The Creators Ch. 08

"Truth be told, sister," I said, greedily lapping what had sprayed from her. "I'd always wanted you too. Now, where were we?"

"You were asking me about Sister Julia, Master," Flora said, her voice dripping with thanks, her eyes my violet. "You wanted to know why I wanted to get here first."

"Go on," I said, sucking her ass off my fingers.

"Sister Julia is a devil clothed in piety; a murderer, a deceiver, and an agent of the emperor."

"Agent of the emperor?" I asked incredulously, "Didn't she kill his daughter?"

"She bound with his daughter!" Flora smiled, beckoning me to touch her more. "The emperor spun his lies, and the matriarchs wanted to believe them so badly that we willingly trapped ourselves in his web. We let our guard down, and the Heat Bringer passed through our borders unmolested. She seduced Passion, mated with her, and once Passion had provided an offspring that could survive outside the womb, Julia killed her."

"What?!"

"Now she uses this offspring as a compass," Flora whispered. "She comes to Drastin to find the Life Giver! She says she wants the Life Giver's help to replace Passion's womb, but I know she just wants to kill him to doom Arbortus to decay. That is why I came in such urgency; Willowbud might be the only one who can stop her! Did I answer your questions? Will you fuck me now?"

"Shit," I hissed, my heart pounding. "Shit, shit, shit!"

I left my sister whining for me on the floor, and raced up to my room. My wise niece had banned astral communicators from the household, so I had no way of calling for immediate help. Instead, I scratched-out a letter addressed from Gloria, tied it to a pigeon's leg, and sent it flying, hoping it would find Willowbud in time. If Willowbud thought I'd gotten this information, she'd be suspicious, but if it came from Gloria, she wouldn't bother questioning it. I just had to get to the old vampire before Willowbud came knocking, or god forbid, Sister Julia.

ANGELA

Brandon thought it was strange that I didn't even blink when the truth about me was revealed. When you're dead, it doesn't really matter what kind of dead you are. I was an infantile Sentient, and I would grow to a full Sentient if Brandon didn't bind with me before he died; it seemed to me like there wasn't much in the way of options, so why complain about what you can't change? The idea of having sex with my twin didn't bother me as much as it probably should have, but sex was an abstract concept without a body. The only time I'd felt lust was when I was shared Justina's, and Justina didn't care who she fucked. I'd never felt my own physical attraction, but I knew I loved my brother, and I knew I could learn to want him. He obviously wanted me.

"Well?" I giggled, bent over before Brandon, my ethereal dress hiked over my nonexistent hips, my hands spreading glutes that didn't exist. "Do you have it yet?"

"Not quite," Brandon said, his voice heavy in his chest, his eyes staring fixedly at me as he did his work, "do you think you can spread a little wider?"

"Like this?" I giggled again, thinking this was the funniest fucking thing in the world. I couldn't feel my own touch, so I had no idea if I was spreading myself gaping, or tearing myself in half.

"Could you..." Brandon started, then shook his head, and went back to work.

"Could I...?" I prompted with a knowing grin, "feeling frisky again, dearest brother?"

"Yes," Brandon said, giving me a bashful smile. This happened every time I modeled for him, so I was prepared. I'd even practiced at nights when I was alone with nothing else to do. I painted on a lustful smile, hoping it looked sexy, slid one hand between my legs, and the other between my cheeks. I couldn't feel if my fingers were penetrating me, but diligent practice in the mirror had allowed me to zero-in on the holes and simulate masturbation without having my hands simply pass through my pelvis. By the look on Brandon's face, I guessed I'd gotten it right in this time. He bit his lip, unzipped his fly, and pulled out his engorged manhood. I gave it a leering glare, as I knew he'd want, and then started moaning, hoping it sounded realistic enough. The first day we tried this, I definitely went overboard, and Brandon had cringed back as I started screaming like a banshee. I toned it down a little, and now moaned in almost the same tenor as a sob, with a slight inflection to keep it needful. Brandon started relieving himself, and I began moving my hands a little faster, daring to push them a little deeper, hoping that I wasn't currently fist-fucking my own hip bone. Brandon's hand accelerated along his length, his eyes staring ravenously at me as I spread my legs and arched my back, bit my lip and drooped my eyes. His panting grew audible, the exertion of his pleasure became obvious, the concentrative gaze in his eyes grew to avarice. I escalated my tones, crying out for him like I knew he liked, sounding pathetic vulnerable soprano notes that drove him crazy. His panting became grunting, his hand jerked with fervency, his hips began to thrust, and he came. I grinned; I had something new for Brandon today. I dashed over to him, opened my smiling mouth, and held out my tongue as his semen splashed through my face. The smile on Brandon's face made all the practice worth it. When Brandon was finished, he petted my hair affectionately, running his hand carefully through the air where my head should be. This was my favorite part of the charade, when he looked at me like that. I couldn't feel the desires he felt, but I could certainly share in his love.

A loud knock on the door broke us from the moment, and we exchanged an alarmed look. No one should be knocking on Gloria's door.

"Should I see who it is?" I asked nervously.

"No," Brandon frowned, stuffing his cock back into his pants, "if it's Willowbud, and she sees you, I'm fucked, and not in the good way."

The knock sounded again.

"Maybe we should just pretend we're not here?" I whispered. Brandon nodded. He slowly, quietly, closed the coffin lid, and thumbed the combination. There was a silence outside, and then another knock, this one louder than before.

"Stop, Diamond," a female voice sighed. "Knocking louder isn't going to make them come sooner. They're probably not home."

"Well then, what are we supposed to do?" Diamond asked. "Just loiter outside for a few hours?"

"I guess," the other voice said, sounding exhausted, "maybe they'll show up, if they still even live here."

"How do we know this 'Gloria' isn't working with Night Eyes?" another voice, this one sounded oddly snobbish, like how I'd imagine a countess talked.

"Arbitrus told me he knew her, and that she could be trusted," the tired voice replied.

"That's a relief," snobby voice laughed. "We'll just trust the word of a crazy old man who spends his waking hours drunk, and his sleeping hours in a ghost world. Hey Sparkles, what do you got there?"

"Nothing," Diamond said guiltily.

"Let me see it," the tired voice now. "Diamond, where did you get this?"

"They were just sitting in a row on the street, so I... kind of just... you know... grabbed it."

"You stole it?!"

"I didn't know it was stealing until the man started running after me, and then it was too late!"

"You little klepto bitch!" snobby voice giggled. "I'll have to punish you for this, you know that?"

"Why did you take this, Diamond?"

"I wanted to get Brandon a present," Diamond said, sounding very sorry. "I thought he might like it, but I don't know what boys my age like to play with."

"Sure, you do," snobby voice sniggered. Diamond moaned through a giggle, then there was a loud slap, and a yelp from snobby voice.

"Ow, you bitch!"

"Can you keep your hands out of my daughter's pants for five minutes, Lucilla?!"

"Oh, look who's talking!" Lucilla scoffed. "Was I supposed to believe that bathroom break lasted ten minutes because they ran out of toilet paper? Unlike Sparkles here, I wasn't born yesterday."

"Actually, I was a born a week ago—"

"I'm sorry you weren't included, but there simply wasn't enough room in the stall for three of us," tired voice explained, "and I'd like to point out, just for the record because I know you'll bring this up later, that was during an agreed-upon rest period, and did not affect our travel time."

"We had this talk, Julia!" Lucilla growled. "We're a tricycle; there is no third wheel! If you just told me that you wanted a quickie with your daughter, I would've been—"

"There's a girl staring at us through the door," Diamond said, interrupting the quarrelling lovers. I froze, only my eyes moving as they slowly tracked to Brandon, whose jaw was practically unhinged, his own eyes almost falling from his sockets.

"What?" Julia's hushed voice.

"Sparkles," Lucilla's careful voice, "your eyes, they're... purple."

"Arbitrus said there was some of Passion left in her," Julia whispered. "Diamond, what can you see?"

"Hi!" Diamond's voice came brightly, directed right at me, "Are you a Sentient? You're not Corruption, are you? Because then my mom would have to kill you. She's the Heat brawah."

Someone quickly stifled Diamond's mouth with their palm, but it was too late. Brandon's jaw was defying the laws of human anatomy, his face pale, his whole body visibly shaking. Sister Julia Gendian, the Heat Bringer assassin, was at our doorstep.

BRANDON

"Oh-shit-oh-shit-oh-shit-oh-shit!" I whispered, frantically looking for a weapon. Sister Julia Gendian killed a fucking princess as her first public act of divinity, and now she was knocking on my door. Not only that, but her daughter (who she was apparently fucking) could see Angela, which meant she was connected with Sentients somehow, and we definitely didn't need any more of that shit.

"Life Giver?" Julia called from outside. "Are you in there?"

"Don't answer!" Angela hissed.

"I got you a present!" Diamond called.

"The stories about me are lies," Julia yelled. "I mean you no harm."

"Just stay put!" Angela whispered to me. "I'll get Willowbud to come help!"

"No!" I hissed back, "If you go to Willowbud, and she sees what we've been doing... I don't want to think about it."

"There's a fucking deific assassin right outside!" Angela growled. "What's the use in having a psychotic girlfriend if you can't call on her for situations like this?"

"If Julia wanted to kill me," I whispered, collecting myself, "she would've blown the door down by now."

"You're not seriously going to let her in, are you?" Angela whispered, face aghast.

"What choice do we have?"

"You can destroy the body," Angela said sadly. "You can always make me another one."

"No," I said, shaking my head and walking toward the door, feeling my heart thundering in my chest. "I have a feeling that very soon, time is going to become a precious resource. Things are moving fast, Angela; it may take months for me to steal away enough hours to come as far as we have, and god only knows what will happen along the way."

JULIA

I actually hoped the Life Giver wasn't home. A knot of anxiety was forming in my throat every time I called for him, accompanying a sense of foreboding that crept in the back of my mind. For better or worse, this meeting was a historical moment, and the gravity of it was tugging at me. I called again, and again, no one answered. I was about to resign myself to renting an inn when the door creaked open, and a pair of blue eyes peered from the darkness.

"Sister Julia Gendian?" a man's voice asked. That certainly wasn't a vampire, so that meant this was...

"Hi Brandon!" Diamond said cheerily to The Life Giver. "Did you make a Sentient? That's not good. Anyway, here's a toy soldier. Aunt Lucilla said you probably like playing with your penis more, but I hope you like it!"

I buried my face in my hands and prayed that a lightning bolt would kill me. The Life Giver stared dumbfoundedly at the half-breed nymph holding out a wooden soldier, a hopeful smile stretched across her lips. There was the sound of someone choking beside me, and then a sputtering cackle sung from Lucilla.

"Uh... thanks, I guess. Come in," Brandon muttered, taking the toy, and opening the door.

BRANDON

There were two things I noticed right away. One, was that Julia, Lucilla and Diamond were all stone-cold foxes, and the other, was that two of them had dicks. Diamond didn't seem to care if anyone saw it dangling against her sundress, but Julia tried to hide hers with a low inseam. Unfortunately (or fortunately) for her, Julia's endowment was too pronounced to conceal. Her emerald irises caught me gawking, and her sparkling cheeks turned the color of her crimson hair. That was an interesting reaction from a cold-blooded murderer.

"Wow," Diamond gasped, looking at the mural on the ceiling that depicted a blood orgy, "that is gross."

"Be nice, Diamond," Julia said tersely, giving me an apologetic look, "it's rude to insult someone's home when you're a guest."

"Sorry," Diamond said, gawking at the red torches, the gothic pillars, and the coffin. Julia saw me looking inquisitively at her daughter, obviously noting the nonexistent age gap between them.

"It's a long story," Julia smiled, entwining her fingers nervously. "Can we... um... sit down?"

"Of course," I said, pulling boxes off the couch. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"Wine, for God's sake," Lucilla said, exasperated, and obviously used to people doing what she said.

"Nothing alcoholic for me; I indulged too much last night," Julia replied, her smile small and respectful, looking every-bit the nun she once was.

"I will also have some wine!" Diamond proclaimed, as if the statement was to be etched in stone.

"She will not," Julia smiled again, giving her daughter a look of adoring annoyance.

I nodded, completely perplexed by the situation. Julia was nothing like the person depicted in the papers. If anything, she reminded me of my pious mother. Unfortunately for Julia, Gloria had two things in her pantry: wine, and jars of blood. I was sure Gloria longed for the day when alcoholism was her worst problem. I poured two glasses of water for the hermaphrodites, two generous glasses of wine for Lucilla and myself, and then sat across from them, Angela floating at my side.

"My name's Diamond!" Diamond said with overt friendliness, holding out her hand to me. I shook it carefully, unsure of what to think of the odd nymph-elf.

"Hello Diamond," I said, "I'm Brandon Sorenson, the Life Giver, and this is my sister, Angela Sorenson; she's not yet a Sentient."

"Hello Angela, Brandon," Julia smiled brightly, inclining her head to each of us, though she missed Angela's location by about a foot. "I'm Julia Gendian, the Heat Bringer."

"And I'm Princess Lucilla Flitari," Lucilla said, which got an eyebrow raise from me. "I know, I know," she waved, "I'm supposed to be dead."

There was an uncomfortable silence between the four of us. Diamond grinned, seemingly unaffected by the awkwardness, Julia sipped her water, looking like she was regretting turning-down wine, Lucilla looked grateful to have made the right choice, Angela floated with shifting nervous eyes, and I decided it was a good time to get a little drunk. I finished off my glass, poured another, finished that off, and waited for the liquid courage to make my lips form words.

"So, I've got about..." I said as I looked at my pocket watch, "...one hour before me and the Earth Former are getting our assholes bleached, so let's get talking."

Three fountains sprayed from three sets of shocked lips, immediately accompanied by three pairs of widened eyes. I smiled; that was as good a way to start a conversation as any, I guessed.

TERA

My body was naked, pressed against cold stone, hidden in shadow. I slithered past the house's corner, my knife grazing the stonework with a metallic song. I stopped, my breath catching, my ears listening. The steady flow of conversation continued without interruption, and my heart slowed back to its methodical crawl. It didn't sound like Brandon was in immediate danger, but that hardly meant he was safe. An assassin's best weapon is congeniality, as I well knew, and an innocent smile could be a better disarmer than dismemberment. I ducked beneath the window, and noiselessly hoisted myself onto the roof. I danced across the shingles, my feet padding silently, crouching to make sure I stayed below the roofline, out of sight. Gloria had built her house with well-earned paranoia, making it impossible to penetrate without great force or effort. I listened carefully to the conversation below me, triangulating exactly where each speaker was. I reached into the belt slung across my hip, and pulled out a clear flask. There was a wick stuck in its cork that extended into the stem, where a gaseous green substance bubbled with obvious volatility. I marked my spot, pulled out a match, and lit the wick.

JULIA

"...and then we came here," I said, finishing my story. I'd done my fair share of shocked gasping and disbelieving goggling during his story, and now it was Brandon's turn to gawk. Our stories fit like pieces to a puzzle, except that our merging didn't create a beautiful landscape, but a horrific abstraction.

"Holy shit, what a mess," Brandon muttered.

"Yeah," I relied dumbly.

"Well," he grunted, "obviously I'm not going to help you if you kill my girlfriend, so scratch that off your list."

"Yeah," I replied again. Night Eyes was not only Willowbud Autumnsong, but the Earth Former. The realization made me numb, but I wasn't sure it changed anything. Arbortus could wilt to nothing and that would be a tragedy, but a corrupted Earth Former would be a catastrophe. On the other hand, could I justifiably kill a Creator, just to kill Corruption?

"Do you think Freydis and Flora are alright?" Diamond asked beside me.

"I don't know if they're alright, but they certainly never came to the Screeching Siren," Brandon said.

"What do you think happened to them?" Lucilla asked. I shrugged, and the world exploded.

My ears rang, debris pinged across my body, I was on my knees, then forced to my stomach. My head beat like a drum, there were hands grabbing for me, my vision was nothing but the blurred grout of a stone floor. Something struck me in the back, blasting the air from my lungs. It felt like I'd been punched, but then the pain came, and the cold feeling, the invasion of metal, and I knew I'd just been stabbed. I shrieked, the world clarifying with the sudden horror, the sound flying back to me in a whoosh. People were screaming, crying, metal ringing and furniture crashing. I was on fire now, blazing with barely any control, gritting my teeth to keep the pain from making me explode. I sucked in a ragged breath, and the pain was gone. I didn't bother questioning the sudden change; I just climbed to my knees, and looked up.

I didn't know where Diamond had gotten the sword, and I was even more confused about how she knew how to use it. She was a spinning fury of scarlet hair, moving with blinding speed, backing the assassin into a corner with expert strikes. The succubus parried desperately, moving with equal swiftness, but unequal ferocity. My daughter struck with brutal precision, each blow seemingly too strong to have come from her small frame, each clash ringing with a fury that sent the assassin's defenses reeling. Diamond feigned right, dipped, elbowed the succubus in the ribs, and then caught her hand at the wrist, leaving the succubus wide open for Diamond's incoming stab. Diamond stopped in her tracks. "Master," she said, and the succubus grabbed her before I could react, turned her around, and held the knife against the back of her neck where skull met spine.