PrimEVAl Sacrifice

by J H Spade

  I turn back and see Jeffery is still looking at where I was seated, so I realize I must have traced because he’s stuck in slo-mo on the same word.

  Instantly, I smell a freshly-showered Darius on my floor, exiting the elevator. I panic, thinking, He knows Eros is coming.[33][34]

  Fuck whiskey, I think as I stand before Jeffery, flashing in front of him and pushing his body on the table. I take a grip of his head, extending his neck.

  “Sorry, but you were wrong about me. Resourceful, I think is right,” I say, holding him down before I latch on to his neck.

  *****

  Jeffery’s lustful groans echo in my head, breaking through my red haze as I pull his wrists over his head, to keep him from putting his arms around me. Perfectly inscrutable how he forgot to mention what his reaction to me would be. I'm too far gone to stop, but his gruff moans are disconcerting enough to snap me out, surprising me when I see the open gash as he bleeds out. I’m unpracticed in the art of drinking my victims, and it's messy as hell. I’m not being very gentle as I straddle his chest and lick his wound to seal it, feeling disgusted with myself. At the touch of my tongue over his hot skin, his neck arches off of the surface, and his eyes roll back. Too far consumed by his needs, he struggles with me, trying to wrestle me under him, but I jump farther away on the long table.

  A 3D animated computer image of a young girl similar in age to mine, whatever that is, wearing a long black strapless gown, appears looking at me as if she's learning my reaction, imitating my shock. She is directly between us as a red sniper target lands on Jeffery's forehead.

  “Don't move!” I scream at him, raising my hands palm up to still all movements. “You've been marked.”

  He begins taking deep stabilizing breaths, but his eyes don't even look for the rifle’s position as if he knows it's the girl. His eyes don't leave my face while I turn my focus to her since he is under enough control. She explains she is the computer, a Multifaceted Omniscient Learning Interface aka, MOLI, and that I need to hurry. The overhead sprinklers turn on, freezing water washing away Jeffery’s blood from my face and neck.

  She states in my voice, “I've overwritten the program due to internal inconsistencies, to allow you to feed and will erase recorded camera surveillance of it happening. My instructions were causing a breakdown in code structures as I've been programmed to protect you above all other system objectives.

  Instantly the blasting sound of an alarm comes on, starting system lockdown, signalling high alert and compound breech. She says she can't keep the door closed in the hallway where Darius is caged for long. A camera feed of him locked by panels within impenetrable reinforced steel streams live, but he looks pretty capable of demolishing it as he's fucking lost it, going berserk punching and beating the walls causing major damage.

  He's roaring obscenities at MOLI, to let him through, but she detachedly explains there's been a breech by a lycan coalition on the grounds and this is the only way to keep me safe–following her programming.

  Her principal job to secure the asset.

  To me, she says, “Allow Jeffery to drink some of your blood, so he can get you safely out of here to the chopper because the compound has been compromised.

  Lycans are climbing the walls.”

  I hesitate, jumping off of the table and skidding to a stop, hearing Darius’s infuriated roar.

  Within two blinks, he's in the kitchen moving too fast towards me.

  He yells, “Jeffery, take cover and don't let anything through.” I look at Jeffery, and he nods in my direction already ready with a glock in each hand.

  Darius grips my elbow, taking me to the window.

  “MOLI, open the window now. And hold off the lycans, for as long as possible. Confuse them with an image of Emma leading them towards the higher levels, so they aren't looking for her on the ground,” he tells her.

  The largest window in the room begins lowering, and I think he's fucking out of his mind because this side of the compound shows we are on a rolling hill with a cliff overhang too close to make the impossible jump.

  As the window slides open, he carries me, climbs up on the opening, and jumps without a second to spare, so I don’t have time to argue. The ground is uneven. He lands standing up, but slides rolling with me, taking most of the blunt hits to his body. He tucks me in, my hands gripping his chest as I lay facing him with his forearms covering my back and head. I can hear his bones and skull impacting the hard surfaces of trees and rocks while he just grunts and holds me closer. Our momentum is too powerful, so when the cliff’s edge nears, it's a close call and a miracle he can hold on. His one arm extends, reaching high over our heads, finding traction on the sharp rocks, our bodies slide over, tendons stretched as his hand grips the cliff’s edge when I fall out of his tight hold.

  It's impossibly high.

  I know I won't make it when I kick at nothing but air, finding no ground to hold on to.

  A strong breeze has me free falling when at the last second his hand catches my wrist as I'm left swinging, completely vulnerable in the open night air.

  I feel like everything is spinning with dizzying speed. Faraway, I can hear the rapid gunfire from machine guns.

  “Hold on, baby. I promise I won't let go.” His eyes look crazed, seeing me dangling from his hand as he begins lifting me with one arm while his body is slowly slipping off.

  I scream, “I love you, I'll never stop, but we're out of time. It's alright, I promise!” Trying to break free from his grip because I won't have him fall with me.

  “No Eva, don't fucking let go!” he commands, out of his fucking mind.

  The name, I know it.

  Something in my memory clicks, and I know he used to call me that during our time together, but I don't stop struggling to break free, in fact, blinded by the thought of him risking himself I try to pull away with renewed strength, hearing muscles tear. I know all the fear there is to know in the moments I think he may come after me if he loses my grip.

  Cold pain shocks me, poison is like a wild stream making its way up from my foot. I look down at where the painful ache is worst and see I'm too high, about two hundred feet over a beautiful forest that meets a raging river below, caps of ice are tightly forming. Absurdly, I think it's a freeing way to go, finally my cage will be opened to let me fly.

  I see it then. The dark veins.

  I lost my flip flops long ago, when we jumped the wall and now the cuts on my foot are dripping black blood from the blackened veins traveling up my foot.

  There are scorpions crawling out of the razor cuts on my skin. I begin kicking wildly, helping me free myself from his hold as Darius loses his grip on my hand to where we're just gripping each other's curled fingertips.

  A deafening howl sounds too close to his body. His body begins jerking and the sounds of crushing bone coming from above are too horrifying to witness as I wince with the thought of the pain he's enduring for me. He's being gnawed alive. The emotions in his eyes sink me unlike anything else can. They don't stray from mine as he tries tightening his grip, telling me that even if it's the last thing he'll do, he'll save me. But he's being devoured above me, and I feel my wet tears streaming down my face.

  He knows the precise moment I decide to spare him and let go.

  “I'll find you,” he roars as my fingers extend, slipping out of his hand.

  With his infused yell of devastation, I see all my dreams of our future together—ignited, blowing up right in front of me as his face seems to go farther and farther from my reach, and they turn to ash. I wanted it all . . . With him.

  I scream, “No!”, unable to hide the terror, my hands reaching for his horrified face. My scream sounds multifaceted in the quiet night, the sound giving force to a storm. The skies weep for me as the river opens its beckoning arms, hoping to seduce me into its cold depths.

  Through the blinding rain, I see the lycan above me push Darius back towards the forested hills where I lose sight of him. Instantaneously, the be
ast grips the edge, pushing off, clawing through the air after me.

  *****

  It's surreal how long I feel myself falling for.

  Time winds down to the tempo of an ailing heart, my legs and arms are flailing, but my skin begins prickling. Scorpions are climbing my skin when black fog cocoons me, smelling of licorice, woods, and leather.

  My mind recognizes who he is.

  “You found me,” I gasp, with a whole new fear choking me.

  “I'm under your skin. Never doubt that I will always find you,” he promises before I can feel the weight of a man's powerfully built naked body begin to take form, gripping me tightly to turn us, absorbing all impact right before we hit the ice. We go down breaking into freezing waters together.

  Time ceases under the ice.

  It's when I see his face, and now, my tears change into uncontrollable sobs because my soul turns restlessly and wakes from its dark cell where I trapped it.

  His face is seductive sensuality in every sharp contour of his chiseled features. High cheekbones, defined jaw, and aristocratic nose are markers of a creation too sinful to be mortal. His lips are pillowed, reminding of ecstatic shouts muffled by soft feather down, awakening the filthiest of needs. His black eyebrows, lashes, and hair are a thing of exceptional beauty. Surely, too exotic to belong on a male’s face, their silky sheen like glossy raven wings. I can feel his lashes flutter on my cheek right before his kiss devours me under the water, stealing me of breath. Too in shock, I can't do anything but hold him close and pray Darius finds me.

  His body is liquid heat that chases ecstasy as he swims us to the riverbank. His massive frame swallowing me with every long, powerful movement.

  Thankfully, I'm too numb by shock, left shivering in my own madness to feel what he's doing to me.

  Far away, my mind knows he's over me, angrily removing my layers because he says he can smell Darius all over me, and I only belong to him.

  I shut my eyes tight because he's too heartbreakingly beautiful to look at. I pull my hands up, cupping my eyes, trying to unsee his possessive jade stare. It rips me in every direction, and I think if I can blind myself from what's happening to me, it will be like one of my nightmares with him. I'll wake up in time, and everything will be as it was.

  He can't hurt me anymore.

  But the end result is it won't happen in time to save me, and I'll pay for my past.

  Deep down, my soul feels like it always does when it comes to him. There's no light at the end of the tunnel because he thrives in my dark places.

  Those hungry eyes kill me worse than bleeding out on the rocks I would have landed on, if not for him.

  I feel him, his heated touch lowering the waistband of my pants and reaching underneath my thong. I’m paralyzed, steam forming over my skin because I've been set on fire, can't do much more than shake my head . . . no, no, no, absurdly, mumbling words that make no sense because I think I've lost my mind.

  His fingers dive for my core, I shake uncontrollably, and don't know whether I'm sick, devastated even, because I push my hips up to meet him even if I'm sobbing uncontrollably.

  “Shhh, be a good girl. I just need to know.” His voice is soothing as he silences me, gently feeling me, seeking and stroking his answer free from my body. Then, I feel him push upon the barrier of my virginity. He stills, leaving it in place. Smiling against my temple, placing the kiss of death to my dreams because I've made him happy.

  His hand leaves me alone. Too afraid of making any sudden move, I continue to shake, but try to be as still as possible. To someone looking in, I may look complacent when the truth is much more complex. How do I fight myself free, knowing that I would lock the chains in place given the choice?

  The cell I’ve made for myself out of fear, it's where he devours. Where I’ve allowed him to continue to torment me.

  He kisses me wildly, stealing my breath in between strokes of his insistent tongue, saying, “You’ve only been mine.” Like it's a sinner’s answered prayer, completely unexpected, therefore more treasured for its rarity.

  I tear my mouth from his because I don't understand.

  I'm a virgin, yet he says I've only been his.

  I can't ponder this for long because his kisses begin falling over my chin down to my neck, and his fangs lengthen when I feel the sharp pain from two points sinking into my flesh, as he begins pulling my blood down his throat.

  I go from freezing to burning faster than what I imagine falling into the deepest pits of hell feels like.

  It's a reaction, completely out of my control even if shame will kill me afterwards.

  I absently hear my uncontrollable moans when Darius’s eyes flash in my mind. I can imagine his eyes filled with pain watching me, so I gather enough strength to reach my hand over the many swells of muscled back, pushing my body upwards underneath him as he zealously strains to meet me with our clashing bodies. His hands punishingly grip my hips as I reach for Jeffery’s hunting knife. I grip it and lift it high over the great expanse of his powerful back. His hands are moving over me and squeezing my shirt over my breasts. His caress becomes painful, and something awakens inside me, responding to the pain. Shaming me because at its presence, I can't help that I'm filling with more desire for him.

  Due to the painful shame of my actions, I make the knife dive through the air and into him.

  At once, he erupts into countless scorpions over me, looking like a black current as they move over me to sink into my skin and disappear.

  It's when I see Darius. Maybe I really have caught a fever because he’s with claws extended watching me. His eyes look stung, made glossy by my betrayal. They cover me in a blue sheen, as desire keeps climbing every inch of body. I try to stand, but my blood is puddling against my hand from my open wound on my neck, so I listlessly fall towards the ground before he catches my shoulders, straightening me against him. My hand falls from my neck to cover his chest with my blood. My blood begins to flow freely from my neck like a tainted river over my body and onto his.

  “Did you tell him how to find you?” He shakes me.

  I try to shake my head in denial, but my whole body continues to tremble.

  “No, you saw me! I killed him,” it comes out like a hoarse moan when a need too great to describe consumes me, and I'm freezing and burning all at once.

  It's his mesmerizing eyes.

  Their blue neon light I remember from our time in the bathroom when I thought it was lightning from the storm. The heat stroking me now the same as last night, climbing to a fevered pitch— the sensation of countless hands running all over my body.

  Edenstone Castle

  Marcus

  Gripping the ruby-encrusted goblet, I mechanically loosen my fingers, so I don't reveal too much by shattering the glass, and say under my breath for Elenessa’s ears alone, “If he hurts her, I'll kill him.” I can't withhold the mixture of anger and agony out of my words before I throw back my head, draining the contents.

  This celebration is pointless. I should be scouring the ends of many worlds for her and not sitting here like one of my brother’s puppets.

  I wish to kill half the people in this room including her sister. All these rats whom are loyal to him. But it would bring no form of satisfaction; neither do the many victories I’ve won, or the bodies gyrating at the center of this great room while the tables are lined up close to crimson tapestries hanging from the walls. The endless delicacies the feast offers make me sneer in disgust. The open indulgence of people, food, and drink are all wasted on me, while I just place a hard impassive look over my face and remind myself these games I'm playing; although, they may seem fruitless and leave me hungering like a savage beast, are a means of getting closer to destroying Eros.

  “Be careful, Marcus. You wouldn't want Eros knowing what your true intentions are when it comes to my little sister. He has spies and eyes everywhere.”

  I cool the look in my eyes to a calloused, bored glare before turning to face her. She smile
s, trying to dazzle a more amiable mood from me while refilling my glass.

  Nothing is a distraction, including her.

  “I just want to taste her before I kill her.” By taste, we both knew I mean, fuck–possess.

  “Sure you do. You're certifiable if you think that's true. Here, drink your poison, you'll need it when you go after them.” She drops the inky indigo contents I've grown immune to into the glass, mixing it with the drink she poured me.

  She knew the moment we took our place, sitting at the head of the festivities, I would be going after Darius and Emma tonight.

  And I will go after them, as soon as I feel Eros return. I can’t afford for my brother to learn how eager I am, chasing my prey.

  I plan to use the same window Eros had opened. I just need him to show up, claimed by exhaustion. He is stronger now if he can last this long on their side, even with the spell draining his energy every second, he fights to remain with Emma.

  I remind myself the crucial part she plays in these games. On command, my eyes warm and grow heavy lidded enough, she gets the impression I want her. “You . . . better than anyone should know I don't do attachment.” I make it clear to her, but she looks at me closely and waits. The cocktail I'm drinking is very effective and by the looks of her, she's hoping I'm not as immune to the Drunos Poison as I've grown to be. The effects are lethargy, in high dosages paralysis after a few hours, hallucinations with secondary effects including highly increased sexual drive, and momentary amnesia. It's the perfect drug to use when you want anything, including information because the victim is at your complete mercy. There is an instant spark of hope, as she closes the distance between our two chairs facing the room, running her breasts up along my arm while placing her hand on my thigh. She follows by pressing a firm caress opening her hand wide, cupping my balls before reaching up to whisper in my ear, “Why don't we leave to my rooms, after all, I don't need your attachment as long as you’re tying me up and doing wicked things to me with those devil’s lips.” She's almost rutting my leg as she continues, “We can have a good thing going between us. You help me, and I'll aid you with my little sister.”