|
Chapter 05
Pre Halloween (October)
This year, Halloween would have a sliver of the first quarter moon. It was always more dramatic when the moon was full, but if the weather was right, the first quarter could be fun. The time of year did seem to stimulate all of the otherkin, as Eliza thought of them and herself. Reminiscing about those first months of research and her eventual conversion always left her nostalgic and this time of year always lent itself to that. How little she knew then. She sighed. "How little I know, now," she thought. Pulling her cape about her, she began the walk back home. She'd been to the bar for some music and "news." The gossip there was always interesting and always was enlightening. Pissy and Shitty were in their normal seats and her favorite, the one adjacent to theirs and facing the band was available. She hesitated, letting her senses adjust to the new environment and to allow the two talkative beer guzzlers to become engrossed in their conversation. Waving at Max, the drummer, she glided into the booth, facing the band, her back to the chattering two. Max smiled at her and gave an extra little flourish on the drums. Smiling back, she gave him a thumbs up. Sean, the bartender, had her Pernod ready before she'd fully settled in. The woman who brought her drink to her was unfamiliar, she must be new, but Eliza smiled and eyed her. She was going to need feed soon and she was really trying to not wait to long. Her involvement with Sofye had really distracted her from her normal routine, but she was a lot more cheerful and was enjoying life more. It was cool but her leather skirt and soft leather cape were adequately warm. She liked it cool, but hated being cold and wet. The wisps of damp fog that tickled her face was actually rather pleasant to her senses. The sound of foot steps behind her galvanized her. With surprising swiftness, she literally vanished into the alley. A keen eye would have discerned a dark shadow, but total lack of movement would allow the eye to scan over it and not linger. Even her breathing was suspended. Though tense and ready for anything, her heart beat slowly and steadily, as if it, too, was trying to be quiet and allow no evidence of its presence. Eliza's eyes widened as she realized who it was. The cute waitress from the Rusty Nail, and she passed the alley with a firm and purposeful stride. Eliza could feel the hunting instinct rise in her. Like a vapor, she began to track her prey. This was not the best area of town so Eliza was wondering why the waitress was walking the streets at this time of night. Anyone watching would not have noticed Eliza. She was simply a shadow that flitted from one pool of darkness to the next. A car approached and slowed and the window was rolled down. After a short conversation with the young woman, the window rolled up and the car accelerated and turned out of sight. Eliza grinned. At least he could take no for an answer. She heard it before she saw it. The car roared around the corner and raced adjacent to Eliza's prey. Screeching to a halt, the driver, a large well dressed man jumped out of the car and blocked her path. "Not again," Eliza sighed. The young woman stepped back and Eliza heard the hiss of a chemical spray. The man snarled and tried to wipe his eyed and his gasping breath made it clear he was having difficulty breathing. The woman stepped forward and Eliza heard electrical snaps and pops. The man stiffened and toppled like a fallen tree. She had maced him and then hit him with a tazer. As she stepped over his prone form, she spat on him. "Put a fork in him, he's done," Eliza giggled. The woman spun, ready to fight again. Eliza raised her right hand. "Peace, I come in peace." Recognition lit her face and she lowered the tazer. "Oh, you're the Pernod Lady." She breathed a sigh of relief. "I'm glad to see you." Eliza noticed that her hands were shaking and there was a tremor in her voice. Seeing her sway, Eliza rushed to her and put her arm around her. "Hey, you did good." Eliza took the tazer from her weakening grip and slid it into a cape pouch. "Let's get out of her before "Dufus" wakes up." Eliza steered her in the direction she'd been walking. Rachel's efficiency apartment was small and cozy. Eliza handed Rachel her cape and she draped it over the back of the couch. "Pernod?" Rachel asked, opening a small, well stocked bar. "Sure" "I never cared for Pernod, but I had a friend that used to drink it." She sighed. "I got this for him." She held up the green bottle and gazed wistfully into it. "I prefer scotch and soda. I find that very refreshing." Time passed. They chatted about Rachel's Pernod friend, the guy that had not very successfully accosted her, work at the bar, music, and life in general. Rachel was stretched out, her feet up on an ottoman. Eliza was in bean bag chair, which she found surprisingly comfortable. She could see the pulse at the base of Rachel's throat. She pursed her lips to cover her budding fangs. After accepting her hospitality, and considering what she'd been through, Eliza didn't want to "violate" her. Violate? That was strange. Why did she think, "violate?" Eliza sunk into the bean bag chair and considered her thoughts and feelings. "I don't need this! I simply don't need this." She stood, pulled an afghan over the sleeping Rachel and quietly let herself out, locking the door behind her. On the street, she couldn't believe the area Rachel had chosen to live in. "This girl has got to have a death wish," she mused, looking around and not liking what she was seeing. An obvious drug deal was being concluded at the next corner, and a man and woman were not so quietly negotiating a "party" deal. It was late and the man knew that she really had the better bargaining position, but he was still trying to get the price down. A deep masculine voice behind her said, "You buying or selling, Short Stuff? You want to sell, you deal with me first. You're buying, get your business done and get out of here while you still can." Eliza felt a rush of rage course through her at the "Short Stuff" comment, but then she realized that there been no real hostility directed at her. Turning and looking up a the six foot six, basket ball player lean man, made her realize just how short five foot four is. An idea hit her as she gazed up at him. "I'm buying and I'm selling." She handed him a hundred dollar bill from one of her cape pouches. "Where can we talk?" It was five AM, now, and she felt really smug. She'd just solved two problems with one deal. Now all she had to do was keep her part of the bargain. The smell of the seedy apartment building identified as less than desirable. It was death quiet, a silence Eliza liked. Gripping the door knob of apartment 504, she used her strength to break the cheap door handle lock. Gently pushing, she let out a low expletive. There must be an inside dead bolt. The door moved about an eighth of an inch and stopped with a low metallic sound. She walked to the end of the hallway and there was a dirty window that creakily opened to an outside fire escape. She counted the doors from the window to apartment 504 and stepped out onto the rusty fire escape. Clinging like some large insect, or bat, to the weathered bricks, she made her way to the window she was interested in. She sighed. What were the chances it wouldn't be locked. She really wanted to do this quietly. Of course it was locked, but the lock had broken with minimal application of force and with almost no noise. She was inside. What she saw made her stomach turn. There was the naked decomposing body of a young woman crumpled in one corner of the room and the faint odor of beginning decomposition was evident. On the floor, bound and gagged, was another naked woman. Asleep or dead, Eliza wasn't sure, but there was her target. He was asleep on a dirty mattress. The weird bald patch on his head made identification easy. Licking the last of his cooling blood from his shattered neck, Eliza stood and prepared to leave. She stood and looked around to make sure she'd leave no sign of her presence when her eyes met the very frightened eyes of the bound, naked woman. Eliza's stomach churned. The woman was seeing a blood soaked vampire, fangs fully deployed, rising from the body of her latest victim. What must she be thinking? Eliza was not telepathic, but she was very sensitive to the emotions around her and this poor woman was radiating terror, pure unadulterated terror. Eliza sighed and went into the tiny, dirty bathroom. She rinsed the blood from her face, retracted her fangs, and tried to look presentable. She went back into the "living" room and smiled at the terrified woman. "You're going to be ok. The drugs he gave you are wearing off and you don't seem to be too badly injured." Her words had the desired effect. The woman was now looking more confused than terror stricken. Eliza spotted a pile of woman's clothing and hoped it was hers. She scooped them up and putting them next to the woman, she said, "Let's get you out of here before the others come." As Eliza worked on her bonds to free her, fear returned to the woman's eyes; but this time not because of Eliza but the thought of the "others" returning. Eliza sighed. This had been a crazy night. The craziest she'd had in years. She'd negotiated a "protection" contract for Rachel. In exchange, she'd killed a rival of the man she'd made the deal with. She'd saved a hostage, convinced her that she was an undercover agent and that the strange things she'd seen were due to drugs. She'd gotten her to take the next bus out of town, promising to never return and to never, ever, try hooking again. In fact, Eliza has suggested that she apply for work at a library. She grinned at that and wondered if she'd do it. She'd said she would, but who knows. At least she had a chance. A new start. That's more than many get. Eliza sighed, remembering the body in the corner. She would have no second chances. Neither would the bastard that had killed her. She'd made damn sure of that. She'd hurt him. In her anger at what she'd seen, she didn't bother to enthrall him. She'd simply tilted his head back and covered his mouth and nose with one iron hand and slowly ripped his throat open so that she could consume his blood. After the initial shock and pain, he'd stopped struggling and just made weird whimpering sounds. Maybe it was the shock, maybe it was the loss of blood, but she knew he got to experience every agonizing moment of his lingering death. She'd made it last as long as she could. She licked her lips and smiled. The dead girl may never know it, but justice had been served. ~~~~~ It was dark and more than a little chilly. Sofye wondered what on earth she was doing. She was on the side of a mountain, in the woods, climbing at one AM in the morning. She shook her head and tried to get her bearings. The moon was just a pale sliver in the dark night sky. The path she was on was clear, and even the dim light from the moon, with the occasional star that peeked from behind the light cloud cover, it was easy to follow. She needed to climb. She sighed and resumed her ascent. She was able to ascend with reasonable ease, with time to think about and consider her morning conversation with Otaktay. He'd met her at the chow hall, the way he always did, but instead of the classroom and meeting with the other students, they'd walked in the other direction, towards the edge of the lake. He seemed uncomfortable in her presence and she wondered what was going on. Nothing ever seemed to bother Otaktay. "Miss Sofye, " he'd started. He always called her Miss Sofye. She thought it sort of strange that a grown man would call her Miss Sofye, but he seemed to think it was appropriate and who was she to object? "Miss Sofye, you have a story to tell. Are you ready to tell it yet?" Sofye felt her stomach twist. What did he mean, a story to tell? Did he want to know what had happened? Did he want her to talk about that? Looking down, she kicked a pebble into the water. "Story. What story," she stammered. Otaktay hesitated. Turning to face her he said, "You have a troubled spirit. I feel your trouble. I feel your unease. The story wants to be told, you know. It wants to come out." Sofye continued to look at her feet. She scuffed her right foot in the dirt. "I don't... I don't... I don't know what you mean." He looked at her and shook his head and started walking. Sofye half ran to catch up with him and then walked along side of him. "I was hoping you were ready," he said. "But if you are not ready, then you are not ready." "I can't tell you," she blurted out. "I can't tell you. I just can't!" He nodded. "I understand. It will take some time. It's claws are into your soul and they won't let go." He'd sighed and they'd walked silently together, each wrapped in thought. Wrapped in remembrance of the morning's conversation, she wasn't paying enough attention to the path and suddenly found herself falling forward. Quickly catching her balance, she looked around, focusing on the reality of the moment. She shivered. That reality was that she was on the side of a mountain, alone, at one AM in the morning, climbing towards a destination, and not sure of her objective. This was "today's" class and Sofye always tried to do well in class. Suddenly aware of her surroundings, she realize she was nearing her destination. There it was, just as he'd said. It was a small log cabin, not much more than a hunting retreat. In the darkness, under the cover of pine trees, it looked eerie, but somehow inviting. Looking behind her, the way she'd come, she could hear the rustling of night creatures, the whistling and rush of the wind through the pine trees. She shivered, a chill suddenly creeping through her being, almost a premonition of what was to be. Marshaling her courage, she hurried to the door, and as he had stated, it opened easily and silently on well oiled hinges. She entered, leaving the door open to take advantage of the dim outside light. As stated, there was a small table and chair. A thick candle was in the center of the table. Removing a small butane lighter from her back pack, she lit the candle. With sufficient light, now, she closed the door and gratefully sat, resting her tired legs. She was sightly damp from the climb with slightly accelerated breathing, but the opportunity to relax was appreciated. Her hiking pack contained articles necessary to her comfort, including a canteen of water, some tea, and some jerky. She'd never really cared for jerky, but the trip up the side of the mountain, and the lateness of the hour had made her appetite much keener than she'd anticipated. She poured some water into the metal canteen cup and held it over the candle. A few minutes and the water began to steam. She added some of the dried tea that Otaktay had given her into the cup. As it seeped, the aromatic vapors filled the small room and sharpened her appetite. Setting the hot metal cup on the table, she reached into her pack and took out a jerky stick. Normally, she wouldn't even want to touch the greasy brown paper it was wrapped in, but tonight she had no such hesitation. Unwrapping it, she inhaled the pungent odor and felt her salivary glands go into overdrive. Ripping a piece of the tough meat, she chewed vigorously, softening the dried and energy laden treat. She was throughly enjoying. It was "appropriate" to her environment and situation. Removing her drinking cup from her hiking pack, she poured the tea through a small strainer into the cup. The flavor of the rich herb teat complemented the taste of the jerky and was very satisfying. Sitting in the rough cabin, eating a centuries old food and drinking a tea that had been brewed for as long as jerky had been being "jerked," she felt a connection with the past. She could visualize time as a ribbon of water which bore all life from birth to death, extending to the infinite past into the unknown future. Holding the warm cup in her hands, inhaling the spicy aroma, for the moment she was the river. The river was her. And for a brief moment, it all made sense and she understood. For the first time that she could remember, she felt part of something greater than herself. So used to being alone, so used to being lonely, the feeling of oneness that she was experience was strangely unsettling, but strangely comforting. She realized that she would never really be alone again. She took another bite of jerky and a long sip of tea, stood and walked out of the cabin and into the darkness of the night. Looking up into the windswept sky, dark clouds scurried across the sliver of moon, like mysterious rodents on the way to some unknown task. A chill wind swept over her, whistling in the trees and making her shiver, but she couldn't take her eyes from the mostly dark orb of the moon. Staring up at the moon, the night suddenly seem brighter and she felt her consciousness expand. Reaching towards the moon she could see the silver rays rush towards her, to her waiting palms, down her arms, encompassing her body with a cool silver presence, suffusing her being with a calm, strong sense of purpose. Time passed. Sofye, suspended in her reverie, was unaware of that passage. Her arms began to tremble. As she lowered them to her sides, fatigue washed over her. "Oh!" she thought. "I wonder how long I've been standing like this?" Shaking her head, she turned and walked back into the cabin. The candle had burned half way down, again, making her wonder how long she'd been standing out there. The tea on the table was cold. Pouring the tea back into the metal cup, she warmed it over the candle again. She poured it back into the drinking cup. The metal cup was too hot to drink from. Taking a welcome sip, she sat. Enjoying the aroma of the tea, she realized it was not what they usually drank, but it was good. Somehow appropriate for the moment. Taking another bite of jerky and meditatively chewing, she felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up. There was something behind her. She froze, afraid to move, but unable to not know, she turned. Through the open door of the cabin, she could see into the clearing. There were figures. Moving. They seemed to be preparing something. They formed a circle, and in total silence, they raised their arms and then lowered their arms and walked in a circle, rasing and lowering their arms. They were dressed in long, dark, hooded robes and were carrying staffs. All of them were very intent upon what they were doing. She could hear no sound. She could only see them moving, doing things, things she could not discern. She felt her stomach twist again, as it had this morning. This was not something she wanted to see, not something she wanted to be a part of. Sofye didn't want to know what they were doing, but she couldn't tear her eyes from the dark scene in front of her. The figures widened the circle. In the middle, rising from the ground, a tall figure appeared. He held his hands up, up to the same moon she'd just held her hands up to. She began to hear it. A low chant. A chant that called to her. Called to her being, not to her name. She tried to back up, bu her feet would not move. She felt herself take a step forward, another step forward, through the cabin door. Slowly, step by step, heading towards the center of the circle and towards the tall hood figure, she moved. The figures all turned to face her, parting so she could see and enter to the center of the circle. Enter and become one with it and with them. Faltering step followed faltering step. As she approached, she could feel the tension build. This was not where she wanted to be. This was not something she wanted to do. She tried to turn and run, but her body would not obey. Step by slow step, she could feel herself approaching the opening of the circle. She realized, that if she entered the circle, she would never leave and the Sofye that Eliza knew and loved, would no longer be. As she approached the circle, she could hear the low murmuring, and for the first time she could make out some of the words. "Family, family, family," she could hear muttered over and over. Words like "come to" and "part of" and "LOVE..... the.... family.... family, family, family, family." Over and over, a dull listless chant, saying "things," driving it into her mind, scarcely heard, but entering her being to produce the insidious effect. She stopped. The words seemed to separate and flow around her, no longer touching her. She glared at the circle. Something moved. The very air seemed to shimmer, shake, coil and draw in on itself. "No, no, no," she was repeating over and over. "NO, NO, NO!" She raised her hands and moonlight streamed down and surrounded her body. She could feel the silver glow radiate from her body, lighting the surroundings, glowing brighter and brighter. "No, No, No," she kept repeating. Lowering her arms, she pointed with both hands towards the circle. "NO!" she screamed. She felt as if her body and mind were exploding. Silver light streamed from her outstretched hands and coiled through the circle, surrounding all of the figures in the eerie silver light. They writhed in pain and one by one they coiled into tendrils of darkness, washed over by the silver light of the moon. One by one, they vanished as a greasy wash of dark smoke, leaving the clearing absent of their vile presence. Suddenly, she was alone, repeating, "No, no, no." Sofye looked up and saw the quarter moon. As she stared at it, it began to spin faster and faster until it was a glowing silver orb. She could feel herself being lifted. The sound of the wind in her ears and as the cool liquid moon silver washed her being, she knew no more. ~~~~~~~
|