“I’m not beautiful. I’m a wrinkled old lady.”
Tupuro manifested a mirror, and held it before her. He made her see herself as a young woman. “I . . . I . . . ” her lips quivered in her bent back position, face aimed at the sky.
Tupuro said, “Your relatives did not shun you for the scandal in your past. It was jealousy that made them turn against you.”
Tupuro took the mirror and made it disappear. He kissed Granny softly, then passionately.
Granny went limp, and he took her to the ground where he’d manifested a carpet of gardenia petals.
My work here was done. I smiled cruelly, and flew toward Volcano 21.
Diego appeared in front of me, flying backwards. “They are out of your way now,” he said.
“Take a bow,” I replied. “But what if Aruka and Tupuro turn the Shens against us before I complete my task?”
“They will try, but they will not have time, for you will most assuredly complete the deed before the Tazmarks can gain any decent momentum.”
“Why did you help the male Shen empower himself?”
“I didn’t.”
“You wanted him brought to Chile. Why?”
“I’d intended to use him as a pawn against Aruka by making him her assistant, but only to do my bidding. But it never got that far, and that is all I did. Another must have helped him.” Diego shook his head concerned, “I will investigate.” He disappeared.
Diego was apparently handling matters. I had to concentrate on mine. Suko would arrive soon, and Jenséa must defeat him, even in labor. She had too. Time was ticking away, and it was imperative I complete my task without delay.
Before I could reach Volcano 21, explosions sounded behind me. I turned to the noise. Light streaks gouged the black sky. Red laser beams and red lightning veins crossfired each other, while also crossfiring with blue electrical bolts and white light beams. White light beams? However, the blue bolts did not shoot toward the white light beams. Translated: Tazmarks fought each other. Jackaeels fought the Tazmarks but not the Shens. And the Shens fought only the Tazmarks. This meant the Shens had escaped Aruka and Tupuro. How? Where was Diego? What had happened in the last sixty seconds?
I felt the activity on Volcano 21 before I landed, a Dragon’s rumble, and Jenséa screaming, “johnny!”
I landed near her in Pericludies.
Suko was there, standing woolly mammoth big over Jenséa so small. Here in the third realm, his scaly hide of golds and oranges were dull, and his Dragon form was bumpier—something about third realm air. Moonlight accented the clean strip of spikes on his head, and rows of teeth in his grinning snout.
Jenséa had coated herself in Divine Light. Suko opened his jaws and blasted white fire around Jenséa’s light shield, encompassing her like a radiated dewdrop. It was a stunning sight, white on white. The white hot of hell lining the cool white of heaven, like scorching flames around a smooth, cool tear. Interesting that chaos and harmony in their purest forms, emitted white energy.
Suko stopped to inhale.
Jenséa bunched into a contraction, emitting a high-pitched keening. Her maternal instinct thickened into a golden glow, vibrating the energy of taking: taking refuge, taking protection, taking energy for her babes. The high-pitched keening lowered to a clear bold tone with opera singer intensity; it was the tone of the mighty mother’s roar of women everywhere to protect their young. And it chilled me.
Suko’s exhale did not bring fire. Instead, he moved forward with open alligator mouth pretending he was going to bite off Jenséa’s head. Jenséa’s tone of maternal protection intensified. She did not react to the rows of pointy fangs and jagged teeth closing around her yellow hair. Before his jaw snapped shut, she lifted her face and literally enveloped him in the tone.
Suko’s life force left him like smoke. His body shriveled and turned to a heap of dust. He had gone out not with a bang, but a whimper, most shameful for a Dragon.
I took a breath and stepped back, even though I was invisible. I had never seen a Shen do that before. Or maybe that was a Goddess thing. She had killed Suko so easily, just as Diego had indicated. The shock remained with me, and I was not easily shocked. Her power was immense, more than I could have believed, even though I had been told. Now that she had destroyed Suko, she was fully restored.
She rolled her head back and wailed, “I’m sorry!” With hands on belly protectively, she whimpered, “I’m so sorry, but these are my babies.” Tears washed down her face. “My dear babies.”
Her great compassion was still intact. My time was now. Soon it would all be over. Suddenly, she vanished into the seventh realm.
I trailed her from the sixth realm by her scent. She was flying slowly, probably unsteady from all that had occurred. She was moving toward Shen activity, evident by the potent gardenia scent further on in the direction she was going. I raced ahead of her to assess the situation. As I neared the Shens in the seventh realm, I felt grossly sickened.
Retreat was essential, but first I’d peek in clairvoyantly. On a pearly seventh realm cliff were Granny, Angel boy, and the good old, bad old—High Lama Khandro. It was he who rescued Granny and Angel boy from Aruka and Tupuro. And it was he who had been helping Angel Boy. I reached into my pocket. The ring was gone, the chalk drawing of Jenséa, gone!
And then a vision played in my mind of Granny when she fell against me in her cottage. She had cleverly swiped the ring and drawing of Jenséa. After I stormed off, she and Jenséa had summoned the High Lama Khandro with the ring, and sent him to Chili to tend and teach Angel Boy. Ah, it was also the High Lama Khandro who had tipped off Aruka to the change of plans that proclaimed me Dragon Ruler instead of her.
I clenched my jaw. Granny was never afraid to come here. In fact, she counted on me bringing her—all a trap set for me. A trap yes, but I did not believe Jenséa was a part of it. I hoped not.
Jenséa’s scent got stronger. She was almost to them. Sick as I felt, I hovered there and called telepathically, “Jenséa, my love!”
She stopped, suspended in seventh realm air. Telepathically she said, “johnny, they summon me. My beloved Shens call for me to join them. Come.”
“The light sickens me,” I answered.
“But they call me.”
“I call you! Your lover and father of your children.”
Suddenly, I felt cut off from her. I felt like she’d dropped. I looked down and saw her falling into the third realm, toward the ground, fast!
I swooped down into the third realm, and wrapped my arms around her ribcage, stopping her descent. Then I flew us back into the sixth realm, heading toward the beach. She was in a contraction, a hard one, and a bad one judging from the all-consuming expression of pain upon her face.
Just as the contraction ended, I landed us gently. I needed to keep her here in the sixth realm. It would be Shen proof, given no Tazmark gave them a ride. I doubted one would at this point, given all the confusion going on out there. Here, I could better do ‘the deed.’ But better for Jenséa to think we were in the third realm, so I cast a keep away spell to sixth realm creatures. The moon lit the land, giving everything a ghostly glow.
I set Jenséa on her feet. Her trembling hands brushed down my white billowy shirt and tight black pants, as she sank to her knees. She wrapped her arms around my thigh high boot, clutching hard. She sobbed, “johnny, oh johnny.”
I stared at the top of her head that bobbed lightly as she cried. I planted the thought in her that my body was third realm soft. I sent a visual in her head to see the outside world, lighter and brighter than it really was. It was a gentle planting, nothing invasive that might alert her to danger.
Then I planted in her mind that she would see me as what she would call, the johnny she knew. I willed her to see my third realm face instead of my vampiric sixth realm form. She would not view my fangs when I spoke, or my sharp black nails should my hand touch her.
I reached down, grabbed her upper arms gently, and pulled her u
p. I held her in warm embrace, staring out at the evening ocean. Grey-black waters stretched toward us like death. Red grassy sea plants floated loose on the waves, depositing the plants on the sand when the water rolled out. I glanced up toward the Draco constellation. It seemed to beam at me. Come home, I thought I heard it say, come home.
Jenséa whispered in my ear, “I am so afraid. I need Charlotte.”
“No,” I whispered back in her ear. “You need me.”
The washing tide assuaged my ears with imaginings of power yet to be mine. Soon it would be over: my immense struggle with beings of love and light, of wanting their approval, of wanting to integrate them into my essence. Soon, I would prove to myself that I could resist them, that I could erase even the purest from my path. I would prove that I was the mightiest Dragon ever.
Jenséa cried out, “Another contraction!”
I manifested a guanaco blanket, and sat Jenséa upon it. Her white woolen gown was soiled with sand and ash, and her sitting position looked clumsy. I moved behind her and sat with my legs on either side of her hips. I guided the back of her head to lean against my shoulder. I could take her now. I could do it . . . now.
Her body contracted hard; her head and knees moved toward her abdomen. Through held breath, she eked almost inaudibly, “johnny, I have to push. The babies are coming!”
I could destroy her now.
“The pain . . . johnny, oh the pain—” A long strained moan lasted the span of her contraction. Tears wet her temples. Then her body went limp, and her head fell back against my shoulder. Panting, she said, “I . . .can’t . . . do . . . this.”
“You can, Jenséa. Millions of females accomplish this feat, and you will be one of them.”
I should destroy her now.
Her legs pulled up again in another contraction. She shrieked, high-pitched. Her agony rose from her like nectar on a flower. I inhaled it, this residue of violence, as if by habit, as if this would be the last breath of her I would ever take, for soon it would be.
Her pain sank down in me like a rare sedative. I was tripping out on violence that created the new. Something else I had never experienced. Ah, the female species in labor, the fireworks that brought beauty, the rage that set the passive woman free, defiance that created new nations, volcanic eruptions making new land, nuclear explosions that educated the world, wars that promoted a surge of humanity, death that brought release. I had never viewed my role so blatantly beautiful regarding the absolute magnificence of what birthed after the destruction I’d caused. I was good. Hell, I was a fucking saint.
For a half hour, her pain fed me, and filled me. Her torture was my bliss. I’d kill her soon. Soon. There was time, time for me to drink this in.
Her sweat-soaked body was tiring.
She rambled hysterically, “I can’t take another contraction. I can’t bear it. It’s torture! Kill me, johnny. Tear the babies from my womb and give them to Randa, but kill me now!”
I could abide that wish. I could do it now. She even asked for it. It would be easy. She wanted me to kill her.
She balled up again. “Oh johnny! Something’s happening.”
I eased her back to lie on the blanket, and moved myself down to her retracted knees. I lifted her white wool gown up over her big belly. I stared between her opened legs at the exposed birth canal. A black haired head widened her cervix, and emerged. Lightning bolt thrill surged through me. I took the baby’s head and held it until she pushed again and the body came slithering out. My son. I mean . . . the it, was here.
I severed the umbilical cord near its naval with my teeth, and licked the membrane off the baby. My tongue washed over its face, bloody belly, and even the tiny fingers of its finned hands. I licked the baby clean, and ate all remnants of the birth. Then I surveyed the brown-skinned infant: its wrinkled body fresh, the most innocent little face, black swatch of hair on its head, and its thin-lipped mouth emitting a munchkin squeal.
I leaned over Jenséa, then rested the baby on her chest.
“My baby, my baby!” She wept, holding it against her, seemingly unaffected by the fact that I had licked the baby clean and probably had blood on my lips.
Her body bunched up again, and out slid a placenta. I barely caught it in time. I ate the sack of nutrition. Even a pumper was not so tasty. I was glad I’d experienced this before I killed her. When both babies were delivered and I ate the mess, I’d kill her then.
I wiped my bloody hands on my white shirt, and watched as she continued to push, groaning in agony. Such a labor of love. Such an indescribable turn on to see her suffer, not as a victim, but to deliver another into the world.
She pushed a few times. I waited for the head. Finally it came. After several more pushes, the body slithered out. I caught the slimy body, cut the cord with my teeth, and licked the newborn clean. She was a brown-skinned female, shining gold eyes, blue- black hair, finned hands, tiny fingers. I stared at her—or . . . it for a long moment. My daughter. I should feel nothing for it. Why did I? Why did I want to teach my children how to hunt, and seduce, and destroy?
“This one is a girl,” I said to Jenséa.
Jenséa wept with joy, reaching one hand toward her daughter while keeping a confirming hold on the boy infant.
I laid the fussing girl on Jenséa’s chest, and she wrapped her free arm around the little body. She was so beautiful laying there, holding her babes with tear washed face, and sweat-soaked hair. I’d never seen her so happy.
She balled up again. I got to her cervix just in time to catch the second placenta. I caught it and stuffed it in my mouth, chewing, swallowing, and smiling with a blood drenched face. I had never been so satisfied.
To retain the illusion of love, I magically cleaned my face, and moved to Jenséa’s side, sitting next to her. She was struggling a bit, holding two infants, so I took the girl infant into my arms, holding her face to my shoulder. She seemed surprisingly comforted.
The babies glowed faintly. Both were of Tazmark and Shen.
Jenséa said, “I . . . I think I’m supposed to feed them. Help me sit up. I need to remove this gown.”
I must destroy her now. Now.
Even as my head said destroy her now, I magically removed her blood-soaked gown, leaving her naked with scarlet smeared thighs. Pretty. I then slid behind her, still holding the girl infant. Jenséa’s head leaned against my free shoulder. She positioned the boy infant to her breast, and he latched on, sucking.
An interesting thing . . . this suckling, mother still giving her life-force to the wee one after birth.
The tide had pulled back and the dark sky began to lighten. With the sun coming up, Jenséa might suspect we were not in the third realm. Light was dimmer and darker in the sixth realm. And with all her new powers, I wasn’t sure how well my third realm illusion would hold.
Quen-tan’s voice commanded inside my head, Rid her from our worlds forever. Rid her now!
Battles played in my mind. Lifetimes condensed in moments. Visions of me flying with expansive blue-black wings into worlds guarded by Goddesses and guaranteed by Quen-tan to be mine. I impregnate many Dragons. I lick a thousand babies clean. My armies grow. I wreak chaos upon a thousand worlds. I grow larger and larger for all I consume. I become the terror of the universe. I venture into galaxies and beyond, mowing down harmony, annihilating peace, demoralizing all concepts of love. My visions reveal perpetually more to discover and conquer. And in my destructive path, remnants of life take root, and in the passing of millenniums, life flourishes. And when those worlds are bright again, very very bright and saturated in harmonic prosperity, I return and shake them up once more. Challenges abound. Creatures emerge that try to fight me—but always I win.
I sighed with powerful anticipation. This was my destiny.
I lowered my baby-filled arm gracefully and rested the infant gently, face up on the blanket near my thigh. Her gold eyes looked at me with liquid innocence, little arms and legs flailing slightly by my hip.
> My sights returned to the top of Jenséa’s head, tilted to the nursing baby. My hands glided around Jenséa’s neck with feigned affection. Then my fingers tightened with the feel of my future. Power lust coursed through me. Even my teeth ached good.
“I love you, johnny,” Jenséa said.
Words slipped, almost regretfully, “I must kill you, Jenséa.”
She said quietly, “I know, johnny. I know.”
I stopped breathing for a moment. I pushed her right shoulder down into me, turning her body somewhat in my arms so that I could see her face. “You know?”
“I’ve known of your plans to end me and the earth since you left me with my grandmother those eighteen days. She taught me much. And to her dismay, I did not use what she taught me in the manner she wished.”
I slid out from her, leaving her to lay flat upon the blanket. I took the baby from her breast. Its colostrum-wetted lips were still in a sucking position when I laid it next to the girl on its back. Together their little limbs flailed gently. I cast a spell for them to sleep, and they did almost instantly.
Jenséa just lay there tranquil and naked, with the chain of my dragon talisman framing one breast. She was open to me. Her Angel eyes—so pure, stared into mine—so savage.
I straddled her, leaning forward with my hands on either side of her head. My billowy white sleeves almost seemed like a cloud about her cheeks. I stared down into her eyes, my long black hair caving her face. “So, you have known all this time? Why didn’t you play me to my death then?”
“I love you, johnny.” Her receptive eyes were starlight potent. Her limp body beneath me seemed at peace, at peace with me. Her tone felt like water streaming over a reed. Her voice denoted neither urgency nor pleading, neither desire to sway, nor hope to conquer—no hint of fear, or anger, or resentment. There was only the chaste bestowing of words that tumbled from her lips. “I love you with the echoing chorus of Angels from all corners of space and time. Your flowing black hair is the velvet carpet that holds the stars, and I am your star. I embrace your essence that robs me of breath—for the agony you cause incites heroic challenge. The pain you inflict forces many to hit bottom, perpetuating a mighty rise. You torment those who scream to be reborn. You are free from the shackles of morality and the raging sea of all that claims morality’s children. For all your destructive ways, you create so much. In the name of unconditional love, I sacrifice myself to you.”
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