Midian Unmade

by Joseph Nassise

  Just a taste is all I need. A small snack to aid me in my journey.

  * * *

  Covered in layers of heavy garments that provided shelter from the sun, the prolonged journey to Shere Neck was arduous. I kept mostly to the heavily wooded area, but the sun continued to beat down on me like a taskmaster’s whip. The most demanding part of the journey was escaping the ruins of my home. Many came to put out Midian’s fires and deal with the scores of corpses. Most were to be buried by grieving families. The others were to be marveled over, dissected and studied on metal slabs.

  Who will mourn for them?

  I got to the farmhouse on Crandall Road just before midday. I found safety and shelter in a barn among the animals that I felt more kinship to than the ones that kept them. From the hayloft, I had a good view of the comings and goings at the front of the house.

  I was there when Daniel’s wife was given the news about her husband. It ate into my core to watch her falter and slump against the lawman who delivered the tragic news. She was an attractive woman, even when her face was distorted by agony and despair. Her name was Anna. It suited her.

  Eventually the man departed, as I’m sure he had more dire news to deliver to other families in the county. Anna stayed on the porch. She looked as though her life had vacated her body. A corpse cursed with the inevitability of having to go on living.

  I watched her for almost an hour. Unmoving, she had no more tears left in her body to shed. I truly am a monster.

  As the golden hour approached, a school bus pulled to a stop at the end of the long road and her beaming child exploded from the open doors. He looked to be no more than five years old. Running with the wild abandon of the young, he had no idea what grim news awaited his return.

  My heart raced as I prepared myself. I felt it might burst at this very moment. It would have been a fitting demise for my crime, but I was spared the scene as Anna embraced her son with such fervor and then carried him in her arms into the house.

  I hated myself for the feeling of relief that washed over me. I didn’t deserve to be spared this, but thank Baphomet I was.

  Lying down in the hay, I allowed myself to sleep. The events of the last twenty-four hours started to take their toll and my body, though strong, needed to rest.

  * * *

  It was many hours later when I awoke. I could tell by the placement of the moon that it was around ten p.m. Almost a full day since the siege and destruction of Midian. Its loss and the loss of my brothers and sisters were not real to me yet. My dreams saw fit to confuse me … trick me into thinking that reality was the dream.

  While I slept, my brain concocted fantasies of a thriving necropolis where the forgotten and unwanted lived in peace. So many happy nights secluded and sequestered from the outside world. Those thoughts stayed with me as I woke and clouded my mind with erroneous hope.

  It was the texture and smell of the hay bed that I slept on that brought me swiftly back to cruel reality. I openly wept. Not for myself, but for the others. The survivors. How scared they must be. Where are they now? Did Lylesburg save any souls and lead them to safety? I wonder if I shall ever see a familiar face again.

  Looking out at the farmhouse, I saw that all the lights, save the ones on the porch, were off for the night. The house appeared still. The only sound was the grunting and clucks of the animals I shared the barn with and the insect life that sang their night songs.

  Their melody soothed me as I initiated my Becoming.

  It’s a slow process, but there is no pain, just the ebb and flow of muscle and organs and the reshaping of my bones and cartilage. It always starts the same, with a tingle that surges through my body eliciting an orgasmic sensation. But after that, the physical alteration is always a new and unique experience. The process is never the same, especially when the known is human and in this case, a male.

  This time my barbs were the first to go. Softening, they melted and stretched to accommodate the extra skin. My breasts recessed, as they too were absorbed into me.

  My talons retracted as my hands traveled to my vulva still tingling from the initial surge. I gently caressed it as the delicate flesh moved beneath my hand, re-forming and extruding. I grasped the protrusion in my palm and coaxed the process along. It felt good and took me away from my cares for that brief moment.

  As my hands moved up to my chest, I felt the mass of matted hair soaked from my sweat. I always liked the feel of hair and it brought back happy memories of when I used to embrace Raven at night as a small child. She was coated with the softest fur and it kept me warm during the winter nights in the bowels of Midian.

  A few moments later and the Becoming was complete.

  I’m always a bit shaky for the first few moments when it’s finished, so I took my time getting up from the hay.

  Once on my new feet, I surveyed my latest form. I felt dense and heavy. My body was stiff with skin stretched tight over muscles. As I touched my re-formed face, I could only imagine that it was a perfect match for Daniel’s. There were no mirrors in the barn but I’ve never had a change fail and would be surprised if this one wasn’t as flawless as the ones before.

  I have read many of Lylesburg’s books about the human body and about the genetic codes that dictate their forms. I may have what the humans call a supernatural ability, but science is science and the genetics of my body are anything but fantasy.

  The moon and stars provided all the light I needed as I made my way down from the loft and out into the field that separated it from the house. I followed the dirt road that led directly to the front door.

  * * *

  I watched her as she slept. Anna. She was lovelier in person than her photograph did justice. Even though blindsided by tragedy, she slept serenely. As I inched closer, I discovered the origin of her peaceful slumber. A bottle of sleeping pills lay by her bedside. Still quite full, she had presumably taken only a dose to allow her to stave away the cruel news and allow her body to attain the strength it would need for the coming days.

  I gently sat on the edge of the bed. The side once occupied by her husband. I made no sound, but the pressure on the mattress was enough to stir her from her drugged slumber. I froze in place as not to frighten her.

  Her eyes fluttered open. Confusion on her face. Her bewildered brain further clouded by the sedatives. Neither of us spoke for what seemed to be several minutes. I could sense her brain processing the vision seated at the foot of her bed. Trying to work out the nonsensical nature of it all. A waking dream? Possibly. For reality held no rational explanation.

  I then broke the silence.

  “Anna,” I said as sweetly as a summer breeze. It’s always strange to hear my new voice for the first time and this one was particularly low and masculine.

  Her brow furrowed at the utterance of her name. She stared intensely at me. Studying me. Gathering data. She then did something quite extraordinary. Shaking her head, she lay back on her pillow and attempted to fall back asleep. Within a few moments, her breathing slowed and she was once again in blissful slumber.

  It was enough for the first night. I rose from the bed and exited the room. As I made my way to the front, I poked my head into the room down the hall. The sweet young boy slept like an angel.

  * * *

  I spent most of the next day in the barn with the animals. I remained in my new form, having already grown accustomed to it. I found out at a young age that I could stay in any outward appearance that I had known for extended lengths of time or indefinitely if I chose to. Once I had known the flesh of another, their body became one with mine and I could access them and become them as easily as one would change their clothes.

  However, I rarely stayed in an alternate shape for long periods, as I was constantly in fear of somehow losing my own identity. But that was purely a product of my own insecurities. I am who I am and have always been able to find my way home no matter who I become or how long I keep up the façade.

  I liked masquerading as Dan
iel. There was a certain thrill being this gender and size. He had a physical strength that I had forgotten I could wield even in my true form. I had become so beaten down by my life recently and allowed myself to become subservient to the tribe. It was entirely my own doing and I did not hold any of the Breed accountable for my lack of self-esteem or self-reliance. Maybe this time away from Midian and my own body would have a much-needed transformative effect on me. I suddenly felt a sense of renewal and hope that had escaped me for so long and I couldn’t wait for the day to wind down to be able to share that with Anna.

  I lay down to watch the outside activities from my hiding space. The hay was rough against my naked skin, but it reminded me how alive I was. I felt good and this feeling was physically manifested by my engorged and erect cock. I held the flesh shaft in my hands to feel its strength but I had no intention of bringing myself to orgasm, as I wanted to save that for her.

  Every now and then there would be some goings-on outside. Friends and family stopped by to offer condolences and bring food. The Shere Neck mortician stopped by to make funeral arrangements, which took far less time than I would have imagined.

  I was hoping to hear any shred of news about my exiled brothers and sisters, but none was forthcoming. Apparently they had disappeared into the night never to be heard from again. This did give me some comfort, knowing that they were still out there somewhere. I promised myself that as soon as I was finished here, as soon as I had made amends, then I would scour the land to find them. There were always whispers of the Nightbreed on the lips of those misplaced and abandoned by the world, so there was always a chance to be reunited.

  As the day wound down my excitement grew for my nocturnal visit.

  * * *

  The minutes felt like hours as I impatiently waited for the lights to go out in the far rooms, signaling that Anna had tucked her son into bed and then turned in for the evening herself. I then waited another hour just to be sure, before I emerged from my hiding spot and exited the barn.

  I must have smelled awful, having not bathed for over two days. I could even catch whiffs of the coppery blood smell that still clung to this transmogrified form. Fortunately there was a small creek nearby. I went there first to clean myself, letting the icy cold water cascade over me. It felt good. Revitalizing. I was wide awake for the first time in years.

  The frigid wetness clung to me as I journeyed back to the house. It helped to slow my heart, which was racing with anticipation. I entered through the front door and made a beeline to Anna’s room. I had no immediate plan, as I was going to let the night and Baphomet’s will determine the course of my penitence.

  In my haste, I swung open the door without giving forethought to anything other than to my own needs and desires. Fortunately Anna did not scream when she saw me standing in the doorway.

  She was not asleep. She wasn’t even in her bed. Anna sat in a chair by the window looking out into the night. A lit cigarette was gripped tightly between her fingers, but now threatened to slip from them as her mind went slack.

  What must have been going through her head, I can only imagine. There before her, the naked form of her now two-days-deceased husband stood glistening in the light from the moon.

  My first instinct was to run. But my feet held fast, frozen to the floor by a force far more powerful than Earth’s gravity. This remarkable woman stood up from her seat. Stubbing out her cigarette in an ashtray on the windowsill, she walked toward me. No trace of fear.

  “I thought I dreamed of you last night,” she said. “Those pills can do that.”

  I stayed still, almost hypnotized by her calm. The moonlight shone through her nightgown, silhouetting her body with white light. She was naked underneath and I could feel my penis bolster.

  “It is you, Daniel?” she asked. “You’ve come back to me.”

  She was mere feet from me. Reaching out, she touched my chest. My skin shuddered. Her hand moved to my face. Caressed it. “Say my name,” she insisted. “Like you did last night.”

  “Anna.”

  Her hand found mine and guided it between her legs. “Say it again.”

  I obeyed.

  She lay down on the bed and opened herself up to me. “I miss you.”

  I entered her. The sensation was indescribable. My cock was engulfed by a warmth that I have never known. Her hands grappled around me and pulled me deeper inside. There was an animalistic need in her that I struggled to match—a wildness to our lovemaking that would impress my kind. I never knew that the humans possessed this much passion … this I thought exclusive to Nightbreed couplings.

  When we were finished, my body was beleaguered and drenched with sweat. I lay beside her as we both stared up at the ceiling. It was as if this moment would cease to be real if we looked at one another.

  “I can’t stay,” I said.

  “I know” was her unemotional response.

  “Will I see you again?” she asked.

  “If you’d like. But only at night. Only for a few hours.”

  I rose from the bed and headed for the door.

  “Don’t let Tommy see you,” she requested. “He’s having a hard time.”

  “He’s a strong boy. Like his mother.” I don’t know why I said this. It seemed like the right thing to say to be comforting. I know I would have liked those words, had it been me on the bed. “Try and get some sleep.”

  I couldn’t bear to look back at her as I left for the evening.

  That night I transformed into a wolf and roamed the woods. The freedom I felt was exhilarating.

  * * *

  It went on like this for the remainder of the week, almost becoming routine. I would bathe in the creek and then join Anna in her room to quench our passions.

  She never questioned my identity nor asked for any explanation. My nightly visits were just accepted as a gift to a grieving widow. Over the course of these extraordinary evenings, I watched her come back to life and I, in turn, benefited from this most unusual penitence. I believed that I was making this right.

  But when would this end? I must have attained my salvation by now. But then why did I find it a near impossibility to stop?

  Every night I promised myself that this would be the last, yet when the sun set on the following evening, I found myself once again drawn to her bed. This woman truly cherished me. I could see it in her eyes as we made love. I had never felt desired like this before. I had been so lonely for so many years and now I wasn’t anymore. I felt safe in her embrace and it was a sensation I was in no rush to abandon.

  My selfishness stabbed at me like a dagger. Death by a thousand cuts. But it was a pain I could endure, because the few hours of bliss healed the wounds and made me whole again.

  But we are the instruments of our own destruction.

  I should have left. Apparently I am more human than I would like to admit. I sinned again and this was the sin of complacency. Baphomet abhors self-righteous satisfaction and for my crime of contentment I was to be punished.

  I had grown too comfortable. Too safe. Every night it took me longer and longer to leave Anna’s bed. This last night was especially passionate and I was so aggressive with my lovemaking that when I came, I expelled every last ounce of my energy. I was blissfully empty, body and soul. As I rolled onto my side of the bed, sleep came fast, too fast to stave off.

  Before I knew it, I was back in Midian. Happy times as a child. Playing. Racing through the underground labyrinth. Days of wild abandon.

  I remembered finding his room for the first time.

  I had been told to never enter, but I was a foolish child.

  His eyes were all I could remember. An infinite maelstrom of blackness and light. As if the universe itself dwelled within Baphomet’s eye sockets.

  Then there was his voice. It pounded its way into my head, each syllable a mallet strike. He imparted warnings. Admonitions to a foolish child. A sense of dread and foreboding cascaded through my core. Urine seeped down my leg as my bladder
went slack.

  My god cautioned that he is and will always be with me and that his laws are as severe and unyielding as the stones that mark the dead in the necropolis.

  As these reminiscences swirled within my psyche, causing fitful unrest, I felt an unkind sensation, as if my body was no longer in my control. As if Baphomet’s hands were re-forming me. Clay in his hands.

  The next thing I heard was screaming.

  It wasn’t my voice … any of them.

  My eyes snapped open. Anna was off the bed. Her face was a rictus of horror and dread. Confused, I reached out to her. Cruelly, the answer to her terror revealed itself. My scaled hands, spiked and taloned, stretched out before me. I immediately inspected the rest of my body as true despair washed over me.

  Tears welled up in my eyes. A fitting punishment.

  There was no point trying to explain to Anna. She would never understand. She needed to stop screaming. Baphomet forbid she wake up Tommy.

  * * *

  I closed all the shades before the sun rose. I’d be safe for now. After I dressed, I headed to Tommy’s room and woke him. He was groggy and needed some coaxing to get out of bed.

  After breakfast I sent him off to school with a kiss. I looked forward to his return.

  But there was work to do. A lot of blood to clean. A body to dispose of. And the weekend was coming soon. A perfect time for a boy and his mother to head out on a long journey together.

  There’s so much to tell him.

  RAPHAEL’S SHROUD

  Karl Alexander

  The night wind had set me down atop yellow pollen on the pines at Twin Lakes, left me unhappy and afraid. I couldn’t move without the wind, and the fucking sunrise already lit the top of the Sierras, changing me from all but invisible to iridescent. I find this annoying and wonder if it’s the end for me or the beginning?

  From the cabin below, I heard the black cat yowling. He was big and strong with a blaze of amber eyes, had a tail long ago broken at the end, but it was the utter despair of his yowl that got to me. I am a pushover for despair, having lived with it since the baptismal fires at Midian cremated me into a translucent rectangle of ash—a helpless shroud, yet a shroud filled with brain and purpose. Don’t disintegrate. Find a place for us.