The Creators Ch. 11

"That's wonderfully cathartic, but—and I mean this in the best way possible—what the fuck are you going to do about it?"

I looked at the elves, all of them laughing and moaning, thrusting and spreading, and I grinned. "I am seduction incarnate. I am carnality and sensuality, sin and debauchery. I am sex!"

"Go get 'em, tiger." Lucilla sighed. She didn't sound convinced, but I'd show her. I'd show everyone. I'd show me.

TERA

I'd been pretty nervous sitting alone in my prep room. Thankfully, Julia decided she wanted a little revenge for this morning, and now I felt absolutely splendid, if not a little sore between the legs. I recalled the things she did to me, and the things she made me do to her, and I couldn't stop from smiling to myself.

"Something funny, Tera?" Astrid asked from across the dugout. I almost didn't hear her over the roar of the crowd.

"Nope," I grinned. Astrid frowned, and went back to work polishing her blade. As she moved stone across steel, I noticed a light tugging on her lips. "Something funny, Astrid?"

"Nope," Astrid said, biting her lip. I stared at her until she could no longer pretend I wasn't, then she looked up with a radiant smile across her face. "Oh, it's nothing. Just... Mistress kissed me is all."

"Mistress kisses you every day, everywhere," I laughed confusedly.

"Yeah," Astrid shrugged her shoulders, "but this one was... it was different. It was like how she kissed me before." Astrid was almost blushing. "I always hoped that if I won the championship, Mistress would feel different about me. I've done everything she wanted, I've become everything she wanted, but nothing worked. I thought she'd never care about me, but maybe... just maybe...."

"Astrid, we've had this talk," I frowned, putting my hand on her knee. "Mistress is incapable of loving you. It's Willowbud who cared about you. You need to—"

"What the fuck do you know about love, Tera?!" Astrid snapped at me. I withdrew my hand. I was going to tell Astrid that Willowbud was still there, and that 'she'd be back sooner than you think; don't give up hope!' but apparently, she didn't want that pep-talk anymore, even if it was truer now than any other time I'd said it. If Astrid wanted to live in a fantasy, I wasn't going to stop her. Not now, not when I needed her this desperately. The standing Pit champion was a human man who went by the moniker 'Skull,' which was just charming. It was the first time Astrid and I would outnumber an opponent, which made me even more warry.

"If Mistress can love Brandon, then Mistress can love me. I know what I felt," Astrid reaffirmed. "Jade was right; I should embrace Corruption. She's a part of Mistress now. She's the guiding truth."

You picked a great time to turn heel, Astrid, I thought with a sigh. I suspected Astrid was just trying to force herself into accepting reality. I didn't have the heart to tell her that by the end of her match, Mistress might be dead and gone, and Willowbud would be there instead. And Willowbud will need you, Astrid. She'll need you desperately to tell her that you forgive her. Though Astrid didn't look like she needed forgiveness. Corruption and Mistress had done their work well. The Pit horn sounded, and I felt my pulse quicken. Astrid only grinned.

"Half an hour," Astrid said in a hushed voice, the mania starting to play behind her usually-steely eyes. I didn't know why I was so skittish. All I had to do was sit back, and let Astrid have her glory.

ANGELA

Brandon touched his hand to the shelf of his dresser, and the wooden piece dissolved into the bark. It left an empty space along the subtle curve of his Great Maple, and he traced a single finger down one of the paths the bark yielded. The entire tree seemed to groan, and then the bark opened. Blue light struck my corneas, leaving after images on my lenses. When I opened my eyes, I was staring at a mirror. That was my first reaction, anyway. My brain hadn't yet made the realization that my face—my face, not Diamond's—was staring sightlessly back at me. Then it hit me. Light blue eyes, pale skin, strawberry-blonde hair, a smattering of freckles across a pointed nose, and a pronounced chin. My face. I looked down at my body, at the generous swell of my chest, the soft flat of my abdomen, the widening of my hips, and the supple domes they bore. I was beautiful. Vines glowing with blue energy were attached to my neck, sternum, and abdominal vitals, the tendrils pulsing with the cadence of my heartbeat. My heartbeat. Mine.

"Not the freakshow in Gloria's coffin, huh, Diamond?" Brandon laughed. "I don't know why making people is so much harder than everything else. I can just will any animal into existence, but people take time. And of course, I can't make a person, only a body, and just creating an empty husk takes the entire lifeforce of a Great Maple."

"She's beautiful," I whispered. I was vaguely aware that I was crying.

"Well, I'll admit to taking some artistic licenses," Brandon chuckled. "I didn't have Angela to model for me, so I needed to go by memory, and my memory made things... bigger."

"She's perfect." My voice was air.

"You think so?" Brandon asked, happy with my review. "Angela's projection is just her perception of herself, so if I fucked up, I'll never hear the end of it, believe me."

"You're wrong," I said, keeping my face obscured with my hair. "Angela's projection is your perception of her."

"What are you talking about?" Brandon laughed incredulously.

"She's just an idea you kept alive," My eyes were blurring. "She's just a feeling you couldn't lose."

"Diamond, are you alright?"

"She's your serenity," I whispered.

Brandon was quiet for a moment. "Serenity," he finally said in a low voice, "that's a good word for her."

"It's a name," I muttered. I wanted to turn around and tell him. Every fiber of my being urged me to, but I didn't. I couldn't. If I did, then it would all be lost. I would sacrifice everything just to feel his breath on my lips. I turned away from Brandon and myself, and I walked wordlessly away, my footsteps echoing in the cavernous trunk. A pair of callused hands clasped my shoulders. I tried to keep walking. They held me fast. I tried to wiggle free. They turned me around. I tried not to look. They tilted my face upward. I opened my eyes. There he was, his astonished face peering into mine as if he was seeing me for the first time.

"I thought that what Gloria did was just a twisting of my perception. I was afraid that once I made you physical, I'd realize I could do everything but save you. But I see you now, clothed in another woman, and it's just you, Angela." Brandon's breath was hot and panting on my lips. "It's just you I want."

"It's not me!" I blubbered. "I'm Diamond. You're wrong!"

"I don't know Diamond at all," Brandon's hand brushed down my neck, "but I know you. I know every part of you."

"Don't be fucking stupid," I hissed, molding my body to his, breathing his breath.

"We both know I can't do that," Brandon smiled against my lips, and I knew I couldn't stop myself. The moment his breath caressed my tongue, I was drunk with him. The world could go to hell.

Interlude Four: Chaos

DIAMOND

I journeyed along the outer wall of Chaos's realm, trying to find its exit, hoping that if I did, it would be open for me. But Chaos's realm seemed as endless as Corruption's, and all the thresholds I found only bore the iron door that lead back to the monochromatic basement below, and they were all locked and sealed. Throughout my astral trek, every thought and feeling I experienced manifested itself physically. Usually as a plant with the theme of my emotion and memory, but sometimes as a stone representation, leaving a trail of cerebral breadcrumbs behind me. I walked through fields of golden wheat, through youthful forests of pine, and through swamps of peat and muck. The woodlands grew denser, the trees grew larger, and the world became darker with the thickening canopy. The creatures of Chaos's realm watched me, staring blankly from white eyes at the intruder in their midst. Deer scuttled in the brush, squirrels chirped their warnings, and the low growls of more dangerous beasts sounded on the wind, prickling the hair on my neck.

"Oh crap," I sighed, and my exclamation formed physically beside me as a swirling stone turd. I glanced down the length of the rock wall, watching it disappear into the foliage. I'd stumbled upon a collection of houses in a clearing, their windows shuttered and their doors hanging from creaking hinges. There were a few towns in Chaos's realm, but they were all vacant, save for spiders and rats. They looked like they'd never been lived in. Though the desolate townships were eerie when I walked through them, they were pleasant to look at from a distance. They were nestled into the hillsides, strewn delightfully along valleys, and perched atop ridges. They'd been placed with great care, and upon closer inspection, I noticed they'd been furnished. They were all overgrown with the wilderness now, and the reclamation of time had greened their facades and rotted their shingles. But why? Why was Chaos's realm so... real? The only abstractions in Chaos's realm were my own memories; I didn't find one of her own. This place was her mind, but it felt like the physical realm. There were several times where I had to look up at the astral sun just to make sure I hadn't somehow crossed over.

I plodded along the wall, whistling to keep my sanity, glancing nervously into the dark hovels of the old growth. The trees were mostly oaks now, thick and twisted with age, their branches reaching like arthritic limbs. A heavy fog filled the gaps between them, blinding the world beyond their trunks. The fog grew thicker as I walked. My footsteps stopped meeting grass and soil, but creaked along overlapping roots. Soon, the entire forest floor was nothing but the snarling lengths of oak roots, strangling each other for room. The fog grew thicker. Only the black lengths of trunks could be discerned between the hazy voids, and I had to keep my hand against the wall or I'd lose it. The fog grew thicker. I couldn't see where my own feet stepped, nor the outlines of the oaks. I reached out to keep from walking into something, my hand waving in front of me like a blind old woman. I stopped. My ears perked. My footsteps echoed against the unseen trees, the sound muffled and damp in the humid air. It dissipated, then went silent.

"You're not being followed," I said to myself. "It's just your mind messing with you."

It's just your mind messing with you. It's just your mind messing with you. It's just your mind messing with you. This was once a warmer place, of kind eyes on morning's face. A thousand years they are as one, like conjoined twins of the sun. I remember the song of birds, and the joy in my holy mother's words. And when they set with rattling breath, they're torn apart by the hands of death. You killed her. You killed her. You killed her. What have we done? We can fix this. We can fix this. We can fix this. We can forget this. Where do they go? You are my daughter, my first of another, and you will be my joy in this world. My joy in this world. My joy in this world. My joy. Joy. Joy. Joy.

"Stop," I whispered, quelling the madness of my mind. The silence came back to me, and I turned around, and there she was. Hatred.

"Why did you follow me?" I hissed, but she just smiled frozenly back. It was a statue of my consciousness, formed in my moment of mania, but why? I shook my head, took a deep breath, and walked blindly through the fog. My feet touched stone, and I looked down. Footprints. I followed them, and they turned away from the wall. I kept my arm outstretched until my fingers barely grazed the stone barrier, then I stopped. My fingertips caressed the cold metal of wrought iron. I looked to my left, and there was a gate. It was supported by wood beams overgrown with moss, and adorned with carvings of wooden orbs. I pushed it, and it creaked open. There was a stone path on the other side, and it led to another gate twenty yards away. Corruption's gate. It was the same wrought iron, but it was supported by crumbling stone pillars baring horrific statues. Beyond that gate was yet another stone path, and it led to a third gate. This was amorphous and simple, like the impression of a gate. Guilt's gate, not yet formed. I knew they would all be open to me. Corruption wanted me out. There was Arbitrus Gen, only sixty yards away. He was standing in front of Sorrow's gate, looking at his pocket watch and smoking his pipe. He couldn't see me, but I knew I could reach him. I could traverse sixty yards in as many steps, I could skip through the infinity of three realms and be safe in no time at all, but there was a reason Corruption wanted me gone. There was something she didn't want me to know. Or something she didn't want to know. I came to the realization then. Nothing I discovered here would help Angela. Everything I saw, Corruption saw. I trudged through the memories she'd buried in Guilt, and I'd awoken each one for her to see and remember anew. Then I'd gone to the surface and seen the fresh scars on her monochromatic plateau, and I'd wondered why. My revelations were her revelations, and each one I made weakened her. I turned away from the gate, and looked down at the blackened footsteps beneath my feet. They were bigger than mine, human, and they led into the fog. I took a deep breath, and walked into the white void.

Part Five: Over the Edge

JUSTINA

I didn't have the charisma to become the alpha female of a lesbian orgy. Mom certainly had that gift, but I was better suited for... well, the beta bitch role. I was just a pitiful succubus girl, scared and held prisoner in a house full of strangers, what was I to do? Oh, don't worry Sara, I'm much too frightened to try anything rash; I just can't help my urges. I'm so pathetic. You're all my enemies, and yet, I can't stop myself from looking at you with big, innocent, hopeful eyes. Will you... oh gosh, this is so embarrassing... will you be my mistresses? Yes, you can bind my hands and feet together; I want you to. Gag me? If you insist, but then you won't be able to see how long my tongue is. What was that? Why yes, Mistress, I would love to eat your ass. Let me show you how far I can slide my tongue up it. Of course, Mistress, I would love to eat your pussy, how rude of me to neglect you. Obviously, I deserve to be triply-anally-penetrated by your strap-ons, Mistresses. Gosh that sure is a tight fit, do you think I can fit one more? Holy cow, that feels good, but if you start thrusting I'll... oh no. Oh god, don't stop! Stretch me until I fucking tear! I'm just your anal fuck-toy! Rape my shithole until I fucking die! Oh my fucking GOD! Oh, oh wow. Oh golly. Look what you did to me; I'll never close again! Thank you, Mistresses. Did you say you want me to deep-throat them? Why, they were just in my ass, and that seems so unsanitary, but if you insist.... GLUG-GLUG-GLUG-GLUG. Thank you, Mistresses. Who would've known my ass tasted so delicious? You're teaching me so many new things. Please, I know I'm underserving, but please fuck my little pussy. Do I think I can fit three of you? Do I have a choice? Of course not. That's it... now you push in next to her... hold on, it's so tight! Stop. you're going to break me opeaaaaAAAAH! Fuck me like you hate me! Oh, god! Harder! Harder! HARDER! Turn me into a fucking gash! Is that all you got?! I said fuck me! Fuck me! FUUUUUCK MEEEEE! Oh, wow. Thank you, Mistresses. Yes, I am a pathetic little whore. Why yes, I love it when you spit on me. Pull my hair, scratch me, squeeze me, bite me. Everyone touch me at once, and... bingo.

"Master?" ten voices said in unison. They all looked up at me with unconditional love in their violet eyes, and I was very tempted to continue our escapades for just a few more minutes, but time was of the essence. My hands and feet were untied, and my holes were regretfully evacuated.

"Sweet Mother, you've got a mouth on you, little lady," Lucilla said into my astral gemstone.

"Tell me where you are."

"In Julia's cathedral, but you don't have time to search for me," Lucilla insisted. "Get Angela, and get to the Pit!"

WILLOWBUD

This was supposed to be my master stroke. I would disengage from Sister Julia, leave her floundering without a purpose, then I'd give her what she craved when she could no longer bear it, and let her destroy herself. Only, I didn't want to do that to her anymore. In fact, it was the last thing I wanted to do. I didn't even want to be there. The roar of the crowd was usually an exciting thing for me, but tonight, it was only intimidating. I stepped into my box, the canopy drawn upward so that all could see me, and I wanted to shrink beneath the table that held champagne for Astrid's inevitable victory. The people feared me, and they exalted their fear like a call of worship, and it was a terrible sound. Sister Julia stepped beside me, naked and beaming, and the crowd only roared louder. They had accepted this morning's apology, and now revered her with the same fear they felt for me, but with love as well. She'd played her cards right.

"Where's Jade?" I asked Sister Julia. Instead of the proud Breytan warriors guarding the box, the elves stood watch around us.

"A sickness is running through the Breytan quarters," Sister Julia yelled over the crowd. "I had them all quarantined until Brandon can help them."

"They all got sick at once?" I yelled back. Sister Julia shrugged. Well, I wasn't that fucking stupid. I formed a stone canopy over our box, leaving only a window at the front open from which to view the match.

"Is it supposed to rain?" Julia looked confusedly at me.

"Maybe," I scanned the vantage points of the Pit, "but it's always better to bring an umbrella and not need it."

"I never knew you to be a cautious woman," Sister Julia smirked at me.

"Funny how people change."

"It is," Sister Julia's emerald eyes filled my vision, her hands grasped my hips, her breath filled my nostrils, "Give it to me, Night Eyes. Just a taste."

"No," I said, pulling my face away from hers. Her hands shot to the sides of my head, pressed against my jaw, and yanked my face to hers. I breathed in as she did, not daring Corruption the chance. Sister Julia tried to coerce me with the needful press of her lips and the playful caresses of her tongue, but I did not reciprocate. I felt her grow agitated. Then I felt her grow angry. Her palms heated up against the sides of my head, and both Willowbud and Corruption seized in terror. Then Sister Julia parted with a pleasant smile on her face, and she wiped the sheen of spit she'd left on my lower lip, and sucked it off her finger. She giggled a hum around her lecherous suggestion, then she strutted to the table, and poured herself a glass of champagne. I guessed she was feeling victorious already, but for what, I couldn't imagine.

JUSTINA

"Not that way, Master," Sara whispered. "There are fifty of us over there."

"Well, where can I go then?!" I hissed. Sara and I were plastered to the side of a house, peeking over the corner as a troop of blonde elves walked past us. The mall between the temples had at least a hundred of them, and the streets that wound around the once-brothel-district were patrolled by hundreds more. From the temple to the Pit, Sara's elves were making sure no one interfered with the assassination. Angela wore the only cosmetic astral gemstones I owned, so Sara's violet eyes shined obviously from her sockets.