Chapter 25

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Chapter 25

It circled the woman, who lay unmoving, her body blue-tinged and chilled to the point of near death. Blood still flowed, though, since she continued to breathe. Slow breaths, shallow and sporadic, but It well knew how deep the survival instinct ran in humans. It remembered what had driven It to fill the emptiness of the stomach, to deter the void that waited.

Remembered as though only last season....

The snow, like none other, blew down on them from the north. The unceasing snow and wind. Frigid cold. Days passing, hand-made shelters ineffective. A gap of a day or so, a break in the despair, then another violent storm. No supplies left, since the group, set on vengeance, traveled light in order to journey quickly and surprise the evil-doers. They could eat from the plentiful game along the way...so they thought.

Its responsibility in the existence before this one. It led them into that, against the cautions of the Elders.

After the one-after-another blizzards ended, no animals stirred, no source of food surfaced. Travel was impossible. Drifts higher than their heads piled the land. The surface would not hold. They floundered and dug through piles of snow in search of scarce wood for the tiny fire started by striking biwunug against ickodekan. At last they fed the flames miserly with their weapons, the mitigwab and asawans, the bindawun in which they carried the asawans.

More days passed. Another week.

One by one Its companions succumbed to akosiwin. No one versed in the ways of the muckiki traveled with them, and none of them knew the healing ways.

Finally, left alone, no choice remained. Survival instinct overcame moral teachings.

It remembered that first bite of food so many eons ago. Frozen, hard to hack with the knife. The relief and guilt when the meat melted in the mouth. Strength that eventually flowed back into muscles weakened to the point where the desire to survive was only a faint glimmer, yet a glimmer still.

It never uncovered the heads, the faces. Never dealt with the source of the food. No reason. It knew where each companion lay, where he had fallen.

Now It squatted beside her, the latest of a long line of prey taken during the many waking periods. Experiences from what had gone before foretold not only how and when the hunger would grow, but when the prey must be consumed. The first one was only sustenance for waking, sustenance for the powers to free themselves from dormancy. The next meal - the one that would truly put the powers back at full force - would be this one. The warm blood would finalize the return of both the reasoning power and the physical movements necessary for escape if pursuit ensued.

The initial burgeoning was always plenty for the beginning of the season. Yet after that crucial hunt during that first waking many years ago, It had learned how much more this body that now imprisoned Its spirit was capable of.

It reached out a claw and prodded the woman. After a moment, she moaned softly. She was beyond shivering. She had gone through fits of that for hours already.

It raked a claw down the front of her, slicing the rest of her clothing free, careful not to touch the skin...yet. Her eyes fluttered slightly, then opened sluggishly. She stared down at her exposed body and somehow dredged up the energy to gasp in horror, stiffen and try to lunge away.

It helped her. No need for the bindings any longer, not even on her mouth. She wouldn't live long enough for her screams to bother It, not that they ever did. In fact, the screams It allowed the prey gave more satisfaction than irritation. One more enemy spawn defeated, one more piece of revenge accomplished.

One swipe and her hands were free, the same with her feet. A claw jabbed beneath the twisted vine gag.

Her limbs were frozen to near immobility, but that deep-set survival instinct lent her strength. She screamed and scrambled awkwardly to her hands and knees. Didn't get far. Her head hit the cave wall and the impact stunned her. She shook her head, black hair swirling and blood streaming down her forehead. The coppery smell unseated the hunger, which rose on the beginning crest.

Negligently, It wrapped a paw beneath her stomach, pulled her away from the wall, then flung her back against the sharp stone. The force of the blow, not even one of Its most powerful ones, broke bones. They snapped clearly in the silent air, bringing more screams from her. She crumbled into a heap, but still she struggled to rise.

"Please," she begged. "Please! I'll do anything you want! My children...."

It whapped a paw against the side of her head. More blood spewed, and It sniffed deeply of the scent. Also caught the odor of the meat beneath the skin.

Hunger swelled higher.

Somehow she moved again, dragging along the ground like an injured snake, sharp rocks and gravel digging into her tender skin and opening more wounds. One arm flopped, a bone sticking out, white and streaked with blood. Its sharp vision took in the sight, nose drinking in the odors.

"Please," she whimpered. "Jimmy. Sasha. T-Tom. Help me, Tom."

It heaved a sigh of disgust. Caught her leg and threw her back against the wall. One swipe opened her throat, the other a path from throat to the juncture between her legs.

Even before It started feeding, the powers spoke.

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