjoying the offering,” he says, face gradually sharpening, “but I would like you to resume the ritual now.”
Ritual? Ritual…
Ah, yes. There was a ritual… this is a ritual… what was I doing… what was the next step…
...what am I doing now, anyway?
I pause to catch my breath, not even having noticed it running away from me. The air tastes… weird. No, the air is normal. What’s inside feels weird. I’m going from weird to normal and for weird, that’s weird…
...This is a ritual, yes. The last thing I did was strike at her, and then I was supposed to gather the blood in the chalice… but I kind of just went for it directly. I latched onto her, and I sucked out what I could, like a whelp on its mother's teat…
Why did I do that? I thought blood tasted bad. Why did I want that so much and even more, wanted enough to tear through more of her with the knife to finally get to the heart and…
This is so weird…
I lick my teeth. I rinse my mouth with saliva and swallow. I guess this doesn't taste bad…
A noise. Porcelain against the floor. Kohath picks up the white bowl. Right, that bowl. Right, the flesh. I should do that thing.
I pick up the knife, and Kohath hands me the bowl. Uh, I guess the biggest muscles are in the leg? I should cut there. I stick the blade in right below the strap on the thigh. It sinks with a squish. Some more blood drips out. It looks good. But no, I just had plenty. I cut off a few chunks and gather them in the bowl. Would this be enough?
"You have filled yourself somewhat with all that blood already," Kohath says. "It shall do."
I nod and stagger to the fire. The water is bubbling hard. I drop in the chunks of meat, recoil to avoid being scalded and finally sit down, setting the items on the floor.
A chuckle comes from behind. I look. It's Kohath, though I could've figured that out anyway.
He grins, showing his sharp canines. "Did I not tell you that you would love the ritual?"
I… guess he did, yeah. But I didn’t expect it to go like this…
His footsteps circle around me, and he stops by the fire. “Well done, my priest. You have passed the test.”
The test…
I look over to the body. Its abdomen and other thigh have been torn open and their surroundings smeared with red. Messy brown hair falls upon a frozen face. A bandana wraps around the chin, apparently having slipped. Everything is limp, drooped - but the eyes aren't fully closed, only partway. What's beneath stares at something far away.
She's dead. And I killed her.
And I think I like that.
“You can rest easy now,” Kohath continues. “No longer will you have to ponder whether or not you truly are a predator.”
What will happen to her now, though? I think I need to get rid of the body… yeah, I do - HE taught me how in advance. I’ll just take her to the woods and use a disintegration circle. It’ll reduce her to nothing, nothing will be left behind…
But that doesn’t really feel right. I don’t want to erase her completely. I want to keep at least a part. Her head? No, how would I preserve that, I have no jars that big… what other part would keep her identity, represent her soul?
Her heart! Oh, but… I tore that thing apart. It’s in no presentable shape. It’s broken and dead, just like her body is now. What else… what else would be intimate about her, central to her existence, agency…
Some part of her head? An eye? No, there are two of those, two is divisive… there’s only one nose, but a nose would just be silly… a mouth can’t just be detached, though teeth could, but there’s so many of those and the same set doesn’t even stick with us humans for our whole life… it’d be a pain to yank each one out, too…
But what about the tongue?
The tongue… that’s pretty intimate. It’s kept to oneself, hidden behind the lips and teeth, but in no way is it passive - it gives us our speech. Our words. Our words are our thoughts, and our thoughts are our soul. It’s perfect. Well, not as perfect as her heart would be, but it’s the next best thing.
It’s not going anywhere, though, so I can wait until the ritual is over to get it. And then figure out how I’m gonna keep it from going bad while I try to get my hands on an actual preservative. Maybe I’ll freeze it. Wrap it in some foil, hide it at the bottom of the freezer so my mom can’t find it. Gods, imagine if she did. Tongue in the freezer…
I hear Kohath chuckle again. Is it because of my thoughts or something else? I turn to him with a confused look.
He smiles. “I simply realized… you forgot the salt.”
I stare into his golden eyes for a few seconds, not understanding what he meant. Then my lips, too, drag to a smile, and I laugh.
I guess I did.
For anyone who didn't read HIM but is possibly interested in this: you're in luck, as HIM is not required reading. It's just another story that's about young Red and HELIX's interactions, so I have these in the same thread. And, well... HIM still hasn't had the touch up I've been meaning to give it since getting the critique for it, as I've been busy with lots of other stuff such as this and uni. And I'll probably continue being busy for a while, let's be honest.
Anyway, don't go reading the story yet, I need to give some heads ups for content, cause boy do we have it:
- explicit gore, violence and cannibalism
- strong language
- implicit or explicit depiction of mature themes such as mental illness, mental abuse, manipulation, self-harm, teenage sexuality (only implicit), pedophilic undertones in a character's behavior?
- - -
WHELP
Synopsis: A few months after the events of HIM, Red prepares to perform his first ritual murder. He wants nothing more than to succeed and prove himself a proper Helixian.... until strange doubts begin to emerge.
- - -
WHELP
Synopsis: A few months after the events of HIM, Red prepares to perform his first ritual murder. He wants nothing more than to succeed and prove himself a proper Helixian.... until strange doubts begin to emerge.
- - -
Fonz heads for the door, the little omanyte in his claws and a bag on his shoulder. It seems that the moment of departure has come.
I get up from the kitchen chair, the screech of its legs alerting the nidoking of my approach. He stops and smiles. The omanyte notices me and reaches His tentacles towards me. My chest warms up, and I grasp His arms with my fingers. His familiar touch, cold and wet and yet so lovely, nearly takes my speech away, but I know that if I don’t say something, I’ll regret it later.
“Are You all ready?” I ask Him.
“Yep!” He replies, His voice so pure and stare so innocent. He’s gotten used to school quite fast. Much faster than I have. I still feel uneasy knowing He’s going to a place where neither Fonz nor I will be watching over Him. But Fonz is right - both Him and I need this in the long run. He needs education to become His own mon, and I need to stop worrying about Him so much.
And for my plans today, it’s certainly better for Him not to be here.
I sigh and rub a tentacle of His gently with my thumb. “Have a good day, then. And be safe.”
“Have a good day at your school, too,” says Fonz to me. A brief frown only I can see tells me he really wants me to go today and stay the whole day, too. To set a good example, I suppose. I nod despite fully knowing I’ll be breaking that promise.
But the reason is not a petty one like laziness or frustration this time around. I have something very important to do.
“Well, You should get going,” I sigh and let go of His arms.
Fonz nods and opens the door. “See ya!” both say as They leave.
“See ya,” I reply, and the door closes.
Gradually, Fonz’s steps fade out. Silence fills the house.
Now the time has come.
The time to kill my first human being.
- - -
I step into the hidden room. The air is stuffy - naturally so, as the door has to stay closed as much as possible to keep up the facade of it still being out of use. While I keep the key well hidden, I don’t want anyone to get curious and start looking for it or asking questions. This place has got to stay hidden... and from this day on, more than ever.
With the door shut, so closes the silencing circuit marked on the walls. All sound trying to enter or leave is negated, bringing the silence to a whole new level, as now even the buzz of the hallway’s lamp is gone. But while pitch black silence is fun and all, I still need to see. I flick on the room’s own buzzing light and step deeper in.
As is tradition for these meetings, I undress. My body has changed a decent amount from what it was at the beginning of my training, but I know I still have a long way to go before I achieve the ideal physique for HIM. And speaking of HIM, I should be all set for the meeting. I finished arranging everything necessary yesterday, and a double check now confirms that. Now HE just needs to make HIS own check before I can really begin my test.
I walk up to the altar. A sheet of cloth covers the fossil, as it usually does to prevent accidental glances. I take a deep breath and let it out. I just hope I did everything right. I know that getting something wrong at this part isn’t technically that bad as I can simply try again, but the thought of HIM being disappointed in me… that’s an icicle straight through my heart.
Well, just waiting won’t get anything done. I grasp the sheet and, keeping my hands from jittering as much as I can, lift it off.
The spiral on the rock captures my vision. Everything else becomes irrelevant. Almost invisible. Like the warmth of one's home after an exhausting, freezing trek in a blizzard, HIS presence encircles me. I breathe it in like the most wonderful of aromas. A sigh of relief leaves me.
"My lord…" I speak. "Here I am."
HE greets me back. Then HE… wants me to turn around? Is there something there?
I turn around and --
Kohath.
Kohath is there, standing five steps away before me. His two meters of height and more barely fit within the room - the highest curls of his dark hair practically graze the ceiling.
I didn’t expect to meet him today. Why is HE taking his form?
Kohath smiles, making my heart jump. “It is a special occasion, is it not?”
Before any reply can leave my lips, the giant steps to me. His white robes, pure as fresh snow, flow as he moves, rippling against his awe-inspiring physique. His skin, like dark sand from the desert he once dwelled in, radiates warmth and life, so different from my pale Tohjoan hide. Small, deep brown curls form a short beard, carefully trimmed. The kind I would never be able to grow myself.
On his body, he carries golden jewelry equally glamorous as the last time I saw him. It gleams in the ceiling lamp’s light, second in brightness only to the most striking feature of the man - his wild yellow eyes.
The first Helixian king is a sight to marvel at. Even if he died thousands of years ago, and what I'm seeing is only an illusionary recreation by HIM… he's breathtaking.
"Walk further from the altar and stand up straight,” he orders, snapping me out of my daze. I comply and look away from him. He eyes my body up and down, studying it.
“I see you have been exercising faithfully,” he remarks, pleased, by the tone of his voice. It’s an injection of joy. My lungs breathe harder.
“But what is this?” he asks, reaching for a scar on my abdomen. His fingertips graze the skin, touch electrifying.
Shit. I forgot about the scar. I was in a bad place the other day. I wanted pain… I thought about HIS words, how HE had said scars weren’t a detriment to the body’s quality, so I carved that in. But I shouldn’t have done it, not without asking HIM. But I didn’t want to bother HIM, either...
“It is alright, Red.”
His words take the weight off my shoulders. My heart slows its gallop to a trot.
“What I said was true,” he continues. “Scars are marks of battle. However… I would prefer those battles to be external. When wrestling your mind, use the dagger only as a last resort.”
I nod. “Understood, my lord.” I dare to look back at him, though still avoid his eyes, opting for his body instead.
He's still as gorgeous as ever. His muscles are so well developed, yet the mass doesn’t lessen the grace of his form one bit. This body screams both power and agility. Those legs look like they could chase down a dodrio. His arms, like they could strangle a venusaur. Dark hairs rise from his chest, shins and forearms like flames feasting on bark. Yet, despite all this brute strength and rugged masculinity, his face is so beautiful. My fingers itch to caress it. HE truly developed him into the best a human could be…
Images flood my mind. Sounds, sensations. Everything imagined on the nights my thoughts break loose and explore what it would be like to have him right there, in the flesh, in my room, willing to…
"Red."
He spoke. He stares at me. Oh fuck. HE saw it all. Of course HE did, nothing I think is secret. I shouldn't have thought that. Not now and not before. I shouldn't have thoughts like that about a form of HIS. My corporeality is not an excuse, I'm a conscious soul --
"Worry not. I understand."
The weight of shame relents on my shoulders. HE understands?
Kohath blinks slowly, unaffected by my panic. "You are an animal. Your body encourages you to engage with suitable mates. And while two males cannot breed, lust is lust and all the same to me."
HE isn't angry… HE won't punish me.
"However," he says, and the word is a crack of a whip. "There are rules. You must stay in control of these thoughts. Do not have them distract or hinder you in your predation. Do you understand?"
"Yes, my lord." I say this and nod, but HE already knows it's not fully true.
"To elaborate," Kohath continues, "this means you cannot seek relations with others. Not even strictly physical, as it may prove too addicting. There are also diseases you may fall victim to, even with proper caution, and that is something I cannot afford in my future vessel."
Oh. So…
"Yes," he says. "I mean celibacy."
Celibacy. Right. I suppose it fits the position of priest.
So, no relationships and no sex. That can't be too hard. I’ve managed both just fine so far - well, at least the first, I don’t know if --
“It does not include another person, and thus, is allowed,” Kohath answers already. “Within reason, of course. Just as everything else.”
My face heating up, I nod. I suppose this is all good to know even if this conversation is getting wildly uncomfortable.
“In the end, however, I do not expect you to have much trouble with these rules,” Kohath says. “Especially after today’s ritual. You will have other things to ponder...”
He moves past me to what’s been placed beside the altar - a tray of logs and birch bark for tinder, a large metal bowl upon it and, beside it all, a pair of rapidash hooves, a white porcelain bowl and a gold-coated chalice decorated with intricate carvings.
“All is in order here,” he says, “except for one thing.”
What? What did I forget? I thought I had everything there!
He turns to me. I expect a scowl, an expression of disappointment to impale my heart, but… he’s smiling.
“Bring salt. For better flavor.”
Relief. He's never mentioned that before. It must be an optional ingredient, just something to enhance the experience.
“Tell me, Red,” he continues. “Are you excited to taste human flesh?”
“Well… the act is… interesting,” I reply, “but I don’t have high expectations for the flavor itself. It’s hard to imagine it being better than the farfetch’d YOU had me hunt.”
“Oh, yes. Farfetch’d is delicious. At least, that is what MY servants have told me… omastar do not have much of a sense of taste.” He steps closer. “But do not worry. In the end, I am certain you will enjoy the ritual thoroughly.”
I hope he’s right. I don’t want to ruin it. The worst case scenario would be my body rejecting the flesh entirely, making me unable to complete the ritual. I do consider being disgusted at the flesh very unlikely, but the blood…
I’ve tasted blood before, out of curiosity. It was bitter and sickening and my body screamed at me to spit it out. I figured that maybe it was an acquired taste and tried a few times again, but the reaction never changed.
I’m quite confident in being able to suppress my natural unwillingness during the ritual - it wouldn’t be much different from swallowing foul-tasting medicine - but I do fear the possibility of failure. And even with success, I expect it to sour part of the experience for me…
“That goes for the blood as well,” Kohath interrupts my thoughts. “You are far from the first servant to worry about your body rejecting the blood… but you would be the first to whom it would actually happen.”
He places a hand on my shoulder. “Trust ME. Trust the beast within yourself. You will love the ritual.”
If it’s about trust… “Then I will trust YOU with all my heart.”
Kohath grins. His pointed canines show.
He looks to my left, where the sacrificial board stands. Pleased with it, he walks around it, studying the rest of the room. "I see you have prepared the transportation circle… correctly, of course… are you confident that you will be able to remember the other half?"
"Yes, my lord." I've practiced enough times, and if I still forget, I've made a note to help me remember - and it's written in a way only I should be able to understand.
"Perfect." He returns to my half of the room. "All seems to be as it should. From this point on, I am unable to help. Save for the testing of her blood… it is up to you, Red."
I lock my dark eyes in his wild yellows. "I am prepared, my lord. I will not disappoint YOU."
He smiles one last time. "Good. Farewell for now, my priest."
"Farewell, my lord."
His form fades away. I can feel HIS presence withdraw, rush past me like wind. It all concentrates on the fossil, and then…
HE is gone.
The room feels colder now. Desolate. I already miss HIM… but I've got a job to do.
Time to get dressed and head out.
- - -
That takes care of the circle.
With shaking hands, I slip the chalk back into its container and drop the plastic box into my backpack. Eyeing the white circle on the asphalt before me, I make sure no detail was forgotten. While I'm confident in my recreation, I still take a final peek at my note to confirm it. Yes, it's correctly prepared. And, looking around… no one saw.
Even if they had, I do have a hood, beanie and scarf to obscure my face and hair as much as possible without appearing too suspicious - the same outfit I've had on for the whole time I've stalked her. I just need to make sure never to wear these without good reason after this.
Oh, Gods, my heart is giving my chest an absolute beatdown. I haven't even seen her yet and already I'm freaking out. I know I've already stalked her, and I know I've hunted wild mon, but this feels totally different! Just being in the same places as someone else isn't an immediate crime, and in the woods, the risk of some other civilian popping out of nowhere is slim. But here… the whole plan might go to shit just because someone happens to walk past at the same time she does. Either I notice in time, making me have to try the same thing tomorrow, or I notice too late and --
No, concentrate! Get on with the plan - prepare for the ambush!
I grab the bag and quickly shuffle away from the secluded apartment-side parking lot. The windows of the buildings are all either empty or covered with blinds or curtains, making this place less visible than it seems.
Sufficiently away, but not quite at my ambush spot yet, I dig out more equipment from my bag. First, headphones to put on my ears to make me seem preoccupied - even if I have nothing to plug it into, but an onlooker won't be able to tell. Second, a plain-looking rag. Third, a plastic flip-top vial of yellowish fluid.
These tools now readily available, I move to the ambush spot. It's a bench by the sidewalk, on the edge of a grassier patch where some oaks grow. This sidewalk is one that the target usually takes at this time, and one that isn't busy by a long shot. Of all the locations alongside her path, this seems to be the best.
I keep the vial and rag hidden within the pockets of my hoodie along with the cord of the headphones tucked in. A smartphone would likely be a far better cover, but… I have my reasons not to use one.
Alright. Breathe calmly, but stay vigilant. Even if I’m here well in time, she could arrive sooner than normal.
I watch as people occasionally pop in and out of view, casually strolling from one street to another. None of them has been the target yet. They’re just strangers passing by, going from wherever to wherever. Normal humans and mon. Walking, sometimes chatting on the phone or to each other. So careless. They have no idea that an abduction is soon to happen. No streak of worry in their thoughts, if they have thoughts at all.
This is boring, yes, but still far better than whatever I’d be doing in school right now, I bet. No arbitrary facts to memorize or teachers nagging about assignments or homework. I’ll do them if I do them, and I’ll do just enough to advance to the next grade so that I’m not stuck there forever. Though I’ll do more if what you have is actually interesting. Show you that I’m not a dumbass, I just don’t care. I’m not here to please you.
And then there are the other kids. Oh, the other kids. All of them chasing their own petty little goals. Looks, popularity, attention, grades, boyfriends, girlfriends… sure, you’ll need good grades to get into certain professions, but it’s obvious it’s more to impress their parents. Even teachers sometimes. And so it comes back to attention. So much they do just for the sake of looking good to others. A pointless goal.
I could certainly ignore them if it wasn’t for the fact that the most pathetic of the bunch have to come and get on my nerves. I’ll be there, just walking in the hallway, trying to get from point A to point B, and some piece of human filth decides it’s necessary to loudly ask me how my snail is doing. They only saw me with Him once, but clearly it was enough. Now I'm the snailfucker. But that's not where the entertainment ends. The snailfucker also has a phobia of screens, so it's really fun to flash him with them. He gets so angry. He punches and kicks and beats the shit out of the ones that do it, but it's still so funny. The bruises are worth it because he then gets dragged away to the principal's office so that he can be yelled at. The pain doesn't matter because pissing off the snailfucker is so funny. Everybody likes seeing it. Everyone thinks it's cool. It will make them like you, and if they like you, you're not the one being yelled at. Your insecurities stay secret and weaknesses unexploited. As long as you keep pushing other people under the bus, you won't have to admit how worthless you really are…
But… it doesn't have to be that way anymore.
The warmth that realization brings spreads throughout my body once again. Things really are going to change. I'm really gonna get my way out. And it'll be wonderful. I'll get to do anything I want, just the way I want. I'll get to right every wrong. Have things the way they should be. Feel content, happy, glad I exist.
All I need to do is keep serving HIM. Continue training myself. Hone my body and mind to become the perfect vessel for HIM to inhabit once HE has gathered enough power to do so. Then HE will create that form HE would have all those millennia ago had HIS kingdom not fallen. The form that will let US reach omnipotence… and then...
Hold on. Young woman approaching, long brown hair, that’s the target. And she’s alone. No one else is on the street. Okay, okay, get ready. Be ready.
Heart thumping in my ears, I suppress the twitching of my right leg. I wait with my head down, somewhat pretending to jam along to the imaginary music from my headphones. Maybe music could be calming in a situation like this. But it’d drown out an entire sense, and I can’t have that.
She’s a few meters away. She’s tapping on her phone, yes, wonderful! Old folks can complain all they want about us youngsters constantly being on them, it’s a golden distraction for me.
I open the vial and slowly pour the liquid onto the rag. I squeeze the rag lightly to spread the absorbed fluid further. The vial empties and I click it closed, not that it’s crucial to do right now.
The rag in my right fist, I watch her approach. I feel the ground beneath my feet. Two meters. Check the street, still empty. One meter.
She passes me.
I strike.
- - -
Though my face is stone as I briskly walk towards home, a storm rages inside my skull. The abduction keeps replaying, and the rumination won’t stop.
I leapt faster than she turned around. I covered her mouth with the rag before she could shield herself. Her phone fell to the asphalt, and she struggled in vain until the spores got to her. I checked my surroundings again, and no one was around.
I snagged her phone off the ground and carried her to the circle, still alone. Having set her within and drawn the activating line, transferring her to HIS room in a subtle flash, I cleaned the chalk away with my bottle of water and smashed the phone with my hammer. With that, the abduction part was over, and I started heading home. Everything had gone according to plan.
Except for one thing.
At the very beginning of that chain of events, as I first touched her, something happened. I felt something strange. It wasn’t there when I trapped wild mon - with them, I only felt the thrill of power, of seizing prey. It wasn’t there when I beat the shit out of the idiots at school. Their flesh didn’t give this response underneath my fingers.
But with her… I don't know. I felt dominion, yes, I always do, but there was something else beside it, and it stayed until I let go. A kind of… hesitance, and then… tranquility.
Had it been something sexual, it may not have been so surprising, but it wasn't. I know what sexual feels like, Kohath makes that obvious, but this woman didn't make that happen, just like no woman has...
No, I need to let this go. My brain probably just got confused because it found itself in a brand new scenario. Right now, it's time to focus on other things. I’m almost at my house and the preparations will soon continue.
I turn the corner, arriving at my front yard.
Gray car. Mom’s car. Parked in front of the house.
What the hell? Why is she home so early? It’s the middle of her workday!
My fists clench, but I force them open. This doesn’t ruin my plans. As long as she stays the hell out of the basement, I’ll be fine. I only need to use the shower and the seemingly-abandoned room. I’ll just tell her I’m working out and don’t want to be distracted.
And He and Fonz are still away, right? I don’t have to watch out for those two, and I don't have to worry about the additional effort He takes, as Him I absolutely must keep around and oblivious for HIS sake. Instead, I only have one person to hide my activities from. I can do that.
I reach the front door and enter the house. I spot my mother’s black hair at the couch before she turns to me. I look away. I don’t want her face to piss me off on this big day.
“Hey,” she says. Her tone mostly appears disinterested, but a hint of disapproval betrays her true feelings.
Let me guess, she's not a fan of me being home so early. Assumes I skipped school, and she'd be right. The real question is whether she's gonna bitch about it or not.
"Hey," I respond, hoping the conversation will end at that. I remove my shoes and almost throw off my backpack, but remember just in time that it wouldn't be very smart given the hammer within. Not to mention Mrs Swinub here might catch the scent of something off and come a-sniffing my tracks the moment I leave the room. I should at least take the bag upstairs to shove in some books and take out the tools. But I should be fast - if the target happened to wake up early, she could cause a lot of --
"Shouldn't you be at school?"
Ah, well, there goes the conversation continuing.
"It ended early," I say and head straight for the stairs. Not that it stops her.
"I know your schedule. It doesn't end early."
"Did today." Maybe that'll work, probably won't, who cares, I'm already halfway up. Luckily, she stays silent, at least for now. She might pick it back up after I return, though. Well, I'll need to speak to her again anyway to let her know I'll be busy in the basement. Hopefully she'll respect my privacy. Or just not bother to break it, really.
In my room, I replace the contents of my backpack as planned, and then it's back to the crossfire already. My foot has barely touched the floor when she kills whatever hope I had left of her leaving me alone.
"You can't keep skipping school."
Yes, I can. I've been able to do it so far and I'll be able to do it in the future. There's a clear minimum requirement for presence and I'm above it. I don't want myself to be held back a grade any more than you do. That would just mean I'd be stuck there for longer. There, that building, the whole education system, whichever.
"You'll never get anywhere if you keep going like this."
Her signature phrase. Looks like this has the potential to evolve into a full rant. I should probably cut this short before it does. I walk over to the door to the basement, grab the handle and --
"You can't just... keep being a lazy, irresponsible parasite!"
Wow, okay! What the hell got into her? I didn't expect that to escalate so quickly. Did something happen or --
Thunk.
Oh. I see.
Glass against the table. It was quiet, but I heard it, and I know what it means. You've got a glass of wine over there. And I'm willing to bet you have even more in your system.
"People have responsibilities, you know," she says. Now that I know to look for it, there's definitely a little slurring there. "Go to school, get a job, contribute to society. Pay the world back for what it's given to you. At least show some goddamn respect for the people that keep it running!"
What people? You? The bitch getting hammered before the sun's even hit its peak? Why aren't you working?
The cold metal digging into my palm suddenly makes me aware that there are several knives in the kitchen. Some sharp, some duller, but most absolutely sufficient for driving into the gut of a drunken hypocrite. Several times. Over and over. And then she'd shut up. No more yelling. No more asking me why I'm like this or why I can't be like the other kids. No more accusations of being lazy, insolent, not even trying. No more glaring lack of benefit of the doubt or even some kind of critical thought that would let you know that your son doesn't exist solely to fucking please you!
She sighs. I'm surprised I heard it, really, over my boiling blood and all.
"Why couldn't you just be normal?" she laments. I hear her pick up the glass again. The poor woman, reduced to drinking her woes away because her son didn't turn out exactly the way she wanted. She couldn't possibly try to work with what she got, no, it isn't perfect so better yell at it until it gets that way. Yeah, that's gonna work. The magmar will learn to swim.
Fuck this. I'm giving too much headspace to these pointless thoughts. It doesn't matter what she thinks of me as long as she keeps me fed and warm, and the law requires that she does. Right now, I have something more important on my plate. Time to put an end to this.
"I'm gonna work out in the basement for a while," I say quickly and slip in through the door. "Don't bother me. If you have to, knock and call before you-"
"Oh, work out for what? You're never gonna do any actual labor in your life!"
I slam the door shut behind me.
Once I've ascended, she'll get what's coming to her.
- - -
I find the target lying motionless on the transportation circle. I check her breathing and heartbeat. Both are just fine, but they alone don't prove no distortion occurred while she warped. For all I know, there could be an ongoing hemorrhage in her brain, only minutes from killing her. But that's really beyond anything I can help. As long as she stays alive and properly responsive for the ritual, it's a good enough condition for HIM.
Now to test something for my own sake, though. Being a mortal, I'm not immune to disease, and if I'm going to be ingesting her flesh and blood, they should be safe. I'd hate to get AIDS without even losing my virginity in return.
I fetch a knife - not the ritual knife, because I don’t want to clean it yet again - and pull back her sleeve. Such a thin wrist. Dainty. It's almost adorable. I grasp it in my hand. The fingers easily wrap around it. I feel her pulse again, and it's just as peaceful as the last time. What a lovely creature...
Aimi. That was her name. If I hadn't overheard it from her conversations, I wouldn't have anything to call her. She'd just be like any of the animals I've killed. But it’s good that she isn’t, right? This means that I’m really killing a human. One of my own kind. That’s what this test is about.
I take the edge of the knife to her wrist and slit. While it makes sense for her not to have flinched, it still feels a little odd - I’m used to only hurting conscious humans. Blood begins to leak out of the wound, fresh and vivid. It’s beautiful as always. I gather some onto the blade and bring it to the altar. I remove the fossil’s cover, and HE returns. HE waits silently for a drop to fall from the knife onto the stone, then withdraws for a few seconds to analyze.
Clean, HE tells my brain directly. I sigh out of relief, knowing this whole thing wasn't in vain.
HE leaves again. I clean the blood off the stone and cover it once more with the cloth. Alright. I guess it’s time for us to wash up, then.
Before that, however, I have to make sure my mother isn't in the basement. I carefully check through the keyhole, then by peeking my head out of the cracked door. There’s no sight or sound of her. Good, but for added security...
I get a broom and bring it to the top of the stairs, placing it to lean on the door. If my mother doesn't respect my plea for knocking or is simply too quick to open the door afterwards, the broom should come down with a good clatter. That's when I'll know to hide everything suspicious and then face the problem head-on.
I return to Aimi and begin to undress her. My touch still draws no reaction from her. She’s like a doll, really. I could dress her up in anything if I wanted to, but I’m a bit too busy for that. Not to mention the women’s clothes in this house all belong to my mother, and I don’t want to be reminded of her any more than I need to.
As her clothes keep piling up, I wonder what I should do with them afterwards. Feels like a waste to just dispose of them like her body, but I can’t sell them without leaving tracks… could I donate them anonymously? But how anonymous will that turn out to be once the investigation is launched? It’s likely just too much of a risk. So soon after the disappearance, anyway. Maybe I can hold on to them and sell them later… eh, I’ll think about it then.
Now the last piece of clothing is off. I lift Aimi by her knees and back, stagger upright and carefully make my way to the shower, balancing between strength to hold her up and precision not to trip on anything. Finally, I reach my destination and lay her down on the far end of the shower room. This was no worse than any workout, but I look forward to the warm water relaxing my skin nonetheless.
I undress myself and turn on the water. I step in - ahh, that’s good. That’s what I need. Streams finding paths off my limbs and back. Vapor spreading in the air. I can already feel my heartbeat slowing down. This is lovely. Oh, but time is limited… and Aimi’s purity is more important than mine.
I wash my skin and hair, and then it’s already the end of my turn. I dry myself off sufficiently enough and put on a shower cap, a raincoat and a pair of rubber gloves. If I had a mask too, I'd be like a surgeon. Well, fitting for what's to come, I guess…
I turn the water on again and drag the woman to the edge of its reach. I sit on my knees and prop her up against me, the raincoat crinkling.
With a bar of soap, I begin scrubbing her skin. The ever-streaming water washes away the emerging foam, dirt and dead tissue. Nothing seems particularly strange about this. I expected it to feel more odd, but it appears she's just another item to clean for me…
...until my hand hovers a little too long on her sternum.
I feel her heartbeat. I felt it before, but that was on her neck. Here on the chest, I'm so close to the organ itself… and my hand can't help but get closer.
I discard the bar of soap, just for a while, and press my palm against her chest. The pulse is so calm and slow. Peaceful. Even through the hotter water, I can feel her warmth, her breathing, her life. She's not just a doll, she's a living creature.
This feels so familiar and yet unfamiliar at the same time. I’ve had this feeling somewhere before, at least something very similar, but… I don’t think I’ve ever embraced anyone like this before. But I must have, right? My mother… she has to have held me before. She clearly doesn’t do it now, and I wouldn’t let her, but as a child, before she pushed me away… she must have.
But after that… have I ever even hugged anyone? Relatives, maybe, but those instances are required and the contact is quick and superficial. Friends? Never had ones close enough to consider hugging. Only acquaintances whom I would tolerate and be tolerated by.
So, for years… no, maybe my entire life, I've never been this close to another human being. So why does it still seem so --
Him.
I get it now. It's Him.
I was thinking of humans before, so it must've not crossed my mind. But this is all too close to what I have with Him. The delight of holding Him tight but gently. A desire to protect and appreciate.
I thought it was only because of the Voices. He was my rock in the storm and I grew so close to Him. The Voices let me do it, it was one of the few things they didn't stop. And they praised Him. In any other case, I would've hated to be told what to like, but with Him… I knew He fully deserved all that worship.
It remained after the journey was over. It's remained since. I thought it was something strange they'd done to my brain to make me capable of affection, though just for this one special case. Everyone else I've just wanted to stay away. They've had nothing to offer but derision and stupidity.
But now I have a human in my hands that I want to keep holding.
I wonder if there’d be someone out there that would want to hold me, too. Someone I could like, spend time with, get close to. That’d be very nice. It’d make my whole life better, even. I wouldn't have to cling to only Him. I would have more to appreciate, more to lean on when the world kicks me in the face. Maybe with a person like that, I could even --
Except I can't.
Celibacy.
Right. I can't get into a relationship. HE forbids it. I can't connect with another human being. Or even a mon. Outside Him, that is. My bond with Him is only beneficial in HIS eyes as it motivates me to take good care of an important asset. At least that connection I can have.
And it’s alright! I only need Him. Maybe I don’t even need Him. I know I’m going to ascend eventually. I’ll be one with HIM and everything will be perfect. A god decides exactly how he feels, and I’m going to feel amazing. Until then, I just have to manage. Stay alive and free and do as HE tells me. Then I’ll get everything I need. Unless I can’t do what HE tells me...
A horrible clatter freezes my body. Within a second, I remember my alarm system and thaw free. I need to act fast.
My mother's barely called my name when I've already put Aimi down, shut off the shower and opened the door. I remember my raincoat and gloves, throw them off and leap out.
"Why's this broom here?" her voice asks. I hear a step, but stop her from advancing any further by rushing up to the middle of the stairs, into her view. Thank the Gods these stairs have a turn. So much safer that way.
"In case you didn't knock," I reply, ignoring her flinch at my nudity. "And you didn't. What do you want?"
"Just a pizza," she grumbles and takes another step, but I raise a hand.
"I'll get it." Seeing her stopped, I withdraw and open the freezer.
"Mozzarella," she says.
"Yeah, yeah." I know your flavor, Mom, it's always the same. I bring her what she wants and watch her move away. I grab the broom and pull it back. She stops and gives a disapproving stare.
"It won't drop if you knock," I tell her. "I'll put it away when I come."
This is enough to make her relent and shut the door. I place back the broom and sigh. Bullet dodged.
Alright. I better get back to the shower and finish washing Aimi soon. I'll be safer again once we get behind the hidden door.
- - -
I think she's dry enough now.
For good measure, I ruffle Aimi's hair with the towel one last time before putting it away. Her hair is still wet and runs down in stringy clumps, but I doubt HE will mind. HE only needs her to be clean and healthy.
And on that note, I bandage the wound on her wrist. According to HIS orders, any wounds must be covered to give the impression of unbroken skin. To make her like a freshly picked fruit, ready to receive the first bite. That simile still makes me feel uneasy…
But there's no room for hesitance now. I have a ritual to perform.
I’ve already prepared the cooking equipment. I filled the bowl with cold water from the shower and moved the whole setup to the front of the altar for better accessibility and view. The tinder I set alight by striking together two hooves of a rapidash - a method said to produce hotter flames. I don’t know how true it is, but at least the resulting red tint of the fire is rather beautiful. I hope the little grate at the corner of the room is enough for ventilation… but not too much, as I don’t want my mother getting suspicious of the smell. If I’m lucky, though, she’ll just think I’m burning more candles.
While the water heats, there’s one last thing to take care of. The offering must be strapped to the board. Once that’s done and she starts waking up, HE too can be awakened… and the ritual can begin.
I hope the board won’t get damaged during the ritual. I did build it sturdy enough to hold a struggling human, just as HE instructed, but it’d be a shame to see all the polish wear away already. The carefully fitted planks, their sanded edges, the varnish to smoothen and preserve, the stand to keep the board steady and at a slight upward tilt. The straps are a bit modest, though, I’ll admit - just belts nailed on there - but this is still something I’d consider good enough to sell. It’s just a shame there isn’t a market for it. Or maybe there is, but it’s likely illegal and underground, and I shouldn’t get myself into a crowd like that. Too dangerous.
I drag Aimi to the board, prop her up against it and start fastening the straps. Arms, legs, wrists, ankles, neck, forehead. She stays up on her own, and the proportions match well. Good. I fetch a cloth from the table, a cloth for my own sake, to save the hunter's ears from screams too loud. I put it on her mouth and tie the ends behind her head. Finally, I step back.
There she is. All ready for death, consumption. This is what I'll be eating today. Human.
It’s so strange. These things, these creatures I see around myself every day, walking and talking, in my own reflection - I'm going to be killing one and eating part of it. They used to feel so untouchable. Rules and laws as protective barriers around them. Invisible armor. Only at school is it thin enough for me to dare break it. They almost expect boys to fight.
I place a hand on Aimi's chest. There's that heart beating again. It feels so nice, so warm and peaceful. I can touch it, and she doesn't swat me away. In a few minutes, she will be trying to, but won't succeed. I'll be able to get even closer to her heart. Though the ribs are in the way, and a knife isn't enough to get rid of those. I guess I won't get to see it. Shame. I'd like to know what it looks like on the flesh. The graphs don't tell enough.
What will I be doing to her, anyway? HE wasn't very specific about the approach. I think the only thing HE required was the gathering of enough blood and flesh for consumption. 'Enough' is vague, too. Maybe HE will tell me. Or maybe HE wants me to work it out for myself.
Regardless, I know it will be painful for her. And I know that's part of the point. She has to suffer so I can prove it doesn't affect me. A predator doesn't cry for its prey, HE said, and HE is correct.
I wonder what her body will look like after this is done. Pretty ripped up, probably. And I’ll have to cut her up further so she’ll comfortably fit in a bag I can dispose of in the way HE taught me. And sneak her past my mother. I’ll say it’s garbage. But she might ask more questions. She doesn’t exactly like to trust my word. Should I just wait until nighttime? The corpse would start to smell, right? That might be suspicious by itself. Maybe I should put her in a container of some kind, that would seal the stink. Eh, I don’t know. I could try carrying her a few pieces at a time in a smaller bag so that the size doesn’t quite strike my mother’s eye… you know what, that's really a problem for later. There’s a ritual to be done right now, I’ll sort things out afterwards.
I press my palm against her more strongly to feel a few final pulses of that diligent organ, then pull away. I remove my gloves and coat, throw them aside and walk to the altar. Basking in the fire's heat, I sit down and close my eyes.
Dammit, wait. I forgot the knife. I quickly retrieve it, place it on the floor near myself and resume my previous position.
Alright. Now I just have to wait. Everything is ready. I am ready. I was born ready, even. All my life has been leading up to this point and onwards from there. I was never meant to be just another human. That's become obvious by now. I'm a misfit in this world, and so, all I can do is make my own. And HIS power will allow for me to do just that. I just need to do what HE wants me to. And I should be able to. I sure hope I'm able to. If I'm not, I'll have to settle for this poor excuse of a life. That's why I have to succeed today. And time and time again - but if I can kill once, I should have no trouble doing it again.
For now, just relax. Calm your mind. Listen to that fire crackle. The water's hissing, too. Once I hear Aimi waking up, it's showtime. Though if that ends up taking too long, I have some smelling salts to speed things up. Spores don't work on a rigid schedule. No drug does, really, depends too much on the target. Either way, I should try to relax while I still have time. Just breathe. You know the lines. You have the equipment. You are a predator. You will make HIM proud.
Measured only by the quick beats of my heart, time passes. I think of nothing but the warmth on my legs and my breathing.
"Nh…"
Awake. I am awake, eyes open. All thoughts come at once. Turn head to check on Aimi? Go straight for the fossil, no time wasted? Wait for another noise for confirmation?
"Nn-nnhh…!"
My choice was made for me. Now I can get up - no, take the knife, now I can get up. I circle the cooking equipment and face the covered fossil. As soon as I remove the cloth, HE will be here, watching. No room for error. I must prove to HIM that I'm worthy.
Stop shaking. You know what you're doing. So do it! Show HIM how much you want this!
Almost with a rip, I yank the cloth away. HE is there. My mentor, my master, my god. And inside me, a fire roars, the fire to perform, succeed! Like a boulder loaded on a catapult, the words of the ritual rise to my tongue...
"Welcomed be You, Lord of Predators!"
It came out perfectly - or as perfectly as words of an ancient forgotten language can from the mouth of someone relatively new to it. The rah still gives me trouble, but it satisfies HIM for now, and that's all that matters. Continuing on...
"I offer onto YOU the bounty of my hunt."
A whimper. Aimi is realizing the situation she's in. It moves something inside me… but not in a bad way. I think I even liked it.
“Blood and flesh of a pure doe I bring. May YOU find pleasure in this feast. Under YOUR eye, I now prepare the prey.”
And those are the words! The first part is over. Now comes the real meat of the ritual. Literally.
I circle the fire, eyes on the porcelain bowl, my next objective. My heart pounds now for a completely different reason than before. There is no doubt. There is only delight, the delight of perfection. I reach the bowl, touch it, grab it. Against its smooth, white surface, I feel my own sweat. Same goes for the knife, I realize. But I’m not nervous, I’m just excited. Or it’s hot, there’s a fire, it could be hot. It doesn’t matter! I have to keep going!
I turn around to face Aimi. The offering. She isn’t anyone anymore. She’s flesh. Just an animal. I approach her. I approach the wriggling animal, staring into its wide, terrified eyes. It whines, knowing that pain is imminent, death surely close behind. What does she whine for? Who does she think will help? This stranger before her? He won't listen. He has no clothes on, holds a knife and a porcelain bowl and, just moments ago, and spoke ancient words to a simple rock. Surely a madman.
She likely knows. She knows there is no help coming, no escape, but that primal side of her drives her to try regardless. Cry out for help. Cry out for a mother, a packmate, a protector, caretaker…
In a flash, I see the exact wrong thing.
I saw round, teary eyes that pleaded me to help. Limbs stretched out for calming and comfort. A tiny creature in fear. Halfway retreated to His shell.
He wanted me, He needed me. He needed me to bring Him safety. Hold Him and guard Him. Make sure no harm comes.
A wet touch on my hand alerts me the knife is slipping away. I secure it in a grip tighter than ever before. Same for the bowl. Knife and bowl. I know what I'm meant to do with those. Cut her and gather her flesh. So I should.
I take another step. But I don't.
The joints have locked in place and the limb has tripled in weight. The will to move the leg is there, but the body rejects it, like the strain would seriously injure me. No, what I would approach would injure me. It thinks I'm trying to walk into a blazing inferno.
But why? What's keeping me from advancing? What makes me think something… something horrible is going to happen if I go on? Like something very important would be broken, irreversibly so? There's nothing irreversible about this. Well, there's her life, but her life doesn't matter to me, does it? And nothing will change with a kill. Or it will - it will make HIM proud of me, believe in me even more! And that only means more opportunities. I won't be losing anything! It won't put me down a path with no return. I could still quit any time. HE told me so. I could just return the fossil where I found it, along with everything else that was with HIM, and leave HIM to wait for someone else, someone worthy. I could resume my old life like nothing had happened.
Or… could I? Is this reaction trying to tell me that… something really would change? Something so drastic that it must be avoided like fire?
Lost, I try to find meaning in Aimi’s eyes. Still pleading. I don’t see Him. But I could see Him. Is that what it is? Will hurting her feel like I was hurting Him? Will I experience myself torturing the one I would never, ever torture and be haunted by that memory for the rest of my life? Is that the irreversibility?
Or will it be even worse? Will something that was completely hidden before reveal itself, some primal social instinct that makes the other humans unable to kill? Will I experience guilt? Will it eat away at my soul like it’s said to do, will it drive me to turn myself in, lock myself up for the rest of my life, override my sense of self-interest?
And that’s not the end of it. If I feel regret, it doesn’t even matter if I killed her or not. Regret is not for predators. It’s an instant rejection in HIS eyes. So not only would I suffer at the hands of my own brain, I would be locked to the miserable life of a mortal. No godhood. No escape, no freedom. Only an end.
My priest.
Oh Gods. HE has noticed.
You appear to have stopped.
Cold sweat emerges from my skin all around.
HIS voice is calm, neutral. No rage. But I know HE must be enraged.
What prevents you from stepping forth?
Doesn't HE know? HE must know. Whatever I think, HE should hear. But HE still asks. HE requested an answer. I should give it. But I don't even want to admit it. Do I have to say it if HE already knows?
If you cannot say it, I shall tell you myself.
HE raised HIS voice. Oh Gods, oh Gods, no, don't be angry. My fist tightens around the knife's handle as I brace for possible punishment. I see Aimi perplexed by my sudden fear, though her own hasn't diminished.
You are afraid of the possibility of failure, HE speaks. The mere possibility. That is foolishness. A test will always have a possibility of failure - it would be no test otherwise. Thus it serves no purpose to fear that. It is inevitable.
But this test isn't.
No, don't think that, you'll make HIM --
This test does not seem inevitable to you?
No, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to talk back --
You believe there is an alternative for you?
Well, i-it appears so. I'm sorry. But I just… it doesn't make sense to me - that so many people would be content with their mortality, find happiness without divine powers, and that I would be the sole exception to whom it's impossible. I know I'm different in many ways, but there are others that are different, too, and they still seem to find their own ways --
They do not. Do not be fooled. They suffer just as you do. Only MY divinity can free them.
It would be so easy, so relieving to just accept what HE says as fact. It would free me from doubt and bring me delight knowing I've pleased HIM. But there's a part of me, my identity, my individuality, that refuses to cave in. That stubborn, stubborn part. It's what makes me a misfit in the first place.
Before my fear can cover its mouth, it speaks a name - Kohath. And its echo continues even after it's silenced.
Kohath was content. That is what the scriptures say. That is what HE agrees with. Kohath was content and so were all Helixians, yet they were mortals just like me.
I can feel HE is about to respond.
They lived in a different world, my priest. A kingdom all to themselves, designed by ME. Of course they were content - they were free.
HE speaks with words. HE speaks truths. These feed the individual. Fear subsides, if only slightly.
But you are not free, and your shackles are too strong for you to break. You could never escape to the wilds like Kohath did, you could never form your own clan and build your own kingdom. Nations have grown too powerful, too vigilant to let that happen. They would track you down and drag you back into their civilization. Force you to file away your fangs. Deny your true nature. In that world, there is no happiness for you, and only through ME can you rectify it.
HIS words make sense. HIS conclusions are logical. The individual can't argue. Does that make HIM correct? The individual doubts. But he can't say why he doubts or what he doubts. Does that make him wrong? Should I accept HIS words as fact? I want to. This is tiring. I want to be relieved, I want pleasure, success. I want to let HIM cover my mind like a warm, soft blanket. Things would be so clear. While that individual, he's still trying to unravel the argument like a moth emerged from its cocoon unfolds its wings… just let go…
...let go? Let go? No, you can't let go. Your mind must be yours alone. Don't you see what's happening? You're losing your free will. And you need that to keep yourself safe! You need to doubt. You need to hesitate. Weigh your options. You can't blindly go where HE tells you to! Maybe HE doesn't know the right way for you! Maybe HE is purposefully leading you astray! HE could be only using y-
No, what are you doing? HE can hear it all! Don't think like that around HIM! But it's already too late, isn't it? The god has heard me, and HE will take my mind by force! HE will remove my capacity to argue back and make me HIS slave! What will HE make me do? How miserable will HE make me through HIS pursuit of whatever it is HE seeks?
I feel the floor against my knees - I must have collapsed. I free my hands to grab my head and draw to a ball. I have to beg. I have to beg for mercy, forgiveness, another chance. There is no escaping this slavery, but if I'm good and obedient, it won't hurt as much --
"Red."
Flinch. Something warm touches my back.
I would be terrified, but I know that voice, and that touch seems familiar, too. It's gentle. Both are gentle. I've dreamed of gentleness from that person.
"I will not hurt you."
Gradually, my trembling subsides. I hear things beyond the blood in my ears. The crackling of fire, the sizzling of water, quiet sniffling from Aimi. I'm back in reality… but the one touching my back, he shouldn't be real, should he?
I unravel my position, sitting up. I look behind me. There he is, Kohath.
He sits on the floor just like me. His golden eyes have… compassion. I've never seen it before.
“It is not my will to force anything upon you,” he says. “Not actions nor thoughts.”
HE… won’t force me? HE won’t punish me for rejecting HIS thoughts?
Kohath nods. “Correct. It is as I have previously said - you may choose to leave at any time. I would only ask of you then to return all that you found in Mt. Moon to its former place and let me continue to wait for another priest in peace. Nothing more.”
His gaze turns stern. “However, I am honest in saying I do not foresee contentment for you if you turn from this path. I have watched humans for many years. Humans like you, Red. Predators. I know a world led by prey is misery for your kind. And I know how terrifying mortality can be…”
He moves - I wince, but soon see there’s no need to be startled as he simply offers a hand.
“If you were to stay, it would greatly benefit us both,” he continues. “I would find the one I have awaited for millennia, the one to restore my power, and you… you would get all that you could ever dream of, and so much more. All of reality fully malleable. The joys you would experience… no mortal words can even describe them.”
A smile has crept on his face. It’s almost like Kohath himself was enjoying the thoughts HE is invoking, regardless of being only an illusion.
HE has told me this before. It’s why I chose to serve HIM to begin with. The power to do anything. I could rise above the entire world and order it to bow at my feet. Locate the ones that are making my life hell and tear them to bloody shreds without even lifting a finger. Banish any fear or frustration from my mind, make myself into whatever I want to be. Exist in unquestionable bliss, completely free from any mortal worries. Finally rest.
I want that. I want to ascend. I don’t want to be trapped in a miserable life, on a conveyor belt headed for the end of my existence, the unknown that the human mind can’t even comprehend.
But does it have to be miserable? Is it really that impossible for me to be happy in this world? I still have moments of joy. Basking in the sun on a warm spring morning, seeing little birds flit and hop about in the trees. Learning new things from books in the library while enjoying a fresh muffin from its café. Holding Him in my lap while He watches a movie, softly stroking His shell and knowing He likes it.
But even if I’m happy, I’ll still die. Could I really ignore that fact for a lifetime, focus on how I’m still alive, keep going until the very end and pass away like an animal unable to understand that it’s guaranteed to die one day? Or would the fear of it keep gnawing at my heart, souring any joys I could be experiencing?
“Red, please,” Kohath says, offering his hand further. “At least let me help you up. It will not bind you to anything.”
Right. I suppose it’s pretty rude to ignore him like this… even if I end up not staying, HE has still given me a lot. Training, knowledge. I should at least be polite to show my gratitude.
I place a hand onto Kohath's. He grips it firmly. His skin is warm and dry, the opposite of my cold sweat, but he doesn't flinch. Well, he's just an illusion, so I guess it makes sense, but somehow, it's still assuring.
With his lead, I get back onto my feet. Both of us upright, I realize again how tall he is. How graciously he stands. This beautiful, beautiful man. Even through the hell my heart is braving from this hurricane of emotions, I can feel it pound a little harder.
HE could make me like that, too. A masterpiece of flesh.
"Now," he begins, letting go of my hand and walking past me. I'm confused until I remember the situation and see him gather the knife and bowl. The latter doesn't seem to have broken from being thrown off. That's good…
He hands the items to me. "We shall resume the test," he says. "Its result shall be the answer you give me."
Result, answer. To leave HIM, I refuse to continue, and to stay…
I turn to the woman on the board. She flinches and whines. I remember again what made me hesitate the first time - the fear of guilt. The fear of seeing Him when I hurt her… that wasn't solved, was it. Was anything solved?
"Red," Kohath says, and I feel him place a hand on my shoulder. His tone is soft. "I must let you know that I see much potential in you. You have been a wonderful servant thus far, and my training has evolved your body and mind at a very fast rate…"
He leans closer. His chest touches my back, and his breath warms my ear. It shuts down all my motions. My body now only concentrates on his words, his deep whisper...
"It would be a great shame to see you leave without even attempting this test, simply because you fear its possible consequences."
He's right. I want to try it, but that something deep inside tells me it could ruin my life…
"That is why I will give you this promise," he continues. "I do not expect its condition to be filled, but… should you feel regret from killing her, regret that would last a lifetime… I promise to make you forget."
The dark clouds above my heart vanish.
He would make me forget?
"Yes," he whispers. "As soon as you finished disposing of her body, I would wipe the memory of this from your mind. You would return me to the mountain to seek another priest, and you would continue to live your life as it was before - with a little piece of my stony home to allow your omanyte friend to keep resurrecting, of course. It would be like you had never even met this woman. No memory, no regret. No lives ruined.”
But what if I --
“I would keep you stable. You would not turn yourself in - I would not allow you to do that to yourself. It would be inconvenient for me as well, after all. I need my houndoom to stay hidden from mareep eyes.”
This… this changes everything.
I focus on Aimi again. Any pain I’d possibly feel from hurting her would be temporary. It would be gone within less than a day. Just a few hours. Maybe even less if I’m quick in erasing the evidence.
That I can do.
The cold on my skin begins to subside. Something within is warming me up. I recognize it - it’s the flame from before. The excitement. The thrill.
I squeeze the handle of the knife. Yes, I have the power in my hand. The claw and fang. I can cut right through that invisible barrier that she thought would protect her. And HE, here in Kohath’s form, will witness it. HE will be pleased. I will serve HIM.
I walk up to her - finally, I can walk freely, the fear is gone! She cowers, she whimpers, but I have no pity, no mercy!
I raise the knife, a firm and confident grip on its handle. This is happening. Finally. I'll slice her belly open! It won't be the spot for meat, but it'll show me what's inside. It'll reduce her to the animal she is. It'll bring out the animal in me!
With one decisive motion, I slash across her abdomen and --
What am I doing?
What am I doing? I’m killing a person! I’m committing murder, one of the worst crimes in society. They’re gonna find out. They’re gonna bust in through the door and point guns at me. They’ll shoot me on the spot or lock me up forever. They’ll never forgive me. And He - what’s He gonna think? He’s never gonna let me near Him again. Not that they would, either. I’ll rot in a cell. Forever, until death. I’m gonna die. And I’ll die miserable.
What have I done? She’s gonna die… even if she won’t die, she’ll tell. Even if she won’t tell, they’ll see her scar and they’ll look into it and they’ll follow the thread until they find me and --
The picture changes.
I’m no longer looking at a featureless groove on her pale skin, a path of motion. Color is crawling out. Red. Vivid. Droplets forming, submitting to gravity, sliding down. Colors of sunrise in their trail. Silent while the woman screeches.
The wound grows wider as her breathing tears it apart. Gaping. More red. Torn flesh. Blood. Fresh, sparkling blood, glowing -- vibrant blood, I, I...
I want it.
- - -
More. More. More. More. More…
I squeeze. There’s not much. There’s very little. It’s run out. I wish there were more, like there was at the start, there was so much, but now it’s empty -- I bite, but there’s still so little, dammit, I need more!
I rip at the organ with my teeth, but I just taste my own gums. This is scraps. I throw it away. It plops down somewhere, empty, meaty. But it’s too stringy to eat. Without cooking. But I don’t want it now, now I want blood, more blood. Her body has to have it.
I lunge at the woman. There’s a pool of red fluid inside her torso. I almost dig in, but remember to sniff. Oh, eugh, that’s not good. This blood isn’t pure. It smells bad, it must taste bad. But there’s a lot of it. Why did it have to mix with the bad fluid? Ruined…
Where to go for more blood? I lick the edges of her wounds while I decide. Mm, good. But I want more and faster. But I drank at all from the heart. That’s the blood organ. There was a lot of blood. Where else is blood?
“Red.”
That… who…
Oh, Kohath.
Does he want some too?
Touch. I feel a touch on my back. Weird. Feels weird. I think he wants me to move. I’ll do it, but I better get back soon…
I draw myself away from the body and turn around. Light kind of hurts my eyes. It’s blurry. Kohath is there, I think. I can’t see right, but it’s probably Kohath. What does he want?
“I am glad to see you enjoying the offering,” he says, face gradually sharpening, “but I would like you to resume the ritual now.”
Ritual? Ritual…
Ah, yes. There was a ritual… this is a ritual… what was I doing… what was the next step…
...what am I doing now, anyway?
I pause to catch my breath, not even having noticed it running away from me. The air tastes… weird. No, the air is normal. What’s inside feels weird. I’m going from weird to normal and for weird, that’s weird…
...This is a ritual, yes. The last thing I did was strike at her, and then I was supposed to gather the blood in the chalice… but I kind of just went for it directly. I latched onto her, and I sucked out what I could, like a whelp on its mother's teat…
Why did I do that? I thought blood tasted bad. Why did I want that so much and even more, wanted enough to tear through more of her with the knife to finally get to the heart and…
This is so weird…
I lick my teeth. I rinse my mouth with saliva and swallow. I guess this doesn't taste bad…
A noise. Porcelain against the floor. Kohath picks up the white bowl. Right, that bowl. Right, the flesh. I should do that thing.
I pick up the knife, and Kohath hands me the bowl. Uh, I guess the biggest muscles are in the leg? I should cut there. I stick the blade in right below the strap on the thigh. It sinks with a squish. Some more blood drips out. It looks good. But no, I just had plenty. I cut off a few chunks and gather them in the bowl. Would this be enough?
"You have filled yourself somewhat with all that blood already," Kohath says. "It shall do."
I nod and stagger to the fire. The water is bubbling hard. I drop in the chunks of meat, recoil to avoid being scalded and finally sit down, setting the items on the floor.
A chuckle comes from behind. I look. It's Kohath, though I could've figured that out anyway.
He grins, showing his sharp canines. "Did I not tell you that you would love the ritual?"
I… guess he did, yeah. But I didn’t expect it to go like this…
His footsteps circle around me, and he stops by the fire. “Well done, my priest. You have passed the test.”
The test…
I look over to the body. Its abdomen and other thigh have been torn open and their surroundings smeared with red. Messy brown hair falls upon a frozen face. A bandana wraps around the chin, apparently having slipped. Everything is limp, drooped - but the eyes aren't fully closed, only partway. What's beneath stares at something far away.
She's dead. And I killed her.
And I think I like that.
“You can rest easy now,” Kohath continues. “No longer will you have to ponder whether or not you truly are a predator.”
What will happen to her now, though? I think I need to get rid of the body… yeah, I do - HE taught me how in advance. I’ll just take her to the woods and use a disintegration circle. It’ll reduce her to nothing, nothing will be left behind…
But that doesn’t really feel right. I don’t want to erase her completely. I want to keep at least a part. Her head? No, how would I preserve that, I have no jars that big… what other part would keep her identity, represent her soul?
Her heart! Oh, but… I tore that thing apart. It’s in no presentable shape. It’s broken and dead, just like her body is now. What else… what else would be intimate about her, central to her existence, agency…
Some part of her head? An eye? No, there are two of those, two is divisive… there’s only one nose, but a nose would just be silly… a mouth can’t just be detached, though teeth could, but there’s so many of those and the same set doesn’t even stick with us humans for our whole life… it’d be a pain to yank each one out, too…
But what about the tongue?
The tongue… that’s pretty intimate. It’s kept to oneself, hidden behind the lips and teeth, but in no way is it passive - it gives us our speech. Our words. Our words are our thoughts, and our thoughts are our soul. It’s perfect. Well, not as perfect as her heart would be, but it’s the next best thing.
It’s not going anywhere, though, so I can wait until the ritual is over to get it. And then figure out how I’m gonna keep it from going bad while I try to get my hands on an actual preservative. Maybe I’ll freeze it. Wrap it in some foil, hide it at the bottom of the freezer so my mom can’t find it. Gods, imagine if she did. Tongue in the freezer…
I hear Kohath chuckle again. Is it because of my thoughts or something else? I turn to him with a confused look.
He smiles. “I simply realized… you forgot the salt.”
I stare into his golden eyes for a few seconds, not understanding what he meant. Then my lips, too, drag to a smile, and I laugh.
I guess I did.
- - -
Last edited: