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The Acolyte
Copyright 2007 by Mary Harris [aka redplanetes]

Chapter 4

"Mornin', sunshine." Helen greeted her bleary-eyed niece as though she was awake and chipper herself, but Mena knew her aunt was the opposite of a morning person. Still, the smell of fresh coffee, strong and black as night, was worth getting out of bed for. They sat sipping and breathing coffee fumes for a long time; eventually Helen rose and made breakfast. As they plowed into their fried eggs and bacon, she spoke up. "Tell me what you dreamed about last night."

Mena groaned, rubbing her eyes while she chewed. "I dreamed I was driving on endless country highways, and I couldn't find what I was looking for, just kept getting more and more lost. Fuck, what a nightmare... Oh wait, no that was last week," she giggled. "Last night...huhh. I dreamed..." she furrowed her eyebrows, stopped chewing. "I dreamed about... wind... wind that was alive..."

"Yes."

Mena opened her eyes; her aunt was gazing at her intently. "It wasn't a normal dream. It was more... vivid."

Helen nodded slowly.

"...him...?" the girl asked softly.

Helen smiled, flicked an eyebrow up. Then she laid back into her breakfast, humming a tune quietly to herself. Mena recognized it a minute later; it was one her aunt had played often when she babysat - "The Little Man Who Wasn't There".

"Does he have a name?" the girl asked, nursing the last of her coffee.

"No. I guess a name is superfluous when you're the only one."

It was midday before they were dressed and ready to go. Helen had, with a gleam in her eye, advised her niece that they might be gone for a couple of days. Mena noticed an assortment of unusual homemade weapons and a change of clothes spilling from her aunt's carpetbag.

They peeled out of the yard, stereo already cranked up. "Can you remember where the cave is?" Helen shouted over the music; Mena nodded, grinning, and mashed on the gas pedal. Just over an hour later the blue Mustang crunched onto the shoulder. Helen scanned the area, pointed to a clump of trees. "Pull in behind those if you can. Your car will attract unwanted attention if you leave it on the highway. Like other things..." With a little manuevering they got the car out of sight in the undergrowth, and set out towards the cave.

Helen once again led the girl down into the earth, but this time the air smelled less stale, as though it had been moved around and brought back to life. The familiar scents of blood and formaldehyde seasoned their arrival in the main cavern. It was lit again, this time by a halogen spotlight pointed at a wall to diffuse the beam.

"Honey, I'm home!" Helen singsonged. The grey creature looked over from a far wall. It was hanging a newly stuffed body - a young man with a gaping hole in his crotch - in one of the few empty spaces left.

Mena couldn't help staring as they walked towards the creature. It wasn't wearing the coat and hat anymore, and with the clothing had discarded any remaining semblance of being human. The wings - wings, oh my god they're real - were folded tightly against its powerful back. The skin was dark grey, but still somehow looked like living skin, albeit with a rough, bumpy texture. The monster had muscles that looked like business; its whole body suggested unstoppable purpose. As she neared, she noticed other features; the tail of rough white hair at the base of its skull, the bony claws that seemed to wrap around its head. Mena was fascinated, she just stood and gawked, taking in the strange creature.

Helen had set her bag down with a clunk, and was pulling something out. As the creature finished adjusting the body and turned, she held up an old license plate. BEATNGU. The monster laughed loudly, strode over to take the plate, and handed Helen her ulu back.

"Your truck still run?" she asked. It smirked, nodded proudly, then gestured with its chin to the cave entrance. "I'm ready," she answered, turned to Mena. "You wanna go for a ride?"

The girllooked eager but mystified. "Yeah... but... he has a truck?" she whispered.

"You'll see."

The creature was pulling on a pair of moth-eaten pants, its long coat, and the tattered hat.

Mena hissed again, "He can drive?"

Helen smiled with a pained look. "Yeahh, but not very well.." The girl's eyes widened with horror, and her aunt laughed. "Just kidding!"

They hiked the half-mile to the overgrown clearing where the huge tank of a truck was parked. "Wowww! This is his truck? Woww!" Mena was in love; she grinned from ear to ear. The creature bolted the plate back on as Helen climbed inside, helping her niece up into the cab. "Best to just stay on the floor until we get to the highway." Helen was already using her carpetbag as a cushion, leaning against the back wall.

The truck was backed down the decayed ruts with practiced ease, and soon they pulled onto pavement. Mena just kept looking back at the mind-boggling creature, now oddly human-like again. But she had seen it, knew it was just the clothes and the fact that it was driving a truck that cast the illusion. It noticed her staring, grinned and winked at her. She blinked, surprised. This guy is so ...incongruous.

A few minutes later the monster spotted something ahead, and urged the truck faster. Mena's eyes widened as she realized the truck was modified, and very well; the sound and power of the engines was like her own car's, but even more bad-ass. Helen touched the girl's arm. "Hang on," she said. They were about to run right into the back of a car, and Mena nervously clutched the dash, bracing for the impact. At the last second the monster slowed and began blaring his deafening klaxon horn. The car zig-zagged back and forth, and the creature bent to the vents, was instantly excited by what it smelled.

It began pumping on the gas pedal, causing the truck to smash repeatedly into the violently weaving car. The driver lost control and the car spun around, blowing out a tire and coming to a stop facing the wrong direction. The creature braked with such haste that the two women were thrown against the dash before falling ungracefully back to the floor. It gave a quick sheepish look, then got out and approached the car. The man inside had gotten out and was standing by the blown-out tire, pulling his hair and screaming creative obscenities. As the monster in disguise approached, the man turned and began ranting. "You fucking psycho son-of-a-fucking-bitch! What the fuck is wrong with y-" At that moment the creature's huge dark hand shot out and closed on the man's throat, lifting him off the ground slightly. The man was dragged whimpering to the back of the truck, and the vehicle rocked slightly for a few minutes as the monster packaged his find.

Soon they were on the road again, and a short time later pulled into a familiar neighborhood of weedy ruins. The abandoned houses and half-crumbled buildings still sat forgotten and sinking into oblivion. The factory, however, had collapsed entirely. A sprawling mound of broken red bricks and a few iron pillars still standing amid the rubble was all that remained. The ramp that led down to the basement was buried under several feet of debris.

"...the bathtub..." Helen sighed. The monster was unfazed, though, it shrugged and turned the truck back to the highway. "Tar Pits?" she asked. Her creature nodded.

It took a more direct route than the last time they had driven there, and they pulled up to the refinery in an hour. Helen noticed a perturbed look on its faceas they pulled further in. It gestured for them to stay at the truck while it went into the rust-stained building. Helen's face lit up when it retured a few minutes later carrying the old Victrola and a stack of 78's. She saw with a smile that her old chalkboard was balanced on top.

Helen took the board; her creature had scratched a few words on it.


The monster glanced at the rotting tanks and pipes.

"Well... where to now? The House of Pain?" Mena's head turned at that, she shot an interested look at her aunt. The creature shook its head though, grinning wryly. "Burned." Helen frowned, but her strange friend continued. "Other places..." They climbed back into the truck and set out once more.

Twenty minutes later and a few turns onto increasingly decrepit roads, they arrived at a small institutional building that had obviously been long since abandoned. The remains of yellow paint were peeling and flaking away from the concrete exterior, and few of the tall windows in its blank, cheerless face remained intact. Helen realized what the place was as they walked around the side; she glimpsed the long blackboards on the walls inside. There is something about a schoolbuilding that just screams "You're not here to have fun!" But school was out, and from the looks of it, had been out for a very long time.

The creature led them down into a pitch-dark basement from a side hatch. Sure enough, when it lit a few candles, the space bore the signature of her friend's long occupation. A few dozen bodies, preserved and posed on walls and ceilings; projects half-finished on tables; a few small piles of bones and skulls. The walls of the basement were made up of the rough-hewn stones of the foundation, while the ceiling, like the rest of the building, was thick concrete.

"God, this place is like a bomb shelter," Mena commented, strolling around. The grey monster had gone back out, and now returned with arms full of music and the sheet-wrapped man. Helen crowed and began setting up the record player, selected a disc and started it playing.

Mena kneeled to examine the wrapped bundle. The man inside was alive, but not enjoying it at all. Whimpers game from under the stained sheet. She peeled the cloth back, and a hand reached out, desperately clawing and grabbing. The girl leapt back cursing angrily, holding her scratched face.

The creature strolled over, abruptly crouched down beside the flailing arm. As the hand came into range the monster snapped at it, biting the fingers cleanly off. A hoarse scream filled the room. Helen turned the music up louder, then rummaged in her bag, coming up with a machete-like blade. She turned to the thrashing figure, and with a deadly gleam in her eye, brought the blade down, severing the arm from the shoulder. The screams died out. Helen picked up the arm, squeezing the biceps. "Dinner," she said, handing it to Mena. The girl's face was filled with deep awe and dawning mischief.

After it had devoured the rest of the man, the creature left again to hunt, leaving the women to explore the schoolhouse. They found a stairway leading to the main floor, and wandered around, poking into closets and scrawling irreverent slogans on the blackboards. There were only six classrooms, and each had a large potbelly stove. Helen gathered dry wood from the overgrown vicinity and started a fire in one of them, hoping there wasn't a nest clogging the stovepipe. She would eat her meat raw occasionally, but still preferred a nicely grilled steak.

In the late evening the monster returned, grinning from ear to ear, and began unloading its haul. Most were dead, some were half-eaten, but one man was just knocked unconscious. He wore the cheap suit of a traveling salesman. The creature began its feast, sitting on the floor and just tearing each body apart piece by piece. No one noticed when the man awoke.

He looked around in growing horror at the gory nightmare around him. Dismembered corpses, pools of fresh blood, bodies posed on the walls and ceiling, an antique record player warbling cheery music, and a monster, a real fucking live monster gnawing blissfully on a blood-streaked femur. The man crawled to his hands and knees, breath hitching as his brain demanded, "RUN! GET AWAY!" His scream finally broke free as the monster crunched through the knee of the leg in its grasp. He scrambled up and began running wildly.

In his blind panic he couldn't find the exit, but kept running face-first into the petrified bodies on the walls. His shrieks increased in pitch as he floundered around the room. He was brought to a sudden halt when a teenage girl stepped directly in front of him. Her face was calm; this drove the last shred of reason from him. Then she smiled sweetly, and thrust a long knife into his chest. His mouth dropped open; she sneered and jerked the knife up, piercing his heart. Blood poured over her knife and hand for a moment, then the man sank to his knees and toppled dead to the ground.

Mena stood breathing heavily, a hard light in her eyes. She raised the bloodstained knife to her face, ran it slowly along her tongue. She blanked out momentarily, recovered awareness to find the monster standing right in front of her. It was in her face, smelling her; it bent to sniff her throat, flicking its tongue out to taste. Her knees almost buckled, and it grabbed her shoulders to keep her upright. She trembled with excitement, this creature was all masculine strength, and was now stiffening against her belly.

Suddenly cold awareness poured over her. The monster... wants to... oh my god what do I do? She was both extrememly turned on and completely intimidated by it, and she cast a worried look over at her aunt. The woman was smiling as she walked over, there was even a laugh in her eyes. She didn't look angry or jealous at all, but just gently guided the creature's attention onto herself.

"Not yet. She's not ready for you," she said to it, indicating Mena with her eyes. Like hell I'm not, thought the girl, but she was relieved all the same. Helen turned to her niece. "Mena, why don't you go upstairs and grill us another couple of steaks..." The flustered girl scowled slightly, but knew it was probably the best idea. She glanced back as she walked towards the stairway, saw the grey monster smiling horribly; with an excited growl, it pounced on Aunt Hel.

The creature pressed itself against the woman's body, huge clawed hands exploring, kneading. She was hurrying to unfasten her pants, finally shuffled out of them; the creature's impatient caresses had already begun tearing holes in her shirt. She started trying to pull it over her head, but when it ripped open more and got stuck she became frustrated. "Oh, fuck it." The monster chuckled lecherously and tore the shirt in two. "You'd like it if I just never wore clothes, wouldn't you?" Helen said with a smirk. The monster narrowed its eyes and smiled, answered by grabbing her ass and lifting her up, grinding her against its groin. She inhaled sharply, threw her legs around its body, and gave a small cry as it penetrated her.

She had waited so long to once again ride that powerful monster's body. It supported her weight as it mashed its hips into her, staggered growling to the wall. Helen was slammed against the bodies posed there; she threw her head back, writhing, and flung her arms out to grab blindly for handholds as the creature ground her against the wall. One roving hand found a hold in the loose stitches of an arm, the other in a wide open mouth.

The huge muscles worked in the creature's back, its tight asscheeks clenching with each measured thrust. She could tell that the monster was fucking with a deliberate intent; as this thought pulled a hot cord through her loins, she moaned, her panting became rapid. Two piercing cries rang through the basement; Aunt Hel wailed out like an angry wildcat as she tensed and tore the stitches in her grasp loose; at the same moment a strangled howl burst from the monster. It threw its head forward, was actually biting one of the bodies behind her as it continued to plunge into her body. With a few final thrusts it groaned and shook from wingtip to toe.

There was no sound but breathing for a few minutes, then the grey beast spat out a crusty chunk with a slightly disgusted look on its face, and lowered the woman to sit on the floor. Helen looked at the arm she'd accidentally torn off, sheepishly turned back to the creature. "Ooops." They sprawled face to face, heads nearly touching; the monster breathed in deeply, as though it had found the perfect scent and was relishing it. It was an oddly tender moment, and Helen knew that the monster had missed her, too.

Helen smiled as the odor of cooking meat began to drift into the room, inhaled deeply. "Ahhh, now that's what smells good to me." The creature rolled its eyes and made an exasperated face, but helped her up, and she began gathering the remains of her clothes.

She pulled her pants back on and was rummaging in her carpetbag for a shirt. She'd brought a small sewing kit this time, but decided to repair her torn shirt after supper. Helen climbed the stairway, leaving her creature to flay the body Mena had left in a pool of blood.

"Ok, Mena. That just smells too good." The girl was standing with one hand on her hip, the other holding her arkansas toothpick threateningly, as if the sizzling meat might jump off the top of the woodstove and attack. She turned and grinned. "I noticed some wild garlic growing outside, and smashed a little on these. It might be a bit strong, but hey..." She prodded the meat, lifted up an edge to see how it was browning.

Helen put her arm around the girl. "You're a chip off the old block."

End of Chapter 4

Music for Chapter 4: 'Seems Like Old Times by Guy Lombardo, 'School's Out for Summer' by Alice Cooper, 'Fugata' by Yo-Yo Ma


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


redplanet@trinidadusa.net



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