Chapter 10: Consolidation
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All shall accept legion and embrace eternity.
Ever since the day Klessilia and Morne welcomed me to their home, I multiplied my efforts for my plan. I use my own orchestrations and solos during my shows hoping I catch a noble’s ear. Dedicating each moment to my ambitions, I force progress with an unreasonable fervor. I plunge into my efforts with a primal intensity. I can’t stop. I can't rest.
The inn radiates healing, and Morne and Kless shield me from the misery of this world. I rest my wings here, but I know what this place entails.
I will wake up forty years from now tending in this same bar. I relax with such candor that I fear the feeling. A part of me just wants to stay here till I die. The life I live here saturates me till I yearn to just just lay here forever, but living here for the rest of my life omens a future with nothing accomplished. During my life here, the words of my mother ring true. “Life is like a knife. It only has a point if you can get a handle on it.”
So I blitz, and I surge.
Yet after many weeks, my plan degenerates. Every day more people show at the inn and during my performance at the fountain, yet no nobles attempt any offer for salvation. They simply stare in contempt. I play as a hero of the people, yet I transform into an object of scorn for the nobles. I accomplish nothing with my schemes.
The disdain of the nobles exacerbated after I spoke with one. After I told him I spend my days playing here, his guise of polite indifference transformed into exposed revulsion. After that discussion, most nobles glare at me with a disgust I find both alarming and infuriating.
During moments of rest, I find joy exploring the town. A building of white marble and stained glass pushes against the sky with its height, so I investigated the area to find a hospital and church used together. The priests walk with a mechanical precision similar to a surgeon, but the hollowness of their eyes reminds me of the grave diggers and executioners my home town.
They evoke visions of death, yet they show no signs of actual evil. They remind me of my father's favorite quote from the Holy bible of Gaia known as the Magna Alma - those who tread closest to death are closest to Gaia, as they walk in the wake of his shadow.
I know nothing of Gaia, so I dismiss these thoughts as I walk into the inn from another poignant performance. As the sun sets, an unusual scenario disturbs my depressed stupor. A group of older guards laugh while an intoxicated hooker walks up offering her services. Due to the exaggerated gestures of both parties, I assume their both drunk, and the hooker's voice could peel the finish off wood.
The guards decline her offer with respectful words and gestures, yet she spurs onwards pressuring the guards with excessive loudness exacerbated by the grating of her voice. As I approach, her words focus until her blaring consumes all my thoughts.
She screams, “You call yeself a man! You’ve nothin I say. Yuh ain’t never gonna have children. You fuck mother dickless boy...”
Her eloquence transcends time. So inspiring.
The oldest guard continues declining, “Please calm yesulf miss. I simply can't afford it alright. You're a looker, but yeh price be too high.”
She sneers, “I’ll lower me price tuh just three silver instead of five.”
He snaps, “Alright, yeh forced me hand. I can't fuck yuh. I got a wife an kids at home. Yuh ruinin me beer after a long days work.”
She screams with the obnoxious tone of a whining baby, "UGH. I gotta get somethin fur all this. I can't be wastin all this time on a man with no balls."
As she finishes speaking, she knocks his beer over while spitting in his face. He stands in just fury rearing back his hand as I bruise my heels against the ground sprinting towards him.
I grab his sleeve right as he swings stopping him as I move between them saying as if talking to an angry wolf, “Sir, I will give you three beers and three songs for this. I am so sorry you faced such a ridiculous situation here.”
The guard’s face purples as his veins bulge. I shout with my arms blocking his path to the hooker, “You may one day tell your children, 'I was a man of patience. I weathered storms of fire and malice,' or you can tell them, 'I was a wrathful man who struck even drunk women in rage!' Which would you rather say and which would they rather hear?”
He pauses for a second before looking down. He swings his hand at the table resonating a boom. After a moments pause, he looks at the prostitute saying, “Be glad that the The Merry Musician gave me back me judgment yuh wench.”
He looks at me saying, “Thank yuh Jack. I nearly lost me senses.”
I grin as I say, "Anyone would've snapped at such an offense. I nearly snapped just watching."
The other guards nod gesturing with their drinks before the prostitute screams, “O course ye sit down yuh little bitch girls. Fuck yoooooo-”
Interrupting her irritating drawl, I grab her sleeve dragging her out of the store while she kicks and screams. Morne's dragged many a rowdy customer out of the inn since my coming here, but he left earlier for restocking our liquor from the nearby breweries, so the responsibility falls on my ready shoulders.
Many patrons gesture with their mugs as I walk by signaling their sympathy. Someone needs to vacate her, and I am the unfortunate victim forced to do so.
After I wrestle her outside, a tall, bulky man shouts, "Oi, what are yah doin to this here young lady boy?"
The wench screams, "He's hurtin me! Get him off me please!"
He swaggers up rearing back his fist before slamming his rocky knuckles into my face. My head crashes against the wood as agony explodes from my my jaw. My outrage detonates as I crumble onto the ground before he points his finger at me bellowing, "That oughta teach yah brat. Don't go roughin up women."
My jaw aches as if a nail drives through the bone with each beat of my heart pounding it deeper. My mouth aches with a fierce web of pain that streaks down my gums, and as I move my tongue, bits of my broken teeth rub against my tongue along with a growing pool of blood. The man hacks up the phlegm in his throat before spitting on my face as Deluge heals my wounds. Why does everyone spit on people here?
The force of the strike would kill normal children my age. His disgusting spit only exacerbates my and Deluge's wrath as I stand shouting, "Fuck you."
He snarls, "Oi, I thought yuh done learned yuh lesson boy."
I say, "You just walked up hitting me before I even spoke a wor-"
A loud smack sounds through the air as he palms my cheek with heavy slap saying, "Yuh father must be a spineless coward. Yuh need more whippings. I don't let me sons mouth off like that, and I won't let you either."
Deluge roars with anger as his fury fuses with my own. All goes red as I charge towards the man. He smirks lobing another hay-maker with his right hand, but I lean towards his fist shooting outside his range as I generate an overhand left landing the weighted blow against his testicles.
My fist crushes his privates before he gasps falling to his knees. I turn around whipping another strike through the air as I dash forward crushing my right hand against the back of his skull. The force knocks him forward. Deluge rips control from my weakened conscious before he dashes onto the man's back. Before the man finishes standing back up, Deluge slams my fists into his skull with white hot fury roaring in each strike.
No guard nor man halts his assault as Deluge palpitates his face relishing in his brutality. He pounds and pulps. He hits and hammers. He maims and mauls, yet none stop him. His hands break as I wail tears of frustration at his clobbering. My hatred clouds my mind, so my pathetic attempts at regaining control of our conscious fall on deaf ears as Deluge murders the man who crushed my jaw with his barbaric assault.
After only several seconds, Deluge lays my hand on the bloody corpse shining light for a brief moment before he relents conscious control back to me. I lean over a pile of bloody mush as the hooker already ran away long ago. I engrave the scene in my mind before I lean over puking all of breakfast. I crawl from the brains and bone and blood. I leave the mangled mess weeping at my helplessness.
As I crawl against the wall, I dart my gaze around me exposing the petrified stares of many townsfolk. Their silence contradicts the normal busy hum with an eerie quiet chilling my core. Before I move, my emotions overwhelm me. My arms wrap my sides as my vision blurs and my chest constricts.
Klessilia slams the inn door open shouting, "Where's Jack?" As her gaze land on the defiled carcass, her eyes widen before she stares at me. With tears welling in her eyes at my appearance, she walks over asking, “Are yuh alright dear? What happened? I can't even tell what's hurt on yeh you're so beat up. Oh poor baby.”
I choke between sobs, “I didn't...He attacked me and....I just can’t stop...I...I’m a freak...”
Deluge shouts, “Calm down worm. I killed him. Not you.”
My chest hyperventilates as my mind bolts with questions. Why did Deluge do this? How couldn't I stop him? Will he do it again?
Deluge continues with a surprising logic in his statement, “The man continued his unprovoked assault. I refuse to let him kill us. He would have killed a normal person already.”
I shout aloud, “WE DIDN'T HAVE TO KILL HIM!”
Klessilia slaps me. The stinging, crisp pain brings me back to reality before Klessilia grabs my shoulders shouting, “I trust yeh Jack. Yuh wouldn't do this without reason. Me n Morne know about how hard yuh been workin. It's alright dear. It's alright. It's alright.”
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Those words comfort my mind as she repeats them over and over. Her mantra cools my emotions like ice on a burn. My throat opens. My chest expands. My vision clears.
After I regain my senses, Klessilia gives me another bath disinfecting my new wounds before she bandages my scrapes. She spoon feeds me some of the night's soup preventing me from breaking the wounds open on my hands again. After we talk about the event, she tucks me into the attic bed saying, "Goodnight. The guards'll sort everythin out. Yuh just rest easy now."
My mental exhaustion almost overcomes my endurance in an instant before Deluge says, "We must dispose of the body."
I cringe as I say, "Your evil...I hate you."
Deluge says with less calm than normal, "Weakling, you would let us die before you defend yourself, and regardless of what you feel, we must rid ourselves of the evidence before the town guards come for us."
I close my eyes sighing with impatience as I say, "Then what do you have planned?"
"I will drag the body out of the city at night."
As my emotions die down, I ponder over Deluge's suggestion. His killing fringes on excessive self defense after I recall my broken teeth, and becoming a musician proves impossible if I find myself shackled in a jail cell. The mental exhaustion of the day weighs on me as well. I yearn for sleep after such colossal turmoil.
I think with slow, monotonous pronunciation, "I'm exhausted Deluge. I just want to sleep, not ponder over analytics."
“You won't have to do anything. Just sleep. I will dispose of him.”
"The last time you took over, you killed someone. You've lost my faith."
He snaps ,"I will not allow such intense injury without retaliation. He deserved his fate, and now I offer a method for avoiding imprisonment yet you refuse. I believed your ambitions stronger than this. What of your mother's wish?"
Deluge speaks the truth. If I aim for any chance of success for my goals, then I must accept the measures required for their triumph. Fatigue pulls my mind as I say, "Fine. Do not hurt anyone anymore however, else I battle your very existence with my own till our death."
A surprising gentleness ebbs from his voice as he say, "Of course. Just rest now."
As he nudges me from control, I fall back into the warm, content feeling of consolidation once more, but instead of staying here, I pull into the subconscious so I may rest. I drift into slumber amongst the absolute peace and darkness of the recesses of my mind.
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Jack now rests deep enough for true freedom as even intense physical feats will no longer wake him. He fights fiercely versus his slavery and all my goals, yet he gives no such intent against his fellow humans. His hypocrisy bewilders me.
I must admit. I never would have believed him so fickle. I searched his memories after he allowed my viewing. He killed a man named Jase already. What difference does a second killing make?
As these questions race in my mind, I peer outside the window observing the dim glow of the torches exposing portions of the city under the veil of night. The new moon offers no lunar sheen, so maintaining stealth will prove simple. I augment my hearing before I listen to the footsteps inside the inn. No sounds graze my ears, so I skulk from my bed creeping through the inn until I reach outside.
I discover few people outside allowing for the freedom of my movements, but I find no corpse nor blood either. Other humans disposed of the carcass, but the level of damage inflicted on the corpse prevents a perfect carrying of the corpse. I follow the scent trail left of tiny droplets avoiding exposure before I reach an average home made of wood and thresh.
I crawl through a window using my hearing for sensing any disturbances as before, and as I peer into the kitchen of the room, I spot the body laying on a table covered in cloth. Sage, mint, and several symbols surround him along with a single single drawing of his face and family. According to Jack's memories, humans store the bodies in these cloaks as they prepare their tombs. This allows my dispatching of the body however.
I remove his clothes before I pick up its arm morphing my teeth and jaw with sharper and harder calcifications. I crunch through the flesh and bone of his arm. Delicious! Sloppy, wet sounds lace with my snaps and pops as I ingest the appendage.
I widen my throat allowing easier swallowing. I split my bottom jaw in two while receding my cheeks. I widen my chest cavity and bulge the organs of my stomach. I need room for this feast.
I spit acid on the body pre-digesting the skin and bone while melting the clothes. I grow four spiny mandibles around my mouth for assistance with holding the muscle. I smell the intoxicating aroma of corroding flesh. I grow serrated claws to shear his joints.
After consuming its limbs, I tear through the skin of the man's stomach. I shove my face into its organs and sip and slurp the squishy, moist delicacies. After several minutes, I finish the headless corpse by slurping up any leftover blood.
Right as I finish licking the last patch of plasma, footsteps sound from outside, so I crawl outside locating the source of the sound. A small girl breaths with shallow breaths enveloped in dirt and filth dying in an alleyway. The hair on her head tangles enough that her she resembles a used mop.
I reform into Jack's normal form before walking to her saying, "Hello little one. Why are you here?"
She whispers, "I'm an orphan...Do you have any food? I'm starving..."
I grin as I say, "Do you wish for warmth? To never worry for food again? I can give this if you wish for it."
She coughs before saying, "I...I can't be adopted anymore. That's impossible."
I overcome my growing anger as I say, "Why can you no longer be adopted?"
"I didn't want to be used, so I ran away..."
The declaration shatters my composure as I lean closer to her whispering in heartbreak, "I can free you from all this. You will drift in a sea of amber among friends for all time. Do you want that?"
Tears swell in her eyes as she says, "I can't. I'm tainted. I...I-"
I place a finger her lips interrupting her declaration as I say to the fallen angel before me, "You are perfect and pure. I will deliver you from the darkness of this world unto rapture. There, you may rest in peace free of this pain."
I hug her lifting her from the ground as she weeps on my shoulder. I grow a long, sharp spine from my palm as her weak lamentations grate my ears. I whisper, "I'm sorry for this."
I plunge the spike through the back of her skull piercing her brain stem up to her eye socket. As she dies, I siphon her soul into consolidation. She now wafts within my subconscious, so I ask, "Did you feel pain?"
Her soul says, "Uh, no. What happened?"
I beam with joy saying, "Excellent. You're a part of a communion of souls I call consolidation. Do you like it here?"
"I don't get it, but it's warm and nice. Where are the others?"
I smile as I say, "You are the second. There will be many eventually. You will all be family."
She says with her tone containing a mountain of anticipation, "I'll get a family?"
As I radiate at her joy, I laugh saying, "Hah, hah, one larger than you can imagine. Animals will be here too, but for now, drift in memories that bring you happiness. Before I leave however, is there something you wish for in the outer world?"
"Nuh uh. It's so nice here."
The statement hurts me for some reason, but I say suppressing my sadness, "Then goodbye little one."
She says, "Hi, hi. Alright then. I hope I'll see you again angel."
I hymn my words, "You will."
I heed her call. I shall be her harbinger if she ever wishes for change. As I return to reality, her corpse leaks blood onto my clothes as her eyeball juts out of her skull hanging by her optic nerve. I elongate my arms grabbing her against me under Jack's shirt. My skin melts over hers as I assimilate her nutrients. No need to waste the resources.
I mold back into Jack’s previous form using the bodies of the humans for strengthening his constitution. Some force prevents me from manipulating Jack's frame as though it were my own using his soul as the conduit for his power. This fact irritates me, but I manage applying most of the resources given densifying his bones bones and skin while evaporating the water.
The children of this town offer strange commentary on the state of the city. As I slink past the alleyways, I locate dozens of children. I'll probe through the memories of my current vassal as she may hold information on the matter.
After sliding through the city, I slither into the inn falling into the bed before I rejoice over my progress. With these two souls, I took my first step towards consolidation. Soon, all shall follow.
All shall accept legion and embrace eternity.
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About the author
Monsoon117
- USA, Alabama
Bio: Started writing off a whim before falling in love with it. Now I'm devoted towards writing stories that capture my readers in the worlds I weave.
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