Caught in the Devils' Hand

by Ruby Duvall

  “Why do I have to marry?” Her body was sinking in upon itself as sadness settled over her. Her face was turned toward a candle in the corner, the flame of which was steady in the still air.

  “Without black-haired members, blondies cannot force them to work the medicine fields and pay them a pittance in return. They do it to get cheaper medicine…only for that trivial reason,” Majo explained.

  “Is that why your family stopped doing it?” she asked softly.

  “We were highly criticized for it, but when we threw their reasons back in their faces, the village shut their greedy mouths…or so my mother told me, but that story was passed down in my family for at least seventy years. Who knows if it’s true or not.”

  Shumei rubbed her arms, her gaze falling away from the candle.

  “You should be going now. Your family is waiting for you, aren’t they?” Majo stood. Shumei hurriedly grabbed her medicine pouch and stood as well, facing the witch without looking at her in the eye.

  “The same order for next week will be fine, dear,” the older woman smiled, folding her hands together as if she were as proper as any other person.

  “Yes, madam,” she said, taking a couple of steps back toward the door.

  “Oh and Shumei?” the witch called, making her pause. “If you ever want me to touch your pretty breasts again, come by anytime. I can do that…and much more,” she grinned wickedly, passing one of her hands down her hip. Taken aback, Shumei could only stutter. She quickly flung the door open and made a hasty exit. The last thing she heard before shutting the witch’s door was her lilting laughter.

  She beat a fast pace to her next stop, severely confused. Majo had never done or said anything like that before. She had always been utterly kind, and her behavior today was totally out of the blue. Moreover, she couldn’t think of any reason why the witch would change her behavior.

  Her breasts still tingled even now, and her nipples throbbed. The embarrassment, she was sure, still colored her cheeks a bright red.

  The next four deliveries went by very quickly and without a problem. However, it was her last delivery of the day that still loomed in front of her. A nearby neighbor with the worst pock-marked skin she had ever seen had been regularly buying medicines to cure hangovers. He was a heavy drinker, which did not bode well for his family, and worse, his son was the infamous Akiji, who had pursued her ever since she was fifteen. She was never surprised to see a new bruise on the younger man’s face. She had heard that he was always getting into fights, though she had never seen this herself, and his supposedly aggressive behavior seriously worried her, especially if she were forced to marry him.

  Rounding the path she was on, she saw Akiji’s house come into view and looked around for any signs of him or his ugly father.

  Knocking on the front door and holding the packet of powdered medicine, she waited for someone to answer the door. It was almost a minute before anyone made noise inside, but Shumei was patient with this delivery. She usually had to wait anywhere up to five minutes for someone to answer the door. When the rickety wooden door was abruptly pulled open, she was rather glad that it was Akiji’s father and not Akiji himself.

  It was obvious that the man had a hangover and had been sleeping until a minute ago. Where his wife was at this hour, she didn’t know, but she could guess that the woman was filling in for her husband in the crop fields until he could pull himself out of his drunken stupor long enough to go do his own work.

  “What do you want?” he grumbled moodily.

  “Your medicines, sir,” she said simply. She meekly held out the cloth bag since it seemed that he was not in a good mood. He thought for a couple of seconds, rubbing his bumpy face, and then told her to wait for a minute. He disappeared inside his darkened home and came stumbling back with his two-kol fee. Slapping the two rectangular pieces into her hand, he grabbed for his medicine, snatching it from her hand. She brought her hand back to her body quickly just as he abruptly slammed the door in her face.

  Sighing, she placed the money into the only other bag in her medicine pouch, which now held the day’s earnings of exactly fifty kols. About half of the amount would go toward meals for her family this week, and another fifteen kols would go toward firewood since they had neither an axe nor the strength to go chop their own. That left ten kols, eight of which were from Majo’s tip, for Shumei’s use. She decided to take the witch’s advice and use them for a pair of shoes.

  Now heading home, having been gone for only ninety minutes, she turned to walk around the hut in the direction of her own home. Rounding the corner of the hut, she nearly jumped in surprise to see Akiji standing there, his arms folded and his shoulder propped against the wall of his father’s home.

  A wide smile was on his face, and a fresh bruise was on his left eye.

  “Shumei! I’m so happy to see you this…fine morning,” he said a bit lamely, seeing as how the morning weather was not fine at all.

  “Did you get into another fight?” she asked without inflection, having recovered from her shock. She made to walk around him, and he caught her arm in a strong grip, though he held her without excessive force.

  “You always misunderstand me,” he said, his voice soft. Compared to his father and most of the men in the village, Akiji was very good-looking. Fair skin, large, blue eyes, a strong jaw and a fine figure. His sandy brown hair was cut short, though it curled a bit.

  However handsome he was, she held absolutely no feelings for the man, not even any sort of physical attraction. According to others’ opinions of his temper and her own experiences with his bullying nature, she had the strong feeling that his future wife would undoubtedly have her own share of bruises.

  “I misunderstand nothing. Please let go of me,” she told him, attempting to jerk her arm out of his grasp. “My family is sick, and I cannot waste time here with you.”

  “I merely wish to know if the leader and his wife told you this morning of my marital intentions toward you,” he asked, his hold on her arm remaining steadfast.

  “They did. Now let me go,” she said, trying to break free once more.

  “But what of your answer? Will you be my wife, Shumei?” he asked earnestly, pulling her closer to him.

  “I did not finish talking with the leaders this morning due to my urgent business at home. I will not have an answer until that discussion is over,” she stalled, not wanting to say outright that marriage to him had no chance of happening.

  “That you know of my intentions is enough of a discussion, Shumei. I love you and want to marry you!” he vehemently declared, though his voice nearly broke on the last word.

  Akiji felt his confidence slipping away. He knew that the leaders would be speaking to Shumei this morning since it was her delivery day. He woke up this morning so hopeful despite the new bruise on his face. Surely, he thought, his long-standing love for her would be rewarded that day with the promise of her hand in marriage. He wanted her so badly, and in more than just a marital way.

  He wanted her in a very physical way.

  Even now, he wanted to bend her over the bales of hay behind his house, throw up her skirt and slam his cock into her body until they both screamed their pleasure. He inhaled slowly, his manhood beginning to answer his lustful thoughts, and he barely caught her vehement answer.

  “But I don’t love you, and I never will,” she answered, having given him similar answers countless times over the past several years. She hoped that he would let it go at that, but she watched with growing trepidation as his jaw hardened. Then suddenly, he clamped her against his wide chest, his powerful arms crushing her against him and making her gasp in surprise.

  “You’ll come to love me, Shumei. I know it!” he supplied, pulling her even closer to his body. “When you feel our first son growing in your womb, you’ll realize how much we love each other,” he whispered, his mouth hovering over hers as if he would kiss her. Fighting her way free of his grasp, she stumbled a couple of steps away, keeping h
im in her sight and clutching her medicine pouch to her chest again.

  “Why is everyone after me today?” she asked rhetorically. She relaxed when she saw confusion come over his face, and straightened from the defensive pose she had taken when she saw that he didn’t plan to come after her again. “I’ve answered your questions. Let me leave in peace,” she said tiredly, turning her back to him and walking toward her home. He let her go this time, though she did hear him quietly call her name as she left.

  During the couple of minutes it took for her feet to carry her home, Shumei’s mind was whirring with thoughts. Who knew that turning twenty would be such a rocky experience?

  Leader Kimen, who had on a few previous occasions tried to get her to do that mysterious something that couples performed, was stepping up his efforts as of today. Then there was Majo, who before had been like an older sister to her, albeit an intimidating one. Now she was also acting strangely, touching her breasts in a very familiar way and offering her “much more”. Lastly, there was Akiji, who had always pursued her as he had today, but now he was trying to obtain her hand in marriage rather than steal a kiss, a few of which he had successfully stolen, much to Shumei’s dismay.

  With her birthday only a couple of months away, she felt that a new and foreboding doom was looming in the distance. Something in her life was about to seriously change. Whether or not she would like that change, though, would be a surprise in the end.

  Chapter Two

  Oka would not live through the night if his fever weren’t brought down. Shumei felt his forehead again and looked at her mother, shaking her head to indicate that the fever still hadn’t broken. Her mother was now lying on her side, awake but still very sick. Next to her, the pot where they normally cooked meals boiled silently over a small fire, steeping the last of the Cooling Butterbur they had at the hut. She only hoped that the herbs were still fresh. When she had dumped them in, the normally pungent, earthy scent was much too stale for her liking.

  “Sister…too hot,” her brother moaned. She patted his shoulder comfortingly, blinking rapidly against tears that stung the backs of her eyelids.

  “Stay quiet, Oka. Let your body fix itself,” she quietly ordered, brushing the hairs away from his forehead.

  “I think it’s ready, baby,” her mother weakly called from her mat. Shumei stood, walking over to the pot and lifting the lid. She stood back as the fetid stench rose to her nostrils and looked at her mother in dismay.

  “The herbs are too old, mama! And we don’t have any more of them here!” She glanced over at her brother, who had tossed to his side when she wasn’t looking.

  She couldn’t lose him, not like this.

  “Can’t you fetch some from the field, baby?” Shumei bit down on her lower lip, stifling what she was going to say. It was becoming quickly obvious that her mother was losing touch with reality due to the sickness, or else she would have noticed the time of day. The sun would set in half an hour, and the field was half an hour’s walk from the village. Leaving now was risking suicide, but Oka would die if she didn’t get the medicine he needed.

  She berated herself for not going earlier while the day still had plenty of sunshine to spend. The heavy gray clouds had blown away mid-morning, revealing a warm spring sun that dried the paths in only a couple of hours. She had seen that their supply of butterbur was very low while cleaning up during lunchtime, but she was too intent on staying near her family to go out for another two hours and fetch more of it.

  Now Oka would most certainly die without it. If she wanted to save him, she had to risk herself.

  She had to go to the medicine field…or die trying.

  Nodding to her mother, she stood up and reached for the empty basket on the rickety shelf against the wall. Her mother lay back down, closing her eyes as if she hadn’t a care in the world. She stood there a moment longer, praying for her mother’s life, for no amount of Cooling Butterbur would help her chances. Shumei only hoped that the Divine One would spare her mother tonight, that He wouldn’t take her so soon after their father had passed.

  Turning, she stooped down next to Oka long enough to kiss his forehead before pushing aside the reed door and exiting. Though she saw one person walking in the far distance, probably on his hurried way home, no one was about. Too many people were sick and it was too close to sunset. Not needing to hike up her skirt since it was already too short, she began to run down the familiar path toward the medicine field—after all, she might make it there and back if she cut her travel time in half.

  Passing under the barrier charms, she felt her heart rise to her throat as she ran from the safety those charms promised. At even intervals around the village, tall poles were positioned with a single string connecting all of them at the top. From the string hung small wooden blocks with prayers etched into them by the priests at the local temple. When strung in a complete circle, the prayers formed a barrier that evil couldn’t cross. A similar circle of prayers was staked around the medicine fields, but there were no prayers to protect her along the way.

  The path, once it left the barrier charms, quickly turned steep and slippery. She and her family took the path twice every day but it was always covered with loose soil, black with nutrients and soft enough to make walking difficult. Running was dangerous.

  She thought of Oka’s life on the line as she ran, scrambling up the abrupt hills and then rocketing down the other side. Thoughts of the impending sunset kept her legs moving, even as her lungs burned as if they would explode. Passing through a large clearing, she kept her eyes on the small space in the tree line that showed where the path continued, not trusting herself to check the level of the sun for fear that she would turn around and run back. Her chest was heaving with strain as she leapt over a thin, meandering stream, only a couple more minutes away from her destination. For a brief moment, sunlight hit her body through a break in the trees, and then she dived into the woods again as she left the stream behind.

  Finally, she arrived at the field, uncertain of how long it took her to get there, but she wasted no time. Finding a patch of the correct herbs, which her mother had planted at the beginning of the season in a patch of half-frozen earth, she began to take the matured plants, placing them quickly but carefully into the basket. It would be enough for several families, and she knew that several would come to the door that night, looking for medicine. She glanced at the sun only a couple of times, feeling safe as long as the setting rays hit her body.

  By the time the basket was full, though, the sun was already below the tree line and a few minutes from being completely gone. The ghostly full moon was showing its pale face over the eastern rise of trees, heralding the coming of night, and the evening star shined brightly at her as if warning her to hurry. Tears streamed down her face as she stuffed the last plant that would fit into the basket. Her heart was racing, and she was starting to feel more afraid for herself than for her family.

  Why did everyone fear the night? Because of the monsters…

  Once the sun sank below the horizon, other things rose to greet the night and they certainly weren’t stars. Shumei had heard that the most powerful monsters could come out into the daylight, defying the Divine One, but everyone dismissed this as mere rumor. Parents told their children stories of these monsters and warned them to stay inside at night. Walking to another hut under the moonlight was considered to be the most you could do, and even then, you had to keep an eye out because no one knew exactly how well the village’s barrier charms worked.

  Born out of Oblivion and evil to the bone…

  Demons.

  As surely as there was a Divine One and a Damned One, there were demons to prey upon humans. These creatures ate children to gain power and drank the blood of adults to quench their hunger and they were always hungry. It was a by-proxy war between the Golden One and the Dark One, a battle between humans and demons, though Shumei thought that demons had an unfair advantage. Most humans, she guessed, couldn’t win a one-on-one
fight with one of them.

  Shumei glanced around the edge of the field in anxiousness, hastily grabbing the handle of her basket. Forcing her sobs down her throat, mostly in a vain effort to keep quiet, she launched into a run back the way she came. Normally, the woods seemed peaceful during the day. She usually didn’t even think of the horrid monstrosities that prowled the forest at night, but now, she feared that one of them was watching the path, hoping to snatch up a wandering soul.

  There were many stories of different kinds of demons and the ones that had always held her morbid interest were of demons that ravished women as their source of energy. They were said to be sinfully beautiful—not out of vanity, of course, but as a means of ensnaring new victims. This type of demon whisked away a young woman and fed off her energy for as long as her spirit lasted. The dead body of a missing girl supposedly showed up a few months after she had been taken.

  Shumei could not help but wince at how painfully parched her throat was becoming. It made breathing an agony and she was feeling faint from the lack of water. Thankfully, she would once again cross the thin stream on her way back and though she had skipped it on the way to the field, she knew she would have to stop there for a few precious seconds to catch her breath and relieve her thirst.

  It seemed forever until the stream appeared before her. When she skidded to a stop at the muddy bank, she collapsed to her knees, letting the basket land next to her. Sucking in breaths of air, she leaned down and scooped up water within the bowl of her hands, greedily slurping it and ignoring the fact that the tips of her sorely tangled hair were getting wet as she leaned over the water. She didn’t want to wait too long and planned on waiting only ten more breaths before continuing on.

  Wiping her open lips and still taking large, shuddering breaths, she counted as the number of breaths she had left to rest all too quickly began to run out.

  A soft sound to her right drew her attention and her head whipped to the side as her hand shot to the handle of the basket. Her other hand shot to her chest, pressing over her heart, which felt like it was going to burst.