The First

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The First Page 5

by Michael Santana


  “Please sir, I won’t tell anyone please just let me go.” Mandy pleaded.

  Chapter 5

  “Shush child, I don’t want to forget my place. Now, where was I? Oh yes, the dungeon.”

  Maybe it was minutes, it might have been hours, but eventually, Typhon came. He had the same maniacal look in his eyes as he had hours before. The difference now was he seemed very pleased with himself. He was almost jovial in the way he now spoke to me.

  “How are we feeling?” he said as a wicked grin began to spread across his face. “Are we feeling satisfied?” he said smugly. He was really enjoying himself. I never understood how someone could take such pleasure in the pain of others. Well at that time I didn’t understand. I understand full well now.

  “Well, I do have other things to attend to. I have a young lady to entertain, don’t I?” Typhon said with a dark and throaty laugh as he looked into my eyes one last time.

  “Open his mouth.” he said to the guards “and be careful not to get this on you.”

  I pursed my lips together as tight as I could as they pulled and stretched at my face. My teeth were clenched so tight I feared they would shatter.

  “I said to open his damned mouth you fools, or you will be hanging next to him!” Typhon screamed.

  At this threat, a guard drew back and punched me in the stomach as hard as he could. My mouth flew open as I gasped for breath. The other guard grabbed me by the hair and violently jerked my head backward.

  The foul stench of the liquid filled my nostrils as the slime slid down my throat. I was held in that position, head back and mouth open until every drop of the hellish concoction emptied from its flask. The filth settled in my stomach and began its nasty work. I felt the numbness come over my body almost immediately. I heard chanting from Typhon. It was in a language I had never heard before. It seemed to be made mostly of guttural grunts and high-pitched screams. He danced around my hanging body, bobbing his head as he chanted. He dipped a brush in some greenish powder and blew the dust in my face and continued his dance.

  I couldn’t feel anything anymore. Even the pain in my arms and chest had ceased. I wasn’t able to take any comfort in this, because what was happening was far worse.

  “I will bind you,” he said gleefully. “Your soul will be stuck in that body forever.” The venom will do its work soon. I really don’t want to miss it, but as I said I have other plans,” he chided. “I’ll be back later though, and I’ll bring your little whore with me too.” He spat. “Cut him down. He is not going anywhere. Make sure to lay him on his side though. On his side, remember.” Typhon said before shutting the door.

  Laying there frozen in time, I could hear the screams of the others traveling down the hall. I listened as they begged and pleaded only to be followed by the sounds of their screaming. I wished I could, I wanted so badly to scream. Nausea came over me, and my skin started to crawl.

  Like a rupturing balloon, the torrents of food, some fully digested some not, burst from my mouth. I could only lie there as my body erupted in front of my eyes. The more I threw up the sicker I felt. This went on for about thirty minutes. Then the constant eruptions slowed down, and only aftershocks came. Then my body voided its waste. I lay there in my own filth and praying for death.

  The door creaked open, and I could hear voices.

  “Is he dead yet?” I heard one ask.

  “Seems like it,” said the other.

  “Well check him,” the first voice demanded.

  “Fine,” said the other. A second later, a face came into my view. He looked at me disgustedly.

  “He stinks,” he said.

  “Shut up and check him,” said the other. His hand reluctantly reached out and pressed against the side of my neck.

  “Nothing,” he said. He flipped me onto my back with a squishing sound. He then pressed his ear to my chest and reiterated, “Nothing at all. He’s dead,” he said.

  “Well you heard the master,” said the other. “Get him and this room cleaned up.” He barked. “You have till tomorrow night then the master will be back to check.”

  Time’s passage when your immobile is hard to explain. Seconds pass like hours and hours are like days. Because of that, I cannot honestly tell you how long I lay there. I can tell you, it felt like an eternity had passed before another face came into my view.

  When one did, it was the face of the priest. Blood dripped from his brow and lips as he leaned over me. His breath smelled rancid as if he eaten something long dead. It blanketed my face smothering me in its thick stench.

  “I can see why you would die for her. She is a spirited one, that girl. She has been crying out for you. Did you know that? No matter how many men I send her way, and I have sent many, she screams for you. I wonder if she would want your touch if she could see you now. I must say I do excellent work.” He turned my head left then right. “Wonderful! Absolutely beautiful. You never should have crossed me,” he said as he peered into my eyes.

  His hand came into view. In it, he held a mirror of highly polished bronze. He held it to my face in a slight angle so he could look in it as well. My reflection was hideous. My eyes had sunken deep into my face, the pupils gray as a stormy day. My cheeks, once robust and beautifully mocha colored, now looked like pale soot. The sides had also sunken in, my cheekbones protruded as if trying to break through the now blemished skin. The only thing unchanged was my teeth. They still shone brightly in contrast to the dead pallor of the lips that surrounded them. I don’t know how long he stood there and can’t tell you when he pulled the mirror from my face. The image of my reflection had been burned into my eyes.

  The concept of time eroded as I lay there motionless in the dark. Whips cracking against the flesh of tortured souls echoed through the halls.

  A mosquito landed on my hand and started to feed. This was the first sensation I had felt in a long time. I have never been a fan of insects, but this one I’ll remember forever. His bite was the first indication that my paralysis was wearing off. As it slowly fed from me, I willed my hand to move. For the longest time nothing happened, then all at once, the little finger jumped. “I Moved!” I thought to myself excitedly. “It wasn’t much, just a finger, but it moved.”

  Time crept by as I kept willing limbs to heed my commands. Slowly the feeling started to come back bringing with it a painful tingle. Eventually, I could lift an arm. A few moments later, I raised the other. My legs were next. Feeling like massive boulders, they ultimately gave into my commands. Trembling arms gave way under my weight as I tried to rise from the slab. My head bounced off the ungiving surface. The second attempt ended with me falling off the edge of the stone table. I reached out trying to catch myself, grabbing on to a nearby stand, accidentally pulling the tray of Typhon’s instruments off. The crash as they hit the ground rang out in the vast room and out into the hall.

  I felt the strength returning to my legs when I finally noticed a guard who had been sleeping in the corner. I was pulling myself back up the slab when he saw me and screamed.

  “Demon thing!” he shouted pulling his sword. I understood his fear. He declared me dead and placed me on the slab. I tried to speak, but only gurgling sounds came from my throat. He advanced on me, sword raised.

  I swung my arms wildly, knocking one of the torches off the wall in his direction. He quickly sidestepped this and thrust his sword forward, piercing my side. The blade slid in easily between the two ribs. He thrust again and missed. I found the torch I had knocked over earlier. I grabbed it and swung with the little strength I had left striking him across the face. He staggered back as the flames licked at his eyes. I tried to hit him again, but then my right leg, still not entirely in my control, buckled. I fell backward on the floor as he stumbled to my left to clear his vision.

  As I lay there dying, barely able to move with the blood seeping from my body, he stepped in again. This time I was
ready. I reached out with my left hand and caught the descending arm. Kicking out with my legs, I tripped him as he came forward. The weight of his falling body brought him in closer to me. Then it happened. Oh, the wonderful event that would change the world forever. During the struggle, his blade came loose, and as we fought for it, a small slice opened under his chin. Blood from the small wound fell in my open mouth as we struggled.

  This wasn’t intentional. There was no plan. It was the universes’ greatest mistake. The euphoria, the rush, the taste as the first droplet hit my tongue cannot be described in words. My body stiffened as I felt the power course through me. Like a rabid animal, I attacked. I had to open that wound. I needed more of the sweet nectar that was his life force.

  When I pressed my lips to his throat, it was by instinct. The pygmies had done me a great service that I never realized until that day. My fangs sank into him and tore open his throat. Like a parasite, I leeched on.

  The blood came in waves, and I drank. No, it was more than drinking. It was glorious gluttony. I pulled with every fiber of my being. With each pump of the heart, I received another burst of pure joy. I noticed without much care that he was trying to pull away. I embraced him even tighter. Yes, embrace is the perfect word for something so heavenly. The blood started coming with less and less force. I squeezed him as you would a lemon, trying to get every drop. Finally, sadly it was over. The blood pumped no more.

  The cloud of misery that had consumed me was gone. I felt elated. I was floating with pure pleasure and adrenaline. I could feel the blood, his blood, coursing through me. I felt more alive than I had ever felt in my entire life. Deciding to move the enormous dead man off me, I pressed my hands against his chest and prepared myself to push. I wasn’t prepared for what happened next. I shoved, and the body flew into the air, crashing into a wall on the far side of the room.

  Then without the slightest effort, I was on my feet. I noticed something immediately. After all that had happened, I wasn’t breathing hard. In fact, I wasn’t breathing at all. I looked down at my hands and could see the blood moving through my veins. I looked around, and everything was different. It was the same but different. It was as if everything had its own aura. The tiger skin rug on the floor seemed to come to life at my touch. The pictures drawn on the wall danced with each other, spinning around and around they went.

  I heard voices. I really couldn’t discern where they came from. They seemed to come from all around and all at once, a myriad of images rushed through my mind. I saw a child’s dreams of play, and another’s nightmares of rabid dogs tearing his flesh. I heard men thinking horrible thoughts about their own wives as they fantasized about another’s. I saw wives who envisioned poisoning their beloved husbands with the venom of asps.

  A smell crept into my nose, and I sniffed the air. I, of course, smelled the newly dead man lying in a heap, upside down with his head twisted between his shoulder blades in the queerest of ways. I also smelled the waste that was now evacuating his body with sick, wet sounds. I smelled perfume. It had the sweetest smell of sweat mixed in ever so lightly. It was somewhere right outside these walls. My eyes glanced over the room once more. I needed out of that room. I needed to find that smell. I saw the door on the far side of the room, and it beckoned me to come. To my surprise, I crossed the room in an instant. In the blink of an eye, I had traveled nearly fifty feet.

  Still amazed at all the wonderful things that were happening to me, I turned the handle and pushed. Nothing happened, the door didn’t budge. I pushed harder. I could hear the massive wooden door start to creak, but it would not give. I pulled at the bars in the little window in the door. The bars, very deep-seated in the wood, didn’t move. I peered through to see that the beam was in place, barring the door and effectively locking me inside.

  This gave me a little bit of time to assess my new situation. I went over what I had learned up to then. I wasn’t breathing. I was, however, walking around. I had just killed a man twice my size with minimal effort. I could hear thoughts, from what I supposed was far away. I moved at inhuman speeds with a mere thought. Oh yes, and the blood, how could I ever forget the blood. The smell of it, the taste of it, and the euphoria it brought with it as it surged down my throat. They always say, “You never forget your first.” I can attest to that. You never do.

  As I walked along the room pondering, I came across a silver serving tray. It had been polished to the point I could see my reflection in it. My eyes glowed with an amber hue. My skin was the color of crystallized caramel. Lips full and flush, with a slight violet tint, smiled back at me. The most prominent difference I noticed were the gifts I had received from the pygmies. The teeth they had filed into fangs were now twice their normal size and razor sharp.

  What a magnificent sight I had become. The reflection I saw, was a beautiful creature. I was admiring myself, mesmerized by my appearance, when I heard footsteps nearing the door. At the same time, thoughts that weren’t my own crept into my mind.

  “Stupid cow! If your father weren’t on the high council, I would slit your damn throat.” He came closer still. “Now, to make matters worse, I have to guard a stupid slave. Why doesn’t the priest just kill him or turn him into an ocelot or something?”

  I could hear his heartbeat through the door. “Badump, Badump, Badump,” his organ pounded. It called out to me with a rhythm that made every fiber in me sing. I thought to cry out for him to open the door and come in, or to let me out. Something inside me told me to wait. The time wasn’t right, not yet.

  A few seconds later another’s thoughts entered my head. It was the priest. Typhon! He was coming near and was gleefully looking forward to seeing how I had progressed. It seemed he had more in store for poor little me. He had more in store for me? But that was a person that no longer existed. I chuckled to myself when I decided what was now in store for the supposed all-powerful priest.

  However, it wasn’t to be. Well, it wasn’t to be yet. A chorus of thoughts crowded in my mind. I heard the thoughts of eight maybe nine men. There was a whole cadre with him. What was his plan for me? Perhaps he planned to parade me out in front of Keeza. I could tell by his thoughts, Typhon had violated Keeza, in so many ways.

  He had found so many ways to sexually degrade her, and his sick mind was still trying to think of more. After he had used her in the filthiest and most inhumane ways he could imagine, he had made her dance for all his guards. He then watched as they savagely raped her. He cheered with every scream she cried out. He coached as the men took turns brutally ravaging her, sometimes two or three at a time. When they were finally finished, she was a bloody mess. Laughing, he stood over her limp, brutalized and bloody body. He rubbed his hand up and down her, through her bloody wounds causing her to whimper. He then smeared the blood across his face with a smile.

  Her screams for mercy, then for death ignored. Yet they still rang out in his mind. They also rang out in mine. I heard every whimper, every animalistic grunt of the men, and I listened to every time she cried out for me to save her. Oh, my beautiful Keeza, what did they do to you?

  Her screams echoed through his mind still giving him twisted pleasure. I wasn’t going to let him hurt her again. That is when she woke, and her thoughts came to me in a flash. They had brought her with them. Typhon planned to let her see what he had done to me, or at least what he thought he had done. He imagined the horror in her face. The disgust she would feel at the sight of my deathlike state. Then he planned vile things for the two of us. Vile stuff I was never going to let happen. Her heartbeat stood out from the rest. It was beating so rapidly I could hardly keep the count. Like a lazy drum roll, it played in my mind. She was scared and in terrible pain. She prayed for death to come and take her before more could be done. She cursed herself, and she cursed me for what had happened. She had been defiled, soiled, and she wanted to be done with all of it.

  I quietly stepped back into the shadows as the beam on the do
or started to slide noisily, up and off it. I waited in silence. If I had still had a breath in me, I would have held it. My muscles tensed with anticipation. The door opened with a slight screeching noise. Two guards walked in first followed by the priest. Two more guards walked in dragging Keeza between them.

  Keeza saw the twisted upside-down corpse and screamed. At this, the priest looked in the direction of the body, then to the slab where he had left me. Seeing the now vacant table, his eyes flashed with alarm. I sensed his heart double its beats. It seems he sensed me too because his eyes quickly turned to the shadows. His eyes turned to my shadow to be exact. He called out my name.

  “Zili” He called. “Zili, step out and let the lovely young lady see what she wasted her life on.” Into the light, I stepped. His mind raced when he saw me. Demon types of all different sorts ran through his head. He stared at me barely holding his composure. Then he smiled. His heart pounded thunderously in his chest; still he smiled. His eyes were wide with wonder. He motioned to one of the guards to bring me to him. The burly guard overcame his initial shock and stepped forward. His first step was his last. As he started, I leaped forward onto him and instinctively sunk my teeth deep into his neck. Once again, the lovely nectar of the gods was flowing between my lips and down my throat. I shivered with pleasure as I locked on tighter, my eyes never leaving Typhon. At the sight of this Keeza fainted straight away. The guards holding her started backing toward the door. Her head struck the hard stone floor with a loud thud. Still, I drank, I wanted so badly to let him fall and to kill the priest for what he had done. The sweet elixir of life had me in its grasp though, and I could do nothing but drink every delicious drop. I was still drinking when Typhon backed out and locked the door.

  When the blood finally stopped flowing, I gave him one more squeeze so tight that I felt his ribs splinter and break. With little more than a flick of my wrist, I tossed him across the room with the other corpse.

 

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