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The Acolyte
Copyright 2007 by Mary Harris [aka redplanetes]

Chapter 13

Mena slept fitfully, harried by nervous dreams and the occasional noise of the monster coming and going. Every time she opened her eyes it was eating voraciously. The memory returned unbidden, of teeth and claws ripping a man apart, pearly entrails spilling from a ragged abdomen. She saw the creature in a new light, after that ghastly execution. A monster, truly; vicious, brutal, merciless, and above all, hungry. Mena wondered uneasily if the monster was eating so much to relieve the temptation to eat her, now that Aunt Hel was away.

She lay awake for a long time before getting up. What am I gonna do now? Her only human companion miles away, her host a dangerous - but thrilling - creature. I'm sure we can get up to some mischief, just the two of us, ...but it'll take some getting used to.

Mena finally opened her eyes - it was quite dim in the control room, only the intimate glow of a few candles near the stainless steel worktable. The monster's hunched form sat on a stool, its wing-framed back to her while it carved on a bone.

Sitting up slowly, she felt a familiar warm drip, the ache of cramps. Oh nice. And I don't even have any clean undies left. She kneeled beside her backpack rummaging for a tampon, happened to glance over at the monster. It was perfectly still, except for the chest, which twitched spasmodically with rapid inhalations.

Just like when it pounced on that guy last night, and sniffed his head.

The savage face turned slowly, to meet her gaze. The monster's eyes were glazed with hunger. Blood ran out of Mena's face. Oh shit... I'm dead meat.

She desperately looked around, searching for somewhere to run. It was hopeless, though, and she knew she had no chance of outrunning the monster anyway. She steeled herself for the impact, seeing the grey shape descending upon her with frightening speed. It knocked her down, easily dodged her flailing limbs. Mena couldn't stop herself from crying out wordlessly; she struggled to push the eager, ravenous thing away, but it wouldn't budge. It sniffed frantically all over her, homing in on her crotch with a growl.

Rough, thick claws tore at her shorts, shredded them open, and the creature pushed its furrowed face into her groin, inhaling deeply. Mena was horrified, didn't want those teeth anywhere near her privates - oh fuck!... She almost squealed. ...Its going to eat me alive, from the inside out! She wailed as the monster dug claws into her thighs, pulling them apart, but she wasn't prepared for the melting, sticky-sweet sensation that followed. The monster drew a languorous, tenative tongue along her lower lips, tasting the blood that moistened them, then it closed its whole mouth over her.

She felt like her whole body was liquefied, electric molten pleasure coursed through her. She still wasn't altogether sure she'd mistaken the monster's intent, but if this was its appetizer, ...maybe being a meal wouldn't be so bad. Having seen those long, sharp teeth crowding its black mouth, she'd never have imagined it could do this without causing horrible mutilation. An occasional scrape of teeth against her moist, swelling folds only served to intensify her sensations, a heart-racing reminder that at any second it could just take a huge bite out of her.

The monster's grunts reverberated through her flesh as it squeezed her closer, mashed its face against her delicate cleft. Its tongue wandered, snaking all around, in and out of soft furrows, deep inside her. It lapped with desperate urgency, breathing heavily. Mena's limbs were tangled among the creature's, she could feel the tense strength in that inhuman body. She gasped deeply, unable to move, as the monster's lip pressed at her tiny pearl. Sensing her reaction, the creature pressed harder, leering through slick folds.

Mena came hard, orgasm crashing down on her, smothering her. Her body arched painfully, heaving against the monster's solid bulk, before her pleasure slowly released her, allowed her to take great gulping breaths. Aching cramps had metamorphosed into deep contractions, sweeter than honey. They subsided slow as a tide, drawn out by the persistent tongue, which continued to delve and curl within her. The monster had slowed to a more relaxed pace, but gave no sign of letting up, rather seemed to be settling in for a leisurely meal.

Its body entwined with hers, half-laying over her. The monster kneaded her thighs and buttocks, frantic grunts having given way to deep purring growls. Mena turned her sweat-glossed head aside, her slitted eyes resting on the creature's loins, hovering close. Through the weird nest of white hair, its knobby grey cock stood, stiff and pulsing faintly. One of the monster's legs passed over her shoulder, and she was able to crane her neck, get nearer the trembling organ.

It didn't look like any other pecker she'd ever seen, not just because of its disarming color, but it had the same odd, lumpy texture as the monster's skin. Still, the way it stretched so eagerly, it was irresistible. She breathed on it, then took the tip between her lips.

The monster jerked instantly, and Mena felt a sharp pain between her legs. It released her, turning to look at her, astonished. Its face was smeared with blood, and it licked its lips absently. The wicked gleam returned to its eyes, and it sat up, bending over Mena, sniffing aggressively at her face. A red-streaked tongue ran along her chin, her jawline, and the monster growled while smelling again.

To her dismay, it began to turn away, to resume its earlier feast. She couldn't wait any longer, and before it imprisoned her with its weight she jumped up, pushed the grey beast off balance. It tumbled aside, caught off guard, and Mena threw herself atop it, quickly snaking her legs around the monster's so that it couldn't easily dislodge her. It whined angrily, but grasped her hips in steely hands, shoved her down onto its hungry cock.

Mena arched back with the rough fullness, her hands braced on the creature's muscled stomach, and ground herself against its pelvis. The monster thrust back, hard and sharp, and then she saw its wings moving, not quite unfurling, but reaching around like two nightmarish, bony hands to grasp her. It pushed itself upright, still clutching her tightly, pulling at her hips. Mena's legs were wound firmly around it, but her upper body shuddering and loose, supported only by the leathery fingers of its wingtips. The monster bucked into her furiously, snarling and hissing, and put a spread hand on her chest, holding her away; a remote part of Mena's mind was grateful for that.

When it lunged towards her, just snapping at the air between them, she howled, stricken with ecstasy. Mena fell back, her taut body pushing out of the wings' embrace, the impact with the floor squeezing the last cry of pleasure from her lungs. Pounding against her with abandon, the creature seemed to be trying to crawl inside her, or split her in two. It shook violently, bared its teeth to the air, let out an anguished groan, became still. In the silence that followed, Mena became aware of the wild hammering of her heart, so loud she could almost hear the echoes in the vast room.

The creature released her, clawtips moist from where they had dug in, and she grimaced when she saw the monster's groin, a bright red stain on stringy white hairs. She winced as it slid from her, sore from the monster's nip and their mutual fervor, and she began to get up, but the creature had other ideas. It pushed her back and made to return to its earlier feast; she protested feebly, half inclined to let it have its way. As it bent down over her crotch, Mena's stomach grumbled loudly. The monster looked at her, chastised, and she laughed. "Yeah, sex makes me hungry, too."

It let her up this time, and she stumbled bow-legged to her dwindling pile of snacks. The creature followed, staying close, even rubbing against her as she sat on her heels and ate. Shit, it's like a cat on catnip. How weird is that... The dark, bony head was drawn irrestistably to her blood-smeared loins. Finally it tore its attention away, looking befuddled, and gathered a few hasty items for a trip out. It was still licking the last of her taste from its face as it fled to find a meal.

Mena finished her breakfast, then gathered a few fresh clothes for a trip to the leaking pipe. She cleaned herself up carefully, hoping the monster wouldn't act that way for the next week. Not that it would be so bad, ...just...creepy. Maybe plugging myself with a tampon will help. I'll have to ask Aunt Hel about this...

She frowned, worry returning in a chilly wave. Nothing in her life had prepared her for the past few days, living with a carnivorous monster, hunting with it, ...fucking it.

And this was her aunt's 'man', Aunt Hel's Special Guy. It was more than just a little disturbing how easily Mena had been included in this relationship. She knew her aunt better than most, knew she wasn't inclined to share her personal life with anyone. Neither of them seemed to be bothered in the least, yet there was a mysterious connection between Aunt Hel and her bloodthirsty creature; they were like an old married couple sometimes, not even needing words to convey their attraction, their devotion to one another.

Mena was sure no such connection bound herself and the monster. Her aunt seemed to understand the creature, even trust it. The girl found the monster tantalizing and charismatic, like Aunt Hel did, but at the same time somewhat... horrible. She had a sneaking suspicion the creature would have no qualms about killing and eating her, only refrained so as not to upset her aunt. Yet... it hadn't tried to eat her in the hours they'd been alone together.

Well... Her lips curled up.

* * * * *

Helen lay on a hard steel table. The air was cold, but her skin felt numb, disconnected. No, not my skin, ...me. I'm not attached to my body the way I should be. She was mostly nude, and didn't care. A doctor, or that's what he seemed to be, was doing something to her body. Implanting black metal rods, creating new joints, grossly elongating her bones. She distantly understood that she was the subject of a mad scientist's experiment, a creation, no longer either human nor alive in the usual sense.

When her new body was completed, she had no will of her own. Like the somnabulist Cesar in The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, Helen could only watch from a distance as she obeyed the doctor, carrying out his criminal schemes, a mindless tool. She couldn't even feel angry about it. She couldn't feel anything.

* * * * *

Making her way back up to the control room, Mena saw that the monster had already returned, two half-eaten corpses leaking puddles onto the floor. The bodies were waterlogged. Must be raining outside. It gave her a look when she entered, a measuring stare as it held a fistful of soggy flesh halfway to its face. Then, seeming content, it continued its meal. She decided to give the monster a wide berth for a while.

However, when the creature had finished off the two carcasses and returned to its carving, her curiosity began nagging. She carefully wandered closer, wanting to be sure the smell of her blood wouldn't get it worked up again. She was too sore to really enjoy it anyway, and she felt a little guilty about wallowing in such debauchery while her aunt was lying on a surgery table, far away.

The bone had taken form, an elegant cylinder carefully carved with flowing images. Mena saw that there were similar finished pieces lying on the table, each with inset ends to fit into the next. Studying them, she calculated that when assembled, they would form a long narrow rod. She picked up the largest segment, ran her fingertips over the polished image carved into it.

At the very top, a set of gaping jaws surrounded what would be the fitting for something, maybe the tang of a blade. Below the jaws, a creature - the creature - mouth wide, ready to bite, wings spread in glory. And shamelessly, a woman upside-down, astride its hips, her head thrown back with obvious rapture. Mena turned the bone upside down to see better... it was Aunt Hel. No doubt about it. Skulls and screaming figures fled from her ecstatic form; she seemed to drink from their terror, her arms spread to encompass them.

This was the second such carving she had seen, of the monster and her aunt, blissful together. What ever this was, the creature had an undeniable regard for Helen that approached affection. As unlikely as that seemed for a monster who enjoyed tearing people apart, it was right here in front of her. She had to know.

"What is my aunt to you? Is... is she your... mate?"

The creature turned its wrinkled head to look at her curiously. It picked up a piece of black wax it had been rubbing into the carvings, scrawled words on the tabletop.

Mena considered this seriously for a moment, then a laugh burst from her. "So are dicks, but you've got one!"

It was unflustered, and wrote again.

It stopped, but held onto the lump, pondering, an intrigued look passing over its usually menacing face. The monster scratched letters on the table, forming a single, deliberate word.

Well, and that's true, I've seen it for myself, Mena thought. Who else but my Aunt Hel would be a friend to ...this? "And me? she asked, tenative. What am I to you?"

Tossing a quick, sly glance at her, the creature scribbled -

Goosebumps broke out on her skin. She swallowed hard, had to struggle to raise her eyes to the creature's.

Before she made it, the monster's grating laugh bellowed into the air. It was kidding again. Strangely, this grisly joke made her feel much better. It knew what she was so nervous about, and was teasing her.

* * * * *

Helen lay in her starched hospital bed, grinding her teeth. It wasn't just the insidious ache that was creeping through the veil of anesthesia, but the whole hopeless situation. She had been informed of her condition and the initial surgery when she awoke in the morning; a pair of nurses prepping her and a doctor droning about what they would be doing to her today, long-term therapy and options only a vague, shifting mirage right now. Too sickened by the heavy sedation to argue, she had no alternative but to let them do as they pleased.

And now, contaminated by futuristic hardware and a hundred different chemicals to numb her, feed her, and sedate her, she had this new onslaught to face - ...herself.

I shouldn't be allowed to live.

I can't even take care of myself anymore, not in a way that won't be anathema to everything I believe. That bitch says I'll barely be able to walk unless I give up my rights, my freedom, and accept the high-tech prosthesis. No more time with my monster... why would it want to hang around with an invalid? And I've let down my treasure, my Maenad.

Who'd have thought a body could be such a traitor.

She had already made enemies of several of the staff. Most of the nurses either avoided entering the room while she was awake, or completely ignored her. Helen had found only one possible ally so far, a stout nurse with steel-grey hair and a stony countenance, who had come to secure the temporary brace in preparation for surgery. A younger male nurse, assisting, had talked non-stop, going on about the gloomy weather, the news, his wife, the price of gas, the price of lattes, etc. Finally reaching her limit, Helen had interrupted him.

"Shut up." The stream of trivialities stopped short, and the nurse stared open-mouthed at his patient. "For god's sake just shut up." The man's lips formed into a stiff line, and he petulantly continued his duties, silent until they were finished. The older nurse had cracked a tiny, brief smile, shared a knowing glance with Helen. Helen gave a slight nod of understanding; this woman had to work with that blabbermouth all day, and didn't have the authority to say those much needed words.

Now the surgery was over, and her anesthesia mostly worn off, and ugly reality was barging in. Thunder rolled outside, and spatters of rain tapped against the window near her bed. This is the worst day of my life. And it will only get worse from here...

* * * * *

Mena strode up the wide hallway, carefully holding her paper-wrapped parcel away from her face. She sniffed, an odor of recycled air and sterilized plastic filled the building. An unpleasantly familiar person approached - Dr. Allen, striding towards her with acidic determination. As she neared, Mena saw a bright, purple-red bruise blossoming underneath the doctor's left eye. A furious glare told the girl that the injury had gone deeper.

"So... you talked to my aunt, I see?" Mena said, trying hard to not sound so amused. "I did warn you."

"Ms. Murdoch is being most uncooperative." The doctor sucked on her teeth, holding her temper in check. "I have declined to press assault charges for this, since the anesthesiologist informed me that hallucinations and aggression could be side effects of the drugs used. However." A malignant gleam sparked in her eye as she raised her chin. "I highly recommend you talk some sense into your aunt. She is an intelligent woman, I'm sure, but stubbornness will not improve her situation. Good day."

With that she swept on down the hallway, daring everyone she stared at to notice her brand-new shiner.

* * * * *

Helen heard the door hissing open, quickly closed her eyes, pretended to be asleep. It was the unique sound of boots walking towards her that made her open them again, curious. Relief washed over her, tainted with shame.

"Mena...!"

The girl was striding directly over to her, a kaleidescope of emotions on her face. She held something behind her back, pulled it out as she reached the end of Helen's bed. It was a huge bouquet, and as Mena unwrapped the newspaper from around it, a gangly fountain of blackberry canes sprang free, heavy with both fruit and flowers.

"Ta-daaa!" Mena held them aloft, dodging the cruel thorns. "I figured they wouldn't be feeding you proper." She set them in the water pitcher sitting on a small table, noticing the despair drowning her aunt's face. "Just saw your handiwork on Dr. Allen. You beat me to the punch."

"She provoked me." Helen's dark eyes swung up, and she managed a smug sneer."She's lucky that's all she got. If I could get up, I'd kick her in the face before walking out of here..." Bleak disgust returned, smearing her mouth into a scowl.

Mena felt crushed. "Oh Aunt Hel, please don't hate me!" she blurted out. "I had to bring you here... I couldn't just let you die!"

The woman's face crumbled, chastened. "Mena, my maenad... I could never hate you, don't you dare think that." Reaching out to squeeze Mena's hand, she sighed. "I'm just cranky is all, especially since Dr. Bitch came and gave me an ultimatum. She actually threatened me, says I'll be virtually handicapped if I don't do what she wants, but I think she's full of shit..."

She tossed back the covers, revealing her thigh. It was now encased in a sleek, stainless steel cage, which attached to rods emerging from her skin, from the top of her hip to below her kneecap. "What do you think?" she asked dryly. "I call it Inquisition Chic. It's torture, but it's shiny!"

Helen's hardware

Mena took a deep breath. "God, Aunt Hel... that looks like it hurts!"

"Not nearly as much as before. This is taking the place of the shattered bone... an exoskeleton, sort of. It's all external because it has to be adjusted constantly. It can bear all the weight that the bone did before ...and never will again, on its own." A grim cloud passed over her again. "It can be permanent, if I don't get the fancy stuff."

"Plan A?" Mena asked darkly.

"I won't have it." Mena recognised her aunt's tone, that of a mule digging its heels in. "Can you believe that woman actually tried to use vanity to convince me at first! I had to laugh in her face. She told me nobody likes to see this kind of hardware, that I would have social difficulties because of it." She laughed bitterly. "Then she tried to scare me, said the brace isn't pretty, merely functional, and not very at that."

Helen became more serious. "Here's the rub. My femur is toast. They had to remove a lot, the diseased parts were ruined even before they broke. What's left will knit together eventually - I'm on massive doses of bone-building drugs..." the disgust in her voice ate through like bile, "but it will never hold my weight again. And it will never bear the pull of muscles, either." She paused, silent for a moment. "They attached the ends of my muscles to these rods," Helen gestured at the metal coming from her flesh, "but they can't do much. I might be able to walk, and that's about all." Mena could see the black wheels turning in her aunt's head at the prospect of shuffling around uselessly, for the rest of her days.

Helen turned her head away, and an angry sob escaped her throat. "Don't see me..." she hissed.

A scratching sound came from the storm-dark window. They both turned to look, saw the grim face of the monster peering in, dripping with rain. Two faces brightened, and Mena ran over to open the window, glancing over her shoulder to make sure no one else in the small ward could see. The creature nimbly jumped onto the floor with a thud, water running from its coat and floppy hat.

Helen felt like she could fly. The straps securing her torso to the bed "for her protection" couldn't restrain her spirits as she beheld her monster, returned to her in the unlikeliest of places. It ambled over to her bedside, one arm behind its back, then brought it forward and revealed the bouquet it had made her.

A bouquet of human legs, the balls of femurs gleaming from torn flesh. Toe tags dangled from two of the legs. Another was dripping bright, fresh blood onto the puddled floor.

A squeak got Mena's attention. She looked down; her aunt had her hands over her face, and was shaking. The muffled sounds suddenly burst into a full-throated laugh, a laugh like a song. The monster was laughing along, a gruff "huhhhh huhhh huhhhhh," that rumbled through the ward, a harmony to Helen's melody.

"Ohhh, you are so sweet," panted Helen. "And I am such a fool." She shook her head, beaming. "How could I have doubted? I'll be just fine."

The dark, dripping creature patted her head, began sniffing curiously at her leg. Mena sat down gingerly in a chair beside her aunt, wincing. The uncomfortable fidgeting didn't go unnoticed; Helen threw a questioning glance at her niece, asked, "You ok?"

A small, pained grin passed over Mena's face. "New piercing."

End of Chapter 13


A/N: Helen's leg brace is loosely based on a dream I had in college (the dream Helen has while under), and Mad Max's leg brace in The Road Warrior. The carving the monster is working on is taken from the carving on the knife Jack Taggart Jr. found in the cornfield.


The Acolyte and illustrations Copyright 2007 by Mary Harris [aka redplanetes]
~plagarists will be flayed alive~


redplanet@trinidadusa.net



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