Majesty – Hecatomb

 

 His eyes widen, too far, too wide as they watch my hand rise level with my shoulder. “Because I can,” I reply as the top of his head explodes

 
Her face is coated with thick red goop speckled hither and yon with bits of white and a mealy fragile tissue. It’s amusing to me how she struggles to give breath to the scream locked in her chest, and how instead just stands with her hands in fists and the cords standing out in her throat.
 ⋅
“Well fuck.”  Fallen’s voice has a rough, unused quality that I find intriguingly human. I didn’t have time, however,  to probe into this new development.  There was no time for disposal. It would wait.  The woman staggers forward, tripping over her lover’s corpse, and landing with her hands in the pool of blood that gathered there. Now she screeches, fingers clawed and digging into her cheeks. She’s come undone, I sing under my breath, her deranged incantations ceasing as she stares at her hands, now covered in his blood, her knees shredded from rubbing on the old wood floors, adding hers to his.
 ⋅
“You are batshit crazy,” she says to me, still staring at her palms as she rises to her feet, “How the fuck did you slip through the cracks?”  I thumb back the hammer on my weapon, watching her stumble around, and stop dead in front of me. “I’ll kill you, cunt.”  She launches herself at me, fingers hooked and teeth bared, and I am shoved aside by some…well I didn’t know what the hell he was. Or cared. What I gave an unholy fuck about was that he had my livestock by the neck, and was battening on her even as I fired a bullet into his back.

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“Mine.  Go get your own.”  He snaps her neck in a smooth motion, and threw the body to the floor advancing on me.  A vampire.   “Ahem, gentlemen? Now is a good time to intervene?”  I received a far too amused chuckle from Fallen, and a inelegantly worded refusal.  I would see him suffer before the week’s end. Mr. I-am-Death-Obey-Me Reaper is no help. Apparently I am on my own.
 ⋅
**”Majesty?  I don’t suggest you bait this one. You are still human after all.”**
 ⋅
I round on Casper, shoving the nose of my pistol in his eye. “Kindly keep your comments to yourself Casper. I would prefer to let Grim handle your torture but I’m not above causing your immense pain myself.  I am all too aware of my biological limitations.  And you, Vampire.  I find your proximity unnerving.  Please, back the fuck off.”
 ⋅
This I  throw over my shoulder, before turning and brushing past him to harvest what I required. Simple extractions but extremely bloody, my hands were slick from the sheer amount of coppery claret, behind me the Darkness paced.  Good. I could torture him too.  I made quick work of the delicate cuts.  My time as a butcher did wonders for my surgical skills.  Twenty  minutes later, the harvest was complete and I could be rid of my audience while I cleaned up. I would catch fire and burn alive if I was caught, tracking I believed the word was, my hobbies into my home.  I packaged up the slices of meat as I had the other, that was still held tightly in Fallen’s grip. “Be gentle with the cooler. Please leave while I clean up.”
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They appeared grateful to go, asking a couple pointless questions about my ETA at the house, to which I have a vague answer, disinterested in anything else than that extra hot water and some me time. I suppose I should feel a little bad,  as I was surely to be admonished about it later.  There was not one member of this family could be so bold as to tout having a conscious themselves, and yet I should have one.  Outside the thunder crashes like cymbals in some colossal symphony, and the hair on my neck stands on end, my skin rippling as lightning strikes somewhere deep in the trees.  The small room is daylight and I see nothing but shadows for a heartbeat, two, there.  Brother Grim drifts outside the window, dragging his scythe across the glass in a spine wrenching squeal that drags me from whatever that was that I was lost in. That bastard. My Sister in Devotion, if she isn’t too busy being angry at me, would set his bony ass straight.
 ⋅
Still, very deep down. inside, I was glad for his interference. The room is filled with steam and the curling smoke from the slowly burning joint I’d lit to wind down. The dull ache in my arms and shoulders easing as I tamped it out and stepped into the stream of water, exhaling as the unending rush of molten hot needles pound my sore muscles into submission.  Around my feet the tub was stained pink from the soul cleansings I’d taken here.
 ⋅
I let the heat take me away, into my own world and my favourite fantasy, There I could release myself, my mind made it so real that I could feel my minds objet d’affection against me, inside me, hands, lips, teeth and I finally achieved release, my hand reaching back to shut off the shower.
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I stood a moment, staring at the fogged over walls of the glass shower, annoyed and aroused. Swine had been here, watching me. The cleared space at eye level with a single handprint suggested that they had enjoyed the show.  I had no time left to dawdle, outside the wolves are snuffling and howling, smelling the promise of meat.  I would need to distract them, and quickly dressed, sliding my clothes over my bare flesh, and grabbing a couple of appendages on my way out the door.
 ⋅
Grim lingers, close by and slightly ahead.  An odd configuration.  Suddenly, it strikes me that perhaps I should be watching my back, since Grim obviously had my front.  He habitually followed, when we had occasion to compare notes without hoards of family about. He says he likes to watch the attempts, that it amuses him. I wonder if she knows her betrothed is a voyeur too.
 ⋅
The beasts slink in the shadows, creeping stealthily towards the smell of still weeping flesh that dangles from my hand.  A swarm of glowing spots stare and I respond in kind. Grim nervously points to the house, another odd occurrence.  Intuition tells me to call halt to the festivities, and run. But I’m hungry, and I hate to eat alone. Hungry for more than food for my body;  I was starving for faces and conversation, denied me by Reaper and assumably his Overseer.
 ⋅
A canine of implausible size, it’s snout covered in gore, and bits of fur appears from the dark.  This beast had eaten at least one my new pets, though I could hear the others shuffling and whining in the trees.  He was a beautiful monster, sleek and heathy, although rarely did he dine on actual flesh. “Hello Lucien.  I assume your mistress is lurking about?” I toss the two arms into the brush, the diamond on her finger sparking like a firefly in the dark. “C’mon boy. Let’s go start dinner.”
 the_twisted_path_group_majesty
Ahead I see my kitchen lit up, and am witness to what is evidently an argument. Dee is pointing to the sink, shaking her head in refusal or denial, while the rest just watch in curiosity. She drops her arms and shrugs, speaking once and sits at my small kitchen table. Lucien has slithered off to presumably run amok in building winds.  Towards the west, above the visible tree tops, the sky glows golden in the clouds, perhaps another sign or a blessing. Only time would tell. In the meantime I had a meal to end all to prepare and an intervention to avoid.
 ⋅
The words die as I enter my spacious kitchen, and I meet several pairs of eyes and a plethora of expressions.  “Talking about me I see. Let’s be clear. If you wish to stay for dinner, be helpful or get the fuck out of my house.  If you please.”   I do despise silence when I’m in need of answers, and was about to come unhinged when a quiet voice spoke from the corner. “Don’t be stupid. Where else would we go?  Now, if I may,” and with that control over more than meal preparation was wrenched from my grip.
 ⋅
 I glanced from my work only once, when my hand was nudged by a glass of my favourite wine, and sickened but standing eyes of both my sisters.  The rest had vacated into parts unknown, presumably with Babe’s enjoyment. I can hear her raucous laughter as someone or something fell to the floor, and a shout of pain.
 ⋅
**”Your sister is a sadist.”**
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I bare my teeth and take a long sip of the blood-red liquid. It tasted of blackberries and shadows, and sweetened the bitter gall that had filled my mouth.  “Casper. Naturally they left you here for me to babysit. I don’t have time for it so fuck off. And yes. I am aware. She does love that whip.”
 ⋅
The kitchen is filled with the combatting scents of roasted meat and spices, fresh bread and cigarette smoke. The latter made me cringe in desire. How I craved, and instead poured the remainder of the second bottle into my glass.
 ⋅
“Get out of here with that Fallen or share. The smell is killing me.” Grim is back too, his bony finger on my sisters chin; it’s a disturbing sight watching her skin shift where he touches her, and the sappy romantic displays that make me ill.  The oven sounds its sharp refrain and I pull open the heavy door to slide the pan with the savoury meat inside. The doorbell clangs and the wave of voices recedes, affirming me a few moments peace and solitude.
 ⋅
**”I’m hardly one to judge.  But isn’t the menu at least worth mentioning to them?  Sensibilities aside, it could be a health issue.”
 ⋅
Sighing, I hurl the carving knife in it’s direction, fed up and nearly vibrating with hunger. “Go. Away. Casper.  I have no energy for you right now.  Please.”  The lights flickered off and on, eerily illuminating my normally bright kitchen, filling it with harshness.
 ⋅
“Have some more wine.”
 the_twisted_path_group_majesty
“I hath imbibed the blood of the bottle and alas, there is no more. Shame really…it was very good”  Darkness lingers, a smirk on his face as he produces with a flourish another bottle. “I’d swear you are trying to get me drunk.” I throw at him, opening the fridge door to remove the prettily arranged foie gras.  I’d spent hours preparing the apricot-cognac flavoured mixture into perfect slices, garnished with greenery it pleased my eye and I had no need to fuck with it.
 ⋅
“Drink.”
 ⋅
The voices of my comrades crept closer as I set the plates on the table. He’s opened the bottle, my glass standing full and waiting.  “I have planned this to the last detail Vampire. Do not make me revoke my invitation. I’ve not forgotten you. The only thing I require of you is preference. Hot or cold?”  His eyes narrowed, drawing down onto a much more menacing expression, and I could see how others could be in fear, although I did not.
 ⋅
**”Majesty….”** Casper’s voice holds alarm, an urgency, and I startle, snarling at him to shut up, and never once shifting my gaze from his.  **”Have you looked outside?”**
 
“Both”⋅
 ⋅
I shake my head at the monster before me in frustration and want to cut his damned head but instead show him the shiny skull on my middle finger as I brush by.
 ⋅
“I win.”
 ⋅
Stepping closer, I tell him in a low tone, “I had already won. I was just playing.,” before addressing my assembled guests in a louder voice, “Please take your seats at the table. I’ll be right there,”

 

Trees on Fire
Trees on Fire
The large window faces west and the sky is alight, and we are long past sunset.  The storm has calmed some, though the wind still rattles the trees like maracas. “That lightning strike has  done me a favour.  Keep an eye on it, if you please. I’d rather our guests not die here.”
 ⋅
Turning back I see my gathered family eagerly chatting and most of them indulging themselves in the handmade hors d’oeuvre I’d made for their pleasure.  Fallen angels all, they hardly noticed my absence, and I was happy about that. All but one. From the warming oven I took the cast iron pot, and carefully carried it to the table. “A hearty stew to start my friends.  On a night like tonight, it’ll warm your bones.”   Removing the lid, the steam escaped in a vaporous scream, scented heavily in savoury spices that covered the gamey taste of free range livestock very well, and a special ingredient that made the preternatural types among us lean forward in interest. “Dee, serve out please? Everyone must try it.” She nodded, not happy with my demand.
Gwen joined me in the kitchen, her chatter a welcome distraction to my roaming thoughts. The Ossobuco came out tender and moist, the smaller piece I’d chosen pulling apart in my fingertips as I devoured it. “Jes, are you okay?”  Gwen’s hand on my arm stops me from stuffing the last bit of meat in my mouth, and I swallow mightily, “I am now.  It’s good.” We made fast work of preparing the plates, the main course arranged prettily with baby carrots and atop a small helping of capellini. Conversion stuttered and stalled as we served, most just sitting there staring at the plates. I played the nearly raw meat in front of the Darkness with pride, “Blue rare,” I smiled into his eyes before moving on.
⋅ 
My glass of wine still sits on the counter, still waiting, and I grab it on my way to my chair. The only sounds around me are the occasional clatter of forks and knives, at least one appreciative grunt and the wind running amok. The conversation starts once again as I finally sit to feed myself.
Life and Death  C & C Photography
Life and Death
C & C Photography
There are those that are lost, though that is not us tonight.  No, tonight we are family, fiends around the table, partaking in a forbidden feast. Not all know that what they ingest is their own kind – they remain innocent and so it shall be for a time.  Those whose awareness comes from experience or adventure eat with relish, not a one meeting my eyes as they do.
 ⋅
Reaper appears, his cloak dusty and reeking of ashes and burned forest, and Casper nods.
 ⋅
**”The forest is on fire.  It’s consumed the shed and is coming fast. Majesty we must go now.”**
 ⋅
Eight pair of eyes fasten on me before they scatter to the wind, leaving me with promises to speak soon.  The flames are coming fast, like little molten demons leaping tree to tree.  I’d packed my truck yesterday with all my trappings and treasures.  My cell rings, incoming text messages asking for my location.   I do not answer, instead choosing to sacrifice it to the licking flames that have begun to devour my home.
 ⋅
Behind me lies smoke and dreams, a charmed life for a while.  And while the road is long, eventually it will draw me back here, where I hoped to find my monsters waiting.
Majesty Photo_edited-1
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The Orphan Killer 2 Bound x Blood Created by Matt Farnsworth ©™ Full Fathom 5 Productions LLC
The Orphan Killer 2
Bound x Blood
Created by Matt Farnsworth
©™ Full Fathom 5 Productions LLC
“The characters Marcus Miller, and Babysister are owned by  Matt Farnsworth”
©™ Full Fathom 5 Productions LLC
Full Fathom 5 Productions LLC All Rights Reserved

 

 

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