I exhaled deeply and plopped down on my ass. A mistake. The air was cool, but it had nothing on the stone. Too late now. Didn't have anywhere else to go anyway, and there was this mini-altar here. Held my fingers by the two candle sleeves and lit up my own sticks as well. The gentle breeze kept threatening to blow them out and it took good chunk of my time to position them just right.
Crossed my legs and started weaving flowers together. Didn't want to go to Almoner's today. Paranoia told me I would be expected by the mob. Probably not and I could sneak away even if so, but just didn't feel like encountering a problem. Hoped the kid got away scot-free, but if he hadn't it was either too late now or I would be powerless to help anyway. Either way, I didn't want to know. The less I was aware of the less I needed to deal with.
I told myself they all just forgot my aggravating shenanigans and went to sleep. It was early, even if already dark, but still. Probably enough time to cool their heads. Sleeping outside in the cold just wasn't all that terribly unusual to me. And if the monster decided to wander off and never come back I'd know first-hand. By the time I finished ruining the beautiful tulips most of my worries were either sorted or half-forgotten.
I was entirely too much at peace for almost whole minute when universe decided to right itself.
"What a beautiful smile you got there," match struck behind me as someone came out for a smoke. I heard the voice somewhere very recently.
"Did you come to worship at the altar, too? Come, sit. Give me your bountiful offerings to twine into a works of art," I showed off my garland and snuck a peak. He shaved, and perhaps even washed, but it was undoubtedly the bore from earlier in the day. Props for that. Nobody could fault a man trying to better himself.
"Ye, I'll give you something to worship," he grabbed my slightly overgrown hair and stood over me, savouring the power. I grinned wider. Even when I was doing my utmost to avoid problems, they'd still find me. This had to be some kind of superpower.
I kept smiling like a fool and caressed the calves. He accepted the gesture eagerly and the grip on my hair eased. This could end quickly with a simple blowjob but I was in foul mood. Stealthily I reached for candles behind him. The idiot didn't notice or suspect a thing over his massive ego and a fucking tiny dick. The loose sweatpants caught fire and silently crept upwards. It didn't burn quite as well as I hoped, nothing like the flames of the mansion. The cloth mostly just melted. I sighed resignedly. Whatever, it wasn't like I was trying to torch the man.
The guy eventually figured out back of his legs were smoking and started trying to shake me off. I kept the candles in my hands, cackling in response to the blows to the head. It truly was all too funny for some cursed reason. My lean, aerodynamic physique was no match for the brute strength and he kicked me off far too soon. I'd done no damage and now I'll lose my teeth. Again. Typical. There were one or two curious people who popped up but nobody was going to risk their hide for an egregious outsider.
His pants were ruined and still scalding so my unwanted suitor ripped them off, going straight towards me – but perhaps with different intentions now, if the flappy wiener was of any indication. I was both – still giggling and too disoriented to make it on my feet in time and bail. He grabbed me by the neck and I could not laugh anymore.
"You fucking slut," he cursed. "You tempt me and then do this?! Stop fucking laughing!"
Apologies never worked anyway. I mean, they softened the blow, but at a certain point in the rain you just didn't get any more drenched. And I felt like I was about to overflow all the damn time. I guess this was it.
He shook me, and shook some more but then it stopped mid-motion and his hands let go. I cracked my head on the rocks. It hurt, but I kept my whining in in the presence of that other, visceral agony. Animalistic screech that reached somewhere beyond comprehensive thoughts and communicated to the animal inside. One that made blood run cold and not dare look. The howls of the damned in the deepest pit of hell. The shrieks of people caught out outside the walls in the night. The terrible pitch that sang of purest pain. Sounds which never dulled no matter how many times I've heard them.
There were some panicked shouts around. The locals were running in to defend but they all stopped and stood still somewhere just outside a perceived barrier – in the grass, bushes, other side of the street.
The man's screaming was peeling his throat raw. He was hugging, then clawing at himself. Something like a bulbous worm ripped through the clothes and buried itself back in the flesh. Were those his organs? The man kept on bawling, twisting, trying to catch the monster surfing round and round through the meat like water.
More people came out and shouted something too. I wasn't overly concerned. Sure, the sight was absolutely alarming and probably dangerous, but I was somewhat concussed and mostly worried about the other, bigger monstrous presence looming over me. And I wanted to touch him so bad.
My monster completely ignored fussy surroundings as though he wasn't a part of the chaotic scene and definitely not the cause of it either. He was so close. Tentatively I reached out and my fingertips brushed that ridiculous claw sticking out of the boot. I sighed in relief and closed my eyes. There was not a trace of previously experienced pleasure. Not even a shiver. But it soothed the craving to run my palms down his skin. Now if only I could stop myself from grabbing the oversized nail with all my might next, that would be nice.
I did feel something, I realised. The fog lifted and throbbing in the skull eased. He noticed, then. I removed my fingers immediately and pretended it didn't happen.
"Can you do your thing little less loudly?" I rubbed my temple with one hand and waved in the vague direction of the screaming spectacle with the other. Man's raspy screech cut off almost immediately. He still gurgled and wheezed, worm squelched and sloshed, but I was able to think. I exhaled and discarded any unnecessary ponderings.
"Did you have fun?" I asked with a smile, pretending to be somewhere else entirely and talking to normal people.
"No. Their effort was pathetic. Some just ran. Mouth is dealing with those," the growl sounded terribly inconvenienced. I resisted cringing or rolling my eyes.
"Well that's what you get for playing with your food!" I chastised monster from my dignified crumple on the ground, still in the presence of inexplicable pain. Somehow I wasn't all that daunted. More surprised. This was in direct assistance to me, right?
"But that makes it so much more worthwhile," deeper growling made goose bumps rise and I finally managed to remember that that's all I was to this exotic animal, too. Entertainment. Food.
The monster bent down – actually, like a human – and his hand landed on my sore face. I tensed up, but not exactly out of fear. The move itself was confusing as fuck. He never moved if he didn't need to - unless it was for show. Sure, I felt my injuries mending, but he could have whipped out a tendril, touched with the foot or just waited for me to get up.
I looked away from the darkness of the hood. I don't know why I kept affixing my gaze onto it, not like there were eyes to meet mine or even a face. Well fine, maybe some face? I had no idea, but for sure none of it was functional anyway. Should I be looking at his chest instead, where he kept the voice?
In actuality I should not be sitting right under this oppressive presence.
"Oh, a cigarette!" I was thrilled to find the still smudging stick on the ground and reached out, scuttling away. Put it in my mouth. Disappointingly, half of it gave out. The candles were all kicked away and trampled. What a waste. "I don't suppose you got fire?" I asked the demon half-heartedly.
The creature crouched down on his haunches. The human hand went up again and each finger lit up in different coloured flames. There was neon green, aggressive pink, wispy blue, dim purple and even dimmer violet. "Ooh, pretty! Impressive, meat monster."
None of the digits were getting damaged.
"You find this impressive?" The scoff in the gruffness was obvious. Priest was right. The monster must have wanted to show off with the juggling of organs on the live specimen or the slaughter of fully equipped contingent earlier. But I, after all, already seen people sliced up open and unable to die. I held back the eye roll and scrunched up my lips in a thoughtful manner instead.
"Hmm. A little disappointing. Why are there two purples?" The lights flickered and all of them shuffled into different shades. "No, no, now most of them are yellow. That's boring as fuck."
Instead of slapping me or putting them all out in annoyance, the monster ticked quietly as if pondering. It went back to how it was before. "Which ones are purple?" the blind bastard asked.
I shuffled closer, leaned in to light my tired cigarette and inhaled extra deep. The haze was fantabulastic. The gurgling man smoked some potent shit. I rubbed my chin thoughtfully and pressed two fingers to monster's knuckles. These definitely had to be someone's real arms. There were scars on the skin and bones underneath were abused. Not unlike Ruby's. Hands of someone who talked with their punches.
The shades flickered and I shook my head, "No, now it's green like here." After couple more failures I couldn't hold back the spice in my tone, "Oh, if only somebody had eyes."
"I do have eyes and the colours you describe are already different. I do not understand."
I snorted. Purposefully confusing the blind man would have been fun, why didn't I think of it?
"You've eyes?! Lemme see!" I reached for his hood but was caught by enflamed appendage. Unlike his, my skin sizzled. I didn't immediately feel it, but when the pain hit me the night turned bright.
A warning? Or was this almighty being sadistically inclined? Chances were it was so, as with most self-important assholes. I wouldn't mind putting up a show to display my misery if it pleased my newest master so. Or would he be the type to get inappropriately enraged over display of weakness? Did he even understand that humans felt intense feedback from injuries? The disfigured man flailed around wildly. Would the monster helpfully just burn me to crisp? So many questions, so few answers.
Instead of screaming like my damaged forearm required, I sucked on the cig and huffed in monster's face. Forced those thoughts down. None of that mattered.
"I was literally all the way inside your maw and you're shy about a face?" I asked in my firmest, non-trembling voice which I loaded with scepticism. Easy, because after all any sort of timidity I might have had was lost to the tides of time. Modesty was something I was unable to understand.
Flames extinguished and skin mended. Mastery of all things meat was very impressive, but I wasn't going to tell him that. In the absence of pain, my muscles relaxed. I hadn't even realised I'd become so tense. Should have just screamed, I was fooling nobody.
"I don't have a face," monster growled sharply.
"Then what are you being so bashful for?" I was hoping to push some buttons, but this started to feel like an argument with the kids. Am not! Do too! I waited for the defensiveness.
"For you to realise I'm entirely inhuman."
What does that have to do with anything? Clearly, the thing with looming crown of horns stood no chance of being mistaken for a real boy. "You need to pop out those eyes of yours more often. Perhaps walk by a mirror or two," I suggested.
"You think you comprehend it, but you do not," sharp rasp informed me.
"But... what about... Then... You really think?" I was at a loss for words. This rarely happened. The audacity of this creature! I breathed and smoked and then shouted, "There's no way I ever thought of you as human! You literally just unzipped your stomach that time. You're fucking growling."
Monster shrugged with one shoulder as though to say he wasn't the one making the rules. It was time to employ second stage of arguing with a prepubescent. Brute force. Fine, so perhaps I was the childish one – but that still counted.
I launched my other hand towards the skin masquerading as fabric. Unsurprisingly, he caught that too. I just needed to pull on it a little. It was an iron grip, could not budge it forward in the slightest. Squirmed with effort some more. Nothing. Launched my teeth forward and a new, skinless hand split off from one of his and grabbed me by the throat.
I choked and coughed out, "See, you do shit like this and keep expecting to be seen human?"
"No," monster said as though I was not getting it. I wasn't. I strained my neck towards the cigarette stump. It still had some life left in it. Success. I would have launched the ember into the mysterious darkness, but unlike me the creature felt no pain so it was a waste of good cig. I exhaled smoke into it instead.
"Do you have a nose?" I inquired.
"My skin," monster replied pithily.
"So no nose-nose. But you've eyes now? In there," I pointed at the hood.
"Not anymore," he said gruffly and I sighed. He was so infuriating.
Chewed on my lip and gave it a big think. In the trek he had said that the incomprehensible instilled terror in us mortals. Was he apprehensive of innate human reaction? The creature took form of a human. He even made lips up for me to kiss yesterday. This boneheaded oaf cared.
And I kept looking, expecting to see something under the hood. Meanwhile there was... nothing? Was that startling, under normal conditions? Probably.
But if he was so considerate, why was there a grotesque lump of meat crawling around? I narrowed my eyes. Nope, I had no clue. Different approach. Maybe some other, limited exposure would work instead?
"Can I touch your face?"
Tick tick tick. "There is no face," monster replied eventually but relaxed grip on one of my hands.
That wasn't a no. Progress!
I could still try and yank the hood off, but lighting was abysmal anyhow. Just before touching what was under the heavy hood, I stopped. Is this a trap? My skin still remembered sharp needles trailing down to fingertips. Was he going to bite it off? I decided on a no. Had he planned on doing that, it would already have happened. Instead, he caught me. Though burns hurt too. Oh well, he'd probably regrow it anyway and I'd receive a nugget of insight on my jailer.
Hand went deep under the fake fabric. When my fingertips touched the skin under the skin, a very inappropriate shiver of anticipation ran down my spine. I forced away the memory of pleasure. It was unwanted, unnecessary and untimely. It was still hard to concentrate. I grit my teeth and gave in, sinking my whole palm down onto it.
There were no features. No mouth, no nose. No head at all. Horns sprouted up from the body masquerading as the neck, made a turn at very top and sprang out somewhere at eye level. My fingers gently traced the knobby rows of thick bony trunk, thumb brushing the same leathery texture of as his outer skin. There was no head. It was indeed peculiar to find complete absence of an essential organ.
"What bit me that time?" I wondered, finding no sign of a cakehole.
"I change upon circumstance," he said and it was very strange to get a final nail in the fact that he did not speak with a mouth.
"Is that something else you wish to hide?" I asked cheekily, ever the predator of insecurities. Gripping monster's lack of head caused another quiver run down my neck. I suffered an urge to pull him in for kiss, but it was impossible.
From so close I heard something wet peel off and pinpricks touch upon my skin. The sensation was revolting. I tentatively maneuvered a thumb to probe a tooth. Found a fleshy edge – a mockery of actual lips. Unrestricted finger hovered over and was unable to explore any further. The ancient horror was correct, something felt intrinsically wrong about this. Perhaps I did imagine the monster more like us than I had the right to.
I let go and tensed to move away. His teeth and three hands released me in tandem. Not unsettling at all. I took a step back and chilly wind suddenly made me miss them. Monster was always so warm.
"Thank you," I said almost without stammering and had nothing to add in the awkward silence. This time it was truly uncomfortable. My gut twisted with all sorts of conflicting emotions.
"You dislike yellow?"
I quirked an eyebrow. Smalltalk from a demon? Sure, why the hell not. "Nah, it's just... ordinary, I guess. That's the colour of fire over here. Well, mostly... the animals from your hellhole burn in different hues." I looked at one such torch in the distance. It was a little green. Glanced back at the monster beside me. I would ask what colour fire is in their world, but alas – demon had no eyes. Work, stupid brain. What kind of place was it anyway?
"Do you even have fire over there?" I finally forced out. Stupid. Why wouldn't they have it?
"Under certain conditions, yes, but it's an ocean."
"Oh," I said, mentally patting myself on the back for being an actual genius. "Oh," I reiterated with far less enthusiasm. His real appearance must be completely different over there. How fundamentally different their existence must be. Was he even a vertebrate? Does that matter for shapeshifters?
"You people are majorly missing out on late night barbeque parties," I concluded.
"That's disgusting," monster hissed out and it sounded eerily genuine.
"What is?" I found myself confused.
The demon has lost a few growly ticks either in an irritation or bewilderment. "All of it. The smoke. Ruined tissue. And if I want to suffer diminished capacity I can just slice parts of my brain off."
Did somebody piss in his plate in one of those? "Picky eater much?" I huffed at the negative, grisly Nancy. I knew human things would be of no real interest to the alien creature, but it was polite to at least pretend.
"Very," he confirmed and my gut churned nastily at the reminder. This asshole preferred the partygoers to the grilled treats. And I was it. I should do a better job dancing around dangerous topics. Did not need a constant reminder of things to come.
Backtracked. "Not a place humans can go, then?"
"Not for the lack of trying," monster grated out as though he had to sweep a pile of corpses off his welcome matt every morning. "Do you want to?" he asked unexpectedly.
I swayed on my heels back and forth. Couldn't even begin to process what he might have meant by that. As his future dinner, that was my final destination anyhow. Before braving alien worlds in form of mince or otherwise, I had other places to be. Raked my overgrown mane, rubbed at the eyes and decided to risk bringing it up. Bargaining hadn't worked with this creature yet, so I just went for it. "I have... somewhere to be. To talk to somebody. After that I'll do whatever you want."
Silence hung and I had an urge to ask whether he'll eat my friends on sight even knowing how easy it was to lie. I had no intention of believing promises anyway. Kept my trap shut. Perhaps I spoke out too hastily at all? Fuck, maybe I should have just asked Priest to relay to them that I'm fine. That alone might not convince Ruby but perhaps at least dull the urgency and let him heal.
"Your... mouth is taking me there, so it's all safe and dandy and under supervision... I'll even be back here as soon as I possible," I lied, but he didn't need to know that. I was genuinely desperate to be fully believable anyway. "It'll be of no inconvenience to you."
Suddenly and for no rationale this felt like a big ask. Should I grovel? The body part man did that for some reason. Horned deity did look imposing and the wheezing art installation made me very conscious of that fact.
Do I use my feminine viles for persuasion? Demon had no sex drive to be manipulated over. Fuck. Should I promise to clean up the garage or something? I heard the kids who were actually housed beg so of their keepers. Witnessing that I was always glad to be unattached. Free. Few people who might have cared where I end up were always with me anyhow.
Feelings of suffocation swirled inside of me again. I hated the leash over my neck. But one way or the other I always ended up in these situations. Such was fate of the weak.
Before I could resort to some drastic idea, monster decreed, "We'll go."
We? Will go?
"You... will fit in a car?" I turned my head to re-evaluate the ostentatious coiling adornment. Right, I forgot again – he could probably contort in some way.
"No," monster growled and it sounded like nails on rusty metal sheet.
The bikers had to have some of their old life stashed away in some shed still. "Motorcycle?" I asked even more tentatively.
"No." Voice sounded far less harsh this time.
The smell and probably the noise. Right right. "Are we gonna... pedal there on bicycles?" A sight to see.
"No," was all the monster had said in reply again and it felt like he looked forward to more of the stupid suggestions.
"You just don't know how to," I accused knowing full well it probably wasn't it. I mean, the monster in all likelihood did not circle around his neighbourhood on a small wheeled contraption as a child, but there were other things to consider. Like his public image. He didn't reply. I probably should have phrased it as a question. "Do you?"
"I do," he let out a short hiss.
"You do?" I gaped. "That's... It's harder than it looks," I said because I've tried and I was yet to succeed myself. So if the mode of transportation was it, I'd be screwed. Luckily at this point it was just morbid curiosity.
"I've consumed multitudes with the ability," monster stated as though that's how it worked. It didn't... did it?
Crossed my arms. "That's not how it works. I've eaten a lot of pigeons but I'm yet to fly."
"You've no wings."
I scoffed - as though that was the main problem here. Perhaps it was. But I felt like I'd be pointlessly flapping around on the ground even with them.
Demon's head tilted and he relented, "The way you and I eat are fundamentally different." So what, did he just needle me back? For fun? How mysterious.
I sighed heavily and had to agree. He was an alien organism with far superior control over his – and others' – bodies. "You extract memories... or something?"
"Something," demon had not elaborated. Very convincing.
"Aha. We'll shop around for a tricycle for you when we're back in city, then."
"You mean, for you?" Before I could get any brattier, monster went on gratingly, "Because you don't know how to ride the big boy rides."
Any scraps of my good humours evaporated and I felt the full force of night's chill. Those were exact words the kids with parents had said to me years and years ago. I could bet both of my arms it was not a coincidence.
The faceless emptiness bore straight into me. I knew because the hoodie was askew and perhaps that was the point. Minute detail to be noticed if I cared to. Well, I did. My stomach roiled and I wanted to be violently sick. Preferably all over his beloved shoes.
Should have gone down grovelling route. I felt like each time I tried to poke at the demon, he came out on top. This was way out of my league. He was not my pal. Not an overconfident client. This was a god damn unknown life form from another world. Unlike with the spoiled snoots from the nicer streets, I would not be able to solve this situation by going over the bike in question with a crowbar. Torching things wouldn't help here either.
I did not delve into further implications of whatever display of power have just happened there, but this had to have been what dead-eyed warlord meant. It was far too late for me to escape. Perhaps I should just cease testing the boundaries. I had general idea of permissible things. It would be enough.
Without saying anything else, I just stepped backwards and left. What was there to say in face of total defeat? It was probably time to try Priest's suggested tactic and just become plain obedient slave. Maybe he'd get bored of me.
Quietly I seethed. Fuck them demons. Mean asshole, casually flexing mindreading. This is why nobody wanted to speak to him.
Just off the beaten path a stocky pale silhouette stepped forward as though to meet me. It would have been unsettling, but I saw paleness extend to the haircut too and smiled. Almoner's eyes were wide with worry or fear. Or both. I grabbed his palm and tugged tense man after me towards his cosy sunken house.
"Are you... okay?" he stammered out right after the door closed. If only he knew how little privacy that has given him. Or me. I will never again have a peaceful shit all to myself, will I? I probably wasn't alone in my head anymore either. Fucking outstanding.
"Of course," I smiled warmly in response to his abject terror. It's like the kid has never seen intestines hanging off a living thing. How embarrassing for him.
"What has happened there?" he whispered and pointed at the door. Could tell he was more than just a little unsettled. Perhaps questioning the entire joining of the demonic cult thing. Comparing pros and cons of living in the countryside with the horrors.
I shrugged as casually as I could, "The guy trampled monster's little shrine. He must have gotten upset." From the boy's expression it was wrong thing to say. I was way off my game today. I palmed his bruised cheek with icy hand. The problems I caused don't go away simply because I'm not there anymore. "Did you perhaps want the military to come in?"
"You think they should... have... had..." Almoner's speech turned to weak whisper as he recalled quieting clatter of gunfire just a while ago. Yes, it was far too late for that whether they've had good or bad intentions.
I shrugged not knowing and not caring. "You're asking the wrong guy. I'm an amalgamation of questionable choices."
"But..." he expressed a vehement emotion with no follow-up.
I kicked the shoes off and began undressing. Glanced over my shoulder. He watched, but the boy was far too worked up over the wrath of demons for sex. Another sleepless night chuck full of incessant thoughts awaits, but I was determined to spend it in a comfortable bedding anyway. I had serious misgivings about camping in near future.
"There's never a right choice," I said, falling face first into the pillow and digging myself in. "You're not the one who makes them, anyway - the ones with power do. So don't worry about it," I grinned back into the room and watched him watch me with bewildered eyes.