Moon Children Ch. 07-08byPurpleThread©
After spending several hours sleeping in a bathtub, I should have been sore and stiff. Likewise should I be sore after such a ferocious session not unlike the one I endured the night previous... However, I felt quite refreshed. I felt... positively fantastic. I looked at the digital clock on the wall, and was delighted to find the sun was just about to set. We had spent the rest of the previous night and day in comfortable sleep.
Basil, back in human form, was curled around my thighs like a kitten embracing his favorite toy in blameless slumber. I stroked his messy hair, smiling peaceably. I felt him shivering, cold against the porcelain. I reached out for a hanging towel that was just outside my grasp...
and it swung toward my hand as if magnetized.
Grasping the towel, I sat there for a moment in incomprehension. No... no, that couldn't be. My imagination, only.
I draped the fluffy terrycloth about Basil's broad shoulders, and his sleeping lips spread in a dopey smile. He hugged my legs closer, nuzzling the cleft they created where they met my maidenhood. Blood had dried there, as well as like areas on himself. I considered a second bath for a moment, but decided that might lead to other things that would have to wait for the time being.
"Basil..." I said softly, stroking his cheek and attempting to wake him.
"Fress..." he murmured. I started a bit at this, having not told him my name. Had he really gotten inside my head? How much of it did he remember?
"Basil, time to wake up."
He breathed deep through flared nostrils, squeezing me again. He opened his eyes, and looked up and into mine.
"Fressia. That's your name, isn't it? Like the flower, but different."
"That's right, the flower is freesia. Fressia is my dialect's pronunciation of it."
"Fascinating." his kind tone betrayed the intended sarcasm, and he slid up my body to plant a kiss on my nose. Another on my cheek. Another on my lips.
I melted under him, kissing back. My legs spread for him of their own accord.
I had to fight to regain myself. "Basil, I have things I need to do..."
I giggled at the ridiculously poor joke. "No, please... stop." I pushed him away with difficulty.
"I have to... I have to do serious things. I need you to stay in the room. I should be done in a few hours."
"You have to bury them." He stated matter-of-factly, but not cold.
This killed whatever playfulness he had sparked a moment ago.
"Do you remember now?"
"No..." he hesitated, a sorrowful crease spreading between his eyebrows. "Not all of it... but... you know, enough."
He sat back, sighing. "You were right."
"No, you don't. It's... it's weird... I like it... shit, I love it... but I also hate it."
He looked up at me, tears standing in his eyes.
"What do I do? How do I keep from... from..."
The sides of his mouth turned downward at this, and his lower lip trembled. I kissed it, holding him close.
"Don't worry, you'll find it's not as horrible as you think. You just need to get a bit more control..."
"Over the cat."
"Yes, over the cat."
He hugged back tightly, then chuckled through his tears.
I sighed, pulling away and starting to climb out of the tub. He grabbed my arm and pulled me back in.
"One more time, then you can go."
"Baze, you call me Baze now."
"I hate that."
"I don't care."
He kissed me hungrily, thrusting his tongue between my lips, hiking my thighs up around his waist.
"Say my name." he mumbled into my mouth.
"No, I hate it." I murmured into his. He pulled away, rising to his knees and positioning himself...
He pistoned with his hips, driving into me roughly. I bit back a cry, grinning.
He thrust again, cutting me off, grinning himself. I gasped breathlessly, clinging to the sides of the tub.
His devilish grin spread, and I was surprised to see feline fangs in that Cheshire smile.
"It's a stupid nickname."
"Maybe... but it sounds great when you say it." he shifted back in preparation to thrust again.
"I didn't say you could stop saying it."
I giggled, arching my back and flexing my claws against the bathtub's cool lip.
As he entered me again, I said his name. I kept saying it till it no longer made sense, was just another nonsense utterance of encouragement. This lovemaking wasn't as intense, but it was sweeter. It was more playful. More fun. More... dare I say, human. When he came, it was much gentler. Sweeter. And when he kissed me, his perspiration also smelled sweet. And for the first time in my many long years, all I wanted to do was cuddle.
My grim responsibility killed any joy lingering from that evening's romp.
But... I completed the ritual.
The bodies were stacked on the alter to Themal, a flat place halfway down a rocky volcanic cliff. Away from prying human eyes. It was difficult going, carrying and dragging the useless lumps of spoiled mousemeat down that treacherously narrow footpath. But I was still in that refreshed state I had attained since waking. I felt stronger. I had more energy. I was not winded at any time during my chore.
The bodies now piled at the feet of Themal's large silver likeness, I doused them with special pitch (kept in urns nearby for this purpose) and set them alight with my old, worn flint and steel.
My brothers and sisters should have been standing with me. We should have already quaffed our fill, and been feeling the effects of the drug-imbued lifeblood. The flames should have been flickering in brilliant, mesmerizing color before our dilated eyes as we held hands, chanting the feline praises.
Not so that eventide.
My siblings were all dead.
I saw no reason to linger. I trod the long, rocky path back to the house.
I gave my siblings a burial at sea. It's what they would have wanted. Chamomile, sweet little Chamomile... her body ruined with blisters and charred red blotches... Poor, dear Columbine... it had been him, after all. His ribs were crushed. Their bodies I had wrapped carefully in my very best linens. Egyptian cotton was not fine enough for this purpose.
I pushed Cham and Col over the cliff together. They were so close, in life.
I had tried so hard to find Skullscap's body... alas, he was nowhere to be found. I hoped, futilely, that he may have escaped and survived. It was very doubtful. After his battle with the beast, there was no way Basil's enraged state would let the Child go freely. More likely than not, he had swallowed Skull whole.
Laurel's head I had tried to mend... The best I could do was to tie a cloth around the top of his head and his chin to keep it... to keep it together...
I held his enshrouded head to my chest for some time. I looked up to the waning moon, now no longer a perfect circle.
I asked her why... why she would take away my brothers and sisters... and leave me to do her bidding alone. I asked her what her bidding might be. I asked her why her son had to be so... so enticing, and yet so utterly vicious.
I watched Laurel's body descend into darkness, kissing the pads of my fingers and reaching them after him.
Basil was waiting for me at the back door. He had found a large robe, and was wearing it. I had gotten the robe as a surprise for Laurel... for after the feasting and the sultry orgy that would have ensued after the rituals. It was cashmere. And it was dark scarlet, his favorite color.
Basil had nothing else to wear... and so I said nothing.
"Are... are you ok?"
Stupid question, that.
"I'll be alright. I just need to eat."
His eyes widened, and his hand shot to the punctures in his neck.
"No, not you. That only leads to... to other things."
His mouth stretched immediately into a goofy smile. I sighed, shook my head, and closed the door behind me.
"I eat 'normal' food too, you know. Blood... blood for us is more like..." I thought for a minute. "It's like a necessary vitamin for us to live. Like how you need to eat greens and vegetables."
"I don't need to..." he started to say.
"Alright, bad comparison. I don't know how to explain it. Suffice to say I've had enough blood for now."
He followed me into the kitchen, then into the dining room.
"So, you're really a vam-" I cut him off with a raised hand.
"Don't say it. I told you, we are not... not that."
"So... what are you?"
I thought about how to answer, picking up a thick slice of meat from a platter and nibbling on it.
"We are Moon Children."
He motioned for me to go on. I bid him take a seat while taking one myself. He sat next to me, in the same chair Laurel had occupied two nights before.
I explained our race to him much as I have explained it earlier in this document. I started with the old legend of the Daughter of the Moon. I finished with an explanation of the feast.
"So, I was invited... as food."
"More or less." Why not be honest?
"And I... I..."
"You changed. I'm beginning to wonder if it was the full moon, or my feeding on you, or a combination of both..."
"Well, it's never happened before, I know that." He poured himself a glass of red wine, gulped it.
"When were you born?"
He looked perplexed at this, wiping his mouth on a sleeve. "Nineteen eighty-seven. January. What has that got to do with anything?"
"I just..." my brow creased in thought, and I poured my own glass of red vintage. "I was just curious."
So he really wasn't a long-timer like me. That made the whole matter even more perplexing. Queries after his parents probably wouldn't give any clues to his condition, either.
"You know, I always liked werewolf movies, though." he said wistfully, pouring another glass. "You know, how if you get bit or scratched, you turn into one. I had a nightmare about that when I was a little kid. But... you know, I wasn't scared. So I guess it wasn't really a nightmare."
This intrigued me. "Go on."
He looked at me and raised an eyebrow.
"Tell me about your dream."
"Oh. Well, I don't remember much of it..." He chuckled to himself. "I can't believe all this is happening. Like... I can't believe we had sex. Just like that."
"You didn't give me much choice on the matter. Baze." We both grinned at this. "But you're getting off topic. Tell me about your dream."
"Did we have sex twice? I think I remember it was twice..."
"Yes, it was twice. Please focus."
"But... the first time is kinda fuzzy..."
This made me burst out laughing. I pressed a hand to my mouth, trying to quell the unruly mirth.
"What's so funny?"
"Odd choice of words, Basil."
He frowned. Then his eyebrows shot upward. "Oh. Oh! Ohh..." Dawning realization. "While I was... Really? While I was... that's... that's kind of wrong."
"Basil, please focus. We can talk about that later,"
"-but awesome. Wrong, but awesome."
"Damnit Basil," I growled.
"Right, the fucking dream. Lemme think." He did just that for a moment, swishing the wine around in his glass.
"I dreamt I snuck out my bedroom window. There was a lady outside, she was calling me. Whispering, actually, yeah... she was whispering. Told me to come out. I crawled out the window, and she picked me up. Except her hands weren't hands. They were like paws." He made claws with his hands to illustrate. "I remember that her eyes were orange. Really pretty eyes. They had slits like a cat. Like yours. I remember thinking that werewolves had dog eyes, not cat eyes. And I was going to ask her about it, but she kissed me. On the shoulder." Here, he motioned to the area on his person where I had also "kissed." I noticed the recent punctures looked mostly healed.
"And I remember I wanted to cry... and I wanted to laugh, at the same time. It hurt and tickled, and I asked her to stop. And she did. And then I woke up." He shrugged. "That's it. Happy?"
"No, but that will suffice." Much of what he had said troubled me. I had my hypothesis... but I kept it to myself. Surely, it couldn't have been...
I filled my plate from the stale remains of dinner, and ate without much relish. Basil followed suite, shoveling sustenance down his throat with ravenous appetite.
I had surmised, at this point, that the boy was not human... so it wasn't technically cannibalism he was committing. I did not answer him, though, when he asked me what kind of ham he was eating.
"'Cause I've never had anything like this. It's fantastic!"
"Thank you, I baked it myself." And I left it at that.
We did not speak much of what was to be done. We did not much discuss what had already come to pass. He stayed. That was good enough for both of us.
He had been visiting from the mainland. Northern California to be exact. He had left his luggage at the hotel. I offered to send for his bags, but he refused. He said he felt as if they were not his anymore. That his whole life theretofore was not his own. That he had been playing someone else's role. I wanted to feel touched, but his words did not rest easy in my mind.
Sometimes, I think online shopping was invented by and for Moon Children. Anything a heart could possibly desire can be bought over the internet. It was through this method that I ordered new clothes for my new... my new pet.
Might as well admit it. I sheltered him. I fed him. I... entertained him. I had fed from his veins. He was officially my pet.
Basil ascended the main staircase with a mug of hot cider in each hand. He was still diurnal; and therefore I was kept awake for most of both days following his last change. I accepted the offering of hot beverage, and sipped carefully as I continued my work. I had missed several meetings, and had lost out on some very limited opportunities on the stock market. The screen kept blurring up on me; my eyes were refusing to focus correctly. I had all my conferences over the phone those two days. I probably looked a mess.
"Fress, I'm going to go get us some grub, k?"
"Yes, whatever you want."
"Where do you keep your bacon? I couldn't find it in the fridge."
I was becoming aggravated at his useless questions. I didn't want bacon, I wanted blood. There were several maids downstairs the day previous, cleaning up the remains of the feast party (I had cleaned up the gory bits myself, it was exhausting). I had lusted after them. All of them. I was famished, parched, empty. No. I did not want bacon.
"I think there's some down cellar. In the freezer." I was fairly certain there was, anyway. I didn't want to waste any more brain power going over the inventory at the moment. Anything to make the boy happy and shut him up.
"Alright." He leaned in and planted a loving peck on my pale cheek. I couldn't help but smile a little.
After he had disappeared through the study door, I put my shoulder back to the proverbial grindstone. The numbers, red and green and blue, all soon became meaningless and fuzzy. This company's stock was going through the ceiling, that one was about to drop through the floor, that one hadn't budged in a week... It all started feeling useless. I laid my head on my arms and dozed heavily. Just for a moment, enough to rest my eyes.
His voice sounded cool... cautious.
I rose with difficulty, swiveling in my chair to regard him.
"What is it, Baze?"
He looked very grim, very serious. His lip was set in a stony line; his chin looked slightly dimpled in this countenance.
"Baze, what is it??"
"There are bodies. In your freezer."
I blinked at him, not registering the reason for his distress.
"Yes... and did you find the bacon?"
He exhaled sharply, jaw dropping in incredulity.
"Fressia, there are fucking HUMAN BODIES in your fucking FREEZER."
I sighed, flopping back in my chair. Honestly? Did he think I let all my prey live?
"Basil, calm down. I told you what I am; I told you what I do to survive..."
"Did you feed me people?"
I leaned forward, letting my head drop into my hands.
"You answer me, woman. Did you feed me someone? Did I eat a person?"
I had had enough. He was becoming hysterical. For no really good reason. He needed to be controlled.
I looked him deeply in the eyes, turning on that special ability all Children possess. His eyes remained stonily hard.
"Basil, you will calm yourself. There is no reason to be upset."
He opened his mouth, raising a hand as if about to object. He was stopped. His face loosened for a moment. He hesitated.
"That's not true."
"Yes it is. You will calm yourself. Now."
He frowned again, fists clenching. "Stop it. Don't you do that, I know what you're doing. I won't ca-"
I pounced. I shoved aside the left shoulder of his robe. Sunk my teeth into the side of his neck opposite the side I had bitten already. I drank deep, growling low in my throat as I did. I gurgled his sweet, savory sustenance with impatient greed.
If simple hypnosis didn't work, a bite surely would. In my exhausted state, it seemed like the best course of action.
It was not.
His hands seized my biceps. He gasped. I felt his legs buckle, let him sink to the floor and sank with him. I felt his rage and indignation, his feeling of being wronged. At this, I actually felt a pang of guilt.
My mind wanted to welcome that familiar euphoria into which his sanguine drug always threw me... but it could not. There was too much anger in it. Too much steadfast intransigence. It was therefore tainted with a bitter aftertaste.
I tried again to force my will upon him. I tried to convince him he was never one of the mice. That the only contents of that meat locker were meat. I felt him caving under my onslaught bit by bit... then I felt it fall through. I almost lost my balance, almost fell back from surprise. He held me fast.
He pressed back. He that was once birthed from the womb of the Celestial Cat. No longer he that was the cat born of mice.
He pressed back, not in stubborn injustice at being forced to eat human flesh. He pressed back in outrage that I had dared to force my will upon him.
My hair was seized; I was yanked roughly from his neck. My neck, instead, was pierced by long, thick fangs.
I had never felt so vulnerable. So... weak. This could not be... I was the mistress, and he the pet.
I was thrown to the floor. I grasped my neck, feeling hot tears spill down my hot cheeks. I felt my capris being yanked from my legs. I felt him tear my silken panties from my body.
And I felt his teeth take the back of my neck. I could no longer even attempt to struggle.
He put me in my place with no compassion. He punished me for my tenacity. He showed me how foolish I had been to try to control him... And he made me his mate. His pet. His.
This pain... this pain was unbearable.
And I loved it, in shame.
His will drove deeply into my psyche as his barbed weapon drove deeply into the shuttered entrance of my womb. His mind clamped down on mine, drew forth my moaned apologies.
He left me there, on the floor... writhing in a thin puddle of my own blood and our mingled fluids. I cannot describe quite how that felt. My faint purring was part in agony, and part in gratitude.
He never complained about the meat after that.
He allowed me to sleep the rest of that day. When I woke that evening, I found him... different. He was not the same "Baze" he had been that morning. He seemed more...
He seemed... less.
He was sitting in the parlor, a fat glass of cognac in one hand. He was staring into the false fireplace with dark concentration. When I spoke his name, he raised a hand to me. He did not bother to meet my gaze.