by Quil Carter
Bill, the woman named Karen, and the man with the receding hairline all looked in my direction. I stared back, still no fear inside of me. I was mentally daring them to even try. And a part of me wanted to see if I could take all ten. I had my abilities, and my chimera enhancements would work well in a fight.
It would be fun.
But alas… I think I wanted to teach these parasites a lesson.
A lesson in… Who has the power.
And who does have the power?
Why Elish! Elish has the power.
“Oh, you fool,” I chuckled. “That’s not how you get people to do things, Terry. You don’t have the power to get them to do shit.” Terry gave me a look that was the bastard love child of anguish and fear. “I do, however. And I believe… I wish to teach you a valuable lesson. Do you know what that lesson is?” I took another step towards Terry, and leaned down with my hands on my knees.
Then, channeling the demeaning techniques of Silas, I reached down and patted Terry’s cheek, which he wrenched away from my touch. I laughed at this. “The lesson is… The Dekker Family Rules All of You. Absolutely, Unconditionally, and Wholeheartedly.”
I took a step back and soaked in the energy pouring from them with my satisfied smile. “And now for our demonstration.” I cleared my throat and put my hands behind my back. My attention turned to the eight greywasters standing around the prisoners. “You are all greywasters, aren’t you?”
There were nods amongst all of them, even the few I’d originally thought were Skylanders. They must’ve been of some importance in the greywasters; too bad that meant absolutely nothing here.
“And your district? Moros or Nyx?”
All of them mumbled Moros, except for the two better-dressed ones.
The man made a frustrated noise, then his eyes closed and he released a cry just as frustrated. I suppose it must be stressful waiting for your death, the woman hadn’t stopped her blubbering since she’d shot at me.
Oh, how fleeting bravery is; the dumb bitch should’ve had better aim.
“Great,” I replied. I began to slowly pace around the victims, the smile still on my face. “And you greywasters… you love eating the flesh of humans, don’t you?”
They stared at me blankly, and I chuckled and raised a dismissive hand. “I do as well, don’t get me wrong. But ours comes… pre-packaged and aged, you see. I’ve never had the privilege of consuming arian meat fresh off the bone.”
The woman prisoner attempted to jump to her feet at my admission. I walked over and kicked the broad in the face, her screams piercing the night air and lingered like an echo all throughout the silence that the dead of night brought. She fell backwards, blood bursting from her nose and mouth, and quietly sobbed on the ground.
“I have a request for you eight,” I said to them. “See, I have a craving tonight. I’ve heard that liver is the most delicious fresh. I would like to treat my family.” I took a step away from the howling bitch. “The first one to deliver me their livers, gets their kids a full scholarship to the College of Skytech. And if you don’t have children of age… hm, let’s say… five thousand dollars.”
“Fuck you!” Terry screamed, and the woman began to shriek hysterically. Boy, were women fucking loud, and their voices were too high. It was bad enough having to listen to Ellis when she was fighting with Silas or one of my brothers.
So I dealt her another kick, this one aimed and delivered right to her bloodstained throat. She fell back gasping and coughing, and her hands, complete with pink nail polish on the fingernails, grasped her throat.
But as I stepped back, I saw that none of them had moved. They were staring at me with dumbfounded looks, but their eyes were shifting from my face, to the two prisoners on their knees in front of me.
I wasn’t worried, however. I could play the waiting game. All it took was one person to make the first move and the others would follow.
“There’s only two prizes,” I said in a singing voice. I motioned to their belts. “I see knives on every single one of you.” I crossed my arms and watched their squirming. “I have all night.”
Terry inhaled a sharp breath through his pressed teeth. “They won’t, asshole!” he screamed, desperation glazed onto each and every word. The terror was just thick around him, such an intense emotion it seemed to defy transparency. I was sure I could physically see it. “Greywasters… we… we stick–”
Then the dam broke. A man in his late twenties, who had been mainly quiet through all of this, walked up behind Terry, a knife in hand. My eyes flickered up to him and I smiled, and just as Terry turned his head and let out a scream, the man raised his knife and stabbed the prisoner right in the back.
Terry screamed again and swore violently, the knife sticking straight out of his back. It was quickly grabbed by the man who’d stabbed him, and like I’d expected, this frenzied the others.
It was one of the truest demonstrations of the pack mentality. No one wanted to be the first person to do the immoral thing, but once one man broke that barrier, he seemed to pave the way for the followers.
Knives shone under the LED street lamp above us, every man, and even the woman, wielding knives of many sizes and shapes. I watched with cold contentment as they swarmed Terry with a sea of flashing silver, silver that soon filled the night with the hot aromatic smell of fresh blood.
His screams lit up the town, and as the greywasters mobbed him, several men broke free from the cluster and went to the woman. She released a horrific scream, but in between her howls I heard cries for mercy, pleas that she had children at home, then a terrorized shriek that was several octaves higher; one that told me a knife was currently slicing open her stomach.
I walked along the outskirts of the mob. I got a good look at four greywasters in the process of pulling apart the bleeding wounds on Terry’s stomach, with bare hands drenched in blood up to their elbows. Terry was too stunned to do anything but stare at them with protuberant eyes, his mouth opening and closing and his shaky hands feebly attempting to push the invaders away.
The flesh ripped as they yanked the skin back, and I saw off-white poke through the yellow pockets of fat. One greywaster grabbed the off-white bulges, and he pulled what were intestines out of the shredded cavity. He dropped the handful of guts and dug around for more, diving deep into the man’s disembowelled stomach to try and find the liver.
This man had competition though, more hands dove deep inside, pushing away the others to try and find that hidden diamond.
Terry was sputtering and groaning the entire time, his bulging eyes, the whites glowing in the lamp light, watching the excited hands dig around his insides. The smell that was created from this was appetizing, blood, but also with that hot nose-pleasing scent of fresh innards. A smell that anybody who’d been in the presence of an animal currently being butchered would recognize.
I left him and walked to the woman. She was on her back like Terry, and there was a similar scene playing out in front of her.
There was a difference, however. Only a man and the one named Karen were digging around the woman’s lithe body; to my amusement, behind the woman were two men writhing on the ground, holding their hands against horrific knife wounds. They were killing their competition, how smart.
Fascinating. I didn’t think they would turn on–
Behind me a scuffle broke out. I turned around and witnessed two of the arians fighting, their blood-soaked hands at each others throat as they fought for rights to the massacred chest cavity, now spilling intestines from the shredded wound like an overflowing pot.
The other two were in the process of pulling out a deep red organ that shone in the street lights. The liver.
“I got it…” the female named Karen gasped. My attention went back to her as she withdrew the liver from the woman’s stomach. The bitch now dead, never again able to seduce men with her skimpy shirt and oversized tits. They’d do her no good in the afterlife.
Karen got up, the liver in her
bloody hands. She had blood all over her body, even smudged on her face and sticking to her long blond hair. The man that she hadn’t killed was beside her, panting heavily but rising too. It was obvious those two were together.
I took the liver from her, the sweet-smelling organ still warm to the touch. Then behind me I heard the scraping of shoes and another scream. I looked in time to see a blade get plunged into the stomach of the one called Bill, sliding in with ease as if it had been slicing through butter.
Then, with an energetic slash, the man opened Bill’s throat.
The man, who I realized was the first one to attack Terry, then turned his attention to the two greywasters kneeling beside Terry’s body. One of them was holding the man’s organs out of the way, and the other was trying to cut the liver away without damaging it. I chuckled at what I knew was about to happen, and watched with amusement as the man walked behind the two, a crazed gleam in his eye that was accentuated by the blood covering his body.
He grabbed the first man’s chin from behind and slashed his throat. The throat opened up with a spill of bright blood, then immediately that blood began to gush from two different streams. With a gurgle of shock, the man grabbed his throat and looked down in confusion as the blood sprayed between his fingers. The crazed greywaster then did the same to the last one, the only difference was this greywaster, Harry, I believe, knew what was coming and began to beg and plead.
“You can have it… you can have it!”
His life was soon over.
And then there were three. Three greywasters who had once resided in what they’d believed was the most hostile, most violent place on earth, who had come to Skyfall to find peace and a better way of life.
I wonder what their opinion of Skyfall was now?
The crazed greywaster leaned down and picked up the liver. He stood up and held it out to me, the organ itself carrying a surprising bit of weight to it.
“You can carry it for me,” I said to him. Then I turned to the man and women. “You have children, don’t you?” I said to Karen. I didn’t see any other reason for her to be that ruthless to the other two greywasters. If she was a mother from the greywastes, I could see her standing on top of a pile of dead bodies, still warm, for a chance to give her children a better life.
And I was right. The woman nodded. But even though she had blood on her hands, figuratively and literally, unlike the crazed one, her and her partner both looked grief-stricken. “Yeah,” she whispered. Her eyes were fixed on the body of the woman, the man however seemed unable to look at the carnage. “We have five. I… grew up a slave. It was my husband who bought me and freed me. I… want them to have it better than I did.”
“And they will,” I said. “You’ll give your name to the dean of the College of Skytech, and you’ll tell them what I told you tonight. If he has an issue with it, tell him to call Elish Dekker, and if he doesn’t believe you… you have permission to come to Alegria and tell me. I’ll punish him accordingly for wasting my time.” I turned from her and motioned for the man to follow me. “You two may leave. Tell no one of what went on here; I don’t need to tell you what will happen if you do.”
I left the carnage behind me, the irony smell of blood soon replaced with the sweet fragrance of a summer night. I could see the lit up tower of Alegria in front of me, and also the two thiens I’d dismissed. They were both standing at the top of the stairs.
As I walked back towards my home, I felt like a veil was being lifted from my face. Even though I’d been in complete control of everything, it was as if I’d been in a trance.
I wasn’t entirely sure what had just happened there… all I knew was that I fucking loved it.
I loved it. I loved this.
Deeply I inhaled, blood and fresh grass expanding my lungs. Vigor rushed through me, coating me with cold adrenaline that was reminiscent of the orgasm I’d had on top of Finn only hours before.
What a night.
Oh, what a fucking night.
This… I liked this. So much did I like this… I felt alive. I wasn’t just existing… I was living.
For the first time in fifteen years…
Life was beautiful.
“What’s your name?” I said to the man I’d told to carry the livers. He had a buzz cut and a square-shaped face, small yet piercing pale blue eyes, and tattoos all along his muscular forearms and going up his neck.
“Vinski Romanoff,” the man said. That made sense to me, his features did look Russian. For the most part, the arian race was a mixture of all the previous races of the Fallocaust. But there were families that attempted to preserve their pre-Fallocaust roots, and usually ending up naming their children to reflect that. “I’m originally from Blacktown, near the blacksands.”
“Why did you come here?” I asked him.
“My mother sent me,” he replied. “I killed my boyfriend for cheating on me. They wanted to string me up, but an immigration officer was in town… told me I’d make a good legionary.”
“I believe you would as well,” I said to him. “In two weeks to this day, go to the Skyland base and talk to Nero Dekker. Tell him what happened tonight; he’ll take care of you.”
The man’s eyes, the craze now gone, brightened. “Nero? I heard a lot about him. He’s a legend amongst the men of Blacktown.”
“Tell him that too. He’ll take care of you even better.” I stopped at the steps of Alegria and took the livers from him. “I’ll have a sengil deliver your reward tomorrow. Speak of this to no one.” I looked up the stairs and saw more thiens staring at me with paled expressions. I wondered if their looks were for the carnage they could see in the distance, the livers I was holding, or the bullet wound that was currently stinging my arm.
They would be cleaning up my mess, so they better have strong stomachs.
I smirked at my own inner quip, and with a nod of my head, I left Vinski and began walking up the stone steps towards the entrance to Alegria.
Finn cried out when he saw me. I walked in to the sengil sitting at the dining room table with the television off and the room in silence. As soon as I opened the door, his head turned, eyes bugging out with terror, and when the boy saw the red covering me, and the shredded sleeve that had left trails of blood running down my arm and dripping from my fingers and onto the carpet… he just lost it.
And that was proven when the boy jumped up from his chair and ran towards me. But as he approached he slowed down, though for what reason, considering I was covered in blood and holding livers in my arms, I didn’t know.
Behind him, Silas burst from his bedroom fully clothed in a grey button-down and trousers. And just as Finn cupped his hands to his mouth and released a gasping sob, the king walked to me. His steps were brisk, but I could tell that he was trying to hide the urgency in them. I could also see whispers of fear on his calmed features, little hands attempting to twist his face to worry before the king’s mastered self-control tore himself free.
“What are you carrying?” Silas said. His voice was wavering while he walked; he said the last two words too fast for the usually stoic king.
Then Silas stopped in his tracks, and his eyes became wide. “That smell… I smell your blood. That’s your blood…” His heartbeat spiked, and tore up his chest. But then his eyes fell onto the organs I was holding and puzzlement took its place.
“Explain yourself,” he said, his voice dropping so low it picked up gravel.
“I fixed the problem, Master,” I said. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, my upper arm was beginning to throb from pain. I ignored it and forced calmness to my face. I wanted the king to see the transformation that I was experiencing so strongly. That tonight I didn’t feel worthless; I didn’t feel weak and pathetic.
Tonight I’d proven something. But not to them, not to Silas – to me.
“The greywastes were unruly, and there was ten of them,” I explained. “Apparently some man was riling them up, attempting to cause trouble. However, the perpetrato
r ran off before I came. It didn’t take long for the parasites to turn violent. One of them shot me.” I heard Finn gasp and cry ‘Oh god’. “And I knew I had to get out of it using my intelligence… so I made them turn on each other.” I held out the two slabs of liver, the dark red organs wafting the coppery scent of congealing blood to our noses. “And I brought us home dinner for tomorrow. Fresh arian liver.”
Silas stared down at the liver. Beside him Finn was making a choking noise, and when I looked to him, I saw he was white as a ghost and in a state of consternation. He was gaping at the two livers and I worried he would fall to the floor or suffer some sort of permanent mental damage.
“Kirrel, take Elish’s… kill,” Silas said, his voice barely raising to address the sengil. He was listening however, moments later Kirrel came from the kitchen, fast enough to warrant a suspicion of him eavesdropping, and took the organ meat from me.
Silas was still looking at my bloodied hands when Kirrel was walking swiftly back to the kitchen, then his gaze slowly rose and met mine. “Who did this to you?” he suddenly asked.
“I was shot in the arm by a frantic woman,” I explained. I let Finn lift back the tatters of blue cloth that was in the middle of fusing itself to my blood-caked wound. The boy gasped again when he saw the extent of the damage, and I myself sucked in a breath. It was no graze; I’d been shot in the arm. And when Finn reached behind my upper arm and brushed it, we both realized there was an exit wound. The bullet had pierced the muscle and had probably pinged against the bullet proof glass that lined the entrance to Alegria. “I’ll get Finn to clean it and tomorrow I’ll see Liam.”
“No, Elish.”
My head turned to Silas when I heard a slight drop on his tone. “Who – did – this – to – you? Who filled your empty shell with this new attitude? Do not take me for a fool by saying it was you. You’re not capable of it.”
No outward reactions. No inward reactions. Keep yourself steady and strong or he will sense it.
But who was I kidding? The Mad King had already caught the scent, and he was going to dig himself past my eyes and into my brain, burrowing and drilling until he bypassed all of my walls and found the hidden secrets underneath.