by Kyle Olson
Which left her only one option. Yes, a single solution.
I’ll kill him, kill him kill himkillhim!
Her paw-hands balled into fists and she shook her head.
No!
The jackal goddess looming over the corpse shuddered, tails whipping back and forth.
Don’t make a scene. Or a big, noticeable scene. A little scene is fine.
Totally fine.
Composed as she was ever going to be, she set down the stairs. More cabinets were spread out around the foot of the stairwell, along with deep freezers and refrigerators. Against a far wall, another door, hanging open. Scents of dust, soil, and history accompanied those of fresh death. And of Phytos. His stench was stronger than ever.
There was only one thing she’d find on the other side. Even knowing, she couldn’t ignore it, couldn’t walk away. It’d be the smart thing to do, the prudent thing to do. Her nose told her everything she needed to know. Yet she had to see it. She’d never be able to rest if she didn’t.
She took the first step towards the door, then the second.
Across that threshold would be the point of no return.
It became increasingly difficult to care.
With a few more long strides, she was through.
And it was worse than she could have imagined.
The family crypt. Her son and daughter, the last two she swore she would ever bear, were buried at the far end in their tombs. Renard was a clever boy who’d become a shrewd businessman. Wendolin was a beauty, and so good at using it to her advantage. Together they’d amassed their own fortunes from a small trust, despite never knowing their mother. She’d always watched, of course, and been so proud.
Four more generations were buried here, enshrined among their legacy.
And a fifth and sixth generation lay here now, though they’d not been given a coffin, nor even a spot in one of the alcoves.
Death permeated her senses. She could feel its frigid grasp through her thick fur.
Phytos was in his human shape, seated upon a sarcophagus. His clothing was still intact, save for a a short tear in a sleeve. His face remained solemn upon seeing Tess.
“I was beginning to think you wouldn’t show up,” he said as he stood.
Tess shambled forward, ignoring him. She collapsed next to the corpse of a young girl. Teresa was pretty, just like her ancestors. Shuffling towards the other bodies on her knees, Tess recited their names in turn.
“Walter. Gerdia. Mathau. Lumine. Peter. Francine. Kynda. Irene. Jonathan…”
With his fingers still clutching a rifle was the last body, the former head of the family. His face was twisted and frozen in fear. “…Randal.”
“It’s poor taste to linger and pointlessly cruel to gloat,” Phytos said, “But I was given an order to ensure you were aware of who ordered their deaths, distasteful as it may be.”
All the fear, all the uncertainty and doubt in her mind vanished like it’d never been there at all, like the past weeks were a dream.
Fuck not making a scene.
In Randal’s breast pocket was a blood-soaked pack of cigarettes. The same brand Tess favored. Plucking them from the pocket, she shook one of the crumpled sticks into her padded palm. She stood and brought it to her lips, clenching it gently between her teeth to keep it in place.
The end flashed alight, trailing a wisp of smoke into the air. There’d been no attempt to carry on with the motions to make it look like she’d used a lighter.
Phytos frowned and his eyes tightened.
“Didn’t know about that, did you?” Tess said, struggling somewhat with the act of smoking without human lips or cheeks.
“It doesn’t matter,” Phytos said, walking towards Tess, “But now that you’re here—”
“Yes, yes, Ifon ordered it, blah blah blah. Teach me a lesson, yes?”
“What? How did you know?”
“A little birdie told me. Besides, even if he didn’t, it wouldn’t be hard to figure out.”
Phytos had been thrown off balance. “Little birdie? Who— Wait, Daontys?”
“You got it,” Tess said, smoking down the cigarette in massive puffs at a time. She couldn’t take her eyes off the bodies, or the tracks her paws had made through the blood.
“I wasn’t aware he’d allied himself with Sejit.”
“He hasn’t.”
“Then… Aside from how he knew, why would he tell you?”
Tess’ facade was unwinding, she shook her head and laughed at the same time, “You know how he is about interfering with mortals lately, that strange bird.”
“Hmph. Seems we have some security matters to discuss,” said Phytos as he made to step past Tess, “And now that you know who it was that ordered their deaths, I will take my leave.”
Tess stuck out an arm to block him. “Where do you think you’re going?”
The glow of ash in the dim room gleamed a dull cherry red in her eye.
“I am leaving, unless you think to stop me,” Phytos said, returning her glower twice over.
“How about you indulge me first,” Tess said, tapping off a bit of ash, “As a mother who has just lost what remained of her family.”
Phytos took a breath. It wasn’t just the revelation that they’d had an information leak that was unsettling him.
“Go on.”
“What does slaughtering a bunch of mortals accomplish? They were innocent,” Tess said, teeth snapping shut to accentuate the last ‘T’.
“Innocent?” Phytos was taken aback, shaking his head. “None of them were innocent. I tasted of their souls as they departed. Each was wicked with greed and selfishness.”
“Wicked with greed? Gakaka!” Tess’ cackling laughter started low, muted, but built into a crescendo that nearly doubled her over. “We’re all a bunch of greedy fuckers! Them, you, me! If we didn’t ever want shit, nothing’d ever get done.”
“That you say that shows how small you really are. You’ve spent far too much time playing at mortal games. Their greed leads them to commit unspeakable atrocities against one another. I’d have thought the war would’ve made that clear to you.”
“That’s rich. Wanting to be dictator of the world isn’t greed?”
“It’s a necessity for their well-being.”
More than half the cigarette had burned away. Tess’ pert ears drooped. “And I also take that to mean you’ve never had children?”
“Never.”
“Mmm, fortunate for you. They can’t ever be used against you or killed for no fucking reason other than just to get at you.”
“Among other reasons, though I would not allow them to die meaningless deaths,” Phytos said, meeting Tess’ pointed stare head-on. When she said nothing, he attempted to walk around her, but once again she blocked his path.
“Move. I will not ask you again. The only reason I have tolerated your actions so far is as a courtesy from one god to another,” he said, puffing out his chest, throwing back his shoulders, “Even for one such as yourself.”
“Allow. Allow! Let me tell you a tale, spin you a yarn,” she said, voice dripping with sarcasm and malice. She met Phytos’ attempt at intimidation, leaning in to touch his nose with her wet, canine one.
“The first time some asshole thought to control me through my family, butchered them even after I said I’d obey, I thought I’d be done with humans forever,” she said in a low growl, “But then some charmer would work his magic, and after a while I forgot what it was like to have a little bit of fucking joy. Seeing your kids grow up, be successful, have kids of their own? Best shit in the world…” Her voice had lost its edge, gone to some faraway place—before returning, prepared for war.
“And then it happened again. And again. And again. After so many times, that was it. I couldn’t take it anymore, even though I had two babes, one scarcely days old and the other so young he couldn’t walk. Sent them away to safety, even though it tore me to pieces.”
“Not safe enough, it would ap
pear. Now move.”
Tess grabbed his head in a paw. “No.”
His human facade vanished in a flash, a lumbering crocodile standing where a person once was—and Tess’ paw was still clamped tight, despite the fact he’d become taller than she was.
“You may be Sejit’s ally, but she will not save you now!”
Tess darted back, all crazed smiles. The cigarette had burned down to the filter. She let it slip from her maw, and as gravity took its hold, it burst into flames before it hit the floor.
Phytos was mid-swipe, claws flicked outs, when some alarm sounded in his brain. It’d grown hot.
“Burn,” Tess hissed through clenched teeth as she parried his murderous but clumsy strike.
The air seethed and boiled. Phytos screamed and flailed when fire-caressed flesh seared on the bone. A dull rumble shook the crypt. Tess kicked Phytos away as the world ignited around her. Vengeance to outshine the sun snarled like a frenzied beast, blasting from the tombs, howling from the coffins, smashing open alcoves to consume the crypt and estate. All became naught but fuel for the inferno birthed from Tess, who stood in the eye of the maelstrom, safe from its wrath. Her lips had pulled back in a snarl of joy, tongue lolling out and panting as she laughed and laughed.
It’d been so long, too long, since she’d cut loose. How great it felt!
Molten rock and metal whipped around her in a cyclone with Phytos trapped in the mix. She could barely make out his incoherent screams whirling around her.
More! I need more! Come, my children, release your rage!
Faster and faster, hotter and hotter, a tornado of fire stretched out and touched the clouds above, dispersing them to the horizon. Yet, the beast was obedient to its mother, leaving her with nary a singed hair.
She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered, power spilling out of her like a river sundering its dam. So hot, so good! Why had she ever contained herself before, followed along with the idea of keeping quiet? All this could’ve been avoided if she’d just done things her way. She’d tried to be nice, tried to play by the rules, and what did it get her? How many times had she endured having her heart and soul shredded?
Laughter faded away and she gazed up through the eye of the storm to the heavens above.
“I am done!” She bellowed, thrusting a fist into the air, and made a promise to faces only she could see, “I will set this world right.”
The screams had become little more than pitiful sobs of a broken mind.
“And this shall be the first step.”
Just like that, the wall of fire vanished like a breeze. Goddess-made lava splattered to the earth in heaving globs, surrounding Tess with a molten moat.
Her prize lay in a barely-recognizable lump of charred flesh. More than half his body had been devoured, but his crocodilian resilience and regeneration had kept him alive, insomuch as he could be considered in his present state. It wouldn’t be a stretch to think of him as being so far gone as to never be whole again. She strode across the molten field, ignoring the smoldering of her paw pads.
His eyes were gone along with most of his face, but he detected her, based on the way his gurgling changed. Could he hear her? It didn’t matter.
“You want to know why Sejit allied herself with me?” She said in an amused, almost sing-song voice, “It’s because of this—and no, I don’t mean the fire.”
Something reached into him and plucked at him, like fingers stealing grapes from a vine.
Bit by bit, pieces of him vanished. It wasn’t that they were destroyed or disposed of, more like they winked from existence. Perhaps they’d never existed to begin with.
First, his hope. Then his joy and pride and purpose. Memory by memory, it all vanished into oblivion until all that remained was a husk stripped clean of reason, self, and the will to exist.
Tess was almost disappointed by his lack of will. Normally, even upon the precipice, they put up token resistance. Then again, she’d never gone that far, never reduced someone to the state that it’d be impossible to have a single, coherent thought. Although, it was just Phytos, a crony. A lackey.
And now, nothing.
She smirked.
It may not have been fair to blindside him like that, but it wasn’t fair what they’d done. Fuck being fair, not any more.
With nothing left to do, Tess stood back and watched as he ceased to be. One final gasp and what little was left in him departed, leaving a barren lump of thing.
Her thoughts turned to her family. Disposing of a hated god and funeral rite, all in one.
Have you found peace, my children? Fear not, for this is just the beginning.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Sophia found herself looking up at a ceiling. There wasn’t a stretch of waking up, no groggy feeling as senses stirred and gave their opinion on the world. No sense of the mind dragging itself from the realm of sleep, just the present and the white above.
With those certain key steps missing, she was left unsure of here or there. Awareness came to her as it weaseled its way through circular thoughts. The bright sun pouring through a partially-boarded window. A pair of cats, Samsa and Gregor, curled up against her on either side. Their warmth spread through the thick blankets covering her, keeping her nice and toasty.
They slept soundly, or had been until Sophia’s movements roused them. They stretched and blinked at her before letting out a soft mew. Her fingers stroked through their soft fur and they both purred.
Everything was the same as she’d remembered it being, or at least before she was woken in a start by soldiers with guns.
Events played out in her mind, covering beginning to end in a flash.
Her heart lurched. It was beating, but it remembered a time when it hadn’t. She bolted upright, hands roving her body, searching out anything that should be there that wasn’t, or shouldn’t but was.
Along her back, fingers played over a wound, or, no—a sensitive patch where there ought to be a wound. No blood, no scars, just smooth skin that prickled under her touch.
Almost like it’d never happened.
But, no, that wasn’t right. The fear and the pain were too real to be a dream. And something else lurked within the fog of memory.
…That was it—a massive, black jackal.
Remember not to forget, the smoke-clouded beast had said.
“Remember not to forget what?” She mumbled to herself, covering her face with a hand to shield against the bright light, “What even happened?”
Samsa answered her with a droopy-eyed meep.
He was rewarded with a few ear scritches.
Maybe it didn’t happen after all…
Soft cotton sheets and blankets, along with her cats, were warm against the chill in the air, urging her to sink back into their comforting depths. As she settled in, something else tickled at her senses. Another sensation, remarkably foreign yet familiar at the same time, like having her hair touched, only it covered most of her body from the waist down. It would’ve been a tiny, ignorable thing if not for the fact she’d never felt it before in her life.
For the first time, she took note of the outline in the blankets. It was such an obvious thing, now that she saw it, but who noticed such things when they woke? Where the usual pair of legs ought to be, making two lumps in the blankets, there was something else: A massive lump with some other, leg-like lumps jutting from it. Like a massive cat napping underneath.
Yf? She thought in a panic, thinking the cat god was sleeping on her, but she already knew. The sensations told her all she needed to know, but it wasn’t something she could believe until her eyes confirmed it.
Throwing the blankets off, sending the cats dashing from the bed and out of the room in a rude awakening, there was the tawny body of a lion where human legs ought to be. The body had no head, for it was connected at its shoulders to her waist.
She stared.
“Ha ha ha, this can’t be happening,” her voice came in an almost sing-song tone, the lion
tail began to twitch and thump, “This has to be fake, ha ha ha! See, if I touch it—” She poked herself on one of the forepaws, making herself twitch.
“Fuck.”
“Good, you’re awake,” came a familiar voice. Yf entered, flanked on either side by Samsa and Gregor, “These two hauled ass straight to me, so I figured you’d finally come to.”
“What,” Sophia laughed out, face frozen into a twisted mask of insanity, “The fuck! Is this?!”
Her tail’d gone from mere thumping to full-on thrashing, the poof of brown fluff at the end beating the mattress like a drum.
“Yeeaaaah. About that,” Yf said, making the uncomfortable, pained face of a doctor struggling to tell their patient the results, “Short of it is that you were dead, and now you’re not. Some of this and that happened, and here you are! Great, huh?”
“This and that?!” Sophia shot to her paws, standing on the bed. Her anger was held in check for a moment by a revelation: “How do I even know how to move like this?! What did you do to me?!”
“I brought you back to life,” Yf said, then gestured to the cats who had scampered up onto the bed to rub themselves against Sophia’s new legs, “Though they helped. Just so you know, they offered up a little bit of themselves to help re-tether your soul. You should thank them.”
“That doesn’t answer shit! Why am I,” Sophia gestured wildly to herself, “am I, whatever this is!”
“You’re a sphinx now, or rather, you were always one. Deep down, that is. Part of bringing you back to life meant drawing on that aspect, so, unfortunately, there were some… changes.”
“How! Why! What?” Sophia collapsed onto the bed, all four of her legs splaying out, “This is some shit.”
Yf took a seat on the bed next to Sophia, offering the girl some comforting pats to her fluffy flank. “There there. Just think of it like puberty. You already went through changes once, what’s a second time?”
“Ha ha ha. Yeah, see, puberty was hell, but at least I didn’t turn into a fucking lion! Are you serious!” Sophia swat away Yf’s hand, not with her own, but a paw. “How? How am I doing this—that? I shouldn’t know how to do that! And speaking of things that shouldn’t be possible, how did you even bring me back to life, how is any of this!”