Primrose & Brimstone

by Mueller, Jason

  “You can’t kill me!” She hissed reading his mind.

  “What do you expect you killed my wife and little girl?”

  “They were your sacrifice I am a god, your god, and they gave me a beautiful gift.” She challenged.

  “How do I get you to go away from me?” He questioned.

  “Why would you want to be rid of me, do you not like the way I make you feel when I take your seed from you?” She countered with that smirk that Jimmy was beginning to hate.

  “Yes but if I didn’t want you to come anymore what would I have to do?” He pressed on.

  “Give me a blood sacrifice to appease me and pass the statue to someone else to take your place and I will visit them instead. It is as you humans say. Easy.” She concluded.

  With that, she seduced him again taking his cum inside her as if she fed on it somehow. When she had left him drifting off to sleep images of Marcy and Sarah haunted him. In his mind he could see everything that happened to them over and over; he woke up sobbing.

  The days and nights became a blur from grief and exhaustion, he could not go back into the lab and concentrate because of the horrible images burned into his mind so he made arrangements to sell the lab and all the snakes. Selling the snakes wasn’t hard as few people in the country had collections as vast as his. Jimmy found out he would have to sell the snakes and the lab building separately which was fine with him. The buyer of the snake collection offered to take the other animals off his hands. He wouldn’t get paid for them but then he didn’t have to care for them either.

  He would walk away with enough money to start over or to take time off while he regrouped and figured out what to do since his old life was destroyed. The day the last snake was removed from the lab and all the other animals were gone Jimmy breathed a sigh of relief. He left the key to the building with the realtor and walked away. He would sell the house later but for now, there was other business to attend to.

  A week later the doorbell rang Bobby got up from the couch and went to the door and found a box. It seemed strange to him, he had ordered nothing and there was no return address on the box just a printed label with his address. He noticed the box was a somewhat heavy and a little warm which again he thought was weird but maybe it was just because of the hotness of summer. He placed the box on the kitchen table and used a steak knife to cut the tape. When he opened the box, the king cobra who had deliberately been kept hungry and warm to ensure maximum aggression lunged forward with no warning and sank its fangs into Bobby’s face and did not let go but continued to pump its full venom sacks empty. Bobby flailed but the ferocity of the attack and the place of the bite caused the venom to act much faster than normal also the impact from the strike-addled him giving the venom time to do its work.

  Bobby, Jimmy’s longtime friend reaped the whirlwind for handing the snake idol off to the man who thought of him as a brother he lay on the floor dying struggling to get to his cell phone. A blurry figure walked into the room and retrieved the cobra placing it back in the box and resealing it. Then the figure reached down with gloved hands and removed Bobby’s phone from his pocket and placed it out of reach.

  Jimmy squatted down by his friend.

  “You shouldn’t have done that Bobby, it’s your fault Marcy and Sarah are dead.” Jimmy whispered softly. Bobby tried to respond but couldn’t. Jimmy patted Bobby’s arm and without another word grabbed the box and left the apartment.

  A week later Jimmy walked down a dirty Los Angeles, California alley, he was on his last errand to rid himself of the snake goddess once and for all. It had taken its toll on him killing Bobby more so than he thought it would but it was something that had needed to be done.

  Jimmy spotted what he was looking for. Partially hidden behind garbage cans was a homeless man passed out drunk. His meager possessions near his head in an assortment of reusable grocery bags. Jimmy slowed his place and looked around, he reached into his pocket pulling out the small idol of the snake goddess. Jimmy carefully dropped the idol into one of the man’s bags causing him to stir but not awaken and walked away.

  Jimmy left the dark alley chuckling to himself at the surprise in store for the man when the goddess showed up that night.

  LIFE BITES

  Falling Rock Montana

  “Jimmy,” Alicia MacDonald called “You need to take Ginger out.”

  “Ok mom” he called back. Eight-year-old Jimmy stuffed his feet into his snow boots and grabbed the leash from the hook by the kitchen door. Getting the dog on the leash wasn’t that easy with the lab puppy jumping around trying to lick Jimmy every time he bent down to clip the leash.

  “Mom, the stupid dog won’t let me put the leash on her!” Jimmy yelled getting frustrated by the pup's antics. Alicia wiped her hands off and got the leash on the dog and the two went bounding out into the snow.

  Once outside and the dog had done its business, the two scampered about in the snow, their giggles and yaps echoing in the wintery mountain air. Jimmy stopped in his tracks and listened to the mournful howl that pierced the quiet evening. Jimmy shuddered thinking to himself that it sounded close, too close, maybe even right there in the yard. His heart beating faster. Where were they?

  “Here Ginger” he whispered. He reached for the end of the leash but the puppy was not aware of the danger and scampered away thinking they were still playing. Jimmy finally caught the end of the leash and pulled the puppy to him, he started for the door.

  The wolves watched from a short distance. The smell of prey was in the air; they waited till the alpha male gave the sign. Soon he was up and running. The pack attacked the boy and his puppy, savagely ripping into the pair. Alicia heard Jimmy give a short cry of fear and pain. She dropped the dish leaving the broken piece on the floor as she ran outside. To her horror, Jimmy was being shredded to pieces by the wolves before her eyes. The puppy was dead and wolves were already feasting on it while others still were trying to kill the child.

  Alicia attacked the wolves with the savagery of a female grizzly when protecting their young. The other wolves left the puppy to set upon her. The alpha male walked to the woman and ripped her throat out. As she laid there with her lifeblood pouring out her head rolled toward her son. As she faded, she watched the pack eating her son, she soon realized that they were eating her too.

  Three days before:

  Johnny Soaring Eagle was livid. Who were these old men to tell him he wasn’t good enough to become the medicine, man? It never occurred to him that it had nothing to do with him being good enough, but that he was constantly in trouble one way or another with his drinking. Bar fights, domestic violence, public intoxication and the hit and run of the little boy riding his bike on the sidewalk two days before was just the straw that broke the proverbial camel’s back. He was warned over and over and given many chances if it all hadn’t happened on the reservation he would have been in jail by now. The elders wanted him to succeed. They had seen the potential in him and grieved the self-destruction the young man seemed determined to perpetrate on himself.

  He had mastered the instruction easily having a natural intuition for the spiritual aspects of a medicine man, he had a keen awareness of his native heritage but lacked a vision for his people and their future. His mentors were astounded at not only how fast he could learn their tribes’ spiritual teachings and history but also the way he grasped the sometimes hidden meanings of things so easily. His knowledge of the land and his ability to live like the ancients was also widely respected in the community.

  Johnny drove out into the mountains using long forgotten logging roads. He carefully parked his truck, grabbed his pack, and walked deep into the forest. He had no fear of getting lost he knew where he was going. His destination was a small clearing where he liked to camp, drink and be alone. Over the years he had set his camp up somewhat permanent with a solidly built lean-to that was warm and dry built between a tree and a large boulder. The tree worked as an upright for the roof structure and the rock acted as
an anchor point and a fire reflector to direct the heat back into his shelter which would keep him warm even on a cold winter's night like this one.

  There was a stream nearby, and he knew what plants were edible when the weather was warm and how to hunt and gather in the old traditions. Johnny could slip into his ancestral past with ease. He was at home in the woods more so sometimes than he was in his old trailer on the reservation and among his people.

  He built a fire in the fire ring in the center of his camp, he would bring the fire into his shelter later. Darkness was coming quickly in the mountains but it was still early and Johnny had several hours before bed. Johnny loved winter nights in the mountains. He loved to hear the wolves and the coyotes howling to their kin across the valley and the beauty of the stars and the northern lights that danced across the sky. As he watched the sun set he continued to drink from the bottle of tequila while he finished setting up camp for the night. He allowed himself to drink heavily knowing he had packed in two more bottles along with his other supplies.

  A few hours later after he had finished his dinner and all the chores needed around the camp he stared drunkenly at the fire, the chants of the dark ancient ones as the old man had called them filled his head. Johnny felt so alive inside whether it was the booze or the spirits coming to him he wasn’t sure and he didn’t care.

  He built the fire up too high almost setting his shelter on fire with errant sparks but he was too drunk to care. He sang the ancient songs as they seemed to get louder in his head pushing out any other thoughts. As Johnny sang, he danced around the fire in the old tradition, almost falling into the flames several times from his drunkenness. The voices continued in his head and the words grew darker than what he had learned but they seemed to roll off his tongue as if he’d known them his whole life. The old man had warned him about messing with the dark spirits that inhabit the land but Johnny wasn’t the type you could tell anything to as he had always been cocky and bull-headed.

  With knowledge of good and evil, of the Great Spirit and of those spirits both good and bad that lived in the woods all of these things were passed down so it would not be lost to the people so they could live on the land and be at peace with it and the spirits that roamed the earth. The hope was that the knowledge would only be used for good as the consequences for abusing it could have devastating effects.

  The ancient incantations were also used for cleansing the land and helping others deal with evil spirits and curses for objects, houses, land, and people. It was customary for the medicine man to teach their apprentices all the knowledge of their ancestors even the dangerous kind. To only teach the good would be equivalent to trying to change history and to dictate the future; this would anger the spirits and bring great calamity upon the tribe and the rest of the world. In his anger Johnny liked the way the curses of the land felt as he sang them, he felt a power rising inside him.

  The wind picked up blowing harder; Johnny’s hair whipped. In the distance, wolves howled, while some responded near-bye. Lightning flashed in the clear winter mountain sky. The lightning and stars working together to set the stage for the spirits that the young man had awoken to wreak havoc now they had been awakened from their slumber.

  The Present

  Old Raymond Myers shuffled out to the alley along the path he had painstakingly cleared after the last snow. At 72 he was still strong for his age but he was slow and he hurt like the dickens with the arthritis that had set in the last few years. He had always prided himself in keeping in shape after a lifetime of hard labor, this year the cold was getting to him and his joints ached almost ruthlessly as the cold wind whipped through the mountains.

  He finally made it out to the alley and to his garbage cans and deposited the bag of garbage. His quest complete he took a few minutes to catch his breath and look up at the stars. When his wife Grace was alive they used to love to go up in the mountains and look at the stars where it was dark and the northern lights would dance across the sky for them, “putting on a private show” is what Grace called as they would sit on the tailgate of his old pickup truck wrapped together in a blanket for warmth. He missed her of late, well more than usual he thought to himself, she had been gone almost two years now, Mr. Meyers knew his time was coming to an end, he could feel it in his bones, as he stood there enjoying the view the mournful howls and yips of wolves started in the distance almost as if mourning his impending passing. He smiled and once again thought of Grace. She’d loved the wolves ever since an Indian medicine man told her that her spirit animal was the wolf and that her spirit and theirs were one. Grace had found this to be a grand thing considering her admiration for the animals. Mr. Meyers thought it all a bunch of phooey but he never said much because Grace always seemed so excited and happy with it.

  “They sound close tonight.” He muttered to himself as he turned to watch the blinking lights of an airliner against the backdrop of the star filled Montana sky lost in thought wondering if Grace was up there looking down on him. She was always a religious woman attending church weekly, but not him he didn’t buy into it all like she did. He would go on holidays to please her and that wasn’t too bad, but he would rather spend Sunday mornings reading the newspaper and watching sports on the TV.

  Mr. Meyers had been thinking about his life and his coming death whether it was this year or five years from now the old man knew it was coming. He had been putting off talking to God but standing in the alley looking up at the stars thinking of Grace gave him a sense of peace yet urgency. The urgency wasn’t one of anxiousness, but of the compulsion to do something that needed to be done. He cleared his throat and started the prayer he had been putting off for so long.

  “Lord, I don’t know what to say, Grace was always the one talking to you. I guess I was just hoping she was putting in a good word for me. She always said I had to believe in you and repent for my sins. I’ve always tried to live a good life and be a good man, you know that. Was I perfect? Of course not, and it’s these things I repent of. Lord, I want to go to heaven, I want to be with Grace when I die, I promise I’ll go to church and I will give Pastor Butler a call tomorrow and ask him to stop by. If you would tell Grace I love her and miss her I would appreciate it.”

  At this the old man reached into his pocket pulling out his hanky and dabbed at his eyes, he wasn’t an emotional man but he had got a little mushy if you will over Grace, Robbie, and the grandkids. Mr. Meyers felt a sense of peace and release from the burden he’d been feeling for the last couple of weeks. He turned and closed the still open lid of the garbage can and turned toward the house. As he turned to go back down the path, the wolves howled again, only this time they sounded as if they were right there. If Mr. Meyers had been looking down the alley, he may have seen them slink into both ends of the alley. He gasped in fear as he could clearly make them out as their eyes shone in the darkness. The wolves advanced toward him growling. The old man ran as fast as he could back toward the safety of the house, he slipped on a patch of ice never feeling the bone breaking landing he knew was coming. God took him before he hit the ground. Mr. Meyers fell into the arms of his beloved Grace.

  Cody Lemay knelt down in the blood-stained snow studying yet another cow carcass. Seven cows lay dead but only one had been eaten. The others were killed and mutilated but not feasted upon and this was strange to him.

  “God damned wolves!” He muttered getting to his feet. Cody winced as his knee reminded him he wasn’t a young buck anymore. He rarely felt the weight of his age but today looking at seven of his cows all of whom were also pregnant he felt every bit of his forty-four years and then some.

  Cody surveyed the damage once more. Something was wrong he could feel it. The land didn’t feel right. He also felt the sensation that someone or something was watching him and it made him uncomfortable, but he could see nothing in the brush and the tree lines around him.

  The land had been in his family since the expansion westward back in the 1860s with the Free Homestead Act. He wa
s born at a small hospital twenty miles away in the sleepy town of Falling Rock and had spent his entire life right here on the ranch working the 9,000-acre spread after he graduated from high school.

  His mother had died when he was young. Cancer taking the vibrant woman way too young. His father never remarried, choosing to throw himself into the ranch and raising Cody. It wasn’t all bad though. Cody did all the normal things growing up like sleepovers, scouts, birthday parties, played high school football and went to prom with his wife Jessi.

  He’d married Jessi his high school sweetheart. She had always seen through the sadness he tried so hard to hide from the world. He’d never been able to hide anything from her and her sweetness and unconditional love had given him the freedom to just be honest with not only her but himself about his feelings and moods.

  After the wedding, Jessi had moved in and set about turning the old log house into a home. The ranch had always made money but as Cody took over more and more of the day-to-day operations things had taken off. His father Charlie Lemay turned everything over to Cody realizing that his son was the future and semi-retired. He kept himself busy working on the ranch and had even taken up fishing in the mountain streams. He passed away suddenly one afternoon while he and Cody were out elk hunting in the mountains they both loved so much. They were miles away from help or cell service and Cody could do nothing but sit with his father as he passed away twenty minutes later.

  It had been Cody’s darkest day since his mother had passed so many years ago. He took comfort because his father passed away doing something he loved to do in the mountains he loved.