The Creators Ch. 10

Editor's note: this story contains scenes of non-consensual or reluctant sex.

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Chapter Ten: Orphan

Prelude: Sorrow

DIAMOND

Sorrow's gate was held by crumbling stone pillars and adorned with statues whose features had been worn away by millennia of wind and rain. Only the hollows of their eyes and the impressions of their mouths remained on their withered faces, giving them an expression of perpetual horror.

"I suppose I can't change your mind, can I?" Arbitrus asked beside me.

"Nope," I answered.

"If you don't come back, Julia will kill me."

"Yup."

Arbitrus sighed, pulled out his pipe, and sat on the steps. Behind us, the astral plane changed from a land made of candy, to a world of metal and concrete, where odd machines raced down perpendicular roads, and a female statue held a torch aloft in a crowded harbor. I turned my gaze from the impossibility, and touched the gate. It creaked open, I stepped inside, and it creaked shut behind me with a foreboding click of the lock.

Sorrow's realm was a graveyard. The barren exposed soil was wet with the rain that fell perpetually from the grey skies, and splattered on headstones, mausoleums and monuments, all decayed to ruin. The markers on the tombs were worn to illegible imprints, the statues were all as featureless as the ones outside, and the doors of the crypts were all ajar.

"Hello, Untethered One." It was a sonorous voice, almost sweet, but tinged with a sigh of hopelessness. She was an elf, though it was impossible to tell what race she was. Her flesh was pale blue, her hair was silver, and though her complexion spoke of youth, her haggard eyes spoke of ancient world-weariness. Her sclera were navy, matching the color of irises that bore no pupils, but were rimmed with white. She was pretty, I guessed, but though she was naked, I found no attraction to her.

"Hi!" I said cheerily, extending my hand. "You must be Sorrow!"

"I am," Sorrow said, shaking my hand weakly. Her palm was cold and clammy, her fingers were limp, and she offered me a melancholy smile that was somehow sadder than her frown. I didn't want to be rude, so I gritted through the exchange with a smile, counting down the seconds until it would be polite to break off. As if she read my mind, Sorrow hurriedly withdrew her hand, averted her eyes, and shrugged her shoulders insecurely.

"I am sorry," Sorrow said, wrapping her arms around herself. "I know my company is unpleasant, and my touch, even more so. Forgive me, Untethered One."

"No, no..." I trailed off, avoiding her gaze, "...it was fine." I stared at my hand, wondering why everything had suddenly dimmed.

"You have come to ask me about the most ancient one," Sorrow said, leaning against the stone wall that surrounded her vast realm.

"You know about her?" I asked. I supposed the revelation should have excited me, but it only slightly elevated my spirits.

"I do," Sorrow said, sliding down the wall until she sat on the wet soil, hugging her knees, "but if I tell you what I know, then you will leave me, and I will be alone again."

"Yeah," I responded, sitting next to her. What was the point anyway? Even if I did find out about Corruption, nothing would change. The world would still be poop, people would still be poop, the future would always be darker, and the past would always be brighter. Alas, the past was dead and gone, and all the good times were dead and gone with it. I slumped against the wall, and kicked at the damp earth. "I guess I'll just sit here. It's not like it matters."

"Misery loves its company," Sorrow sighed listlessly, and produced a belt and pouch. She unbuttoned the pouch to reveal a syringe, and I held out my arm for her to tie the belt. She cinched me, I pumped my fist, she pushed the needle into my vein, and depressed the plunger. The heroin was cold, and its chill raced up my spine and pooled tearful euphoria into my skull. I exhaled numbly, and felt my head rest against the stones. From my periphery, I saw Sorrow shoot-up, and fall into the same apathetic languidness. She rested on my shoulder, and her touch wasn't as repulsive as it had been before. In fact, it was quite pleasant. She was an oasis of warmth in the cold rain, and when I turned to look at her, I saw her big blue eyes looking back at me; shy, hopeful, and yearning. She was beautiful, the only beauty in this colorless world, the only thing worth breathing for in this perpetual darkness. I cupped her cheek, and Sorrow smiled, and its melancholy sweetness set a fire in my heart; not a passionate inferno, but a steady pilot light, one flicker from going out. I kissed her, and she kissed me, and our wet bodies moved together in the soil, breast to breast, thigh to thigh, lips to lips. We found the heat of each other, and moaned with slow breaths that fogged the air as we shifted beneath the weeping sky.

"Sometimes, I write poetry here," Sorrow said as we walked beneath a derelict bridge, its outline barely visible in the fog. Five skeletons hung from its supports, rattling in the constant wind.

"Who were they?" I asked, my fingers linked with the Sentient's.

"My melds," Sorrow sighed. "None of them wanted me, but they called for me nonetheless."

"They're better off this way," I mused.

"I think so," Sorrow nodded. "We all are."

We walked hand-in-hand through burrows and hovels, where gravestones stood at odd angles, their surfaces so calcified that they were barely discernable from the rocks. There were no plants in Sorrow's realm, not even dead ones. Much like Wrath's kingdom, Sorrow's was a sterile, lifeless place. Even the skeletons that hung from the bridge looked like they'd never born flesh.

"This is my center," Sorrow said, gesturing to a mausoleum that sat upon a hilltop. The soil gave way to bare rock all around the structure, exposing its crumbling foundation.

"Will you go in with me?" I asked her.

"I might as well," Sorrow shrugged. "It's not like I have anything better to do."

We walked into the stone building, the miserable twilight turning to deathly blackness. There were pedestals lit by slotted windows, much like in Wrath's center, but at the very end, was a door. I walked to the end of the hall and grabbed the doorknob, but it wouldn't budge. I guessed it would only open for one person. I sighed, and examined the pedestal closest to the door: Sorrow's oldest memory. Upon it, was a poem. Once I slumbered beneath a sky of gold, atop hills of diamonds sparkling and bold, where love was a wallet you could not fold, and my soul was the first thing that I sold. I read the next poem. Her mind was full of shallow things, of wealth and land and diamond rings, and when she saw the truth was hollow, she found poison sweeter to swallow. I nodded, getting a picture of what had happened to Sorrow. I did not understand why, the one I melded chose to die, was it the greatest form of greed, to steal the only thing you need? I read the last one. I think I've finally found the truth, of mortals' quest to retain youth, to take from Holy Mother's time, to the rafters you must climb. Here's a rope and here's a stool, here's a weight and there's pool, a blade will do but mind the mess, you just bought that satin dress. So I must change who I am, to gently guide the wanting lamb, avarice won't cut the vein, but sorrow might compel the pain.

"Greed," I whispered, turning to Sorrow. "You were once called 'Greed,' weren't you?"

"Was I?" Sorrow replied, not seeming to care.

"Can't you tell?" I asked, gesturing to the poems.

"It's just blank parchment, Untethered One," Sorrow looked pitifully at me, like she was examining a person who had lost their mind. I glanced at the door.

"Can you see the door?" I asked her. Sorrow gave me that sad smile again, and shook her head. I felt an overwhelming lethargy that goaded me to stay in this place of misery, to forever wallow in my comfortable despair and make dazed love to the creature beside me, but then I thought of Mom and Aunt Lucilla, and I even had a passing thought of Justina, and I took Sorrow by the hand, and led her limply to the door. She tensed suddenly.

"Take me no further, Untethered One," Sorrow whispered. I glanced to the side, and saw that we had passed the first poem before the mausoleum's entrance. I gripped Sorrow's hand firmly, struggled through the apathy that told me to stop, and dragged the Sentient to the next poem. "Stop!" Sorrow cried, but she was a weak woman. I dragged her past the next pedestal, and she shrieked terribly, splitting my ears with the sound. I winced through it, and hauled Sorrow the last few steps, feeling her shrill screams ringing in my skull, the whole world vibrating with them. I could barely see the door I was reaching for, but I forced Sorrow's hand to grasp it, fumbled with the knob, and hauled it open.

Part One: Capture the Flag

WILLOWBUD

"...FUCK ME!" I cried, straddling Brandon in his office, his cock thrusting into me, his hands pulling my hair back as his mouth sucked on my jiggling caramel breasts. He drove harder, his hips colliding with loud smacks, his tip pushing against my cervix, making my tongue loll from my gaping mouth as I panted my exhilarating euphoria. God, he was deep this morning. I grinded across his lap, my back wrenching in a violent wave; shoulders pinching together, spine curving, hips jerking forward and back, my ass applauding behind me. I grabbed his head and pushed his face deeper, suffocating him with what little chest I had, growling my approval as I felt him teeth me in defiance. He stood up, our pelvises locked together, and he dropped me unceremoniously on his desk, papers and candles flying, dishes clattering as I was dragged mercilessly across its surface. His torso pressed to mine, his weight sank into me, and I hooked my ankles behind his driving ass, and pulled him deeper. His breath panted against my neck as I hyperventilated against his, my lungs fiery with each desperate intake, my voice high with each exhalation. The familiar pressure ballooned with in me, causing tremors to wrack my form as it expanded; legs trembling, abdomen clenching, feet kicking wildly for purchase.

"Make-me-come, make-me-come, make-me-come!" I screamed, and he obeyed. I dug an encouraging nail in his back, and felt him return fire with the acceleration of his thrusts. I squeezed him with my thighs, with my arms, trapping myself in his violence, goading him to drive harder, to break me, to push me over the edge. The pressure expanded, electrifying every nerve, sending my heartrate skyrocketing. It was coming now, well-past the point of no return, compelling my back to arch, my mouth to scream, my eyes to widen, my head to fall back, and my throat to exalt my ecstasy.

"Oh God, fuck me, Sister Julia!" I screeched as I came. Brandon abruptly stopped thrusting, but he couldn't stop from blowing. He groaned and growled as I sung over him, legs twitching in their lock as his cock opened my sanctity. Hot seed shot into me, pooling directly into my maternal reservoir, radiating into my depths as I spasmed with glee. Our sweaty bodies heaved as our diaphragms relaxed, and Brandon took my face into his, and looked steadily into my eyes.

"Did you just..."

LUCILLA

"...scream for 'Night Eyes?!'" I panted against Julia's neck, the sweat dripping off our bodies, the morning sun shining through the two-story window of our new bedroom. Julia gasped something unintelligible and tried pushing me off her, but I locked my legs and pinned her shoulders to the mattress. Her cock was still hard in my pussy, but I'd had my release, and wasn't feeling too frisky anymore.

"Hmm?" I narrowed my eyes at her, watching her face contort and redden.

"Yes," she mumbled, looking extremely sorry.

"Julia, what the fuck?!" I hissed. "I don't mind that you're fucking her," (bullshit) "but when we're together, it's supposed to be just us! Get her out of your head!"

Julia mumbled something again, trying to push me off, but I would not be denied. This was too far.

"What did you say?" I growled. She twisted her lips, seeming to block the words from exiting her mouth. "Julia, do you love her?" I hissed. Her lips trembled, and my heart began to sink. This was Passion all over again, only much, much worse.

"No!" she finally shouted, "No, I don't love her! I'm addicted to her!" Julia finally managed to push me off her, and she sat upright, slouched, and put her face in her arms. "It's not love, Lucilla, not even close. It's... it's like she's giving me something I need, and if I go without for too long, it's all I can think about. It's not just the sex, it's..." Julia looked up at me, genuine fear in her green eyes. "When she kisses me, she breathes Corruption's gift into my lungs. I let it linger, let it take me, and then I push it out. I do it to show her that I'm stronger, to show her that Corruption can be resisted. Only what I don't show her, Lucilla, is that it gets harder every time for me to let Corruption go."

I stared at Julia with my mouth agape, and she hung her head in shame, the tears glistening in her emerald eyes. I crawled to her, still numb with the revelation, and wrapped myself around her, pulling her close, letting her feel my nakedness envelope her body. Her head dropped on my shoulder, and I brushed the hair from her face, and planted a kiss on her forehead.

"You and I are getting Diamond, and we are leaving now," I whispered, my voice shaking. "This is something you should've told me, Julia; this wasn't a decision you had the right to make on your own."

"I can't run from this," Julia whispered back.

"I'll fucking hogtie you if I have to," I spoke into her hair. "The further we get from Drastin, the better you'll feel. We'll take Brandon with us to Arbortus, and we won't come back."

"No," Julia said, emeralds glinting, "I mean I can't run from this, Lucilla. This is my destiny. This is what God made me for."

"What are you talking about?"

"Everything that's happened to me," a tear ran down her cheek, "everything I've done, it was all to prepare me for this. I'd thought God had no purpose for me, I'd thought she'd abandoned me in the ashes of my home, but that was just my first step on her path. Night Eyes is my destiny, Lucilla; I was made for her. She has rekindled my faith, and shown me that I am still on the Maternal Path."

"You're fucking delusional."

"I am not!" Julia said with such vehemence that I flinched. What was the one thing Julia held more dearly than me, or Diamond, or anyone else? Her fucking Holy Mother. I wanted to scream at her, but instead, I set my jaw, and listened.

"We're like pieces to a puzzle, her and I," Julia said, eyes flowing freely now, "scarred in the same way, molded in the same way. If I hadn't killed my parents, if I hadn't loved and killed Passion, if I hadn't kissed you that night, then I would never have been able to face Night Eyes. The Holy Mother has sharpened me to pry Corruption from Willowbud, to understand Night Eyes so perfectly that I know exactly how to destroy her. That is my purpose, Lucilla, and I cannot walk away from it."

"And what is Night Eyes then?" I whispered. "The tool of Satan? Are you the champion of God on a holy battlefield?"

"Yes," Julia whispered. "Yes, that's right. I'm not blaspheming; it's what I truly believe. It's the only explanation."

"The last time God and Satan had a bout," I said carefully, "God lost, Julia. Satan made her his bitch; it's in the fucking bible. If we're operating on your logic, what makes you think you won't share her fate?"

"Faith," Julia beamed at me, "but not in God; in you, and in Diamond. You are what holds me fast, what keeps me from drifting away from myself." Julia traced a tender finger along my arm, following the path of one of my many glowing lines. "You are what binds me. If you ever doubt my love, Lucilla, simply look at your own flesh, and see it burning with it."

"Goddamn it," I grumbled, staring into Julia's loving eyes, "you really know how to push my buttons. C'mon, sit up; I've gotta suck your dick now, there's no getting around it."

BRANDON

"No, you can't just suck my dick and get around this," I said, putting my hand on Willowbud's head, and pushing away. "What the fuck was that?"

"I told you," Willowbud growled, stubbornly trying to get my penis into her mouth, "Sister Julia's got me all horned-up, so in the heat of the moment, my mind was fucked. Don't take it personally, Brandon; you know I love only you."

"Really?" I snorted, "Because I haven't been feeling the love since Julia got here."

"Ooo, are we having an argument?" Willowbud grinned.

"No-no-no-no-no," I said firmly, "you don't get to turn this into a joke; we're having this fucking talk. What is going on with you and Julia?"

"I'm trying to corrupt her, and she's trying to save me from Corruption," Willowbud said simply. "And she's winning, Brandon, which is probably why I'm not too interested in you right now. There, we had the talk. Now, do you still want that blowjob?"

"Wait..." I frowned, my brain struggling to process what I'd just heard, "...what do you mean, 'she's winning?'"

"What does it sound like?" Willowbud smiled. "Sister Julia really knows how to push my buttons, and Corruption's almost left me twice now."

"What?!"

"The first time, Sister Julia almost scared the bitch away, and the second, she almost convinced me to kick her out. I can feel the connection between us weakening, like a... like a barrier being pulled away, and on the other side of that barrier is the old me. I hate the old me." Willowbud frowned for a moment, then grinned up at me, her white-lipsticked lips lowering to my tip. "So if you want this little romance to continue, lover-boy, you should consider intervening. Willowbud doesn't give a shit about you, but Night Eyes wants to suck your cock."

I hooked my arms into Willowbud's armpits, and hoisted her atop me.

"What?" she asked, confused.

"I don't need a blowjob, Willowbud;" I said as she shifted herself into the crook of my side, "I need to know if what we have will last."

"I won't make you any promises," Willowbud sighed. "Promises make liars of people, and I've never lied to you."

"No, you're brutally honest," I muttered. Willowbud chuckled her signature chuckle.

"You've been spending a lot of time with Her Highness." Willowbud noted, "Should I be worried?"

"We're friends of circumstance," I said, and gave Willowbud a sneer, "and she sucks dick way better than you."

"All that practice, no doubt," Willowbud snorted.

"I've never known you to slut-shame; why don't you like Lucilla?"

"She's a princess."

"So are you."

"Yeah, but I didn't exactly live the royal lifestyle, now did I?" Willowbud retorted. I turned my body until we faced each other, breath on each other's lips, eyes inches apart.

"You don't usually hide things from me, Willowbud," I whispered. "Is it because she's Julia's lover? Are you jealous of her?"

"No, that's not it," Willowbud said, eyes staring intently back.

"Then why?"

"Her voice annoys me," Willowbud said, then recommenced her journey to my penis. I palmed her face, and stubbornly resisted her teasing licks. She finally sighed her resignation, peeled away my fingers, and revealed an expression that looked entirely out of place on her face: sadness. Just the hint of it, but it was there. "I am jealous of Lucilla," Willowbud said quietly, "but not because Julia loves her. Every time I look at Lucilla, and see those patterns on her body, I'm reminded of what we don't have. She has something that I want, but you can't give it to me. Or maybe you just won't; maybe it belongs to someone else. Where is Angela?"