by Jeff Gunzel
* * *
“I don’t care what he thinks, I’m going after him,” said Jade, pacing about nervously.
“No, dear, you’re not,” said Nima, calmly sitting back in her chair. She wore her long, black hair down today. It nearly hung to her waist. With a flick of her head, it swung back around her shoulder. “The Shantie Rhoe asked that you stay here, and that’s exactly what you’re going to do.” Jade shook her head in disgust. “Besides, Eric was never in any danger. I heard the assassins sorely underestimated him. He would have killed them all easily had the guards not arrived when they did. My dear, you must calm yourself. Everything is alright.”
“He wouldn’t know danger if it bit him on the ankle!” Jade exclaimed. But she knew better than that. Eric was always cautious and rarely acted without thinking things. The only time he became reckless was when it came to protecting his friends or the innocent. On those occasions, he became quite unpredictable. “Oh, you know what I mean. An attempt was made on his life, yet he does not allow us to protect him. He walks out unguarded in the open while we sit here doing nothing! He—”
“He is protecting you, my dear,” Nima interrupted. “His orders were clear, and I plan to make sure you don’t go anywhere, even if I have to chain you to the wall.” She nodded to herself as if agreeing with her own assessment.
“Eric can take care of himself,” mumbled Jacob from the corner. He lay on his mattress face down, with a blanket pulled over the back of his head. “If you two would stop worrying about the mighty Gate Keeper so much and start thinking about...” His voice trailed off.
Jade walked over and sat on the edge of the bed. She reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I know you miss her, Jacob. We all do. I would do anything to bring her back, but she’s gone now. ”
Jacob shrugged her hand away. “You say that like you actually mean it.”
“I do mean it, Jacob. But there is nothing anyone can do for her now. She is gone, and our focus must shift to Eric now. We have a responsibility that must be honored.”
“You speak as if she’s dead,” he grunted, kicking back the blanket. “Well, I for one have not given up hope. I’ll find her and bring her back.”
“You’ll find what and bring who back?” said Nima.
Jade winced at her insensitivity. Jacob only stared at her, his light blue eyes blank.
“If you were to actually find her again, you would not recognize the beast before you. And more importantly, she would not recognize you either. More likely than not, she would tear you limb from limb in a state of animalistic rage. Is that your brilliant plan, Jacob?” Nima said.
His expression never changed, yet his eyes began to moisten. “I see,” he said, voice cracking. “So it is best to abandon our friends when they need us most. Very well, I won’t ask for your help.” He picked up his staff and headed towards the door. He looked back at her. “May the gods smile on you. Pray you’re never in need of a friend.” He left quietly.
Jade moved swiftly towards the door. “Let him go,” said Nima. “Sooner or later he’ll see reason. And let’s hope it’s sooner rather than later.”
Jade stopped in her tracks, her hand still reached out towards the door. She turned back slowly, her eyes unable to mask her anger. “How dare you speak to him like that?” she hissed. “You know his heart is broken, yet he still pushes on. He clings to hope by a thread.”
“He clings to a fool’s hope,” said Nima, her voice even and cold. “Jacob grasps at a dream, and like a dream, it will slip through his fingers like smoke.”
“That is how you show support for your friends?”
“He doesn’t need support, or coddling, or any other sense of false comfort used to soften reality. He needs to be told the truth, and that is exactly what I did. The sooner he accepts it, the sooner he can move on.”
Jade moved in close, their faces nearly touching. “What if it were Amoshi out there? What if everyone told you he could not be saved? Would you accept that reality? Would you sit here and do nothing?”
Nima’s mouth worked wordlessly for a moment. Jade’s stare penetrated right through her soul. “B-But it’s not the same,” she mumbled. No longer able to bear those accusing eyes, she looked away.
“What if it were Eric, or me? Tell me, Nima, whose life do you value higher? Which of your friends is worth saving and who is to be sacrificed?”
“That’s not fair,” Nima croaked. She was clearly shaken by Jade’s accusations. “No one has ever returned to their former selves once the seed takes hold. No one! You question my reasoning without understanding the nature of the problem. I feel for Jacob—for all of you. But all the efforts in the world can never bring back the dead, no matter how much you wish it so.”
Jade sighed, her angry glare melting away. “No part of this journey has been fair, but we didn’t get this far by giving up.” She glanced back at the door where Jacob had left. “No matter what you say, I will support his ambition.”
Chapter 5
The putrid stench of rancid water and reptile waste hung heavy in the dense, foggy air. A thick, greasy film coated the brownish-green water. Rings of red and blue emanated out from the center. Subtle waves slightly disrupted the surface film while dark shadows moved back and forth beneath the filth.
A tiny bubble broke the surface, followed by another. Slowly, a black snake’s head rose up through the filmy surface. The cobra’s red tongue flickered about, probing the air suspiciously. Its black hood fanned out angrily, hissing displeasure.
The snake froze when a pair of soft hands rose up from the filth and caressed its thick, scaly body. Moving up the snake’s body, the hands gripped the creature’s hood, holding it fast. The snake hissed again, baring white fangs dripping with venom.
Morita’s head slowly emerged from the murky water, her bright red hair slicked back. Saturated with greasy muck, it clung tightly to her neck and shoulders. Her body broke through the surface, her impossibly long tongue riding up the belly of the snake as she emerged. She savored every delectable inch, relishing each individual scale before reaching the head. The snake hissed angrily, objecting to being fondled this way. She hissed back, then thrust the snake’s head deep into her mouth. It thrashed and bit the inside of her cheeks repeatedly, each venom-inducing bite causing Morita to moan softly. She sucked hard on its head, like a greedy child who refused to share her candy.
The perverse game went on for several minutes before she finally pulled it free with a popping sound. It writhed in her hand, desperate to get away. “Fine then, have it your way,” she said playfully. After a final kiss, she reluctantly released it. It fell back into the sludge then slithered away, unseen beneath the slimy surface.
Morita moved leisurely through the toxic pool, each step revealing more of her body as she neared the edge. Her yellow eyes gleamed with delight. Rejuvenated by the toxic cocktail of poisons and disease, she stepped out of the water. A thin, oily film coated her naked body, making it glisten in the dim light. Tiny gills on the sides of her neck pulsed open and closed one last time before sealing themselves shut. Her forked tongue slipped out between her blood-red lips. Long and thick, it fell well below her neckline before folding back upward. Like an extra limb, she used it to further slick back her greased hair.
It’s been years since I’ve felt this free—this alive. Her soft hands slicked down the sides of her oily body, then slid back across her flat stomach. That fool can no longer stifle my ambitions, the greatness I’m entitled to. Once and for all I have been liberated of his ignorance. One hand moved downward between her legs, swift and eager. I answer to no one. She began to rub herself aggressively, her hairless groin burning from the friction.
For a moment, Morita considered leaving the room and grabbing one of the servants to aid her. Perhaps that lovely dark-haired girl who dusts the lighting. But there was simply no time. Her urges were too great. Her passion too intense. Morita aggressively rubbed her breasts with her free hand, moving them
in tight, hard circles, pulling with a vise-like grip. Had her body still been human, they would have surely ripped away.
As her self-penetration continued in endless, aggressive thrusts, her thoughts began to alter. Morita slowed down before pulling her fingers free from inside her. They glistened with wetness, both from her body and what still remained from the oily water. Her mind still lusted as it had before, but only in a different way now. Thoughts of endless power danced through her head, notions of her inevitable immortality. These concepts of dominance were no less arousing.
Morita’s lips pulled back and her yellow eyes bulged, the deranged expression falling somewhere between a snarl and a smile. She began to scratch away her chest, each pass of her fingernails sounding like a tree branch being broken in half.
She could see it now, clear as day, the mighty Gate Keeper down on his knees before her. The unconscious strokes across her chest came faster and faster. There were thick, black chains wrapped around his neck and body. Naked and helpless, his knees sank down into the soil. Morita continued to claw away at her chest, thin rolls of skin collecting underneath her long fingernails. Blood ran freely down her front; scratching, clawing, the prickling itch simply could not be satisfied. He begged for his life, wailing and moaning like the sniveling coward that he was. On his hands and knees, he pleaded for forgiveness, amnesty that would never be given. Scratch...scratch...scratch. Her already heavy breathing increased from excitement, blood flowing from numerous deep cuts.
Without warning, a thin golden line slashed the air before her. Morita leapt back, startled by the sudden interruption. It hung there a second or two before extending. It opened up into a shimmering golden hole hanging in the air. Her jubilance and lust vanished instantly, replaced by terror welling up inside her. She backed away until she could go no further, her back pressing against the cold stone wall. Attempting to cover her naked body was the last thought on her mind.
A tall man clad in white stepped through. His drooping hood and long, flowing robe rippled violently as if caught in a windstorm. When the glimmering hole snapped shut behind him, his robe stopped flapping. Even with his face covered, Morita could feel his eyes burning into her; could feel his vile thoughts. This creature’s mind was as dark and broken as any she had ever known.
“My-My lord,” she stammered nervously, bowing her head, then dropping down to one knee. “I was not expecting you. But-But no matter, you are most welcome.” He said nothing. Still as death he stood there staring, evaluating, judging her—or so she felt. Her terror was growing by the second, filling her gut, threatening to consume her. She had a mind to flee for her life, but where to? No, she needed to control her emotions. With an extreme effort, she forced down the building panic and steeled herself. Morita rose to her feet, still making no effort to cover herself, and slinked towards him. Each forced step was a chore, but she could not let the fear overwhelm her. She moved in close, her firm breasts pressed against his chest. “And to what do I owe this great honor?” she whispered, peeking under the low-hanging hood.
The man in white slowly raised and drew back his hood. As he did, his loose sleeves rolled away, revealing the charred black markings burned into his arms. His long, dark hair was slicked back across his head, flowing down his back in a single loose braid. Soft brown eyes bore into Morita as he stared at her, still not saying a word.
She moved her hands up his arms, feeling the rough, sandy scars, before locking her fingers around the back of his neck. Morita’s long tongue slipped underneath his collar as she pulled him closer. Covered in a white, slick film, it swiped back and forth across his chest, leaving behind a sticky slime. Keeping his eyes focused on hers, her tongue rode up the side of his neck, across his chin. “I am yours to command, my prince of the shadow,” she hissed like steam seeping from a lidded pot. “I live to serve any and all of your needs.”
Morita pressed her mouth hard into his. When he remained unresponsive, she began to work her lively tongue between his lips, prying them apart as she worked her way in. Caught up in the moment, her raging terror had now subsided. If the madman’s plan was to kill her, she would already be dead. Besides, he was still a man of sorts, and must have the same needs as any other man. Certainly he could be...influenced.
Determination replaced her last bit of fear as her snakelike tongue worked the top of his mouth. Her long nails dug deep into the flesh of his back. I am the one in control here, she thought to herself. But deep down inside, she wasn’t so sure. All her abilities had been given to her by this...creature, a mirror image of the Gate Keeper himself. His godlike abilities remained a mystery to all. A blessing? A curse? No matter, his power was plenty real, and only a fool would cross the unpredictable being.
Their agreement had been simple enough. In exchange for her abilities, she had simply been asked to obey—an easy decision at the time for both her and her brother. He even transformed their troublesome father into something a little more harmless, yet retained his usefulness. But now there was the little inconvenience of keeping up her end of the bargain. These abilities—a curse, some fools might claim—were not free, and the debt needed to be paid—a drawback that had slipped her mind completely.
With her lips still pressed to his, saliva ran down both their chins. She mumbled, “Everything I do,” her lips mashed further into his, “I do for you. With me by your side, no one can stop us.” She pulled back for an instant, her lower jaw coming unhinged like a snake. She lunged back in, hissing. Greedily, her teeth sank deep into his neck. He hardly seemed to notice, still staring off at nothing. Blood ran freely down the side of his neck. “I am your loyal servant,” she slurred with her mouth full of skin and blood.
She felt a fist tighten around the back of her hair. Her head snapped back, suddenly forced to look up into those gentle brown eyes—gentle eyes that belonged to an innocent child, not this unpredictable madman. “You are loyal to me?” he said softly, eyes crossed slightly as if focusing on something off in the distance. She reached back to touch the fist clenching her hair, but thinking better of it, pulled up short. Best not to resist. His eyes came back into focus and resettled on Morita, now having a glittery golden hue to them. “Loyal to me, as you were to Zhou?” All the fear came rushing back into her like a raging river. Panic flooded through her veins.
With what seemed like a gentle flick of his wrist, Morita flew through the air like a leaf on the wind. She crashed against the far wall, then slid down to the floor. The jarring impact shook her to her core. Winded and shaken, she found herself being hoisted off the floor again. How had he gotten there that quickly? Lifted off the ground by her neck, her feet kicked in the air helplessly. She struggled for air, looking down on the madman holding her up like she was weightless.
“I…did it…for you!” she gasped, using the little precious air that still seeped through. Tiny flaps on her neck began to open and close urgently, trying to bring in air even though they were useless out of the water. “He-He was a…a liability and…and couldn’t be trusted.” She wrapped both her hands around his thick wrist, pulling with all her might. Moving a mountain would have proved easier. Her kicking legs now slowed to a shaking quiver, toes spread out wide while black spots began to cloud her vision.
Like an iron vise cracking open, his grip released, spilling her down to the stone floor. Rolling to her back, she breathed in the precious air one deep gasp at a time. For a moment she considered crawling her way back into the rejuvenating filth. That would at least allow her to use her efficient gills to pull in even more air. But she thought better of it. It might appear too much like an escape attempt, and the last thing she wanted was to further enrage this lunatic.
“Agreed,” he said with a shrug, before turning his back to her. Relief washed over Morita. Her short, rapid breaths began to slow and she sat up, hand pressed to her chest. “The beast was never to be trusted, only used. I was going to dispose of him myself when he was no longer of any use to me.”
“Yes...y
es,” Morita agreed hoarsely between wheezing coughs. She slithered towards him like a reptile, elbows pulling her along the damp stone, frayed strands of red hair clinging to her face and lips. “He was a danger to our plans. Now we don’t have to worry about—”
“The beast was never any danger to my plans,” he roared, turning on her once more.
She stopped crawling and lowered her forehead to the cold floor. She should have known better than to allow her confidence to grow, or to even consider reasoning with the madman. It was always best to just agree, whether or not he was making any sense.
“And I said I would dispose of him when he was no longer any use. Though rash and reckless, he was most certainly formidable. I can always use someone like that. He still had a role to play, yet you acted on your own,” he accused.
“I took initiative,” Morita murmured under her breath. She boldly raised her head from the floor and met his gaze. “Could you have continued to control him? Probably. But that isn’t good enough for me. I leave nothing to chance, and I make no apologies for my actions.” Morita had never felt so small. It took all her self-control not to tremble as she lay there on the cold stone, like a worm that had crawled from the ground at the first spring rain.
He held her gaze for several minutes, his face unreadable. Then, without warning, he burst into mad laughter. With both arms wrapped around his midsection, he cackled away, shoulders hopping up and down with laughter. He spun away again, hands dropping to his knees. Then, as fast as it came, he stopped suddenly. The humor was gone from his eyes now. Nothing there but confusion while he mumbled to himself, eyes crossed and head tilted slightly. Suddenly, his harmless mumbling turned heated. He began to argue with no one. Teeth bared in an angry snarl, he bickered with an unseen force, fists clenched and knuckles turning white.
Morita watched in awe, unable to move, unable to speak as the spectacle continued. Should she be relieved his focus seemed to be a million miles away, as opposed to being on her? Was this her chance to run? No, there was no running from him. Her best chance was to lie here, appearing weak and obedient.