01-25-2019, 12:41 AM
you've got to move slowly, take and eat my body like it's holy.
They’re even further from Loess now, she thinks as she glances over her shoulder in the direction of her home. Vulgaris will begin to wonder where she is and who she’s with. She’s his little prodigy, after all. She convinced Aziz to erect the dungeons for their prisoners and then he sent her out to find healers to lure back home with her. “Please help me, my sister is sick,” she’d say with those pitiful doe eyes staring up with all the hope and desperation she could gather. But Eight had other plans for her and she follows him as the needle follows thread.
She swallows hard and hurries forward to keep up with his strides when they finally cross the borders into Pangea. Neither of her parents would tell her of this place but she knows the smell of rot and death the moment it touches her tongue and nose. Sabbath coughs, unnerved by the little fish bones laid out beneath the sun beside the equine remains. A carrion feast for vultures and crows alike. The smell makes her eyes water a bit and she glances up at him uncertainly. But still, he moves further into the kingdom.
“Why are we here?” she asks with a quivering voice. His blood is still caked to her face but she makes no effort to wash it clean, especially not in these waters. She tucks herself against his side in some sad attempt to find comfort in his warmth. For the first time, she notices that he smells faintly like forest fires and salt, like danger and comfort all coiled into one another. Her tongue runs across her lips just to remember the taste of his blood in her mouth and its enough to send a shiver down her spine. The ravenous hunger to tear him open, to rend him down to bones and fill her belly with him rears its head once more.
She pulls herself from his side and pauses, taking a step back. Her bones hum their final warning and she stops long enough to listen this time.
“They’re going to come looking for me, Eight.”
And this time there’s a sliver of her spine coming through in her words as she refuses to carry on further. Perhaps she needs convincing, gentle coercion to lightly tug the noose like a leash further from home. Or maybe he could drag her kicking and screaming, force feed her the pomegranate seeds in their private section of hell.
She swallows hard and hurries forward to keep up with his strides when they finally cross the borders into Pangea. Neither of her parents would tell her of this place but she knows the smell of rot and death the moment it touches her tongue and nose. Sabbath coughs, unnerved by the little fish bones laid out beneath the sun beside the equine remains. A carrion feast for vultures and crows alike. The smell makes her eyes water a bit and she glances up at him uncertainly. But still, he moves further into the kingdom.
“Why are we here?” she asks with a quivering voice. His blood is still caked to her face but she makes no effort to wash it clean, especially not in these waters. She tucks herself against his side in some sad attempt to find comfort in his warmth. For the first time, she notices that he smells faintly like forest fires and salt, like danger and comfort all coiled into one another. Her tongue runs across her lips just to remember the taste of his blood in her mouth and its enough to send a shiver down her spine. The ravenous hunger to tear him open, to rend him down to bones and fill her belly with him rears its head once more.
She pulls herself from his side and pauses, taking a step back. Her bones hum their final warning and she stops long enough to listen this time.
“They’re going to come looking for me, Eight.”
And this time there’s a sliver of her spine coming through in her words as she refuses to carry on further. Perhaps she needs convincing, gentle coercion to lightly tug the noose like a leash further from home. Or maybe he could drag her kicking and screaming, force feed her the pomegranate seeds in their private section of hell.