So, I typed up the second part of the first chapter of that story I’m working on that I posted a little ways back. Nice and convoluted sentence there, no? Anyway, this is a bit longer so I’m gonna use spoiler tags on it. So, if you want to read more, click on the “Show” below.
One thing to note, one of the characters is name “Grim” but that is just a place holder. Sometimes I know what name I want, but can’t quite get it right. “Grim” is definitely the first part of his name, but I can’t settle on the rest of it. I’m pretty sure I came up with this name when reading Harry Potter. Grimmauld Place and all. Who knows?
I awoke to two figures standing over me. Two shadows in this dark and musty place, one quite shorter than the other. My heartbeat quickened, leaving behind that slow death march set by the thrumming of the water. I knew the time had come. Formalities awaited.
“I am glad to have found you,” rasped the taller shadow.
“Yes, Grim, I am too,” I replied.
A hand snaked out from beneath Grim’s cloak, obviously a gesture intended to aid me, but I simply ignored it. This was no time to display weakness and he should have known it. Masking the pain and stiffness, I stood up, towering above both shadows. I could still feel the cold coursing through my body, but my mind was infused with a fiery red heat. It was time to forsake this broken body.
“Who here,” I began, gesturing towards the smaller shadow, “is our friend?”
Before Grim could respond the smaller shadow stepped forward to stand directly in front of me, her back exposed to Grim. Not the smartest decision on her part. I grinned down at the hooded shadow. A voice, a female voice, but just barely, croaked at me. As she spoke from lips hidden behind the hood, spittle flew in my direction. “Aye! I be the one.”
Nonchalantly wiping my cheek with the back of my hand, I responded, “Now, now dear. We all know exactly who you are, but formalities must be addressed first.” I smiled my most tender and loving smile, a cross between the look of an innocent child and the hungry snarl of a lion whose prey has been cornered. “Please, pull back your hood and reveal thyself to me, my child.”
I could feel her cold eyes boring into mine, burning with loathing and hatred. Naturally, this wasn’t all directed towards me, it is simply what got her here. She slowly pulled back the hood and stepped closer, revealing a face which was surely once full of beauty and laughter. Now, however, it was a mask of pockmarks and scars. In the dim light the redness of each scar stood out, faintly glowing with every ounce of this woman’s hatred. I reached a hand out toward her, tracing the scars with my finger, though never quite touching her.
“Magnificent. Such . . . experience.”
She snorted and a sneer curled about the edges of her mouth. Locking her eyes with mine again, her hands began climbing down the front of her cloak, slowly unbuttoning every latch. With a sudden flourish, she flung aside her cloak to reveal a most unique body. Naked, I saw every inch of her. One side of her body was clean and very feminine. A milky white shoulder resided about a generously shaped breast followed by a narrow, hardened waist that bled into a magnificently shaped hip and buttocks.
The other side, however, was a ruin of flesh. Her shoulder was equally scarred as her face. A spectacular scar traversed her cheek down past her collar bone and over her shoulder to end somewhere down her back. A master had created that. Below her shoulder was a dark, sunken patch of flesh where a breast had been. Across her belly and side were horizontal lacerations that I assumed were made by some sort of whip. The most ruinous part, however, was in the midst of an otherwise flawless leg. A curious circle enveloped her upper thigh, screaming red, raised and ringing concentrically around her entire leg. I stared at this leg for a few moments and marveled at the mystery it presented. All the rest of her markings were common scarring from torture, but this ring was something I’d never seen. What could have caused this? My hand encircled the scar, tracing its existence.
“He cut my leg off,” she said. “Then he fused it back together. It works, but not very well.” The woman spat on the ground and muttered a curse under her breath.
“My dear lady,” I began, lowering my head in supplication, “if you will so give yourself, fully and freely, I would gladly take this pain away from you.”
She didn’t respond. She stood utterly still. I looked into her eyes, searching, but there was as much telling in her look as that of a statue.
“Grim, are you certain you explained everything to her? Is she aware of the cost?”
Grim grunted. “And she seems quite happy about it.”
A smile broke across my face. “Happy?” I said in wonder. “Not the most natural, nor the most normal reaction to this situation. Her lack of fear is astonishing.”
I studied this enigma of a woman, looking over her naked, crippled body wondering what lies inside. Moments passed as I waited for her response, knowing a battle raged somewhere inside her. Giving up one’s self is not always the easiest decision. As I waited, the cold began to seep back into my body. I knew it was time to begin. I could no longer wait for her to break the silence.
I nodded to Grim and said to the woman, “Do you commit yourself to the task that lies before you with full knowledge and acceptance of what is to come?”
“With every fiber of my being you filthy bastard,” she replied, once again spitting on the ground.
“I accept your gracious offer and give you my eternal thanks.”
She laughed a short burst, her voice cracking. “Aye, you’ll be thankful.”
With another nod towards Grim, who then moved into position behind the woman, I placed my hands on either side of her temples and looked into her grey eyes. This woman, this abused and battered woman, stared back with an icy calm. I closed my eyes and centered myself within my body. I consciously spread myself out to the furthest reaches of my limbs, feeling every sensation. From the beat of my heart to the cold seeping through my feet to the shattered bones of my torso, I felt it all. I enveloped myself in the sensations until they snapped into place forming a singular entirely lying at the center of a calm, endless nether-region. I stood there, I, this being, in a place all my own in which my purpose is all purpose. My body, my being was part of a singularity. That singularity was my purpose. And so, I struck out.
The first sensation I encountered was the warmth emanating from her presence and I was drawn to it. This finding was the easy part as we were bound to each other by the ritual. The difficult part is the transfer and final landing, in which one or both may become lost. I, however, felt no fear. I was well practiced.
As my being reached into hers, I found the multitude of pieces, the tiny threads that were “her” and gently separated them from her body. Images and emotions flickered amongst the edges of my awareness. Fragmented thoughts of her life, her love, and her pain. I paid them no heed. I dove deeper into her until I found the one thread, that which holds all parts together. Our love, our hatred, our apathy. Memories, dream and nightmare. Lives lived and long forgotten. Blood pumping through veins and arteries, lung inflated with air. Semen and menstruation alike. And, of course, the spirit beyond death. All attached to this one place, a single fiber, a mere filament that holds together our existence. Her . . . soul.
I enveloped this woman’s soul with my awareness as I did so with my own. Slowly, ever so slowly, I pulled pieces of ourselves out and moved them, smoothly sliding them into each other and then into the other body. Each piece I bundled and traded. A master playing the strings of life with all the power of a god. This was the transfer.
Within moments, I had moved the chess pieces into play. Now came the tricky part. I must play the game. I collected the last vestiges of ourselves, grasping them with invisible hands, feeling the vibrating life in them both; the coldness of my broken body and the heat of her hate. Closer I drew these last pieces together until they were but a hairs length apart. They felt each other. They knew each other, these primal forces, and they shuddered with a great energy, the energy of creation and the stars; the energy of all that is good and evil and all that lies between. And then, I fused them.
