Dourdan partner

Relationships. Gary Dourdan was previously married to Roshumba Williams (1992 - 1994).. Gary Dourdan has been in relationships with Anne Greene (2007), Shakara Ledard (2004 - 2005), Lisa Snowdon (2002 - 2003), Cynthia Hadden (2001), Jorja Fox (2001 - 2002), Jennifer Sutton (1995 - 2000) and Nicole Vail Cannizzaro.. About. Gary Dourdan is a 53 year old American Actor. Gary Dourdan As Warrick Brown – Then. One of the most popular characters on the show, ... Angus “Mac” MacGyver’s partner. Despite receiving negative reviews from critics, the crime show has a pretty decent following, meaning that a second season is on the horizon. However, Eads’ personal life took a turn for the worse in 2015 when he ... On 11-12-1966 Gary Dourdan (nickname: Gary) was born in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, United States. He made his 0.5 million dollar fortune with CSI, Perfect Stranger, Alien: Resurrection. The actor is currently single, his starsign is Sagittarius and he is now 53 years of age. SAP in Dourdan Dourdan's Top Rated SAP Professionals. BE ONE SOLUTIONS FRANCE SAS BEAUREPAIRE (SAP Practice) Dourdan, Île-de-France, 91410 Jorja Fox had an affair with Gary Dourdan in 2001; this couple dated for two years and broke up in 2002. She also had an affair with Lelah Foster and Suzanne Mara. Suzanne is an actress and Lelah Foster is an actor. After dating with Suzanne, Jorja was considered a bisexual. Gary Dourdan. As Warrick Brown, Gary Dourdan was similarly on CSI from the beginning. And similar to William Petersen, he left the series in season nine. Unlike his co-stars, however, Dourdan didn ... Shakara Ledard and Gary Dourdan - Partners, Partnership Free Horoscopes charts, calculations Birth Natal Chart Online Calculator Ascendant, Rising Sign Calculator Astro Portrait: Sun, Moon, ASC Personal Daily Horoscope Transits, Progressions, Solar Return Synastry, Composite, Davison Chart Traditional Astrology Calculator Sidereal Astrology ... La vitrine pro est éditée par PEUGEOT TRUJAS DOURDAN Représentant: Monsieur Xavier TRUJAS Raison sociale: TRUJAS SAS Capital: 2918800 Siège social: 4 RUE ANTOINE LRT DE LAVOISIER 91410 DOURDAN Email: [email protected] Tél: 0160829191 Numéro registre: 493445878 Numéro de TVA: FR82493445878 Création et hébergement : Car & Boat Media - 22 rue Joubert 75009 Paris - 01 77 ... Relationships. Jorja Fox has been in relationships with Gary Dourdan (2001 - 2002) and Suzanne Mara.. About. Jorja Fox is a 52 year old American Actress. Born Jorja-An Fox on 7th July, 1968 in New York City, she is famous for Sara Sidel on CSI: Crime Scene Investigation in a career that spans 1989–present. The $500K net worth bearing actor Gary Dourdan earns a decent salary from his appearance in movies and TV shows. He was married to his wife but are now separated. He is not in any dating affair or romantic relationship. Read more to know all about Gary Dourdan's net worth, married life, wife, salary, and more.

Untitled Raven Miller Project ch1

2019.12.26 02:16 dourdan Untitled Raven Miller Project ch1

Yes, I posted this to no sleep and got removed for "non-horror" but this is ch 1 of a series.
I don't even have a real title....
_____________________________
My small hands stroked the blood-stained denim jeans. “And they say girls are the weaker gender.” That sentiment always made me laugh. after all, I came from a long line of powerful women. Some of whom would have been drooling over the sight that lay before me.
My partner laughed. “And on Wednesdays we wear pink!”
“You know that movie?” I asked as I pulled my ceremonial bracelets over my manicured hands,
“All good lesbians know Mean Girls.”
“And some of us were born from them,” I smiled at my own joke. And some of us murder them and steal their powers. “Go check in on Lola. Babe, I don’t need her waking up to this.”
“She’s almost three. Trust me, she’s woken up to worse.”
“I know,” I said, as I tied my hair back. “She always wants to play in the blood. Last time I almost lost a finger.”
Annie chucked and left me to my work.
Bobby Reyes was dying. That kind of thing tended to happen when your girlfriend cuts off your junk and leaves your naked body on the side of the North Carolina highway. At least according to the police report.
“How you doin’? You still there?” I shinned a penlight in his eyes.
His dark eyes twitched, followed by a blink. He was alive. Hopefully, with my help, this would be a good thing.
“Damn, not even livestock deserve this.” I’d seen many discarded lovers of witches; beautiful men and women, thrown away like garbage. But most witches have the decency to finish them off by devouring the heart.
My partner was leaning against the car, our squirming toddler in one arm and her police scanner in the other. “We need to get him the fuck out of here before the cops come.”
“Why? You hear something?”
“Not yet, but we can’t risk it,” Annie muttered, shifting Lola in her arms.
I groaned, clearly, she wanted help with the baby.
“Hurry up, Raven. Is he stable enough to move or not?”
“No, he’s not,” I replied. “I’m working as fast as I can.” Annie was the older one, the wannabe super-soldier who never enlisted. But I was the one with powers. “Roberto Gian Reyes,” I said as I placed my hands on his chest feeling for a nice blood open wound. “You’re about to make a deal with the devil. But don’t worry, I’ll make it worth your time.”
I found the spot, just below his clavicle where a shard of bone was protruding through his skin. using the sharp broken bone as my cutting took, I made an incision across my palm, along my lifeline. Whenever he flinched I held him close, forcing the bone through my hand, until at last I was impaled to the point of being immobile. “I give you my hand, in exchange for your life.”
If I was a bad witch I would just bleed one finger and once the spell was complete I’d be down one finger, but having gained slave. I kind of like having two complete hands.
I watched carefully as his skin regrew and his body healed. Bobby was tall, with light skin and long dark brown hair. Yeah, his hair had been cut and or burned off. How anyone could disfigure such a beautiful human was just criminal. I carefully moved him to our trailer, with my hand pinned to his exposed bone. Lucky for me, the wheels on the bottom of my handmade gurney made the process a lot easier. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”
Lola giggled, “Fuck!”
Annie rolled her eyes. Holding Lola with one arm she jumped into the driver’s seat and took off before I even fully closed the door.
I could hear Lola laugh with delight as Annie made a sharp turn, on to the highway. “I can hold the baby while you drive,” I said as I made myself comfortable. If I broke off the bone in my hand, the spell would fail and with the extent of his injuries, Bobby would likely die in my arms.
“Maybe when you’re finished. Lola’s at that stage where she puts everything in her mouth.”“Fair enough.” I started chest compressions. to the untrained eye, it looked like I was performing CPR. And in a way I was. “Za—fi—an—a! By the goddess, the primal queen. Angelina, Scarlett, Miley, Elizabeth…” This was the hard part. I had to name famous, powerful women. Luckily it seemed to work with only first names (a fact that I learned through trial and error.) Each name invoked the power of all former queens. The trick was to use as few names as possible for the strongest dose of magic. I could only wonder what kind of power my name carried.
I watch my blood flow into Bobby’s chest, sharing my magic, my strength. To do this for a male was unheard of. But I’ve done it successfully six times.
Bobby had lost consciousness due to the graphic nature of his injuries, but once he borrowed enough of my power he awoke with a blood-curdling scream. He started to speak in what I assumed was Spanish or maybe French.
“Hey!” I gripped his shoulder with my newly freed hand. “You’re safe.”
He started to convulse. I knew this was going to be a bad one. I knew he’d been missing body parts, but there were also noticeable signs of organ damage.
“You’re okay, you’re going to be ok.” I sucked in my stomach, hoping against hope that the mechanics of the spell would draw from my fat as opposed to cells that I actually needed.
I could feel his chest rise and fall as breath filled his lungs. And then he screamed again, followed by more stammering in a language that I did not understand.
By the tone of his accent, I was leaning more towards French. I turned to Annie. “In your research; did you find anything about Bobby Reyes being French-Canadian?”
“I think so. Um, polly vou English? It’s the only phrase I know.”
Lola laughed at Annie’s french-southern drawl.
The laughter seemed to calm Bobby enough for him to realize he was in fact safe. “W-Who are you? What am I doing here?”
“The name’s Raven, my partner and I are trackers we follow-”
Suddenly our trailer screeched to a halt.
Annie chuckled. “Well, look what we have here.”
I stood up to take a peek out of the window. I saw a red, late nineties model ford truck. At least I thought it was red. As the vehicle came closer, it seemed to shimmer with a holographic glow. “Come out come out whoever you are,” I muttered playfully.
Two men emerged. The first was a middle-aged man with dark blonde hair. He had the muscular build of a former soldier and carried what looked like a customized rifle. “Are we really going to play this game, little girl?”
“Who you calling a little girl?” I knew needed to find a weapon of my own. I had no guns, but a gun wouldn’t have helped me: you can’t kill what’s already dead.
The second man was a typical surfer-flower child with sun-kissed skin the color of caramel and long black hair streaked with metallic rainbow colors.”Step out of the car Raven.”
“Why?” I replied playfully. “Does the power of Christ compel me?”
Annie laughed. “More like the power of Rainbow Brite or my little pony, right Lola?” She expertly pulled over the trailer while holding the baby. Having parked the car she went to the back. “Well, Raven, babe, what do you want to do?”
“The only thing we can do,” I muttered, already gearing up for a fight. I selected a knife, recited an incantation, causing it to glow with a neon blue hue. I gripped the blade, coating it with a drop of my blood. “This is enough of my power to sustain you. If shit hits the fan want, no I need you to drive.”
Annie shook her head with a look of disbelief. “I’m not leaving you to fight two men.”
“You know they’re not human,” I said with a sigh. Worst-case scenario; it would be easy for them to take Annie and Lola hostage. At that moment, a chill went down my spine: why did the two strangers suddenly go silent? “What do you fuckers want?” I shouted through the closed door. I needed to make a weapon, something that could take down an immortal creature. No, I needed a shield.
“Surrender the child,” said the soldier.
The hippy sighed, his tone far less aggressive. “You may be a demon queen but you know taking trophies is forbidden.”
What the fuck, you sideshow freaks? “She’s not a trophy, she’s my daughter!” I glanced at Annie, desperate to hide my growing panic. “You have to go.”
“No fucking way. Let me get back to the driver’s seat and we’ll floor it out of here.”
“They’re not cops, they’re angels,” I nearly cried as I said with words out loud. “This is not going to end well if we try to run.”
“What about Bobby Reyes?” Annie asked. “What am I going to do with him?”
“He’ll be fine,” I quickly turned to Bobby, hoping my perception of him was correct.
He appeared concerned, but not for himself. If he was truly a coward he could have surrendered himself to the angels.
“Bobby this is Annie, my partner in crime, my lover in life, and the co-mother of my child. We’re the good guys. But you’ll just have to trust me on that.”
I gathered my tools. First, my father’s rosary: a beaded necklace with a sharpened crucifix. Next was my mother’s pentagram: a simple pendant made of bronze. And my crown of thorns (in truth it was more of a hairclip of thorns.) In my mind, I had a plan. If everything went as planned, these angels were going down. I threw open the door and exited the vehicle with my hands above my head as if surrendering to the police. “I’m open to negotiations.”
The soldier laughed, cupping his hand over his face to hide the fact that he found something about this situation to be hilarious.
“Well?” I asked, with doll-eyes and a sexy pout. I expected one of them to start preaching to me about how killing my lover’s ex-wife and stealing her baby. but that’s not what happened.
The soldier took a breath, turned away. Then in one swift motion, he managed to come up punch me in the stomach and grab me by the waist. Before I knew what was happening he threw my body in the bed of their truck.
“Ow! fuck!” My face slammed into the cold mental. The first point goes to the angels. I got up and used the first of my weapons. I laced the rosary through my fingers. A shot of energy rippled through my body. My skin glowed the color of the blue moon, as I leaped like a pole vaulter, landing on the soldier’s back.
But as I did, he grabbed the rosary crushing it in his hand. The beads were pulverized. and crucifix snapped in half before vanishing.
That- was- not- supposed- to- be- possible. And something was still in my hand.
“Adam!” the hippy said with a disapproving glare. “Sorry, Sweetheart he’s new.” The hippy waved his hand, and a length of rope materialized. it looked remarkably like the fiction whip Wonder woman used. It sparkled with a mesmerizing glow, as it clenched around my neck.
The soldier whispered in my ear. “Tell them. You know you want to.”
“Annie drive!” I screamed. Why did I scream? I’d never scream!
The hippy snickered. “Behold The power of the lasso of truth.”
My wife had been holding the weapon I’d given her. She could either use it to try and save me or give the trailer enough of a jumpstart that she’d be miles away by the time angels knew what was happening. But I wouldn’t get to find out.
I awoke tied up, in the bed of the truck. Fuck, this can’t any worse.
And it was moving. FUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCKKKKK!
Keeping my eyes closed, I tried to meditate. Instead, I had a flashback. I was seventeen, caring for my father as he lay dying. The illness had taken so much, but it could not take his faith. joined him in daily prayer, even on days when he was so sick, breathing was painful.
“Daddy?” I was just a kid, he was all I had.
“Raven?” his frail hand reached for me.
“Yeah, it’s me. I’m here. I love you so much. God, I miss you.”
“I missed you too.” His lips cracked with a strained smile as tears filled his eyes. “I-I think I had an accident.”
The blankets were soaked with blood and feces. on the nightstand were a container of pills, an unopened bottle of vodka, and pistol. During his life, my father never drank and he sure as hell didn’t own a gun. “Do you want me to give you something for the pain?” I couldn’t do it, even if I wanted to: even if this wasn’t a dream.
My father shook his head. “All I ever needed was you.”
I rested my head on his chest, I could feel the bones of his ribs. “Daddy? I need you. Where are you?”
My father’s thin, frail hand reached out to me with more strength then I’d seen in a long time. “Take me to the river, and put my heart away.”
What?
“The flares of the dying. We sparkle. We glow.”
I awoke with a shriek as the tacky angel vehicle went over a massive bump, causing my head to smack against the truck bed.
“Scream all you want,” the soldier said. “We’re on the backroads.”
Oh no. “I don’t need to scream, they’ll come for me! I have hundreds of followers, they’ll find me!”
“Will they?” asked the hippy from behind the wheel.
“Only if they’re tracking you,” the soldier asked, playing with something on his hand. “With these glorified keychains?”
I heart went through a barrage of emotions; from anger to sadness, to full-on panic. ”Please give it back.” My request was for one item and one item only.
“Your father’s rosary?” asked the hippy. “You can have it back once we make camp.”
“Camp?”
“We have a long way to go,” he replied calmly.
We drove for what felt like an eternity, as I rested on my back, looking up at the starry night sky. Strangely enough, I wasn’t the least bit tired.
When we finally stopped, the soldier picked me up, throwing me over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. “If I untie you, can we trust you not to run?”
“Run where?” I asked with a scowl. Looking around I could see we were on a desolate beach. under the darkness of night, the calm water looked more like a lake, than an ocean. But I had no idea where I was.
The hippy chuckled as he took down an unassembled tent.” she has a point, Adam.”
The soldier, apparently named Adam, power slammed me face-first onto the sand. With my body too stunned to attempt to stand, I felt the ropes being cut with a large serrated hunting knife. When I was free, my whole body felt numb. I literally had to force myself to breathe.
“Better, Darlin?” Adam asked in a clear southern accent.
The man always had a noticeable accent but it was only when he was being sarcastic did it shine through. And the fact that his voice reminded me of my father: that annoyed the crap out of me. “Just give me my property, you fucking white-trash hick.”
Adam only laughed. He looked at my pentagram, twirling it between his fingers. “Nah, I think I should do the world a favor and smash this. Oh yeah I forgot, you wanted the rosary. A strange request for a witch.”
The hippy grabbed the rosary from Adam and handed it to me. “To be fair we’ve not given you proper introductions. I’m Leo Riveria, and this is my partner Adam Severgine.”
“Let me guess, you’re former military?” I asked Adam.
“Master sergeant, us army,” the masculine blond replied. He went back to the truck and started to pull down a bundle of logs that had been tied with a very familiar-looking rope.
I watched as he started to build a campfire, arranging the pristine wood into a circle before setting it ablaze with a neon blue powder.
“Are you hungry?” Leo asked me in a cheery, friendly tone. He knelt down by my side, like a teacher speaking to a small child. “We have plenty of human snacks.”
“Human snacks?”
“Hotdogs, marshmallows, and other stuff that cooks over a fire. Sounds fun, right?”
“Right.” After all, I didn’t have much of a choice.
Leo stood up and went to the truck, returning with a cooler of snacks. But not before Adam sat beside me and proceeded to take out a cigarette.
“I hear your old man died of cancer?” Adam asked as he lit up. His voice was rough, uncaring and somewhat smug.
“My father suffered from colon-rectal cancer because my mother was physically and sexually abusing him. He died when her coven tore him apart like a roast turkey, devouring everything he was. except this.” I clenched the rosary. “this was always mine.”
Adam took a long hit, blowing a pull of smoke that clearly smelled like marijuana.
I shook my head in disapproval. “Do you have kids?”
“Yeah.”
“Were they by your side when you passed?” I asked, in an effort to make him feel just as uncomfortable.
“My daughter was,” he said, taking another long hit off the joint. “My eldest daughter,” he paused for a moment and coughed. “I-it’s complicated.”
“I can do the math,” I said with an unintentional smile. “Your wife was pregnant when you died.” Sucks to be you, Sergeant Ass-hat.
Adam put out his joint in the sand. “I think it’s Leo’s turn to entertain you.”
I watched as he climbed back into the passenger seat of the truck, pulling a previously unseen blanket over his body. I had a feeling he wasn’t sleeping, he was just tired of hearing the truth. “Serves you right.”
Leo took a seat beside me. “You’ll have to forgive my partner, he’s-”
“I don’t have to do shit,” I said, as I popped a marshmallow into my mouth. “With all due respect.”
“I get it.” Leo calmly handed me a skewer. “But you need to know the full story.”
“You have my attention.”
“Adam died from a brain bleed, following a lifetime of addiction.”
“And you?” I asked as I assembled my marshmallows for the fire.
“I was a demon hunter; a paranormal special agent of the lord. I offered up my life to save the soul and humanity of someone I loved.”
“Not Adam, I assume?
“This was before Adam. just like how you met the love of your life, before Annie:the real reason you took Lola.”
“Like you said, Lola was a trophy. My goal was to murder her whore of a mother.” I roasted my marshmallows until they turned a crispy brown. Much to my surprise, they were still cool enough to grab with my bare hands. “So, when you said Adam died of a ‘brain bleed’, did you mean a bullet?” It makes sense that someone like Adam would be suicidal.
“No.”
“No?” I asked with a mouth full of sugary sticky sweetness.
Leo stroked his hand through the fire, creating swirls of neon blue and lavender purple. “Adam was sick for a long time, but he would have survived had he not struck a deal.”
“A deal, for what?”
“To save his daughter’s life.”
“Oh.” I glanced back at the truck and the man sleeping within. He looked peaceful, but I was not ready to let my guard down.
“That’s why he can’t physically harm you.”
“What about when he dropped me on my head?”
“Are you experiencing any pain or dizziness?”
“Well, not at the moment. But what if I wake up tomorrow with a massive bruise on my face?”
“Then you would have debunked my theory.”
“Your theory?”
“Adam Severgine, much like your father is a descendant of the original Adam.”
“As in Adam and Eve? I thought all of humanity was descended from Adam and Eve.”
“Few know the full truth. When God banished the first couple from the garden of Eden, they produced two sons.”
“Cain and Abel, right?”
“But when Eve was pregnant with their second child, Adam carried on an affair that produced a daughter. She was the only one by his side when he died of illness.”
On his deathbed he talked about his life of regrets, each painful memory compounding his sorrow and pain.
He offered her his heart if she could allow him a chance to be reborn”
the story sounded eerily familiar.
“After his death, she cut out his heart. For each chamber she consumed, she gave birth to a child that was a genetic clone of her father.”
“So technically not incest?
Level with me, Leo, what am I doing here? I mean, yes, I watched my father die. But I’m sure plenty of other people have been through the same.
You’re right about that.” he said as he toasted a marshmallow in his bare hand. “What do you know about Annie?
“I know enough.” I knew Annie lost her parents at a very young age, and that her story was even more fucked up than my own.
Mississippi Burning (1971)
“You can feel Bobby Reyes, can’t you? His blood flows through your veins.”
“I have a spiritual connection with all of my followers.”
But Bobby’s different: you can see through his eyes.
“Bullshit.”
“Believe what you like, do as you will.” Leo reclined in the sand, adjusting his hair before resting his hands behind his head.
“Where do I sleep?” I asked.
Leo closed his sparkling green eyes. “The answer will come to you in time.”
I knew what he meant. He expected me to go exploring or maybe even rummage through their belongings. But at that moment all I wanted to do was sit by the warmth of the fire. Could I really see through Bobby’s eyes? What would that even feel like? I blinked hard, trying to focus on Bobby’s face. I had only seen him for a few hours but there were parts I could remember. His eyes were dark. Were they brown? No, they were green, a deep forest green. And his hair, it was long and wavy (kind of like Leo’s hair, except without the random streaks of color.)
“Take me to the river drop me in the water,” I quietly hummed the tune from memory. I didn’t even know the real name of that song, only the part that the famous rubber fish toy used to sing. Looking out at the clear, calm water, my mind body and soul felt at peace. That was where I needed to be.
That was where I needed to sleep. Fully clothed I took one step then another until I was waist-deep. The hand that held the rosary felt wet but before I could get a closer look, a glow took over my vision.
I was sitting on a bed in a hotel room. I could hear the television, it was on some kind of infomercial.
Lola giggled with delight at the sight of the elderly woman making sample dishes.
“Lola?” the sound that came out was not my voice.
The bathroom door opened. Annie appeared wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants (her typical sleepwear.) “Hey, Bobby, you alright there?”
I looked down at my hands. “Yeah,” I said in his soft, french accent. “Je vais bien.” I’m good. “Merci.” Thank you.
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2019.12.26 02:12 dourdan Untitled Raven Miller Project

My small hands stroked the blood-stained denim jeans. “And they say girls are the weaker gender.” That sentiment always made me laugh. after all, I came from a long line of powerful women. Some of whom would have been drooling over the sight that lay before me.
My partner laughed. “And on Wednesdays we wear pink!”
“You know that movie?” I asked as I pulled my ceremonial bracelets over my manicured hands,
“All good lesbians know Mean Girls.”
“And some of us were born from them,” I smiled at my own joke. And some of us murder them and steal their powers. “Go check in on Lola. Babe, I don’t need her waking up to this.”
“She’s almost three. Trust me, she’s woken up to worse.”
“I know,” I said, as I tied my hair back. “She always wants to play in the blood. Last time I almost lost a finger.”
Annie chucked and left me to my work.
Bobby Reyes was dying. That kind of thing tended to happen when your girlfriend cuts off your junk and leaves your naked body on the side of the North Carolina highway. At least according to the police report.
“How you doin’? You still there?” I shinned a penlight in his eyes.
His dark eyes twitched, followed by a blink. He was alive. Hopefully, with my help, this would be a good thing.
“Damn, not even livestock deserve this.” I’d seen many discarded lovers of witches; beautiful men and women, thrown away like garbage. But most witches have the decency to finish them off by devouring the heart.
My partner was leaning against the car, our squirming toddler in one arm and her police scanner in the other. “We need to get him the fuck out of here before the cops come.”
“Why? You hear something?”
“Not yet, but we can’t risk it,” Annie muttered, shifting Lola in her arms.
I groaned, clearly, she wanted help with the baby.
“Hurry up, Raven. Is he stable enough to move or not?”
“No, he’s not,” I replied. “I’m working as fast as I can.” Annie was the older one, the wannabe super-soldier who never enlisted. But I was the one with powers. “Roberto Gian Reyes,” I said as I placed my hands on his chest feeling for a nice blood open wound. “You’re about to make a deal with the devil. But don’t worry, I’ll make it worth your time.”
I found the spot, just below his clavicle where a shard of bone was protruding through his skin. using the sharp broken bone as my cutting took, I made an incision across my palm, along my lifeline. Whenever he flinched I held him close, forcing the bone through my hand, until at last I was impaled to the point of being immobile. “I give you my hand, in exchange for your life.”
If I was a bad witch I would just bleed one finger and once the spell was complete I’d be down one finger, but having gained slave. I kind of like having two complete hands.
I watched carefully as his skin regrew and his body healed. Bobby was tall, with light skin and long dark brown hair. Yeah, his hair had been cut and or burned off. How anyone could disfigure such a beautiful human was just criminal. I carefully moved him to our trailer, with my hand pinned to his exposed bone. Lucky for me, the wheels on the bottom of my handmade gurney made the process a lot easier. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”
Lola giggled, “Fuck!”
Annie rolled her eyes. Holding Lola with one arm she jumped into the driver’s seat and took off before I even fully closed the door.
I could hear Lola laugh with delight as Annie made a sharp turn, on to the highway. “I can hold the baby while you drive,” I said as I made myself comfortable. If I broke off the bone in my hand, the spell would fail and with the extent of his injuries, Bobby would likely die in my arms.
“Maybe when you’re finished. Lola’s at that stage where she puts everything in her mouth.”“Fair enough.” I started chest compressions. to the untrained eye, it looked like I was performing CPR. And in a way I was. “Za—fi—an—a! By the goddess, the primal queen. Angelina, Scarlett, Miley, Elizabeth…” This was the hard part. I had to name famous, powerful women. Luckily it seemed to work with only first names (a fact that I learned through trial and error.) Each name invoked the power of all former queens. The trick was to use as few names as possible for the strongest dose of magic. I could only wonder what kind of power my name carried.
I watch my blood flow into Bobby’s chest, sharing my magic, my strength. To do this for a male was unheard of. But I’ve done it successfully six times.
Bobby had lost consciousness due to the graphic nature of his injuries, but once he borrowed enough of my power he awoke with a blood-curdling scream. He started to speak in what I assumed was Spanish or maybe French.
“Hey!” I gripped his shoulder with my newly freed hand. “You’re safe.”
He started to convulse. I knew this was going to be a bad one. I knew he’d been missing body parts, but there were also noticeable signs of organ damage.
“You’re okay, you’re going to be ok.” I sucked in my stomach, hoping against hope that the mechanics of the spell would draw from my fat as opposed to cells that I actually needed.
I could feel his chest rise and fall as breath filled his lungs. And then he screamed again, followed by more stammering in a language that I did not understand.
By the tone of his accent, I was leaning more towards French. I turned to Annie. “In your research; did you find anything about Bobby Reyes being French-Canadian?”
“I think so. Um, polly vou English? It’s the only phrase I know.”
Lola laughed at Annie’s french-southern drawl.
The laughter seemed to calm Bobby enough for him to realize he was in fact safe. “W-Who are you? What am I doing here?”
“The name’s Raven, my partner and I are trackers we follow-”
Suddenly our trailer screeched to a halt.
Annie chuckled. “Well, look what we have here.”
I stood up to take a peek out of the window. I saw a red, late nineties model ford truck. At least I thought it was red. As the vehicle came closer, it seemed to shimmer with a holographic glow. “Come out come out whoever you are,” I muttered playfully.
Two men emerged. The first was a middle-aged man with dark blonde hair. He had the muscular build of a former soldier and carried what looked like a customized rifle. “Are we really going to play this game, little girl?”
“Who you calling a little girl?” I knew needed to find a weapon of my own. I had no guns, but a gun wouldn’t have helped me: you can’t kill what’s already dead.
The second man was a typical surfer-flower child with sun-kissed skin the color of caramel and long black hair streaked with metallic rainbow colors.”Step out of the car Raven.”
“Why?” I replied playfully. “Does the power of Christ compel me?”
Annie laughed. “More like the power of Rainbow Brite or my little pony, right Lola?” She expertly pulled over the trailer while holding the baby. Having parked the car she went to the back. “Well, Raven, babe, what do you want to do?”
“The only thing we can do,” I muttered, already gearing up for a fight. I selected a knife, recited an incantation, causing it to glow with a neon blue hue. I gripped the blade, coating it with a drop of my blood. “This is enough of my power to sustain you. If shit hits the fan want, no I need you to drive.”
Annie shook her head with a look of disbelief. “I’m not leaving you to fight two men.”
“You know they’re not human,” I said with a sigh. Worst-case scenario; it would be easy for them to take Annie and Lola hostage. At that moment, a chill went down my spine: why did the two strangers suddenly go silent? “What do you fuckers want?” I shouted through the closed door. I needed to make a weapon, something that could take down an immortal creature. No, I needed a shield.
“Surrender the child,” said the soldier.
The hippy sighed, his tone far less aggressive. “You may be a demon queen but you know taking trophies is forbidden.”
What the fuck, you sideshow freaks? “She’s not a trophy, she’s my daughter!” I glanced at Annie, desperate to hide my growing panic. “You have to go.”
“No fucking way. Let me get back to the driver’s seat and we’ll floor it out of here.”
“They’re not cops, they’re angels,” I nearly cried as I said with words out loud. “This is not going to end well if we try to run.”
“What about Bobby Reyes?” Annie asked. “What am I going to do with him?”
“He’ll be fine,” I quickly turned to Bobby, hoping my perception of him was correct.
He appeared concerned, but not for himself. If he was truly a coward he could have surrendered himself to the angels.
“Bobby this is Annie, my partner in crime, my lover in life, and the co-mother of my child. We’re the good guys. But you’ll just have to trust me on that.”
I gathered my tools. First, my father’s rosary: a beaded necklace with a sharpened crucifix. Next was my mother’s pentagram: a simple pendant made of bronze. And my crown of thorns (in truth it was more of a hairclip of thorns.) In my mind, I had a plan. If everything went as planned, these angels were going down. I threw open the door and exited the vehicle with my hands above my head as if surrendering to the police. “I’m open to negotiations.”
The soldier laughed, cupping his hand over his face to hide the fact that he found something about this situation to be hilarious.
“Well?” I asked, with doll-eyes and a sexy pout. I expected one of them to start preaching to me about how killing my lover’s ex-wife and stealing her baby. but that’s not what happened.
The soldier took a breath, turned away. Then in one swift motion, he managed to come up punch me in the stomach and grab me by the waist. Before I knew what was happening he threw my body in the bed of their truck.
“Ow! fuck!” My face slammed into the cold mental. The first point goes to the angels. I got up and used the first of my weapons. I laced the rosary through my fingers. A shot of energy rippled through my body. My skin glowed the color of the blue moon, as I leaped like a pole vaulter, landing on the soldier’s back.
But as I did, he grabbed the rosary crushing it in his hand. The beads were pulverized. and crucifix snapped in half before vanishing.
That- was- not- supposed- to- be- possible. And something was still in my hand.
“Adam!” the hippy said with a disapproving glare. “Sorry, Sweetheart he’s new.” The hippy waved his hand, and a length of rope materialized. it looked remarkably like the fiction whip Wonder woman used. It sparkled with a mesmerizing glow, as it clenched around my neck.
The soldier whispered in my ear. “Tell them. You know you want to.”
“Annie drive!” I screamed. Why did I scream? I’d never scream!
The hippy snickered. “Behold The power of the lasso of truth.”
My wife had been holding the weapon I’d given her. She could either use it to try and save me or give the trailer enough of a jumpstart that she’d be miles away by the time angels knew what was happening. But I wouldn’t get to find out.
I awoke tied up, in the bed of the truck. Fuck, this can’t any worse.
And it was moving. FUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCKKKKK!
Keeping my eyes closed, I tried to meditate. Instead, I had a flashback. I was seventeen, caring for my father as he lay dying. The illness had taken so much, but it could not take his faith. joined him in daily prayer, even on days when he was so sick, breathing was painful.
“Daddy?” I was just a kid, he was all I had.
“Raven?” his frail hand reached for me.
“Yeah, it’s me. I’m here. I love you so much. God, I miss you.”
“I missed you too.” His lips cracked with a strained smile as tears filled his eyes. “I-I think I had an accident.”
The blankets were soaked with blood and feces. on the nightstand were a container of pills, an unopened bottle of vodka, and pistol. During his life, my father never drank and he sure as hell didn’t own a gun. “Do you want me to give you something for the pain?” I couldn’t do it, even if I wanted to: even if this wasn’t a dream.
My father shook his head. “All I ever needed was you.”
I rested my head on his chest, I could feel the bones of his ribs. “Daddy? I need you. Where are you?”
My father’s thin, frail hand reached out to me with more strength then I’d seen in a long time. “Take me to the river, and put my heart away.”
What?
“The flares of the dying. We sparkle. We glow.”
I awoke with a shriek as the tacky angel vehicle went over a massive bump, causing my head to smack against the truck bed.
“Scream all you want,” the soldier said. “We’re on the backroads.”
Oh no. “I don’t need to scream, they’ll come for me! I have hundreds of followers, they’ll find me!”
“Will they?” asked the hippy from behind the wheel.
“Only if they’re tracking you,” the soldier asked, playing with something on his hand. “With these glorified keychains?”
I heart went through a barrage of emotions; from anger to sadness, to full-on panic. ”Please give it back.” My request was for one item and one item only.
“Your father’s rosary?” asked the hippy. “You can have it back once we make camp.”
“Camp?”
“We have a long way to go,” he replied calmly.
We drove for what felt like an eternity, as I rested on my back, looking up at the starry night sky. Strangely enough, I wasn’t the least bit tired.
When we finally stopped, the soldier picked me up, throwing me over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. “If I untie you, can we trust you not to run?”
“Run where?” I asked with a scowl. Looking around I could see we were on a desolate beach. under the darkness of night, the calm water looked more like a lake, than an ocean. But I had no idea where I was.
The hippy chuckled as he took down an unassembled tent.” she has a point, Adam.”
The soldier, apparently named Adam, power slammed me face-first onto the sand. With my body too stunned to attempt to stand, I felt the ropes being cut with a large serrated hunting knife. When I was free, my whole body felt numb. I literally had to force myself to breathe.
“Better, Darlin?” Adam asked in a clear southern accent.
The man always had a noticeable accent but it was only when he was being sarcastic did it shine through. And the fact that his voice reminded me of my father: that annoyed the crap out of me. “Just give me my property, you fucking white-trash hick.”
Adam only laughed. He looked at my pentagram, twirling it between his fingers. “Nah, I think I should do the world a favor and smash this. Oh yeah I forgot, you wanted the rosary. A strange request for a witch.”
The hippy grabbed the rosary from Adam and handed it to me. “To be fair we’ve not given you proper introductions. I’m Leo Riveria, and this is my partner Adam Severgine.”
“Let me guess, you’re former military?” I asked Adam.
“Master sergeant, us army,” the masculine blond replied. He went back to the truck and started to pull down a bundle of logs that had been tied with a very familiar-looking rope.
I watched as he started to build a campfire, arranging the pristine wood into a circle before setting it ablaze with a neon blue powder.
“Are you hungry?” Leo asked me in a cheery, friendly tone. He knelt down by my side, like a teacher speaking to a small child. “We have plenty of human snacks.”
“Human snacks?”
“Hotdogs, marshmallows, and other stuff that cooks over a fire. Sounds fun, right?”
“Right.” After all, I didn’t have much of a choice.
Leo stood up and went to the truck, returning with a cooler of snacks. But not before Adam sat beside me and proceeded to take out a cigarette.
“I hear your old man died of cancer?” Adam asked as he lit up. His voice was rough, uncaring and somewhat smug.
“My father suffered from colon-rectal cancer because my mother was physically and sexually abusing him. He died when her coven tore him apart like a roast turkey, devouring everything he was. except this.” I clenched the rosary. “this was always mine.”
Adam took a long hit, blowing a pull of smoke that clearly smelled like marijuana.
I shook my head in disapproval. “Do you have kids?”
“Yeah.”
“Were they by your side when you passed?” I asked, in an effort to make him feel just as uncomfortable.
“My daughter was,” he said, taking another long hit off the joint. “My eldest daughter,” he paused for a moment and coughed. “I-it’s complicated.”
“I can do the math,” I said with an unintentional smile. “Your wife was pregnant when you died.” Sucks to be you, Sergeant Ass-hat.
Adam put out his joint in the sand. “I think it’s Leo’s turn to entertain you.”
I watched as he climbed back into the passenger seat of the truck, pulling a previously unseen blanket over his body. I had a feeling he wasn’t sleeping, he was just tired of hearing the truth. “Serves you right.”
Leo took a seat beside me. “You’ll have to forgive my partner, he’s-”
“I don’t have to do shit,” I said, as I popped a marshmallow into my mouth. “With all due respect.”
“I get it.” Leo calmly handed me a skewer. “But you need to know the full story.”
“You have my attention.”
“Adam died from a brain bleed, following a lifetime of addiction.”
“And you?” I asked as I assembled my marshmallows for the fire.
“I was a demon hunter; a paranormal special agent of the lord. I offered up my life to save the soul and humanity of someone I loved.”
“Not Adam, I assume?
“This was before Adam. just like how you met the love of your life, before Annie:the real reason you took Lola.”
“Like you said, Lola was a trophy. My goal was to murder her whore of a mother.” I roasted my marshmallows until they turned a crispy brown. Much to my surprise, they were still cool enough to grab with my bare hands. “So, when you said Adam died of a ‘brain bleed’, did you mean a bullet?” It makes sense that someone like Adam would be suicidal.
“No.”
“No?” I asked with a mouth full of sugary sticky sweetness.
Leo stroked his hand through the fire, creating swirls of neon blue and lavender purple. “Adam was sick for a long time, but he would have survived had he not struck a deal.”
“A deal, for what?”
“To save his daughter’s life.”
“Oh.” I glanced back at the truck and the man sleeping within. He looked peaceful, but I was not ready to let my guard down.
“That’s why he can’t physically harm you.”
“What about when he dropped me on my head?”
“Are you experiencing any pain or dizziness?”
“Well, not at the moment. But what if I wake up tomorrow with a massive bruise on my face?”
“Then you would have debunked my theory.”
“Your theory?”
“Adam Severgine, much like your father is a descendant of the original Adam.”
“As in Adam and Eve? I thought all of humanity was descended from Adam and Eve.”
“Few know the full truth. When God banished the first couple from the garden of Eden, they produced two sons.”
“Cain and Abel, right?”
“But when Eve was pregnant with their second child, Adam carried on an affair that produced a daughter. She was the only one by his side when he died of illness.”
On his deathbed he talked about his life of regrets, each painful memory compounding his sorrow and pain.
He offered her his heart if she could allow him a chance to be reborn”
the story sounded eerily familiar.
“After his death, she cut out his heart. For each chamber she consumed, she gave birth to a child that was a genetic clone of her father.”
“So technically not incest?
Level with me, Leo, what am I doing here? I mean, yes, I watched my father die. But I’m sure plenty of other people have been through the same.
You’re right about that.” he said as he toasted a marshmallow in his bare hand. “What do you know about Annie?
“I know enough.” I knew Annie lost her parents at a very young age, and that her story was even more fucked up than my own.
Mississippi Burning (1971)
“You can feel Bobby Reyes, can’t you? His blood flows through your veins.”
“I have a spiritual connection with all of my followers.”
But Bobby’s different: you can see through his eyes.
“Bullshit.”
“Believe what you like, do as you will.” Leo reclined in the sand, adjusting his hair before resting his hands behind his head.
“Where do I sleep?” I asked.
Leo closed his sparkling green eyes. “The answer will come to you in time.”
I knew what he meant. He expected me to go exploring or maybe even rummage through their belongings. But at that moment all I wanted to do was sit by the warmth of the fire. Could I really see through Bobby’s eyes? What would that even feel like? I blinked hard, trying to focus on Bobby’s face. I had only seen him for a few hours but there were parts I could remember. His eyes were dark. Were they brown? No, they were green, a deep forest green. And his hair, it was long and wavy (kind of like Leo’s hair, except without the random streaks of color.)
“Take me to the river drop me in the water,” I quietly hummed the tune from memory. I didn’t even know the real name of that song, only the part that the famous rubber fish toy used to sing. Looking out at the clear, calm water, my mind body and soul felt at peace. That was where I needed to be.
That was where I needed to sleep. Fully clothed I took one step then another until I was waist-deep. The hand that held the rosary felt wet but before I could get a closer look, a glow took over my vision.
I was sitting on a bed in a hotel room. I could hear the television, it was on some kind of infomercial.
Lola giggled with delight at the sight of the elderly woman making sample dishes.
“Lola?” the sound that came out was not my voice.
The bathroom door opened. Annie appeared wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants (her typical sleepwear.) “Hey, Bobby, you alright there?”
I looked down at my hands. “Yeah,” I said in his soft, french accent. “Je vais bien.” I’m good. “Merci.” Thank you.
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2019.08.05 04:06 dourdan Clover

“You’re lucky, rooming with Clover,” said Abby, the young nurse. “Whoever rooms with him goes into remission within the year.”
“You don’t say?” I was forty-five, with pancreatic cancer. I welcomed any good news.

Clover was a flower-child; long hair, slender muscles and tan skin. “I’m Lorenzo,” he said.
“I’m Todd.”
Lorenzo extended his arm for a handshake. His smile glimmered, despite his trembling hands. “B-brain cancer, don’t worry it’s not contagious. In fact, it’s so safe I stopped treatment.”

“Oh?” That was a bit of a surprise.
“I’ve been living on borrowed time and nutritional supplements.”
“Got any jokes about pancreatic cancer?”
He shrugged. “Cancer seems to be the pancreas’s only function?”
“Good one. I think we’ll get along fine.”
After unpacking I left for my intake appointment. When I returned an hour later Lorenzo was sitting in a wheelchair, facing the window. I could hear moaning, Lorenzo’s silky voice whispering in Italian.

I snuck closer. Hiding in the shadows, I was at the perfect angle to catch the reflection of the window. I could see everything.
Abby was on her knees. Her face was partially covered by his hospital gown. Lorenzo was stroking his fingers through her hair, even massaging her neck. It wasn’t long before I became uncomfortably aroused.

I got in bed, closed my eyes. Moments later, Abby appeared with a towel. “That Hospital policy?” I asked.
“I can suck you off too,” she offered.
“But you and Lorenzo?”
“Are we romantically involved?” she chuckled. “No.”
“I don’t understand. ”
“My Uncle Gianni was Clover’s partner. He died in this hospital. So now, in his memory, I bring peace to those who need it.”

Next day, I was escorted by Abby to the radiation clinic. “You!” an old man shouted. “I heard you’re rooming with the pot-head.”

Abby stood up. “Lorenzo is here for chronic pain. Not that it’s anyone’s business!”
“The guy is homeless, living here on the taxpayer’s dime!”
“He’s still a human being!”
“Hey.” I took Abby’s hand, to try and calm her. “How long as Lorenzo been here?”
“Four years. He has nowhere else to go.”

That night I awoke to the sound of sobbing. “Lorenzo?” I got out of bed for a closer look. I mean, the guy had been here for four years. I assumed he knew how to call for a nurse. Something had to be terribly wrong.
Standing over his bed I see his body was shivering, boarding on convulsions. “Get help,” he pleaded with me in a weak breath.
I hit the closest call button, “I think my roommate is having a seizure.”
“Todd, please don’t leave me’

“I won’t.” I couldn’t get to sleep even if I tried. I touched his face, he was burning with fever.
Lorenzo leaned on my hand, his tears falling on my skin. “Thank you.”
I felt the urge to kiss his forehead. “Do you have any family?”
He shook his head.
I kissed his nose then his lips. Lorenzo’s beauty was breathtaking. I had never wanted anyone more.

As he closed his eyes, Abby appeared along with the trauma team. I could see Lorenzo’s vitals were dropping. Abby helped me back into bed. “Try to get some rest.”

Next morning Lorenzo was gone. “He’s in intensive care,” Abby explained.
“Can I see him?”
“Sure,” she said pulling around my wheelchair. “It might lift his spirits.”
“I can walk.”
“You’re wearing a hospital gown. Trust me- you’ll be more comfortable if I give you a ride.” Abby allowed me into his room. She immediately left, locking the door.

Lorenzo looked up. “Hey.”
“How are you doing?”
“Just tired of living, I feel so alone.”
A sudden rush came over me. I stood up from my wheelchair, approaching his bed. “May I hold you?”
He nodded. “I’d like that.”
There was plenty of room as I entered the bed. Holding him close, I stroked his face; his forehead, down his jaw, to his lips. “Ti Amo…” I said. I don’t speak Italian. I turned his head, and we started to kiss. My hands explored his body, careful of his feeding tube.
Lorenzo blinked his eyes. “Gianni?”

Another voice was answering for me. “Yeah, it’s me.” I position his body facing away from me, my naked legs entangled with his. “I missed you.” Kissing his shoulder, my hands grip his thighs. “I want you.” Before I knew it I was inside him. I had never made love to man. But Lorenzo wasn’t just any man; he was my lover, my life, my world.
Lorenzo’s body seemed to melt into mine. “My love,” he moaned as he took hold of my hand.
I closed my eyes, lost in the throes of passion. I could see a memory that was not my own: light snow drifting through the starry night sky. A smile crept across my face. “Do you remember when we hitchhiked to Reno?

Lorenzo laughed, taking a deep soothing breath. “You won so much at the slots, the casino comped our room.”
“I called you my four-leaf clover.”

“And we made love all night long.”
My legs trembled as I climaxed. “You were my everything.”
Cupping my face in his hands, Lorenzo turned to kiss me. “I miss you, Gianni.”

After a few months, my cancer was in remission. I stayed in touch until Lorenzo eventually passed on.
It’s been forty years.
I wish Lorenzo and Gianni eternal peace.

dourdan.wordpress.com
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2018.06.27 02:24 dourdan The Remedy 2: Lovelorn

part 1-
https://www.reddit.com/Wholesomenosleep/comments/8t7zgk/the_remedy/
I didn't want to kiss him. The man was old enough to be my father. But there I was, in the decrepit old barn, on my patient's lap. My lips were inches away from his. "I'll ask you again, what is your name?"
He could tell I was stalling. My patient's body was healing itself at a superhuman rate. "My name? Dear girl, you're not ready to know my name."
"Why is that?" I asked with a forced smile. "You know my name."
"Yes, Dr. Ella Flores." He licked his lips. "I know your name but not your full power."
My patient had gone from semi-conscious with a badly flogged back, to sitting up. All without the use of my 'full power.' Looking into his dark eyes, I saw nothing but raw passion. I could give myself to him. It would have been so easy. "My mother had never shown me the treatment in its entirety." I rubbed my hands together to prepare my mental focus.
“Tell me a little about your parents. Perhaps holding their memory in your heart will inspire you.”
Just the thought of my father made me smile. I missed him. I couldn't even remember the last words I said to him before he left. And now he was gone.
My patient stroked my cheek, forcing me to look into his hypnotic eyes. “Can you see your father's face, looking up at your mother with passionate love?”
I nodded. “With my father lying in bed mother would pull at his energy. She wouldn’t actually touch him she would massage his aura.” I could see the moment in my mind. “The colors of energy would caress the bare skin of his stomach moving downward to his pain-stricken hips. The bruises would heal and my father would fall into a peaceful sleep.”
I knew my mother started the treatment by touching my father’s throat, aligning her breathing with his. Then she would move her hand down his collarbone to his chest. With my hand over my patient’s heart, I could feel the rhythm of his breath, his beautiful spirit. As I closed my eyes I could feel his energy in my hand. It felt like numbness on my skin; pins and needles.
“Yes, just like that. If your mother’s hands were anything like yours, I wouldn’t be surprised if your father was able to go dancing after one of her treatments.”
I looked at my hand. To my horror, it was hovering over the man’s erection. His lap was covered with the thin blanket but it was awkward none the less. I drew back my hand, and with it my healing energy.
The man chuckled. “My dear how old are you?”
“That is none of your concern! I am a doctor, I have examined men’s bodies before but I do not wish to engage in such impure acts!”
I could see that my choice of words made him laugh even harder: the little girl trying to speak like a grown up. "Viejo," I muttered.
“Old? How old would you wager I am?” he asked.
“I don’t know. Forty, fifty?”
The man shook his head with a devious smile. “I will tell you when the time is right,” he said, pulling the blanket up to his chest. “If you wish, I hope you might return to cutting my hair?”
"Sure." I moved from his lap to sit behind him. Part of me wanted to thank him for taking sex off the table. But no sex meant I would have to find a different means of learning who he really was. "If you won't tell me your name, at least tell me about your back tattoo. Why a Chrysanthemum?"
"It does resemble a Chrysanthemum, doesn't it?" he replied with a sigh. “My first wife’s name was Rosa. For every lover since her, I've added to the tattoo.”
"Oh, intresting." I removed the towel from the medicated water, pressing the warmth to his cheek. With the skin soft and supple I attempted to shave the man’s face. I made sure to work slowly, staying focused on my blade.
“Were your parents legally wed?” he asked. “That’s a rarity in this day and age.”
“Yeah,” I replied. “That’s how his captors knew where to send the remains.”
“I’m sorry,” the man said. “I know of the cruel manner of death brought upon slaves. Not only husbands and fathers but also sons; so many young boys torn from their families.” His body trembled. “After my Rosa died, I was forced to watch as my own little boy was taken from my arms.”
I quickly put down my blade. He was sobbing so hard I could no longer safely shave his face. I had heard of male children torn from their mother’s arms and executed in the name of population control. This happened most often in third world countries; dictators flexing their power over the masses. Civilized nations treated their non-magic male children with slightly more dignity since males were necessary to keep as partners and fuel. I stroked his face wiping tears from his eyes.
He looked at me. And for the first time I felt a true connection to him.
"My name is Juan-Miguel. I am to be put to death for the autumn feast. I imagine that's why they sent for a doctor: to make sure I will survive the bloodletting long enough for them to fill their rations before I am beheaded.”
The thought made me sick, I needed to change the subject. “What are you given to eat?”
“As of late, I have been given only scraps,” he explained, motioning towards the pile of rotted food that seemed more fitting for a pig than a man. "Of course prior to your visit I had been too weak to sit up, much less eat."
I suddenly heard a knock at the door. I brushed the hair off my skirt as I stood to open it. “Hello?”
“Hello!” There stood a tall slender girl with long black hair, tan skin and the brightest smile I had ever seen. She wore a loose canvas dress, stained with blood and other debris. But most noticeable was the fact she was rolling in a metal bathtub filled halfway with water. Upon getting the heavy item inside, the girl quickly locked the door.
She rushed to the man's side greeting him with a deep tender kiss.
I watched as his hand slid up her leg caressing her thigh.
The girl giggled. "Viejo pervertido." She stood up and pulled close a large burlap sack that had been attached to the tub. “Look what I brought you,” she said as she started to take out various glass jars. “I grabbed as much as I could. Take a bite. It will give you strength.”
I pushed the tub closer to the mattress. It was heavy for me. But this girl somehow pulled the three-wheeled tub while and a bag filled with food items.
Juan gasped, "Ava, is that really you?"
“Yes, my love. I told the nuns that I wished to help prepare you for the sacrifice, and they believed me. That’s why they let me send for a doctor. Here, have some food.” She opened a container of red jam and pulled a small wooden spoon from her pocket.
Juan closed his eyes as the bite touched his lips. “I fear I am dreaming.”
She kissed his forehead. “Don’t worry, this is not a dream. I’m here. I made it back to you just like I promised I would. I love you so much. Everything is going to be ok now.” She then turned to me. “Right, Dr. Flores?”
“Dr. Flores was my father.”
“I know. You’re Ella, right?”
“How do you know my name?”
“Your father was an inspiration to me. He told me… ” She held out her hand. “Where are my manners, I’m Ava. I’m sorry I’m nervous, it’s just such an honor to meet you!”
“Did you send for my father knowing he was dead?”
“I needed to find you, I needed to make things right. It was my mother’s coven that captured him.”
Juan pulled Ava close, speaking over her. “Before coming to work as a gardener, at St Theresa, my Ava was employed as a comfort girl. She cared for many men.”
"Um, what?"
Ava pushed away from Juan. It was clear the topic was one of great emotional strain. “The young girls of the coven are selected to befriend the prisoners. We were allowed to read to them, talk to them. Many of the men had children of their own so in theory, the act was intended to bring them some level of comfort and peace. Of course, the majority of the coven children were horrible; they would spit or even kick the men. And a few of the men were not much better; taking advantage of being in the room alone with a young girl.”
I watched as Ava put her hand in her pocket, clenching her fist. But she wasn’t angry, she was holding something.
“Your father, Dr. Alberto Flores was a good man. He loved his family with every fiber of his being! When he was not asking the Lord for guidance he spoke only of your mother and sisters. Please, you have to believe me!”
“I believe you.” I had little choice in the matter. “What was your relationship with my father?”
Ava handed the jar of preserves to Juan. “I had been living in Monterrey at the time, with my mother. She was the high priestess who sent for your father, under the guise of treating a little girl who had been gored by a wolf.” Ava stood up and lit a series of candles. Almost immediately the room felt warmer. “He wasn’t even allowed to treat her. She died a week before he did.” She closed her eyes. Placing her fingers through the flames, each candle grew stronger and brighter, as if feeding off her magic. “You father was held for a little over a month. But during that time he became very sick. I was allowed to stay by Alberto’s side until the fever took his life.” Ava took the canister of food from Juan. She put her arm around him, to help his weak body into the bath.
I watched as she bathed Juan-Miguel. The water shimmered with metallic aqua, silver, and gold. It was as if she was bathing him in sparkling oils.
“Your father’s words inspired me to leave my mother’s coven, to set out on my own and find my destiny.” She moved her hands up Juan’s chest allowing the water to sparkle down his skin. She finished her act with a kiss on her lover’s forehead, down the bridge of his nose, to his lips.
Juan smiled. “I’ve missed you, my love.”
“And I you,” she said as she playfully splashed water on his face. “Ella,” she continued, her gaze was on Juan, clearly lost in her lover’s eyes. “Alberto told me about you and your sisters, Tasha liked to paint, and Annabelle she taught herself the violin. And your mother, she would bless him as I am about to bless my man now.” As her gown fell to the floor one thing became very clear- she was pregnant with his child. Her slender, physically fit body was strong yet soft with beautiful curves.
Juan sat up, his arms reaching out to her. “Is it mine?”
“Of course, my love. Our baby is the reason why I stayed away.”
As she moved her clothing away from the tub she removed a piece of paper from her pocket. It was the item she had clutched in her hand earlier. “Ella, this is for you. Once you read it my truths will become clear.”
I took the wrinkled paper from her. There was something wrapped in the paper: father’s prayer cross. I placed it to the side, as I carefully unfolded the letter. Written in dark red ink was my father’s handwriting. I felt a horrible pain in my chest, as I read his final words. In the letter, he wrote about how sorry he was, how much he missed his family. He blamed himself for getting captured, for putting his work before the needs of his children. ‘I pray this letter will someday find its way into the hands of my family; if not my wife and or daughters then perhaps their children. I truly believe in the strength and courage of my girls. Even without me, their lives will prevail.’ I crumpled the letter in my fist, hurling it to the floor.
I looked at Ava who was now sitting in the tub on Juan’s lap, his arms wrapped around her. “Ava,” he, whispered, his lips pressed against his lover’s neck. “Go comfort the good doctor.”
Ava stood up, dripping wet as she exited the bath and grabbed my hand. “Let’s take a break from the letter. Have you ever blessed someone? To give pleasure, or ease pain without seeking a reward: that is true power.”
“I sorta tried it earlier.”
Ava giggled. “Let me guess, he told you to ‘Give it your best try’? My Juan is just a dirty old man.”
I smiled. “Yeah, my father was the same way.”
Juan started to laugh until Ava slugged him in the arm.
“I mean he was charming, funny,” I specified. “Not that...”
“Not that you have daddy issues?” Juan chuckled.
“Come here, Ella,” Ava said with a sexy smile.
“I don’t think we can all fit in the tub.”
“You don’t need to be inside to take part.” She took my hand and pulled me close for a soft kiss. “Give me your hand,” Ava whispered. "You need to learn to embrace your sexual spirit." Ava took my hand, stroking my pointer finger to Juan's lips.
My body shuddered. I could feel his breath, his mouth opening. He was smiling as his tongue teased my skin. I had to admit he was undeniably stunning, but something felt off.
His fingernails suddenly transformed into claws, tearing at my clothes.
“Stop!” I cried.
Ava put her hand over my mouth. “Just relax,” she said she kissed my cheek, down my jaw. “He won’t hurt you.”
I took a deep breath, trying to focus on her touch as a tear slipped down my cheek.
Ava pressed a finger to Juan's throat. All at once his breathing slowed and his body became calm. "Juan acts like a lion but he’s really just a kitty cat.” She stroked her fingers down my now exposed skin “Is that a tattoo?”
“Yes, I have a cross on my ribs. My sister did it for me.”
“It’s your father’s cross!” Ava said excitedly. “Did you get it in honor of him?”
“After the funeral service Tasha did one for herself on her leg and Annabelle got one on her wrist but I wanted mine to be more personal; to be close to my heart.”
“That’s sweet of you,” Ava said as she got out of the tub. “I know he would have been so honored.” I could feel her grab my shoulder. “Come over here, lay down on the bed.”
“Why?” I asked.
“I wish to help you unlock your full potential.”
Ava’s magic had made the room comfortably warm so I felt at ease, as I slipped out of my skirt and undergarments. I laid my unimpressive self on the dirty mattress and closed my eyes.
I could feel Ava lean over me, her long wet hair dripping on my skin. “Just relax, Ella, I used to do this all the time for the older women of my mother’s coven.”
Never in my life had I fantasized about a woman but Ava, she filled my mind with lustful sin.
Suddenly I could hear the water sloshing as Juan stood up in the tub. “Ava, are you truly going to leave me to my own devices?” He grabbed Ava by her neck.
I watched in horror as he flung her backward.
Juan gripped my thighs. He spread my legs, with his knees, pinning me down with his body weight. “It’s time for me to play doctor.” With his free hand, Juan pinned my shoulder down. His gaze feral, teeth bared.
I could feel the heat of his breath. “This is not you. This is a corruption of your magic!”
“This is me!” he roared. His skin sparkled with white energy, emanating from his shoulders: his back tattoo. That was it!
“If what your body requires is a vessel to use as a means of release, then I will give myself to you willingly.” I reached my hand to his face, caressing his cheek. I could feel him trembling. “You are a kind man, a loving partner and God willing you will be a good father to the prince that rides within your lover’s womb.”
“A boy?”
"It's my guess, based on how she's carrying. But boy or girl, the baby will be special because it will be a child born of your love."
Ava sat up as if nothing had happened. “Ella, you’re so sweet.” She leaned in and kissed my cheek, cuddling her face to my neck. She then switched her focus to Juan, placing his hand on her stomach. "Can you feel our prince? He’s going to be powerful, like his daddy.”
Juan laid on my opposite side and kissed my cheek. “I apologize for earlier.”
"So, Ella," she said, "I heard what you said earlier, did you really want my lover to take your virginity?"
I was not certain didn’t want my first sexual experience to be with a man, especially not Juan-Miguel. I pulled Ava's close to kiss her soft lips. "I want you to finish what you started."
Ava smiled. "I believe that can be arranged."
I watched as Ava moved back, between my legs. She lifted her ass, positioning herself for her lover to take her from behind.
The world moved in slow-motion.
I could see his hands grasping her thighs holding her by her hips as he penetrated her.
Ava rested on her elbows. With her face over my genitals, I let her do as she pleased with her mouth. It was not pleasurable. It was not what I wanted. But even still, my hip bucked as my muscles tensed. With each breath, I was arching my back. I closed my eyes, as I massaged my breasts.
Suddenly I felt Juan’s hands cupping my chest. It was clear by the lack of motion he had finally achieved his release. “Earlier I asked you to guess my age.”
"I remember," I replied still not opening my eyes.
“My true age is two-hundred."
“What?” I said with a laugh. I was shocked, but it was not unheard of. As a child, I heard legends: men born of magic had the ability to restore their vitality through sexual conquest.
“Ella, you told me your father was a doctor, but you never asked what I was prior to being a held captive.” With is freehand Juan reached down and took my hand, placing it on his now flaccid penis.
I could feel a strange, warm, energy. It was like touching a light bulb. “What are you?”
“General Juan-Miguel Torres, a witch hunter and officer of the revolution.”
Ava wiped her lips as she returned to my side. “He’s a sorcerer. Just tell him you’re impressed so we can move on to the important part.”
“A sorcerer? I had heard of such powerful male magic users but I assumed they had all been captured or hunted to extinction.”
“I had been living as a farmer. When my wife passed away I was sold into slavery.”
“But you could have fought back. From what I’ve read sorcerers have the power to level entire cities.”
“Not alone." Juan sat up, covering himself with the blanket. "I had lost so much. Without an ally, I was as weak as any mortal."
Ava reached for my father's cross necklace. “Ella, now that you know you can trust us I need you to put this on.”
Trust? I failed to see how participating in their sex play equated to trust. "Why should I?"
Ava shrugged. "The way your father explained it to me, was that only someone of blood relation would be able to wield the artifact's true power. And even if you don't want to use its power to help us escape, the necklace was always meant to be yours."
To be continued.....
part 3
https://www.reddit.com/Wholesomenosleep/comments/8vfzaq/the_remedy_3_visions_of_powe
https://dourdan.wordpress.com/
submitted by dourdan to Wholesomenosleep [link] [comments]


2018.06.27 02:18 dourdan The Remedy 2: Lovelorn

part 1
https://www.reddit.com/cryosleep/comments/8t8l0q/the_remedy/
I didn't want to kiss him. The man was old enough to be my father. But there I was, in the decrepit old barn, on my patient's lap. My lips were inches away from his. "I'll ask you again, what is your name?"
He could tell I was stalling. My patient's body was healing itself at a superhuman rate. "My name? Dear girl, you're not ready to know my name."
"Why is that?" I asked with a forced smile. "You know my name."
"Yes, Dr. Ella Flores." He licked his lips. "I know your name but not your full power."
My patient had gone from semi-conscious with a badly flogged back, to sitting up. All without the use of my 'full power.' Looking into his dark eyes, I saw nothing but raw passion. I could give myself to him. It would have been so easy. "My mother had never shown me the treatment in its entirety." I rubbed my hands together to prepare my mental focus.
“Tell me a little about your parents. Perhaps holding their memory in your heart will inspire you.”
Just the thought of my father made me smile. I missed him. I couldn't even remember the last words I said to him before he left. And now he was gone.
My patient stroked my cheek, forcing me to look into his hypnotic eyes. “Can you see your father's face, looking up at your mother with passionate love?”
I nodded. “With my father lying in bed mother would pull at his energy. She wouldn’t actually touch him she would massage his aura.” I could see the moment in my mind. “The colors of energy would caress the bare skin of his stomach moving downward to his pain-stricken hips. The bruises would heal and my father would fall into a peaceful sleep.”
I knew my mother started the treatment by touching my father’s throat, aligning her breathing with his. Then she would move her hand down his collarbone to his chest. With my hand over my patient’s heart, I could feel the rhythm of his breath, his beautiful spirit. As I closed my eyes I could feel his energy in my hand. It felt like numbness on my skin; pins and needles.
“Yes, just like that. If your mother’s hands were anything like yours, I wouldn’t be surprised if your father was able to go dancing after one of her treatments.”
I looked at my hand. To my horror, it was hovering over the man’s erection. His lap was covered with the thin blanket but it was awkward none the less. I drew back my hand, and with it my healing energy.
The man chuckled. “My dear how old are you?”
“That is none of your concern! I am a doctor, I have examined men’s bodies before but I do not wish to engage in such impure acts!”
I could see that my choice of words made him laugh even harder: the little girl trying to speak like a grown up. "Viejo," I muttered.
“Old? How old would you wager I am?” he asked.
“I don’t know. Forty, fifty?”
The man shook his head with a devious smile. “I will tell you when the time is right,” he said, pulling the blanket up to his chest. “If you wish, I hope you might return to cutting my hair?”
"Sure." I moved from his lap to sit behind him. Part of me wanted to thank him for taking sex off the table. But no sex meant I would have to find a different means of learning who he really was. "If you won't tell me your name, at least tell me about your back tattoo. Why a Chrysanthemum?"
"It does resemble a Chrysanthemum, doesn't it?" he replied with a sigh. “My first wife’s name was Rosa. For every lover since her, I've added to the tattoo.”
"Oh, intresting." I removed the towel from the medicated water, pressing the warmth to his cheek. With the skin soft and supple I attempted to shave the man’s face. I made sure to work slowly, staying focused on my blade.
“Were your parents legally wed?” he asked. “That’s a rarity in this day and age.”
“Yeah,” I replied. “That’s how his captors knew where to send the remains.”
“I’m sorry,” the man said. “I know of the cruel manner of death brought upon slaves. Not only husbands and fathers but also sons; so many young boys torn from their families.” His body trembled. “After my Rosa died, I was forced to watch as my own little boy was taken from my arms.”
I quickly put down my blade. He was sobbing so hard I could no longer safely shave his face. I had heard of male children torn from their mother’s arms and executed in the name of population control. This happened most often in third world countries; dictators flexing their power over the masses. Civilized nations treated their non-magic male children with slightly more dignity since males were necessary to keep as partners and fuel. I stroked his face wiping tears from his eyes.
He looked at me. And for the first time I felt a true connection to him.
"My name is Juan-Miguel. I am to be put to death for the autumn feast. I imagine that's why they sent for a doctor: to make sure I will survive the bloodletting long enough for them to fill their rations before I am beheaded.”
The thought made me sick, I needed to change the subject. “What are you given to eat?”
“As of late, I have been given only scraps,” he explained, motioning towards the pile of rotted food that seemed more fitting for a pig than a man. "Of course prior to your visit I had been too weak to sit up, much less eat."
I suddenly heard a knock at the door. I brushed the hair off my skirt as I stood to open it. “Hello?”
“Hello!” There stood a tall slender girl with long black hair, tan skin and the brightest smile I had ever seen. She wore a loose canvas dress, stained with blood and other debris. But most noticeable was the fact she was rolling in a metal bathtub filled halfway with water. Upon getting the heavy item inside, the girl quickly locked the door.
She rushed to the man's side greeting him with a deep tender kiss.
I watched as his hand slid up her leg caressing her thigh.
The girl giggled. "Viejo pervertido." She stood up and pulled close a large burlap sack that had been attached to the tub. “Look what I brought you,” she said as she started to take out various glass jars. “I grabbed as much as I could. Take a bite. It will give you strength.”
I pushed the tub closer to the mattress. It was heavy for me. But this girl somehow pulled the three-wheeled tub while and a bag filled with food items.
Juan gasped, "Ava, is that really you?"
“Yes, my love. I told the nuns that I wished to help prepare you for the sacrifice, and they believed me. That’s why they let me send for a doctor. Here, have some food.” She opened a container of red jam and pulled a small wooden spoon from her pocket.
Juan closed his eyes as the bite touched his lips. “I fear I am dreaming.”
She kissed his forehead. “Don’t worry, this is not a dream. I’m here. I made it back to you just like I promised I would. I love you so much. Everything is going to be ok now.” She then turned to me. “Right, Dr. Flores?”
“Dr. Flores was my father.”
“I know. You’re Ella, right?”
“How do you know my name?”
“Your father was an inspiration to me. He told me… ” She held out her hand. “Where are my manners, I’m Ava. I’m sorry I’m nervous, it’s just such an honor to meet you!”
“Did you send for my father knowing he was dead?”
“I needed to find you, I needed to make things right. It was my mother’s coven that captured him.”
Juan pulled Ava close, speaking over her. “Before coming to work as a gardener, at St Theresa, my Ava was employed as a comfort girl. She cared for many men.”
"Um, what?"
Ava pushed away from Juan. It was clear the topic was one of great emotional strain. “The young girls of the coven are selected to befriend the prisoners. We were allowed to read to them, talk to them. Many of the men had children of their own so in theory, the act was intended to bring them some level of comfort and peace. Of course, the majority of the coven children were horrible; they would spit or even kick the men. And a few of the men were not much better; taking advantage of being in the room alone with a young girl.”
I watched as Ava put her hand in her pocket, clenching her fist. But she wasn’t angry, she was holding something.
“Your father, Dr. Alberto Flores was a good man. He loved his family with every fiber of his being! When he was not asking the Lord for guidance he spoke only of your mother and sisters. Please, you have to believe me!”
“I believe you.” I had little choice in the matter. “What was your relationship with my father?”
Ava handed the jar of preserves to Juan. “I had been living in Monterrey at the time, with my mother. She was the high priestess who sent for your father, under the guise of treating a little girl who had been gored by a wolf.” Ava stood up and lit a series of candles. Almost immediately the room felt warmer. “He wasn’t even allowed to treat her. She died a week before he did.” She closed her eyes. Placing her fingers through the flames, each candle grew stronger and brighter, as if feeding off her magic. “You father was held for a little over a month. But during that time he became very sick. I was allowed to stay by Alberto’s side until the fever took his life.” Ava took the canister of food from Juan. She put her arm around him, to help his weak body into the bath.
I watched as she bathed Juan-Miguel. The water shimmered with metallic aqua, silver, and gold. It was as if she was bathing him in sparkling oils.
“Your father’s words inspired me to leave my mother’s coven, to set out on my own and find my destiny.” She moved her hands up Juan’s chest allowing the water to sparkle down his skin. She finished her act with a kiss on her lover’s forehead, down the bridge of his nose, to his lips.
Juan smiled. “I’ve missed you, my love.”
“And I you,” she said as she playfully splashed water on his face. “Ella,” she continued, her gaze was on Juan, clearly lost in her lover’s eyes. “Alberto told me about you and your sisters, Tasha liked to paint, and Annabelle she taught herself the violin. And your mother, she would bless him as I am about to bless my man now.” As her gown fell to the floor one thing became very clear- she was pregnant with his child. Her slender, physically fit body was strong yet soft with beautiful curves.
Juan sat up, his arms reaching out to her. “Is it mine?”
“Of course, my love. Our baby is the reason why I stayed away.”
As she moved her clothing away from the tub she removed a piece of paper from her pocket. It was the item she had clutched in her hand earlier. “Ella, this is for you. Once you read it my truths will become clear.”
I took the wrinkled paper from her. There was something wrapped in the paper: father’s prayer cross. I placed it to the side, as I carefully unfolded the letter. Written in dark red ink was my father’s handwriting. I felt a horrible pain in my chest, as I read his final words. In the letter, he wrote about how sorry he was, how much he missed his family. He blamed himself for getting captured, for putting his work before the needs of his children. ‘I pray this letter will someday find its way into the hands of my family; if not my wife and or daughters then perhaps their children. I truly believe in the strength and courage of my girls. Even without me, their lives will prevail.’ I crumpled the letter in my fist, hurling it to the floor.
I looked at Ava who was now sitting in the tub on Juan’s lap, his arms wrapped around her. “Ava,” he, whispered, his lips pressed against his lover’s neck. “Go comfort the good doctor.”
Ava stood up, dripping wet as she exited the bath and grabbed my hand. “Let’s take a break from the letter. Have you ever blessed someone? To give pleasure, or ease pain without seeking a reward: that is true power.”
“I sorta tried it earlier.”
Ava giggled. “Let me guess, he told you to ‘Give it your best try’? My Juan is just a dirty old man.”
I smiled. “Yeah, my father was the same way.”
Juan started to laugh until Ava slugged him in the arm.
“I mean he was charming, funny,” I specified. “Not that...”
“Not that you have daddy issues?” Juan chuckled.
“Come here, Ella,” Ava said with a sexy smile.
“I don’t think we can all fit in the tub.”
“You don’t need to be inside to take part.” She took my hand and pulled me close for a soft kiss. “Give me your hand,” Ava whispered. "You need to learn to embrace your sexual spirit." Ava took my hand, stroking my pointer finger to Juan's lips.
My body shuddered. I could feel his breath, his mouth opening. He was smiling as his tongue teased my skin. I had to admit he was undeniably stunning, but something felt off.
His fingernails suddenly transformed into claws, tearing at my clothes.
“Stop!” I cried.
Ava put her hand over my mouth. “Just relax,” she said she kissed my cheek, down my jaw. “He won’t hurt you.”
I took a deep breath, trying to focus on her touch as a tear slipped down my cheek.
Ava pressed a finger to Juan's throat. All at once his breathing slowed and his body became calm. "Juan acts like a lion but he’s really just a kitty cat.” She stroked her fingers down my now exposed skin “Is that a tattoo?”
“Yes, I have a cross on my ribs. My sister did it for me.”
“It’s your father’s cross!” Ava said excitedly. “Did you get it in honor of him?”
“After the funeral service Tasha did one for herself on her leg and Annabelle got one on her wrist but I wanted mine to be more personal; to be close to my heart.”
“That’s sweet of you,” Ava said as she got out of the tub. “I know he would have been so honored.” I could feel her grab my shoulder. “Come over here, lay down on the bed.”
“Why?” I asked.
“I wish to help you unlock your full potential.”
Ava’s magic had made the room comfortably warm so I felt at ease, as I slipped out of my skirt and undergarments. I laid my unimpressive self on the dirty mattress and closed my eyes.
I could feel Ava lean over me, her long wet hair dripping on my skin. “Just relax, Ella, I used to do this all the time for the older women of my mother’s coven.”
Never in my life had I fantasized about a woman but Ava, she filled my mind with lustful sin.
Suddenly I could hear the water sloshing as Juan stood up in the tub. “Ava, are you truly going to leave me to my own devices?” He grabbed Ava by her neck.
I watched in horror as he flung her backward.
Juan gripped my thighs. He spread my legs, with his knees, pinning me down with his body weight. “It’s time for me to play doctor.” With his free hand, Juan pinned my shoulder down. His gaze feral, teeth bared.
I could feel the heat of his breath. “This is not you. This is a corruption of your magic!”
“This is me!” he roared. His skin sparkled with white energy, emanating from his shoulders: his back tattoo. That was it!
“If what your body requires is a vessel to use as a means of release, then I will give myself to you willingly.” I reached my hand to his face, caressing his cheek. I could feel him trembling. “You are a kind man, a loving partner and God willing you will be a good father to the prince that rides within your lover’s womb.”
“A boy?”
"It's my guess, based on how she's carrying. But boy or girl, the baby will be special because it will be a child born of your love."
Ava sat up as if nothing had happened. “Ella, you’re so sweet.” She leaned in and kissed my cheek, cuddling her face to my neck. She then switched her focus to Juan, placing his hand on her stomach. "Can you feel our prince? He’s going to be powerful, like his daddy.”
Juan laid on my opposite side and kissed my cheek. “I apologize for earlier.”
"So, Ella," she said, "I heard what you said earlier, did you really want my lover to take your virginity?"
I was not certain didn’t want my first sexual experience to be with a man, especially not Juan-Miguel. I pulled Ava's close to kiss her soft lips. "I want you to finish what you started."
Ava smiled. "I believe that can be arranged."
I watched as Ava moved back, between my legs. She lifted her ass, positioning herself for her lover to take her from behind.
The world moved in slow-motion.
I could see his hands grasping her thighs holding her by her hips as he penetrated her.
Ava rested on her elbows. With her face over my genitals, I let her do as she pleased with her mouth. It was not pleasurable. It was not what I wanted. But even still, my hip bucked as my muscles tensed. With each breath, I was arching my back. I closed my eyes, as I massaged my breasts.
Suddenly I felt Juan’s hands cupping my chest. It was clear by the lack of motion he had finally achieved his release. “Earlier I asked you to guess my age.”
"I remember," I replied still not opening my eyes.
“My true age is two-hundred."
“What?” I said with a laugh. I was shocked, but it was not unheard of. As a child, I heard legends: men born of magic had the ability to restore their vitality through sexual conquest.
“Ella, you told me your father was a doctor, but you never asked what I was prior to being a held captive.” With is freehand Juan reached down and took my hand, placing it on his now flaccid penis.
I could feel a strange, warm, energy. It was like touching a light bulb. “What are you?”
“General Juan-Miguel Torres, a witch hunter and officer of the revolution.”
Ava wiped her lips as she returned to my side. “He’s a sorcerer. Just tell him you’re impressed so we can move on to the important part.”
“A sorcerer? I had heard of such powerful male magic users but I assumed they had all been captured or hunted to extinction.”
“I had been living as a farmer. When my wife passed away I was sold into slavery.”
“But you could have fought back. From what I’ve read sorcerers have the power to level entire cities.”
“Not alone." Juan sat up, covering himself with the blanket. "I had lost so much. Without an ally, I was as weak as any mortal."
Ava reached for my father's cross necklace. “Ella, now that you know you can trust us I need you to put this on.”
Trust? I failed to see how participating in their sex play equated to trust. "Why should I?"
Ava shrugged. "The way your father explained it to me, was that only someone of blood relation would be able to wield the artifact's true power. And even if you don't want to use its power to help us escape, the necklace was always meant to be yours."
To be continued.....
part 3
https://www.reddit.com/cryosleep/comments/8vfylt/the_remedy_3_visions_of_powe
https://dourdan.wordpress.com/
submitted by dourdan to cryosleep [link] [comments]


2018.06.13 07:41 dourdan Caterpillar 4: Trial by Fire

Part 1- https://www.reddit.com/nosleep/comments/8k8e56/caterpilla
Part 2- https://www.reddit.com/nosleep/comments/8m2zw7/caterpillar_2_transformation/
Part 3- https://www.reddit.com/nosleep/comments/8o4ual/caterpillar_3_love_in_bloom/
I married Azzy in a courthouse on a rainy afternoon. The love of my life wore a fifty dollar dress, bought at Target with her employee discount, and a veil she made herself using various thrift store finds. I stroked her long black hair, looking into her sky blue eyes. My bride looked like a Disney princess.
My sister Olivia was by my side, struggling to balance on her prosthetic leg while holding my son with her prosthetic arm.
Baby Lucas wailed, his little limbs flailing.
"Give him to me," said Remy. My son seemed to cry when held by anyone other than Azzy's gay best friend. The Cajun-Hawaiian playboy, with his long hair and surfer looks, was working on turning his life around. After the untimely death of his boyfriend he quit his job, staying at MY apartment full time to watch over the baby (who may or may not be the reincarnated soul of his partner.)
As for Azzy, after she had the baby she took advantage of Target's maternity leave. She told me she was unsure if she even wanted to go back to being a cashier. I advised her to keep her options open, just in case she changed her mind after the six months were up. I loved her, I would support her in whatever she chose. But as I kissed my bride, my eyes couldn't help but glance towards Remy.
It bugged me, the fact that Azzy and Remy had so much time to spend together. I liked that she was keeping him on the straight and narrow. Even stripped of his powers he had not resorted to drugs or alcohol. That's something to be admired, right?
Together they'd helped Olivia move into the halfway house where she was learning to live independently with one arm, one leg and no tongue. We were all friends, family; at the time, that was all that mattered.
After the ceremony we all headed back to my apartment to order takeout from the closest vegan restaurant.
“I think we should go back to Wisconsin, as a family,” Azzy suggested.
I glanced up from my veggie burger. “Why?”
“It’s our culture, our heritage,” she pointed out. Olivia and Remy nodded in agreement.
“Azzy, my parents are dead, your parents are a zombie and a demon.” It needed to be said.
“Your point?” Remy asked as he held my infant son in his arms.
“Shut up Nanny Man-bun,” I muttered. “You don’t get a vote!"
Remy wore his dark hair pulled into a trendy hipster bun. “Azzy wants little Lucas to meet his extended family. I don’t see what the big deal is.”
“Yeah,” Olivia added, pressing a finger to her electronic voice box. “It’s been years since we visited Mom’s grave and I’ve never even seen Dad’s grave.”
"They're the same grave," I groaned, frustrated. The night Lucas was born I had asked Azzy if she loved me enough to relinquish her powers, her answer was no. Now I knew why- Wisconsin. The Midwest was the source of her powers, her demon father’s clan, which was now her clan. She told me it was selfish to ask her to choose between me and her family. Funny, I thought I was her family.
“You can take a week off of work,” Azzy said as she casually took a sip of Sprite. “And I have a few more weeks of maternity leave.”
Remy and Olivia were awaiting a reply. I was outnumbered. “Fine, I’ll ask.” I actually was entitled to paternity leave, but I had declined since Azzy had Remy to help her with the baby.
The next day I talked to my supervisor, at the hospital, about taking leave. But the schedule had already been made and I apparently had the week off. “What gives?” I asked.
“Your wife spoke to me earlier this week,” Ms Conners replied. She was an elderly woman, close to retirement age.
"She went behind my back?" I sighed and rolled my eyes. “Of course she did.”
“Hey, I did you a favor. You are going to take the next two weeks off. Or do you really want that hippy-freak raising your kid?”
She wasn’t wrong. The baby adored Remy. Secretly, my biggest fear was that one day I would come home to the news that my son called him Dada.
Since I had the next two weeks off, we (Azzy, and I along with Olivia, Remy, and the baby) rented a minivan and made the cross-country trip. The four of us alternated between driving, sleeping and watching over the baby. As the result we arrived in Wisconsin in just under a day.
We were going to stay at the Holiday Inn motel across the movie theater, next to the place where I first found the entrance to “Azzy’s clan.”
Exhausted, my family unpacked and got settled. I walked across the street to pick up some Chinese takeout. When I returned Azzy and Remy were laying one of the two beds with the baby between them.
Remy sat up. "What did you get?"
"Everything on the menu that was vegan or could be made vegan. But being that this is Wisconsin that amounts to mixed vegetables, noodles and rice."
"No, being that you went to the cheap-ass truck stop restaurant instead of Postmates..." Remy grabbed one of the plastic bags, selecting a box of plain fried noodles.
"Does Postmates delivery even exist in Beloit?" Azzy asked, as she sat up with Lucas in her arms.
Remy shrugged. "You grew up here."
"But I'm a white trash hell-demon, remember? I was lucky if my dad let me have a rotten apple with my expired lunch meat sandwich. He certainly never ordered takeout from a website." Azzy sat on the edge of the bed as she moved the baby under her loose t-shirt to breastfeed.
Remy chuckled as he took a seat on the floor, at her feet. "My old man used to order take out all the time; Postmates, grubhub, doordash, you name it. I would get the food while he devoured the delivery person. He was the inspiration behind more than a few urban legends, or creepypastas or whatever."
That was when I witnessed something truly maddening. As Remy sat on the floor eating out of a takeout box with one hand. The other slipped under Azzy's shirt, to allow baby Lucas to caress his little fingers around Remy's tattooed knuckles.
When the baby was finished nursing Azzy rested Lucas on her lap as she ate her dinner. Remy proceeded to lay his head on my wife's lap, cuddling my son. Their dark hair blended into one shade. Azzy stroked Remy’s cheek.
I heard Olivia cough, which was odd since coughing with an electric voice box was painful.
I glanced at her with a glare.
She forced a smile. “Come on, they’re cute. Remy is like Lucas's older brother.”
“I guess.”
The next day, at around ten in the morning, early enough for the fields to be vacant, we walked until we found the hidden door.
Olivia reached for my hand. I could tell she was afraid. “Don’t worry, Azzy’s father is gone. We trust Azzy, right?”
Olivia nodded silently.
I knew she had every right to be afraid. The hellish place looked exactly the same as when Azzy’s father captured Olivia. I gripped my sister’s hand while Remy walked with Azzy, holding the sleeping baby Lucas in his arms.
Walking down the dirt hallway we passed people in clown masks. They were digging, expanding the tunnels. Further down there were people using cement, spackle and various other power tools to enforce the walls. I wondered why.
Down a large metal staircase lived the caterpillar, Azzy’s caterpillar. My family stood before the giant, towering, creature made of human limbs. Azzy stepped forward, reaching her arm into the mass of flesh. “Mom? It’s me.”
The mass of limbs parted. Azzy’s mother’s corpse drifted forward, like a puppet. Although her mouth was not moving there were zombie groans clearly emanating from her throat.
Baby Lucas opened his eyes. He cooed reaching his arms out to his grandmother.
I took a step back as Azzy’s mother’s arm reached out, touching Remy’s cheek.
Remy looked around awkwardly. “Uh, Azzy, Johnny, what do I do?”
The dead woman laughed, her face was frozen, unmoving but her voice echoed. “What a beautiful demon baby, the perfect little prince to unite two clans.”
“Two clans?” I muttered quietly.
Azzy’s mother turned to her. “My sweet daughter, there is so much of your father in you.”
Azzy appeared frozen in place.
“No… ” I bit my lip, shaking my head. "No, this can't be true!"
“No what?” Azzy asked. Her voice was trembling, it was clear she was trying to force herself to speak.
“Is the baby Remy’s?” I cried. I had been so afraid of Remy being called Dada but this was so much worse. This was a nightmare, this was hell. The baby had Azzy’s blue eyes with dark hair and light skin. My son didn’t look like me but it never crossed my mind that he looked like Remy. “Did you sleep with Remy?”
“No! Of course not!” Azzy's chest was heaving, it was clear she was struggling to avoid a full panic attack.
Remy slowly placed the baby on the ground. “I’m so sorry.”
Azzy looked as confused as I was. “Remy?”
“I’m sorry! It was during a bad time when I let my power take over me.”
“What did you do!” I screamed. My hands glowed red as I punched him in the face.
Remy fell to the ground. “My mind was all fucked up!” He stayed at his knees.
My hand moved to his throat and I began to choke him with a surreal supernatural strength.
I suddenly heard laughter. “The precious angel is all grown up.” It was Azzy’s father’s voice.
I looked at Olivia she was frozen in fear but Azzy ran to hug her. “It’s ok. My father is dead. I watched him die!”
“Funny thing about death: did Azzy tell any of you what she did with my remains? She added my body to the caterpillar!”
“Oh fuck.” I prayed to God he was joking. I turned to the massive collection of limbs, focusing on Azzy’s mother.
The corpse was looking around frantically, her limbs were trembling. Suddenly two ghostly hands gripped her chest, groping her decayed body in a sexual manner. “My soul is attached to the clan. I have waited so many years to meet my heir.”
“Remy?” I asked.
“No, I don’t want that foolish freak to have my power.” Azzy’s father laughed. “How does that song go?” He started to sing, “Johnny Angel, how I love you. You’re an angel to me…” He chuckled at his own joke. “Finished off the freak- with the blood of his death you will take your rightful place as the leader of my clan.”
Remy nodded at me. He closed his eyes as he kept silently apologizing.
All I could think of was when he could have done it. At work? At his apartment? Or did it happen at our apartment? I could picture a time when Remy and his boyfriend Lucas had been over for dinner. I left the apartment to go buy toilet paper. Lucas had gone with me to pick up more smokes. Did Remy rape my girlfriend in our bed?
“He did…” Azzy’s father’s voice echoed. “Taste his blood and see for yourself.”
I sank my nail into his neck, cutting into a tattoo of the word ‘Hope.’ How dare this bastard have the word ‘hope’ written on his neck? I licked the blood from my fingers, and closed my eyes.
I awoke in Azzy’s body. I could feel Remy’s muscular arms pinning me to the bed- my bed. “Remy?”
“I need this," he said in an animalistic groan. "I need you.”
“Come on,” Azzy said with a laugh. She was clearly too drunk or high to fight him off. “How about I go down on you, just like we used to do in junior high?”
“Nah, I want you.” Remy pinned her to the bed. “I always get what I want.”
Azzy’s body was frozen, like a corpse. Her head fell back, her eyes closed. Azzy’s spirit left her body. It was as if she was brain dead. I assumed this was some kind of self-preservation mechanism brought on by her powers.
But much to my horror, I could still feel everything. I felt Remy lower his sweatpants pulling out his weapon of choice. I could feel him inside me, Azzy, using her body, our body. When he was done he stripped Azzy naked and drew her a bath. He left but returned with her dress, strained with the curry sauce from that night’s dinner and casually dumped it in the hamper.
When she awoke Azzy was confused. She stood up and stretched her back, glancing at the dress in the hamper. The answer appeared to be a simple one: she got drunk, made a mess and went to take a bath. She shrugged and got out of the bath.
That was why she didn’t remember. Her body was protecting her mind.
I opened my eyes. Both of my hands were around Remy’s neck. My nails sank into his flesh, I didn’t want to choke him- I wanted to rip his head off. “What kind of person rapes their best friend?”
“The kind of sick demon freak who allowed his power to overrule his mind,” Remy said, his voice soft and quiet. “The kind of person who was too weak to fight to protect the people he cares about. ”
Suddenly I could feel wetness. Was it blood? I looked down at my hands. The moisture was Remy's tears.
“You should be crying.” I released his neck to punch him again, aiming to break his nose. “You're a real piece of work.”
Remy didn’t fight back. His body simply went limp.
I kicked him in the stomach over and over. “You should be in hell!”
That was when he coughed up blood. “I-I am in hell.”
"What can you offer in exchange for my mercy?"
"I don't deserve mercy. I’ve made too many mistakes. I don’t deserve to exist in this world.”
"Understatement of the century,” I muttered. My mind thought back to all of the f-ed up things Remy had done: forcing his boyfriend into an open relationship, giving him an std, and apparently raping my girlfriend/his best friend.
“Kill him,” Azzy’s father’s voice echoed in my ear. “You know Remy and my beloved daughter have killed for so much less. I do believe she even killed her store manager for being an unfair meanie, ha ha ha.”
I could feel hands gripping mine. I prayed they didn’t belong to Azzy’s father. He wanted me to kill, to give into the anger. Was I too weak to overpower him?
The hands were large and they felt comforting and warm. I could feel skin, veins, and a ring. They were my father’s hands. “You must Forgive,” he whispered. His voice was deep and soothing.
“Forgive?” The word choked my throat.
My father gripped my shoulder, turning my body to face him. “My son, you have done nothing but good in your life.”
“Yeah I’m Johnny the fucking loser, stuck with raising some a-hole’s kid!”
“The Lord blessed you with a strong heart.”
I shook my head, fighting back tears. "I’m not that strong."
"You are stronger then you realize. And that strength will set you free."
"Free?" I understood. I was still pissed, but I understood. I blinked a few times, bringing myself back to reality. Looking around I could see all of the clown demons staring at me, awaiting the conclusion of the show. I looked at Azzy and Olivia, and then took a deep breath in preparation for my scream, "I forgive you, I forgive all of you!"
The walls shook. "No!" Azzy's father roared.
"The sinners, the whores, the scam artists, the people who made really f-ed up mistakes: I forgive you all!
I heard my baby crying; MY baby, MY son. I picked him up from the ground, rocking his little body in my arms.
I could feel a woman's hand touch my arm. "You have wings."It was Olivia's voice, her real voice. Wings made of light emerged, wrapping around my shoulders.
"Do you forgive me?" I asked Olivia.
"For what?"
"The night you were kidnapped. You left with Azzy's dad and I just let you."
"And then you snuck into hell to save me," Olivia said as she stroked me cheek. "I was a stupid slut who went off with a hot guy- that mistake was all me. But you," her voice became even clearer as she gripped my hand, "You saved me. And you can save Remy."
"I don't know if I can."
Olivia smiled. "Do you remember the year we spent summer vacation doing community service up north? We were sorting trash and I asked 'why do we even bothered to recycle when the rest of the world is still killing the planet?'"
I chuckled, remembering the day. "A car had driven through a puddle, right in front of you. You looked ready to chase the guy down."
"Remember what you said to me?"
I nodded. "You can't fix the world, but you can take the first step."
A cold breeze shot through the room. Olivia and I were surrounded by light, separating us from the reality of the tunnels. I took a breath and reached out my hand. “I forgive you, Remy."
Remy looked at me, then at Azzy.
Olivia grabbed Azzy by the arm, pulling her into the light. "Stand with us!"
Baby Lucas started to cry.
I knelt down to Remy's level. "I want you in my son’s life. My Lucas will know forgives, he will know mercy. But most importantly he will know love. I want you to live as part of my family." I placed the baby in his arms. “I want to start over, here, in Wisconsin.”
Remy accepted the baby, following me into the light. When my entire family was safe we were suddenly teleported back to the fields. I breathed a sigh of relief, then watched as my wings faded.
Olivia tapped my shoulder. "What do you think?"
"About what?"
She motioned to Azzy and Remy. The former friends were staring each other down. Remy held the baby close, his hands shivering.
And Azzy- well she looked ready to murder him. "Johnny," she said in a trembling voice. "Take the baby and meet me back at the hotel."
I threw my arms around Azzy, holding her close. "Azzy, listen to me. This is a new start, for all of us."
"Yeah." Azzy swallowed hard, as she wiped away tears. "A new start."
(to be concluded...)
Part 5-
https://www.reddit.com/nosleep/comments/8rt255/caterpillar_5_ever_afte
https://dourdan.wordpress.com/
submitted by dourdan to nosleep [link] [comments]


2018.06.13 07:27 dourdan Caterpillar 4: Trial by Fire

part 1 https://www.reddit.com/Wholesomenosleep/comments/8kgviz/caterpilla
part 2 https://www.reddit.com/Wholesomenosleep/comments/8m2ubg/caterpillar_2_transformation/
part 3 https://www.reddit.com/Wholesomenosleep/comments/8o4v1a/caterpillar_3_love_in_bloom/
I married Azzy in a courthouse on a rainy afternoon. The love of my life wore a fifty dollar dress, bought at Target with her employee discount, and a veil she made herself using various thrift store finds. I stroked her long black hair, looking into her sky blue eyes. My bride looked like a Disney princess.
My sister Olivia was by my side, struggling to balance on her prosthetic leg while holding my son with her prosthetic arm.
Baby Lucas wailed, his little limbs flailing.
"Give him to me," said Remy. My son seemed to cry when held by anyone other than Azzy's gay best friend. The Cajun-Hawaiian playboy, with his long hair and surfer looks, was working on turning his life around. After the untimely death of his boyfriend he quit his job, staying at MY apartment full time to watch over the baby (who may or may not be the reincarnated soul of his partner.)
As for Azzy, after she had the baby she took advantage of Target's maternity leave. She told me she was unsure if she even wanted to go back to being a cashier. I advised her to keep her options open, just in case she changed her mind after the six months were up. I loved her, I would support her in whatever she chose. But as I kissed my bride, my eyes couldn't help but glance towards Remy.
It bugged me, the fact that Azzy and Remy had so much time to spend together. I liked that she was keeping him on the straight and narrow. Even stripped of his powers he had not resorted to drugs or alcohol. That's something to be admired, right?
Together they'd helped Olivia move into the halfway house where she was learning to live independently with one arm, one leg and no tongue. We were all friends, family; at the time, that was all that mattered.
After the ceremony we all headed back to my apartment to order takeout from the closest vegan restaurant.
“I think we should go back to Wisconsin, as a family,” Azzy suggested.
I glanced up from my veggie burger. “Why?”
“It’s our culture, our heritage,” she pointed out. Olivia and Remy nodded in agreement.
“Azzy, my parents are dead, your parents are a zombie and a demon.” It needed to be said.
“Your point?” Remy asked as he held my infant son in his arms.
“Shut up Nanny Man-bun,” I muttered. “You don’t get a vote!"
Remy wore his dark hair pulled into a trendy hipster bun. “Azzy wants little Lucas to meet his extended family. I don’t see what the big deal is.”
“Yeah,” Olivia added, pressing a finger to her electronic voice box. “It’s been years since we visited Mom’s grave and I’ve never even seen Dad’s grave.”
"They're the same grave," I groaned, frustrated. The night Lucas was born I had asked Azzy if she loved me enough to relinquish her powers, her answer was no. Now I knew why- Wisconsin. The Midwest was the source of her powers, her demon father’s clan, which was now her clan. She told me it was selfish to ask her to choose between me and her family. Funny, I thought I was her family.
“You can take a week off of work,” Azzy said as she casually took a sip of Sprite. “And I have a few more weeks of maternity leave.”
Remy and Olivia were awaiting a reply. I was outnumbered. “Fine, I’ll ask.” I actually was entitled to paternity leave, but I had declined since Azzy had Remy to help her with the baby.
The next day I talked to my supervisor, at the hospital, about taking leave. But the schedule had already been made and I apparently had the week off. “What gives?” I asked.
“Your wife spoke to me earlier this week,” Ms Conners replied. She was an elderly woman, close to retirement age.
"She went behind my back?" I sighed and rolled my eyes. “Of course she did.”
“Hey, I did you a favor. You are going to take the next two weeks off. Or do you really want that hippy-freak raising your kid?”
She wasn’t wrong. The baby adored Remy. Secretly, my biggest fear was that one day I would come home to the news that my son called him Dada.
Since I had the next two weeks off, we (Azzy, and I along with Olivia, Remy, and the baby) rented a minivan and made the cross-country trip. The four of us alternated between driving, sleeping and watching over the baby. As the result we arrived in Wisconsin in just under a day.
We were going to stay at the Holiday Inn motel across the movie theater, next to the place where I first found the entrance to “Azzy’s clan.”
Exhausted, my family unpacked and got settled. I walked across the street to pick up some Chinese takeout. When I returned Azzy and Remy were laying one of the two beds with the baby between them.
Remy sat up. "What did you get?"
"Everything on the menu that was vegan or could be made vegan. But being that this is Wisconsin that amounts to mixed vegetables, noodles and rice."
"No, being that you went to the cheap-ass truck stop restaurant instead of Postmates..." Remy grabbed one of the plastic bags, selecting a box of plain fried noodles.
"Does Postmates delivery even exist in Beloit?" Azzy asked, as she sat up with Lucas in her arms.
Remy shrugged. "You grew up here."
"But I'm a white trash hell-demon, remember? I was lucky if my dad let me have a rotten apple with my expired lunch meat sandwich. He certainly never ordered takeout from a website." Azzy sat on the edge of the bed as she moved the baby under her loose t-shirt to breastfeed.
Remy chuckled as he took a seat on the floor, at her feet. "My old man used to order take out all the time; Postmates, grubhub, doordash, you name it. I would get the food while he devoured the delivery person. He was the inspiration behind more than a few urban legends, or creepypastas or whatever."
That was when I witnessed something truly maddening. As Remy sat on the floor eating out of a takeout box with one hand. The other slipped under Azzy's shirt, to allow baby Lucas to caress his little fingers around Remy's tattooed knuckles.
When the baby was finished nursing Azzy rested Lucas on her lap as she ate her dinner. Remy proceeded to lay his head on my wife's lap, cuddling my son. Their dark hair blended into one shade. Azzy stroked Remy’s cheek.
I heard Olivia cough, which was odd since coughing with an electric voice box was painful.
I glanced at her with a glare.
She forced a smile. “Come on, they’re cute. Remy is like Lucas's older brother.”
“I guess.”
The next day, at around ten in the morning, early enough for the fields to be vacant, we walked until we found the hidden door.
Olivia reached for my hand. I could tell she was afraid. “Don’t worry, Azzy’s father is gone. We trust Azzy, right?”
Olivia nodded silently.
I knew she had every right to be afraid. The hellish place looked exactly the same as when Azzy’s father captured Olivia. I gripped my sister’s hand while Remy walked with Azzy, holding the sleeping baby Lucas in his arms.
Walking down the dirt hallway we passed people in clown masks. They were digging, expanding the tunnels. Further down there were people using cement, spackle and various other power tools to enforce the walls. I wondered why.
Down a large metal staircase lived the caterpillar, Azzy’s caterpillar. My family stood before the giant, towering, creature made of human limbs. Azzy stepped forward, reaching her arm into the mass of flesh. “Mom? It’s me.”
The mass of limbs parted. Azzy’s mother’s corpse drifted forward, like a puppet. Although her mouth was not moving there were zombie groans clearly emanating from her throat.
Baby Lucas opened his eyes. He cooed reaching his arms out to his grandmother.
I took a step back as Azzy’s mother’s arm reached out, touching Remy’s cheek.
Remy looked around awkwardly. “Uh, Azzy, Johnny, what do I do?”
The dead woman laughed, her face was frozen, unmoving but her voice echoed. “What a beautiful demon baby, the perfect little prince to unite two clans.”
“Two clans?” I muttered quietly.
Azzy’s mother turned to her. “My sweet daughter, there is so much of your father in you.”
Azzy appeared frozen in place.
“No… ” I bit my lip, shaking my head. "No, this can't be true!"
“No what?” Azzy asked. Her voice was trembling, it was clear she was trying to force herself to speak.
“Is the baby Remy’s?” I cried. I had been so afraid of Remy being called Dada but this was so much worse. This was a nightmare, this was hell. The baby had Azzy’s blue eyes with dark hair and light skin. My son didn’t look like me but it never crossed my mind that he looked like Remy. “Did you sleep with Remy?”
“No! Of course not!” Azzy's chest was heaving, it was clear she was struggling to avoid a full panic attack.
Remy slowly placed the baby on the ground. “I’m so sorry.”
Azzy looked as confused as I was. “Remy?”
“I’m sorry! It was during a bad time when I let my power take over me.”
“What did you do!” I screamed. My hands glowed red as I punched him in the face.
Remy fell to the ground. “My mind was all fucked up!” He stayed at his knees.
My hand moved to his throat and I began to choke him with a surreal supernatural strength.
I suddenly heard laughter. “The precious angel is all grown up.” It was Azzy’s father’s voice.
I looked at Olivia she was frozen in fear but Azzy ran to hug her. “It’s ok. My father is dead. I watched him die!”
“Funny thing about death: did Azzy tell any of you what she did with my remains? She added my body to the caterpillar!”
“Oh fuck.” I prayed to God he was joking. I turned to the massive collection of limbs, focusing on Azzy’s mother.
The corpse was looking around frantically, her limbs were trembling. Suddenly two ghostly hands gripped her chest, groping her decayed body in a sexual manner. “My soul is attached to the clan. I have waited so many years to meet my heir.”
“Remy?” I asked.
“No, I don’t want that foolish freak to have my power.” Azzy’s father laughed. “How does that song go?” He started to sing, “Johnny Angel, how I love you. You’re an angel to me…” He chuckled at his own joke. “Finished off the freak- with the blood of his death you will take your rightful place as the leader of my clan.”
Remy nodded at me. He closed his eyes as he kept silently apologizing.
All I could think of was when he could have done it. At work? At his apartment? Or did it happen at our apartment? I could picture a time when Remy and his boyfriend Lucas had been over for dinner. I left the apartment to go buy toilet paper. Lucas had gone with me to pick up more smokes. Did Remy rape my girlfriend in our bed?
“He did…” Azzy’s father’s voice echoed. “Taste his blood and see for yourself.”
I sank my nail into his neck, cutting into a tattoo of the word ‘Hope.’ How dare this bastard have the word ‘hope’ written on his neck? I licked the blood from my fingers, and closed my eyes.
I awoke in Azzy’s body. I could feel Remy’s muscular arms pinning me to the bed- my bed. “Remy?”
“I need this," he said in an animalistic groan. "I need you.”
“Come on,” Azzy said with a laugh. She was clearly too drunk or high to fight him off. “How about I go down on you, just like we used to do in junior high?”
“Nah, I want you.” Remy pinned her to the bed. “I always get what I want.”
Azzy’s body was frozen, like a corpse. Her head fell back, her eyes closed. Azzy’s spirit left her body. It was as if she was brain dead. I assumed this was some kind of self-preservation mechanism brought on by her powers.
But much to my horror, I could still feel everything. I felt Remy lower his sweatpants pulling out his weapon of choice. I could feel him inside me, Azzy, using her body, our body. When he was done he stripped Azzy naked and drew her a bath. He left but returned with her dress, strained with the curry sauce from that night’s dinner and casually dumped it in the hamper.
When she awoke Azzy was confused. She stood up and stretched her back, glancing at the dress in the hamper. The answer appeared to be a simple one: she got drunk, made a mess and went to take a bath. She shrugged and got out of the bath.
That was why she didn’t remember. Her body was protecting her mind.
I opened my eyes. Both of my hands were around Remy’s neck. My nails sank into his flesh, I didn’t want to choke him- I wanted to rip his head off. “What kind of person rapes their best friend?”
“The kind of sick demon freak who allowed his power to overrule his mind,” Remy said, his voice soft and quiet. “The kind of person who was too weak to fight to protect the people he cares about. ”
Suddenly I could feel wetness. Was it blood? I looked down at my hands. The moisture was Remy's tears.
“You should be crying.” I released his neck to punch him again, aiming to break his nose. “You're a real piece of work.”
Remy didn’t fight back. His body simply went limp.
I kicked him in the stomach over and over. “You should be in hell!”
That was when he coughed up blood. “I-I am in hell.”
"What can you offer in exchange for my mercy?"
"I don't deserve mercy. I’ve made too many mistakes. I don’t deserve to exist in this world.”
"Understatement of the century,” I muttered. My mind thought back to all of the f-ed up things Remy had done: forcing his boyfriend into an open relationship, giving him an std, and apparently raping my girlfriend/his best friend.
“Kill him,” Azzy’s father’s voice echoed in my ear. “You know Remy and my beloved daughter have killed for so much less. I do believe she even killed her store manager for being an unfair meanie, ha ha ha.”
I could feel hands gripping mine. I prayed they didn’t belong to Azzy’s father. He wanted me to kill, to give into the anger. Was I too weak to overpower him?
The hands were large and they felt comforting and warm. I could feel skin, veins, and a ring. They were my father’s hands. “You must Forgive,” he whispered. His voice was deep and soothing.
“Forgive?” The word choked my throat.
My father gripped my shoulder, turning my body to face him. “My son, you have done nothing but good in your life.”
“Yeah I’m Johnny the fucking loser, stuck with raising some a-hole’s kid!”
“The Lord blessed you with a strong heart.”
I shook my head, fighting back tears. "I’m not that strong."
"You are stronger then you realize. And that strength will set you free."
"Free?" I understood. I was still pissed, but I understood. I blinked a few times, bringing myself back to reality. Looking around I could see all of the clown demons staring at me, awaiting the conclusion of the show. I looked at Azzy and Olivia, and then took a deep breath in preparation for my scream, "I forgive you, I forgive all of you!"
The walls shook. "No!" Azzy's father roared.
"The sinners, the whores, the scam artists, the people who made really f-ed up mistakes: I forgive you all!
I heard my baby crying; MY baby, MY son. I picked him up from the ground, rocking his little body in my arms.
I could feel a woman's hand touch my arm. "You have wings."It was Olivia's voice, her real voice. Wings made of light emerged, wrapping around my shoulders.
"Do you forgive me?" I asked Olivia.
"For what?"
"The night you were kidnapped. You left with Azzy's dad and I just let you."
"And then you snuck into hell to save me," Olivia said as she stroked me cheek. "I was a stupid slut who went off with a hot guy- that mistake was all me. But you," her voice became even clearer as she gripped my hand, "You saved me. And you can save Remy."
"I don't know if I can."
Olivia smiled. "Do you remember the year we spent summer vacation doing community service up north? We were sorting trash and I asked 'why do we even bothered to recycle when the rest of the world is still killing the planet?'"
I chuckled, remembering the day. "A car had driven through a puddle, right in front of you. You looked ready to chase the guy down."
"Remember what you said to me?"
I nodded. "You can't fix the world, but you can take the first step."
A cold breeze shot through the room. Olivia and I were surrounded by light, separating us from the reality of the tunnels. I took a breath and reached out my hand. “I forgive you, Remy."
Remy looked at me, then at Azzy.
Olivia grabbed Azzy by the arm, pulling her into the light. "Stand with us!"
Baby Lucas started to cry.
I knelt down to Remy's level. "I want you in my son’s life. My Lucas will know forgives, he will know mercy. But most importantly he will know love. I want you to live as part of my family." I placed the baby in his arms. “I want to start over, here, in Wisconsin.”
Remy accepted the baby, following me into the light. When my entire family was safe we were suddenly teleported back to the fields. I breathed a sigh of relief, then watched as my wings faded.
Olivia tapped my shoulder. "What do you think?"
"About what?"
She motioned to Azzy and Remy. The former friends were staring each other down. Remy held the baby close, his hands shivering.
And Azzy- well she looked ready to murder him. "Johnny," she said in a trembling voice. "Take the baby and meet me back at the hotel."
I threw my arms around Azzy, holding her close. "Azzy, listen to me. This is a new start, for all of us."
"Yeah." Azzy swallowed hard, as she wiped away tears. "A new start."
(to be concluded...)
Part 5-
https://www.reddit.com/Wholesomenosleep/comments/8rt44g/caterpillar_5_ever_afte
https://dourdan.wordpress.com/
submitted by dourdan to Wholesomenosleep [link] [comments]


2018.06.13 07:19 dourdan Caterpillar 4: Trial by Fire

part 4 to
https://www.reddit.com/clancypasta/comments/8o4t38/caterpillar_3_love_in_bloom/
Caterpillar 4: Trial by Fire
I married Azzy in a courthouse on a rainy afternoon. The love of my life wore a fifty dollar dress, bought at Target with her employee discount, and a veil she made herself using various thrift store finds. I stroked her long black hair, looking into her sky blue eyes. My bride looked like a Disney princess.
My sister Olivia was by my side, struggling to balance on her prosthetic leg while holding my son with her prosthetic arm.
Baby Lucas wailed, his little limbs flailing.
"Give him to me," said Remy. My son seemed to cry when held by anyone other than Azzy's gay best friend. The Cajun-Hawaiian playboy, with his long hair and surfer looks, was working on turning his life around. After the untimely death of his boyfriend he quit his job, staying at MY apartment full time to watch over the baby (who may or may not be the reincarnated soul of his partner.)
As for Azzy, after she had the baby she took advantage of Target's maternity leave. She told me she was unsure if she even wanted to go back to being a cashier. I advised her to keep her options open, just in case she changed her mind after the six months were up. I loved her, I would support her in whatever she chose. But as I kissed my bride, my eyes couldn't help but glance towards Remy.
It bugged me, the fact that Azzy and Remy had so much time to spend together. I liked that she was keeping him on the straight and narrow. Even stripped of his powers he had not resorted to drugs or alcohol. That's something to be admired, right?
Together they'd helped Olivia move into the halfway house where she was learning to live independently with one arm, one leg and no tongue. We were all friends, family; at the time, that was all that mattered.
After the ceremony we all headed back to my apartment to order takeout from the closest vegan restaurant.
“I think we should go back to Wisconsin, as a family,” Azzy suggested.
I glanced up from my veggie burger. “Why?”
“It’s our culture, our heritage,” she pointed out. Olivia and Remy nodded in agreement.
“Azzy, my parents are dead, your parents are a zombie and a demon.” It needed to be said.
“Your point?” Remy asked as he held my infant son in his arms.
“Shut up Nanny Man-bun,” I muttered. “You don’t get a vote!"
Remy wore his dark hair pulled into a trendy hipster bun. “Azzy wants little Lucas to meet his extended family. I don’t see what the big deal is.”
“Yeah,” Olivia added, pressing a finger to her electronic voice box. “It’s been years since we visited Mom’s grave and I’ve never even seen Dad’s grave.”
"They're the same grave," I groaned, frustrated. The night Lucas was born I had asked Azzy if she loved me enough to relinquish her powers, her answer was no. Now I knew why- Wisconsin. The Midwest was the source of her powers, her demon father’s clan, which was now her clan. She told me it was selfish to ask her to choose between me and her family. Funny, I thought I was her family.
“You can take a week off of work,” Azzy said as she casually took a sip of Sprite. “And I have a few more weeks of maternity leave.”
Remy and Olivia were awaiting a reply. I was outnumbered. “Fine, I’ll ask.” I actually was entitled to paternity leave, but I had declined since Azzy had Remy to help her with the baby.
The next day I talked to my supervisor, at the hospital, about taking leave. But the schedule had already been made and I apparently had the week off. “What gives?” I asked.
“Your wife spoke to me earlier this week,” Ms Conners replied. She was an elderly woman, close to retirement age.
"She went behind my back?" I sighed and rolled my eyes. “Of course she did.”
“Hey, I did you a favor. You are going to take the next two weeks off. Or do you really want that hippy-freak raising your kid?”
She wasn’t wrong. The baby adored Remy. Secretly, my biggest fear was that one day I would come home to the news that my son called him Dada.
Since I had the next two weeks off, we (Azzy, and I along with Olivia, Remy, and the baby) rented a minivan and made the cross-country trip. The four of us alternated between driving, sleeping and watching over the baby. As the result we arrived in Wisconsin in just under a day.
We were going to stay at the Holiday Inn motel across the movie theater, next to the place where I first found the entrance to “Azzy’s clan.”
Exhausted, my family unpacked and got settled. I walked across the street to pick up some Chinese takeout. When I returned Azzy and Remy were laying one of the two beds with the baby between them.
Remy sat up. "What did you get?"
"Everything on the menu that was vegan or could be made vegan. But being that this is Wisconsin that amounts to mixed vegetables, noodles and rice."
"No, being that you went to the cheap-ass truck stop restaurant instead of Postmates..." Remy grabbed one of the plastic bags, selecting a box of plain fried noodles.
"Does Postmates delivery even exist in Beloit?" Azzy asked, as she sat up with Lucas in her arms.
Remy shrugged. "You grew up here."
"But I'm a white trash hell-demon, remember? I was lucky if my dad let me have a rotten apple with my expired lunch meat sandwich. He certainly never ordered takeout from a website." Azzy sat on the edge of the bed as she moved the baby under her loose t-shirt to breastfeed.
Remy chuckled as he took a seat on the floor, at her feet. "My old man used to order take out all the time; Postmates, grubhub, doordash, you name it. I would get the food while he devoured the delivery person. He was the inspiration behind more than a few urban legends, or creepypastas or whatever."
That was when I witnessed something truly maddening. As Remy sat on the floor eating out of a takeout box with one hand. The other slipped under Azzy's shirt, to allow baby Lucas to caress his little fingers around Remy's tattooed knuckles.
When the baby was finished nursing Azzy rested Lucas on her lap as she ate her dinner. Remy proceeded to lay his head on my wife's lap, cuddling my son. Their dark hair blended into one shade. Azzy stroked Remy’s cheek.
I heard Olivia cough, which was odd since coughing with an electric voice box was painful.
I glanced at her with a glare.
She forced a smile. “Come on, they’re cute. Remy is like Lucas's older brother.”
“I guess.”
The next day, at around ten in the morning, early enough for the fields to be vacant, we walked until we found the hidden door.
Olivia reached for my hand. I could tell she was afraid. “Don’t worry, Azzy’s father is gone. We trust Azzy, right?”
Olivia nodded silently.
I knew she had every right to be afraid. The hellish place looked exactly the same as when Azzy’s father captured Olivia. I gripped my sister’s hand while Remy walked with Azzy, holding the sleeping baby Lucas in his arms.
Walking down the dirt hallway we passed people in clown masks. They were digging, expanding the tunnels. Further down there were people using cement, spackle and various other power tools to enforce the walls. I wondered why.
Down a large metal staircase lived the caterpillar, Azzy’s caterpillar. My family stood before the giant, towering, creature made of human limbs. Azzy stepped forward, reaching her arm into the mass of flesh. “Mom? It’s me.”
The mass of limbs parted. Azzy’s mother’s corpse drifted forward, like a puppet. Although her mouth was not moving there were zombie groans clearly emanating from her throat.
Baby Lucas opened his eyes. He cooed reaching his arms out to his grandmother.
I took a step back as Azzy’s mother’s arm reached out, touching Remy’s cheek.
Remy looked around awkwardly. “Uh, Azzy, Johnny, what do I do?”
The dead woman laughed, her face was frozen, unmoving but her voice echoed. “What a beautiful demon baby, the perfect little prince to unite two clans.”
“Two clans?” I muttered quietly.
Azzy’s mother turned to her. “My sweet daughter, there is so much of your father in you.”
Azzy appeared frozen in place.
“No… ” I bit my lip, shaking my head. "No, this can't be true!"
“No what?” Azzy asked. Her voice was trembling, it was clear she was trying to force herself to speak.
“Is the baby Remy’s?” I cried. I had been so afraid of Remy being called Dada but this was so much worse. This was a nightmare, this was hell. The baby had Azzy’s blue eyes with dark hair and light skin. My son didn’t look like me but it never crossed my mind that he looked like Remy. “Did you sleep with Remy?”
“No! Of course not!” Azzy's chest was heaving, it was clear she was struggling to avoid a full panic attack.
Remy slowly placed the baby on the ground. “I’m so sorry.”
Azzy looked as confused as I was. “Remy?”
“I’m sorry! It was during a bad time when I let my power take over me.”
“What did you do!” I screamed. My hands glowed red as I punched him in the face.
Remy fell to the ground. “My mind was all fucked up!” He stayed at his knees.
My hand moved to his throat and I began to choke him with a surreal supernatural strength.
I suddenly heard laughter. “The precious angel is all grown up.” It was Azzy’s father’s voice.
I looked at Olivia she was frozen in fear but Azzy ran to hug her. “It’s ok. My father is dead. I watched him die!”
“Funny thing about death: did Azzy tell any of you what she did with my remains? She added my body to the caterpillar!”
“Oh fuck.” I prayed to God he was joking. I turned to the massive collection of limbs, focusing on Azzy’s mother.
The corpse was looking around frantically, her limbs were trembling. Suddenly two ghostly hands gripped her chest, groping her decayed body in a sexual manner. “My soul is attached to the clan. I have waited so many years to meet my heir.”
“Remy?” I asked.
“No, I don’t want that foolish freak to have my power.” Azzy’s father laughed. “How does that song go?” He started to sing, “Johnny Angel, how I love you. You’re an angel to me…” He chuckled at his own joke. “Finished off the freak- with the blood of his death you will take your rightful place as the leader of my clan.”
Remy nodded at me. He closed his eyes as he kept silently apologizing.
All I could think of was when he could have done it. At work? At his apartment? Or did it happen at our apartment? I could picture a time when Remy and his boyfriend Lucas had been over for dinner. I left the apartment to go buy toilet paper. Lucas had gone with me to pick up more smokes. Did Remy rape my girlfriend in our bed?
“He did…” Azzy’s father’s voice echoed. “Taste his blood and see for yourself.”
I sank my nail into his neck, cutting into a tattoo of the word ‘Hope.’ How dare this bastard have the word ‘hope’ written on his neck? I licked the blood from my fingers, and closed my eyes.
I awoke in Azzy’s body. I could feel Remy’s muscular arms pinning me to the bed- my bed. “Remy?”
“I need this," he said in an animalistic groan. "I need you.”
“Come on,” Azzy said with a laugh. She was clearly too drunk or high to fight him off. “How about I go down on you, just like we used to do in junior high?”
“Nah, I want you.” Remy pinned her to the bed. “I always get what I want.”
Azzy’s body was frozen, like a corpse. Her head fell back, her eyes closed. Azzy’s spirit left her body. It was as if she was brain dead. I assumed this was some kind of self-preservation mechanism brought on by her powers.
But much to my horror, I could still feel everything. I felt Remy lower his sweatpants pulling out his weapon of choice. I could feel him inside me, Azzy, using her body, our body. When he was done he stripped Azzy naked and drew her a bath. He left but returned with her dress, strained with the curry sauce from that night’s dinner and casually dumped it in the hamper.
When she awoke Azzy was confused. She stood up and stretched her back, glancing at the dress in the hamper. The answer appeared to be a simple one: she got drunk, made a mess and went to take a bath. She shrugged and got out of the bath.
That was why she didn’t remember. Her body was protecting her mind.
I opened my eyes. Both of my hands were around Remy’s neck. My nails sank into his flesh, I didn’t want to choke him- I wanted to rip his head off. “What kind of person rapes their best friend?”
“The kind of sick demon freak who allowed his power to overrule his mind,” Remy said, his voice soft and quiet. “The kind of person who was too weak to fight to protect the people he cares about. ”
Suddenly I could feel wetness. Was it blood? I looked down at my hands. The moisture was Remy's tears.
“You should be crying.” I released his neck to punch him again, aiming to break his nose. “You're a real piece of work.”
Remy didn’t fight back. His body simply went limp.
I kicked him in the stomach over and over. “You should be in hell!”
That was when he coughed up blood. “I-I am in hell.”
"What can you offer in exchange for my mercy?"
"I don't deserve mercy. I’ve made too many mistakes. I don’t deserve to exist in this world.”
"Understatement of the century,” I muttered. My mind thought back to all of the f-ed up things Remy had done: forcing his boyfriend into an open relationship, giving him an std, and apparently raping my girlfriend/his best friend.
“Kill him,” Azzy’s father’s voice echoed in my ear. “You know Remy and my beloved daughter have killed for so much less. I do believe she even killed her store manager for being an unfair meanie, ha ha ha.”
I could feel hands gripping mine. I prayed they didn’t belong to Azzy’s father. He wanted me to kill, to give into the anger. Was I too weak to overpower him?
The hands were large and they felt comforting and warm. I could feel skin, veins, and a ring. They were my father’s hands. “You must Forgive,” he whispered. His voice was deep and soothing.
“Forgive?” The word choked my throat.
My father gripped my shoulder, turning my body to face him. “My son, you have done nothing but good in your life.”
“Yeah I’m Johnny the fucking loser, stuck with raising some a-hole’s kid!”
“The Lord blessed you with a strong heart.”
I shook my head, fighting back tears. "I’m not that strong."
"You are stronger then you realize. And that strength will set you free."
"Free?" I understood. I was still pissed, but I understood. I blinked a few times, bringing myself back to reality. Looking around I could see all of the clown demons staring at me, awaiting the conclusion of the show. I looked at Azzy and Olivia, and then took a deep breath in preparation for my scream, "I forgive you, I forgive all of you!"
The walls shook. "No!" Azzy's father roared.
"The sinners, the whores, the scam artists, the people who made really f-ed up mistakes: I forgive you all!
I heard my baby crying; MY baby, MY son. I picked him up from the ground, rocking his little body in my arms.
I could feel a woman's hand touch my arm. "You have wings."It was Olivia's voice, her real voice. Wings made of light emerged, wrapping around my shoulders.
"Do you forgive me?" I asked Olivia.
"For what?"
"The night you were kidnapped. You left with Azzy's dad and I just let you."
"And then you snuck into hell to save me," Olivia said as she stroked me cheek. "I was a stupid slut who went off with a hot guy- that mistake was all me. But you," her voice became even clearer as she gripped my hand, "You saved me. And you can save Remy."
"I don't know if I can."
Olivia smiled. "Do you remember the year we spent summer vacation doing community service up north? We were sorting trash and I asked 'why do we even bothered to recycle when the rest of the world is still killing the planet?'"
I chuckled, remembering the day. "A car had driven through a puddle, right in front of you. You looked ready to chase the guy down."
"Remember what you said to me?"
I nodded. "You can't fix the world, but you can take the first step."
A cold breeze shot through the room. Olivia and I were surrounded by light, separating us from the reality of the tunnels. I took a breath and reached out my hand. “I forgive you, Remy."
Remy looked at me, then at Azzy.
Olivia grabbed Azzy by the arm, pulling her into the light. "Stand with us!"
Baby Lucas started to cry.
I knelt down to Remy's level. "I want you in my son’s life. My Lucas will know forgives, he will know mercy. But most importantly he will know love. I want you to live as part of my family." I placed the baby in his arms. “I want to start over, here, in Wisconsin.”
Remy accepted the baby, following me into the light. When my entire family was safe we were suddenly teleported back to the fields. I breathed a sigh of relief, then watched as my wings faded.
Olivia tapped my shoulder. "What do you think?"
"About what?"
She motioned to Azzy and Remy. The former friends were staring each other down. Remy held the baby close, his hands shivering.
And Azzy- well she looked ready to murder him. "Johnny," she said in a trembling voice. "Take the baby and meet me back at the hotel."
I threw my arms around Azzy, holding her close. "Azzy, listen to me. This is a new start, for all of us."
"Yeah." Azzy swallowed hard, as she wiped away tears. "A new start."
(to be concluded...)
https://dourdan.wordpress.com/
submitted by dourdan to clancypasta [link] [comments]


2018.06.03 02:25 dourdan Caterpillar 3: Love in Bloom

part 1 https://www.reddit.com/Wholesomenosleep/comments/8kgviz/caterpilla
part 2 https://www.reddit.com/Wholesomenosleep/comments/8m2ubg/caterpillar_2_transformation/
I stood in front of the mirror looking at the black and gray tattoo on my tanned, muscular chest. I was still in awe of how cut my body was. This was a physique that would cost most guys hundreds of gym hours and gallons of protein powder.
The way the tattoo wrapped around my entire chest was also nothing short of impressive. The massive image still reminded me of a landscape from the show ‘Joy of painting.’ I watched it all the time as a kid. Bob Ross, the kind old man would always start with a simple concept, and then create an image from his mind, or rather his memory. I knew that he lived in Alaska when he served in the military.
I traced my hand down a pine tree that went from my left pectoral to my ribs.
I closed my eyes as I felt my beautiful fiancée’s hand doing the same. Azzy had done this to me; this was her mark. I now belonged to her: mind, body, and soul.
“What are you thinking about, Johnny?” Azzy whispered.
“A lot of things,” I replied with a shrug.
“Things like- finalizing your med school application?”
I had told Azzy I didn’t want to start medical school until after the wedding. I sent in the application along with my transcripts. I even talked to an academic advisor. With my work experience I was pretty much guaranteed a place. But I loved my job as a nurse and, if I’m being honest, I was a little scared of change. I placed my hand on Azzy’s porcelain skin, caressing her elegant fingers. “I want to take you to Alaska.”
“For the honeymoon?” she asked with a chuckle.
I could feel her long black hair dripping wet from the shower.
We had been planning a small, courthouse wedding. The honeymoon would likely be at a local hotel. “Maybe next summer.”
"Yeah, maybe." Azzy kissed my shoulder as she pulled on her red t-shirt for work.
“How are things at Target?” I asked.
It had been a little over a month since Azzy dismembered her supervisor and then put Remy, her long-haired surfer friend, in the vacant management position. “Remy’s a total flirt, but at least he’s not the horrible bitch that Jasmine was.”
“Does he actually get any work done?”
“Yes, he’s a great manager. Customer complaints have been down by sixty percent.”
“Because he hits on anything with a pulse, or because they’re all dead?” I muttered.
I suddenly felt a tree branch touch my back. Azzy had lifted her shirt to extend her leaf-covered wings. “I can hit a lot harder.”
“Sorry, I know he’s your friend.”
Her wings retracted. “Remy has been through a lot. He deserves some compassion.”
“I know, I know.” I turned to my closet to get dressed for work. “That’s why he’s lucky to have a guy like Lucas.” Remy’s boyfriend was the one part of him that I could stand because at times, Lucas seemed to be as sick of Remy as I was. When we would eat dinner at their luxurious downtown Los Angeles apartment, Remy would spend the entire evening drunk or stoned.
Lucas and I would chat on the fire escape, united in the fact that we were both humans trying to make it work with our fairy-demon partners. Lucas told me about how Remy was obsessed with going to clubs, nightclubs, strip clubs (for both genders) even sex clubs. He would get drunk and high, to the point of showing off his plant-based wings. And it would fall to his thin, blond boyfriend to attempt to drag Remy’s ass to the car before the other messed up people tried to tear off chunks of his body.
A week ago, at our last “dinner party” I tried to comfort Lucas. Remy had only been in California for a little over a month, after spending years in Nebraska. It was possible this was just a phase. “Cajun- Hawaiian fuckboy,” I muttered.
That got a smile, even as Lucas held his cigarette with thing trembling fingers. He had told me the story of Remy’s lineage. His father was a Cajun demon from the Louisiana bayou. He relocated to Hawaii, for a change of scenery and to feed on unsuspecting tourists. That was where he met, kidnapped, impregnated and subsequently murdered a young Hawaiian girl.
Remy never knew his mother: yet another reason to pity him. But I pitied Lucas more.
“He parades me around like a trophy,” Lucas sighed as he smoked cigarette after cigarette. “Remy made me; he paid for my degree, even got me my dream job.”
“First of all,” I said as I attempted to move downwind of the secondhand smoke. “You told me that Remy networked you, your dream job by screwing someone’s secretary.
“He met the CEO’s son at an orgy.”
Of course he did. "And Remy may have paid for your degree with his daddy’s money but you were the one who graduated from UCLA.”
Lucas was smiling, but it was hard to tell if his joy was genuine or if his spirit was just so broken all he could do was laugh at his situation. "I miss him."
"Remy?"
“We don’t talk much anymore.” I watched Lucas turned to look in the window at Remy smoking weed while Azzy laughed. “But no matter what, I love him.”
“Why?” I muttered to out loud to myself. I knew it wasn't my place to judge someone else’s relationship but to me, Remy was a total douche.
“I don’t know. The same reason you love Azzy. Despite how they treat us, we would not be complete without them.” Lucas put out his cigarette on the metal of the fire escape, causing the bright ashes to flutter away like fireflies. “Can I tell you something? You have to promise not to tell Remy or Azzy.”
“Sure,” I replied, noticing the fear in his voice.
“For the past few weeks, I’ve been getting really bad headaches. And then yesterday, at work, I had a seizure.”
“Did you see a doctor?”
“No, and I don’t think I want to. I honestly don’t even care if I live or die.”
Anyone with ever a single brain cell could figure out what that meant. “Is Remy screwing around on you?”
“Technically.” Lucas pursed his lips. “In a moment of weakness, I may have agreed to an open relationship.”
“Jesus, man. What the fuck?”
Lucas shrugged. “That’s what love is. You do whatever it takes, to make that special someone happy.”
I was shaken from my thoughts by the sensation of Azzy grasping my hand. She placed it on her slender stomach. “I think I’m pregnant.”
“What?” I turned to face her. She was holding a urine test stick, the kind that showed a digital readout. ‘P-O-S-I-T-I-V-E.’
“But you’re only part human. Does it work like that?”
“That’s why I said ‘I think.’” Completely dressed she grabbed her purse and headed out the door. “I’m going to try to get a blood test later today.”
“Ok, uh bye."
Azzy rolled her eyes as she left, slamming the door behind her.
"I-I love you,” I said to the empty room. The idea of being a father was terrifying, but for Azzy I needed to be strong. I just really wished I had asked more questions.
I made a mental note to call her on my lunch break.
I assumed Azzy's potentially life changing news would be the most emotionally taxing point of my day. But two hours into my shift I was plummeted into hell.
“We need all hands on deck!” A call came over the loudspeaker. “There has been a massive fire in downtown LA, we have ten ambulances headed our direction. Any available staff please report to the emergency room!”
I knew what the announcement meant- as soon as the ambulances were emptied they needed to be sent back into the field. “Where do you need me?” I shouted at one of the doctors.
“Room 19 has a twenty-six-year-old male going into cardiac arrest. They’ll need someone to start a PICC line.” I watched as the gurney rushed by. The man had long blond hair. “Lucas?” I said out loud. No, there was no way. This was California, there had to be thousands of twenty-six-year-old men with long blond hair.
The man’s eyes were swollen shut and his mouth was filling with blood. It was clear he had been hit in the face with debris. “Johnny?”
I gripped his hand, even as the paramedics tried to shove me out of their way. “It’s me, I’m here.”
As the paramedics cut off his clothes I could see Remy’s mark on Lucas's chest. What was once an elaborate tribal tattoo was now covered in blisters and burns. And after the doctors were forced to open his ribs to massage his heart, the marking was all but destroyed.
I did my part and put a PICC line into my friend’s neck, since finding a vein in his arms would have been much too difficult.
When his vitals were stabilized Lucas turned to me. “Tell Remy I died.”
“I’m not going to do that.”
“He won’t want me. I won’t be able to work. I might not be able to walk again.”
“Then he’ll take care of you. That’s what love is.”
Lucas shook his head and turned away. “You don’t understand.”
“Look at me! Love works both ways!”
Lucas looked at me with his sad, pain-stricken, blue eyes. “When a pet dies you just get a new one.”
Lucas required skin grafts to try to save his hands. But his body was so damaged within hours he fell sick with fever. The intensive care doctors assumed it was sepsis. They took blood and urine samples to try to determine what kind. That was when they found gonorrhea. Remy, that son of a bitch, had given Lucas an STD.
I stayed by Lucas’s side, my eyes locked on his stats. His heart was still weak. His pulse was erratic. But worse, was his oxygen. After a few hours of his oxygen level dropping below eighty percent, Lucas could no longer breathe on his own and was put on a ventilator.
It was a little after midnight when Azzy met up with me outside the intensive care ward. There were tears in her eyes as she held me.
“Where is he?” I asked.
“Who?” She looked at me with her innocent gaze.
“Remy. Where the fuck is Remy!?”
Azzy shrugged. “He didn’t want to come with me.”
“Ok, that’s fine.” I power-walked towards the fire exit.
“Johnny?” I could hear Azzy running after me. “Johnny wait!”
I kept walking, pushing through the emergency exit, not caring about the alarm. “I love you Azzy!” I screamed. Did she even know what that meant? Or was she a monster like her ‘friend’?
“I love you too, Johnny.”
I turned. Azzy was touching her stomach.
I realized I never asked her about the blood test. "Azzy, I'm sorry."
She turned and ran.
I immediately called her phone. “Azzy, please! Baby, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s ok,” she said calmly. “I’ll be back.”
I returned to the ICU waiting room and curled into the fetal position to get some sleep. I awoke to the sound of thunder. Looking at my watch it was two in the morning. The lights flickered.
“I’ll kill them all!” Remy’s voice roared.
A wave of electricity swept through the room, sucking the air from my lungs.
“Remy stop it!” Azzy cried. “This isn’t what Lucas would want!”
They were headed for the ICU. I sprang to my feet, rushing towards the sound.
The doors to the ICU had been forced open but time appeared to be frozen. In the middle of the corridor, in front of Lucas’s room was a mass of branches forming a cocoon.
“Please stop,” Azzy whispered. She opened her wings to reveal Remy’s shivering body.
“T-the fire was arson,” Remy sobbed.
“The police have a suspect in custody,” Azzy explained to me. “It was on the news.”
“You humans are so cruel to one another!” he cried.
Azzy’s branches held Remy by his biceps.
“What did he take?” I asked.
“I don’t know. All I know is he didn’t want to come with me. But then I saw how upset you were that he wasn’t here and I…” Her wings retracted allowing Remy’s limp body to collapse forward.
I gripped his face, forcing Remy to look into my eyes. “Do you want to see Lucas?”
Remy nodded like a tired puppy, so I helped him to his feet. We walked together through the door.
Lucas’s eyes were open, but with the breathing tube he could no longer speak. He shook his head, tears streaming down his face. I knew why: it hurt him to see Remy so upset. This was love, at least from Lucas’s side. That was my problem. Looking at Lucas and Remy was like looking at my own future. Lucas reached for my hand. I could feel Lucas’s life energy flowing through me as I allowed him to speak using my voice. “You don’t have to stay.” Lucas’s eyes stared into Remy’s.
“W-Why wouldn’t I stay?”
“You followed your ex to Nebraska then didn’t come back for three years!”
“I-I wanted to get my degree, to be more than a fuck up.” Remy pursed his lips. “But that’s all I’ve been since I came back.”
Lucas sent two more words to my lips. “Get clean.”
I looked at Remy. “What are you on?”
“I’m not on drugs.”
Lucas closed his eyes. He shook his head with a look of disdain.
“I’m not on drugs!”
I focused my eyes on Remy. “You’re choosing something over your relationship: there’s something that’s causing him to not trust you.”
Remy nodded. He took off his shirt, revealing his wings made of sugarcane. He held Lucas’s hand. “For you, I surrender it all.”
“No!” Azzy screamed, “You can’t!”
The room shook. I looked down at the floor to see an ocean of hands and feet.
“I call upon my power- my clan!” Remy’s body glowed with a demonic fire. “I love you, Lucas. I pledge my loyalty only to you!”
Before I knew what was happening Remy grabbed my hand and held my palm to his chest. We now formed a circuit. I closed my eyes and when I opened them I was in a dark alleyway on a cold rainy night.
My body, or rather Remy’s body, wore a dirty denim jacket and jeans. Everything hurt; my legs my back, even my chest.
A security guard walked past. “Hey, man,” I said in a weak voice. “I need help, I think I’m sick.” The man only rolled his eyes.
Remy’s long hair hung over his shoulders, as I hugged myself, shivering. I looked around, trying to find any source of light. Across the street was a Burger King.
I remembered the story: Lucas worked at Burger King when they first met. Lucas was going to appear any moment, he was going to help me. Minutes turned into hours. The night became darker, the rain became colder. I didn’t think it was possible to be this cold in California.
My stomach hurt. I cupped my hands to catch some water if only to have something to drink. Then I remembered Remy’s blood was made of sugarcane: he could drink his own blood for sustenance. Looking at Remy’s scarred hands it was clear that this was an option he went for often.
But he had no knife or weapon of any kind. “Teeth it is.” I took a breath to brace myself before biting down on Remy’s wrist. The pain was not as bad as I would have assumed but the blood would not stop. After only a few minutes I started to feel light headed.
“Are you ok?” asked a voice. It was Lucas. He looked younger, a little overweight with glasses and acne. And he was wearing a large yellow raincoat, like something out of a cartoon. “Do you need a place to stay?”
I wiped the blood from Remy’s lips. “Y-You don’t even know me.”
“I’m originally from Oregon where my father ran a food kitchen, so it was kind of ingrained to me to be kind to people. If it was closer to seven I would offer to give you a ride to the shelter but at this time of night they’re usually full.”
“You’re not a Christian are you?”
Lucas chuckled. “Do you have something against Christians?”
“My ex-lover was a missionary. He left me for a church position someplace in the Midwest.” I breathed on Remy’s bloody hands to try to warm them. “You got a cigarette?”
“Yeah, is Marlboro okay?” Lucas pulled a pack from his pocket. His hands were getting soaked by rain. “Maybe we should wait until we get indoors.”
"Sure, man, where's you car?"
Lucas drove a beat-up green Honda that looked older then he was. I climbed in the back, trying to make myself comfortable, despite being soaking wet.
“Sorry, I don’t have heat, but we don’t have far to go.” Lucas drove us to his studio apartment. It had a sofa, bathroom, and kitchen. “I’ll fix the sofa bed while you take a shower.”
I took off my clothes, eager to get warm. I held a clean towel to my wrist, the blood had stopped. I was actually beginning to feel calm. Only as I stood naked did I become conscious of Remy’s wings. I ducked into the shower. The curtain was opaque but I was certain my shadow was visible. I sat under the shower head, in the fetal position unsure of what to do. Lucas was human: he was going to freak out. I suddenly felt someone turn on the shower.
“Are you ok?” Lucas was holding a washcloth and began to gently wash Remy’s wings. “I’m not hurting you, am I?”
“Y-You’re not afraid?”
“I have no reason to be. All of God’s creatures are beautiful and worthy of compassion.” Lucas lifted Remy’s face. “I made some ramen noodles and tea. It’s not much but it should keep our stomachs full for tonight.”
“Thank you.”
I closed my eyes and when I opened them I was back in the ICU watching Remy, and Lucas. The room filled with disembodied souls passing through, upwards. Who were all these people?
Azzy put her arms around me. “Twelve generations of victims, thousands of souls, all released in the name of love.”
I watched as Remy’s wings turned to ash, a metallic silver powder covering both their bodies.
Azzy was in tears, but I could see Remy's act for the shallow gesture that it was. The majority of those souls weren’t even his to free: Remy was living off his daddy’s magical trust fund. I stood up and grabbed Remy by the hair, slamming his head into a nearby wall.
"What do you want from me?" he cried.
"I want you to know true pain,” I said, as I kicked him in the stomach. “Some fucked up terrorist may have burned Lucas's body but you killed his soul. He gave you his heart and you gave him an STD!" I kicked him again. "You will bow down and lick the floor like the low-life trash that you are!”
Remy looked to Azzy. "Please, sister, rein in your pet!”
Azzy stood by my side. "He is not my pet, he is my king."
Empowered, I placed a hand on Lucas’s chest. He was dying, that much was certain. I clenched my fist, picking up a handful of the powder. My heart filled with rage: it should be Remy in this bed!
I heard Lucas gasp. My eyes shot to the monitor. A smile emerged across my face as his stats normalized. He was breathing on his own.
I opened my palm to find a dark mass the size of a golf ball. Was this the physical manifestation of Lucas’s pain? All I knew was that I had an overwhelming urge to shove it down Remy’s throat.
"No!” Azzy grabbed my arm. “He needs to take it willingly."
I looked at Remy. "What do you say?"
Remy held out his hand. “Yeah, sure.”
Lucas was shaking his head. His hands were reaching for the breathing tube in his throat.
Remy took his hand. "It’s ok, I need to do this.” He quickly swallowed the darkness like a cold pill. At first, he appeared to be choking, but he was forcing it down. His eyes turned black as ink-like liquid oozed from his eyes and ears. He took a few breaths as if trying to avoid vomiting, but he failed miserably.
I left to get Remy a cot. “Is he going to be ok?” I asked Azzy, as she help me lay his unconscious body down.
She only shrugged.
Lucas would be hospitalized for the remainder of his life. Remy took a leave of absence from his new job to care for him. I watched their interactions during Lucas’s physical therapy. Remy was like a new person; loving, supportive and kind.
It broke my heart when Lucas suffered a major setback. The sepsis had returned, taking root in his brain. He suffered violent seizures. And little by little, he started to lose his sight. Remy never left his side.
The day of his death, I knew Lucas had contracted pneumonia. But Azzy and I were at the hospital for a very different reason.
With all the stress of the past few months, we had put off getting married until after the baby was born. In addition to Lucas’s illness, my disabled sister Olivia was moved into a halfway house and lastly, there was the issue of the baby itself.
Azzy never stopped working, until she was six months along. She started bleeding. According to the doctors our baby was going to be born prematurely. We were mentally preparing ourselves for the worst.
During her scheduled c-section the lights flickered in the operating room. The team of six doctors and nurses, several of them I knew from work, all look terrified. But I felt calm.
The lights went out completely. I knew the backup generators would kick on momentarily. But no one was moving; not Azzy, not the medical staff. Time was frozen. I suddenly felt a cold hand on my back.
“Hi Johnny,” Lucas said. His voice sounded like an echo.
“Hi Lucas,” I replied, tears choking in my throat. “Did you have a chance to say goodbye?” I turned to face him.
He looked beautiful: a glowing ghost with blond hair and blue eyes like that ending scene from the Beauty and the Beast cartoon. “Promise me you’ll take care of Remy. He won’t be able to stay in the apartment by himself.”
“Emotionally or financially?” I wondered out loud. Ever since Remy surrendered his powers he appeared to be living a more humble lifestyle.
“Emotionally, I mean, Remy is still filthy rich. See if you can get a place together, just so he won’t be alone.”
I nodded, knowing fully what he meant. “It’s easy for him to fall off the deep end.”
“Yeah,” Lucas said sadly. “When I first met him he had been living on the streets for weeks. Remy had his daddy’s money. He was just too depressed to do anything with it.”
“Until he met you,” I whispered. I meant to say it in my own head, but I had a feeling he would be able to hear me regardless. “I’ll take of him. I’ll be the friend he deserves.”
“Promise me you’ll let him hold the baby.”
“I-I promise.”
Lucas smiled. He looked over at Azzy’s frozen body. “She’s going to be a wonderful mother.” He leaned in and kissed her forehead before vanishing.
The lights came back on and time resumed; the yelling and screaming. Azzy had not been injected with any anesthetic but it would no longer be needed. A tidal wave of blood came from between her legs and with it an abnormally small baby boy.
I caught the child. On instinct, I grabbed a nearby scalpel and cut the umbilical cord. The little boy opened his bright blue eyes: Azzy’s eyes.
I looked over at my future wife, the mother of my beautiful son. I put the baby in her arms. “Our Lucas.”
My word caused her to cry. “Lucas? Did you see him?”
I nodded. “He’s asked me to make sure Remy held the baby.”
Azzy looked at the baby’s face. “Are you our Lucas?”
The baby blinked his eyes before he was taken from Azzy’s arms, and placed in an incubation box. I knew that my son would be headed to the pediatric ICU for observation.
I decided to stay with Azzy as she was taken to the maternity ward. The nurse pressed the button to call the elevator.
When the doors opened I stood face to face with Remy. “Hey, man.”
Remy’s hair was in his face, but I could see his eyes were red with tears.
“Remy, there’s someone I want you to meet.” I motioned to the incubation box.
My son turned his head. His little arms stretched as if reaching for Remy.
Remy cupped his hand over his mouth, falling to his knees sobbing. The baby’s hand kept reaching.
The elevator arrived at the maternity floor. Azzy and the baby were taken out to their respective rooms. But as soon as the baby was taken out of view he started to wail.
I sat with Remy, leaning against a wall, before deciding where to go. “I’ll walk with you to the pediatric ICU, or else they might not let you hold the baby.”
“Yeah, since I’m not family…”
“You are family.”
"Thanks," Remy said with a weak nod. “I’m going to have Lucas cremated, and send his ashes to his family in Oregon. Did you know, I never had the chance to meet his parents?“
“Really?”
“He wanted me to, but I was always such a selfish prick.”
“You gave up your powers,” I pointed out.
That fact made him cry even harder. “And now I have nothing; no powers, no clan...”
“You have me and Azzy.” I stood up, offering him my hand. “I think it’s time for you to properly meet my son."
My little Lucas was still crying, as we entered the pediatric ICU, much to the concern of the nurses. He was attached to a heart monitor and the nurses were about to start a feeding tube. But as soon and Remy and I stepped in the room, the baby went silent. He even appeared to smile.
The head nurse on duty was a young Filipino woman named Ava. “You work here, right?” she asked me.
“Yeah, I’m Johnny, this is Remy. He’s my wife’s cousin.” The lie was enough to allow Remy to stay with the baby while I left to check on Azzy.
I knocked on the door. “Azzy?”
She was standing by the window, naked, looking up at the moon. She looked happy and energetic for someone recovering from child birth. “The night is so beautiful. This world is so,” her smile was so full of happiness and light. “So blessed!”
I approached her from behind, reaching out my hand to touch the soft skin of her back. “Do you love me?”
Azzy turned. “Of course, why would you ask that?”
“Do you love me enough to relinquish your powers?”
https://dourdan.wordpress.com/
part 4- https://www.reddit.com/Wholesomenosleep/comments/8qpxeq/caterpillar_4_trial_by_fire/
submitted by dourdan to Wholesomenosleep [link] [comments]


2018.06.03 02:21 dourdan Caterpillar 3: Love in Bloom

Part 1- https://www.reddit.com/nosleep/comments/8k8e56/caterpilla
Part 2- https://www.reddit.com/nosleep/comments/8m2zw7/caterpillar_2_transformation/
I stood in front of the mirror looking at the black and gray tattoo on my tanned, muscular chest. I was still in awe of how cut my body was. This was a physique that would cost most guys hundreds of gym hours and gallons of protein powder.
The way the tattoo wrapped around my entire chest was also nothing short of impressive. The massive image still reminded me of a landscape from the show ‘Joy of painting.’ I watched it all the time as a kid. Bob Ross, the kind old man would always start with a simple concept, and then create an image from his mind, or rather his memory. I knew that he lived in Alaska when he served in the military.
I traced my hand down a pine tree that went from my left pectoral to my ribs.
I closed my eyes as I felt my beautiful fiancée’s hand doing the same. Azzy had done this to me; this was her mark. I now belonged to her: mind, body, and soul.
“What are you thinking about, Johnny?” Azzy whispered.
“A lot of things,” I replied with a shrug.
“Things like- finalizing your med school application?”
I had told Azzy I didn’t want to start medical school until after the wedding. I sent in the application along with my transcripts. I even talked to an academic advisor. With my work experience I was pretty much guaranteed a place. But I loved my job as a nurse and, if I’m being honest, I was a little scared of change. I placed my hand on Azzy’s porcelain skin, caressing her elegant fingers. “I want to take you to Alaska.”
“For the honeymoon?” she asked with a chuckle.
I could feel her long black hair dripping wet from the shower.
We had been planning a small, courthouse wedding. The honeymoon would likely be at a local hotel. “Maybe next summer.”
"Yeah, maybe." Azzy kissed my shoulder as she pulled on her red t-shirt for work.
“How are things at Target?” I asked.
It had been a little over a month since Azzy dismembered her supervisor and then put Remy, her long-haired surfer friend, in the vacant management position. “Remy’s a total flirt, but at least he’s not the horrible bitch that Jasmine was.”
“Does he actually get any work done?”
“Yes, he’s a great manager. Customer complaints have been down by sixty percent.”
“Because he hits on anything with a pulse, or because they’re all dead?” I muttered.
I suddenly felt a tree branch touch my back. Azzy had lifted her shirt to extend her leaf-covered wings. “I can hit a lot harder.”
“Sorry, I know he’s your friend.”
Her wings retracted. “Remy has been through a lot. He deserves some compassion.”
“I know, I know.” I turned to my closet to get dressed for work. “That’s why he’s lucky to have a guy like Lucas.” Remy’s boyfriend was the one part of him that I could stand because at times, Lucas seemed to be as sick of Remy as I was. When we would eat dinner at their luxurious downtown Los Angeles apartment, Remy would spend the entire evening drunk or stoned.
Lucas and I would chat on the fire escape, united in the fact that we were both humans trying to make it work with our fairy-demon partners. Lucas told me about how Remy was obsessed with going to clubs, nightclubs, strip clubs (for both genders) even sex clubs. He would get drunk and high, to the point of showing off his plant-based wings. And it would fall to his thin, blond boyfriend to attempt to drag Remy’s ass to the car before the other messed up people tried to tear off chunks of his body.
A week ago, at our last “dinner party” I tried to comfort Lucas. Remy had only been in California for a little over a month, after spending years in Nebraska. It was possible this was just a phase. “Cajun- Hawaiian fuckboy,” I muttered.
That got a smile, even as Lucas held his cigarette with thing trembling fingers. He had told me the story of Remy’s lineage. His father was a Cajun demon from the Louisiana bayou. He relocated to Hawaii, for a change of scenery and to feed on unsuspecting tourists. That was where he met, kidnapped, impregnated and subsequently murdered a young Hawaiian girl.
Remy never knew his mother: yet another reason to pity him. But I pitied Lucas more.
“He parades me around like a trophy,” Lucas sighed as he smoked cigarette after cigarette. “Remy made me; he paid for my degree, even got me my dream job.”
“First of all,” I said as I attempted to move downwind of the secondhand smoke. “You told me that Remy networked you, your dream job by screwing someone’s secretary.
“He met the CEO’s son at an orgy.”
Of course he did. "And Remy may have paid for your degree with his daddy’s money but you were the one who graduated from UCLA.”
Lucas was smiling, but it was hard to tell if his joy was genuine or if his spirit was just so broken all he could do was laugh at his situation. "I miss him."
"Remy?"
“We don’t talk much anymore.” I watched Lucas turned to look in the window at Remy smoking weed while Azzy laughed. “But no matter what, I love him.”
“Why?” I muttered to out loud to myself. I knew it wasn't my place to judge someone else’s relationship but to me, Remy was a total douche.
“I don’t know. The same reason you love Azzy. Despite how they treat us, we would not be complete without them.” Lucas put out his cigarette on the metal of the fire escape, causing the bright ashes to flutter away like fireflies. “Can I tell you something? You have to promise not to tell Remy or Azzy.”
“Sure,” I replied, noticing the fear in his voice.
“For the past few weeks, I’ve been getting really bad headaches. And then yesterday, at work, I had a seizure.”
“Did you see a doctor?”
“No, and I don’t think I want to. I honestly don’t even care if I live or die.”
Anyone with ever a single brain cell could figure out what that meant. “Is Remy screwing around on you?”
“Technically.” Lucas pursed his lips. “In a moment of weakness, I may have agreed to an open relationship.”
“Jesus, man. What the fuck?”
Lucas shrugged. “That’s what love is. You do whatever it takes, to make that special someone happy.”
I was shaken from my thoughts by the sensation of Azzy grasping my hand. She placed it on her slender stomach. “I think I’m pregnant.”
“What?” I turned to face her. She was holding a urine test stick, the kind that showed a digital readout. ‘P-O-S-I-T-I-V-E.’
“But you’re only part human. Does it work like that?”
“That’s why I said ‘I think.’” Completely dressed she grabbed her purse and headed out the door. “I’m going to try to get a blood test later today.”
“Ok, uh bye."
Azzy rolled her eyes as she left, slamming the door behind her.
"I-I love you,” I said to the empty room. The idea of being a father was terrifying, but for Azzy I needed to be strong. I just really wished I had asked more questions.
I made a mental note to call her on my lunch break.
I assumed Azzy's potentially life changing news would be the most emotionally taxing point of my day. But two hours into my shift I was plummeted into hell.
“We need all hands on deck!” A call came over the loudspeaker. “There has been a massive fire in downtown LA, we have ten ambulances headed our direction. Any available staff please report to the emergency room!”
I knew what the announcement meant- as soon as the ambulances were emptied they needed to be sent back into the field. “Where do you need me?” I shouted at one of the doctors.
“Room 19 has a twenty-six-year-old male going into cardiac arrest. They’ll need someone to start a PICC line.” I watched as the gurney rushed by. The man had long blond hair. “Lucas?” I said out loud. No, there was no way. This was California, there had to be thousands of twenty-six-year-old men with long blond hair.
The man’s eyes were swollen shut and his mouth was filling with blood. It was clear he had been hit in the face with debris. “Johnny?”
I gripped his hand, even as the paramedics tried to shove me out of their way. “It’s me, I’m here.”
As the paramedics cut off his clothes I could see Remy’s mark on Lucas's chest. What was once an elaborate tribal tattoo was now covered in blisters and burns. And after the doctors were forced to open his ribs to massage his heart, the marking was all but destroyed.
I did my part and put a PICC line into my friend’s neck, since finding a vein in his arms would have been much too difficult.
When his vitals were stabilized Lucas turned to me. “Tell Remy I died.”
“I’m not going to do that.”
“He won’t want me. I won’t be able to work. I might not be able to walk again.”
“Then he’ll take care of you. That’s what love is.”
Lucas shook his head and turned away. “You don’t understand.”
“Look at me! Love works both ways!”
Lucas looked at me with his sad, pain-stricken, blue eyes. “When a pet dies you just get a new one.”
Lucas required skin grafts to try to save his hands. But his body was so damaged within hours he fell sick with fever. The intensive care doctors assumed it was sepsis. They took blood and urine samples to try to determine what kind. That was when they found gonorrhea. Remy, that son of a bitch, had given Lucas an STD.
I stayed by Lucas’s side, my eyes locked on his stats. His heart was still weak. His pulse was erratic. But worse, was his oxygen. After a few hours of his oxygen level dropping below eighty percent, Lucas could no longer breathe on his own and was put on a ventilator.
It was a little after midnight when Azzy met up with me outside the intensive care ward. There were tears in her eyes as she held me.
“Where is he?” I asked.
“Who?” She looked at me with her innocent gaze.
“Remy. Where the fuck is Remy!?”
Azzy shrugged. “He didn’t want to come with me.”
“Ok, that’s fine.” I power-walked towards the fire exit.
“Johnny?” I could hear Azzy running after me. “Johnny wait!”
I kept walking, pushing through the emergency exit, not caring about the alarm. “I love you Azzy!” I screamed. Did she even know what that meant? Or was she a monster like her ‘friend’?
“I love you too, Johnny.”
I turned. Azzy was touching her stomach.
I realized I never asked her about the blood test. "Azzy, I'm sorry."
She turned and ran.
I immediately called her phone. “Azzy, please! Baby, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s ok,” she said calmly. “I’ll be back.”
I returned to the ICU waiting room and curled into the fetal position to get some sleep. I awoke to the sound of thunder. Looking at my watch it was two in the morning. The lights flickered.
“I’ll kill them all!” Remy’s voice roared.
A wave of electricity swept through the room, sucking the air from my lungs.
“Remy stop it!” Azzy cried. “This isn’t what Lucas would want!”
They were headed for the ICU. I sprang to my feet, rushing towards the sound.
The doors to the ICU had been forced open but time appeared to be frozen. In the middle of the corridor, in front of Lucas’s room was a mass of branches forming a cocoon.
“Please stop,” Azzy whispered. She opened her wings to reveal Remy’s shivering body.
“T-the fire was arson,” Remy sobbed.
“The police have a suspect in custody,” Azzy explained to me. “It was on the news.”
“You humans are so cruel to one another!” he cried.
Azzy’s branches held Remy by his biceps.
“What did he take?” I asked.
“I don’t know. All I know is he didn’t want to come with me. But then I saw how upset you were that he wasn’t here and I…” Her wings retracted allowing Remy’s limp body to collapse forward.
I gripped his face, forcing Remy to look into my eyes. “Do you want to see Lucas?”
Remy nodded like a tired puppy, so I helped him to his feet. We walked together through the door.
Lucas’s eyes were open, but with the breathing tube he could no longer speak. He shook his head, tears streaming down his face. I knew why: it hurt him to see Remy so upset. This was love, at least from Lucas’s side. That was my problem. Looking at Lucas and Remy was like looking at my own future. Lucas reached for my hand. I could feel Lucas’s life energy flowing through me as I allowed him to speak using my voice. “You don’t have to stay.” Lucas’s eyes stared into Remy’s.
“W-Why wouldn’t I stay?”
“You followed your ex to Nebraska then didn’t come back for three years!”
“I-I wanted to get my degree, to be more than a fuck up.” Remy pursed his lips. “But that’s all I’ve been since I came back.”
Lucas sent two more words to my lips. “Get clean.”
I looked at Remy. “What are you on?”
“I’m not on drugs.”
Lucas closed his eyes. He shook his head with a look of disdain.
“I’m not on drugs!”
I focused my eyes on Remy. “You’re choosing something over your relationship: there’s something that’s causing him to not trust you.”
Remy nodded. He took off his shirt, revealing his wings made of sugarcane. He held Lucas’s hand. “For you, I surrender it all.”
“No!” Azzy screamed, “You can’t!”
The room shook. I looked down at the floor to see an ocean of hands and feet.
“I call upon my power- my clan!” Remy’s body glowed with a demonic fire. “I love you, Lucas. I pledge my loyalty only to you!”
Before I knew what was happening Remy grabbed my hand and held my palm to his chest. We now formed a circuit. I closed my eyes and when I opened them I was in a dark alleyway on a cold rainy night.
My body, or rather Remy’s body, wore a dirty denim jacket and jeans. Everything hurt; my legs my back, even my chest.
A security guard walked past. “Hey, man,” I said in a weak voice. “I need help, I think I’m sick.” The man only rolled his eyes.
Remy’s long hair hung over his shoulders, as I hugged myself, shivering. I looked around, trying to find any source of light. Across the street was a Burger King.
I remembered the story: Lucas worked at Burger King when they first met. Lucas was going to appear any moment, he was going to help me. Minutes turned into hours. The night became darker, the rain became colder. I didn’t think it was possible to be this cold in California.
My stomach hurt. I cupped my hands to catch some water if only to have something to drink. Then I remembered Remy’s blood was made of sugarcane: he could drink his own blood for sustenance. Looking at Remy’s scarred hands it was clear that this was an option he went for often.
But he had no knife or weapon of any kind. “Teeth it is.” I took a breath to brace myself before biting down on Remy’s wrist. The pain was not as bad as I would have assumed but the blood would not stop. After only a few minutes I started to feel light headed.
“Are you ok?” asked a voice. It was Lucas. He looked younger, a little overweight with glasses and acne. And he was wearing a large yellow raincoat, like something out of a cartoon. “Do you need a place to stay?”
I wiped the blood from Remy’s lips. “Y-You don’t even know me.”
“I’m originally from Oregon where my father ran a food kitchen, so it was kind of ingrained to me to be kind to people. If it was closer to seven I would offer to give you a ride to the shelter but at this time of night they’re usually full.”
“You’re not a Christian are you?”
Lucas chuckled. “Do you have something against Christians?”
“My ex-lover was a missionary. He left me for a church position someplace in the Midwest.” I breathed on Remy’s bloody hands to try to warm them. “You got a cigarette?”
“Yeah, is Marlboro okay?” Lucas pulled a pack from his pocket. His hands were getting soaked by rain. “Maybe we should wait until we get indoors.”
"Sure, man, where's you car?"
Lucas drove a beat-up green Honda that looked older then he was. I climbed in the back, trying to make myself comfortable, despite being soaking wet.
“Sorry, I don’t have heat, but we don’t have far to go.” Lucas drove us to his studio apartment. It had a sofa, bathroom, and kitchen. “I’ll fix the sofa bed while you take a shower.”
I took off my clothes, eager to get warm. I held a clean towel to my wrist, the blood had stopped. I was actually beginning to feel calm. Only as I stood naked did I become conscious of Remy’s wings. I ducked into the shower. The curtain was opaque but I was certain my shadow was visible. I sat under the shower head, in the fetal position unsure of what to do. Lucas was human: he was going to freak out. I suddenly felt someone turn on the shower.
“Are you ok?” Lucas was holding a washcloth and began to gently wash Remy’s wings. “I’m not hurting you, am I?”
“Y-You’re not afraid?”
“I have no reason to be. All of God’s creatures are beautiful and worthy of compassion.” Lucas lifted Remy’s face. “I made some ramen noodles and tea. It’s not much but it should keep our stomachs full for tonight.”
“Thank you.”
I closed my eyes and when I opened them I was back in the ICU watching Remy, and Lucas. The room filled with disembodied souls passing through, upwards. Who were all these people?
Azzy put her arms around me. “Twelve generations of victims, thousands of souls, all released in the name of love.”
I watched as Remy’s wings turned to ash, a metallic silver powder covering both their bodies.
Azzy was in tears, but I could see Remy's act for the shallow gesture that it was. The majority of those souls weren’t even his to free: Remy was living off his daddy’s magical trust fund. I stood up and grabbed Remy by the hair, slamming his head into a nearby wall.
"What do you want from me?" he cried.
"I want you to know true pain,” I said, as I kicked him in the stomach. “Some fucked up terrorist may have burned Lucas's body but you killed his soul. He gave you his heart and you gave him an STD!" I kicked him again. "You will bow down and lick the floor like the low-life trash that you are!”
Remy looked to Azzy. "Please, sister, rein in your pet!”
Azzy stood by my side. "He is not my pet, he is my king."
Empowered, I placed a hand on Lucas’s chest. He was dying, that much was certain. I clenched my fist, picking up a handful of the powder. My heart filled with rage: it should be Remy in this bed!
I heard Lucas gasp. My eyes shot to the monitor. A smile emerged across my face as his stats normalized. He was breathing on his own.
I opened my palm to find a dark mass the size of a golf ball. Was this the physical manifestation of Lucas’s pain? All I knew was that I had an overwhelming urge to shove it down Remy’s throat.
"No!” Azzy grabbed my arm. “He needs to take it willingly."
I looked at Remy. "What do you say?"
Remy held out his hand. “Yeah, sure.”
Lucas was shaking his head. His hands were reaching for the breathing tube in his throat.
Remy took his hand. "It’s ok, I need to do this.” He quickly swallowed the darkness like a cold pill. At first, he appeared to be choking, but he was forcing it down. His eyes turned black as ink-like liquid oozed from his eyes and ears. He took a few breaths as if trying to avoid vomiting, but he failed miserably.
I left to get Remy a cot. “Is he going to be ok?” I asked Azzy, as she help me lay his unconscious body down.
She only shrugged.
Lucas would be hospitalized for the remainder of his life. Remy took a leave of absence from his new job to care for him. I watched their interactions during Lucas’s physical therapy. Remy was like a new person; loving, supportive and kind.
It broke my heart when Lucas suffered a major setback. The sepsis had returned, taking root in his brain. He suffered violent seizures. And little by little, he started to lose his sight. Remy never left his side.
The day of his death, I knew Lucas had contracted pneumonia. But Azzy and I were at the hospital for a very different reason.
With all the stress of the past few months, we had put off getting married until after the baby was born. In addition to Lucas’s illness, my disabled sister Olivia was moved into a halfway house and lastly, there was the issue of the baby itself.
Azzy never stopped working, until she was six months along. She started bleeding. According to the doctors our baby was going to be born prematurely. We were mentally preparing ourselves for the worst.
During her scheduled c-section the lights flickered in the operating room. The team of six doctors and nurses, several of them I knew from work, all look terrified. But I felt calm.
The lights went out completely. I knew the backup generators would kick on momentarily. But no one was moving; not Azzy, not the medical staff. Time was frozen. I suddenly felt a cold hand on my back.
“Hi Johnny,” Lucas said. His voice sounded like an echo.
“Hi Lucas,” I replied, tears choking in my throat. “Did you have a chance to say goodbye?” I turned to face him.
He looked beautiful: a glowing ghost with blond hair and blue eyes like that ending scene from the Beauty and the Beast cartoon. “Promise me you’ll take care of Remy. He won’t be able to stay in the apartment by himself.”
“Emotionally or financially?” I wondered out loud. Ever since Remy surrendered his powers he appeared to be living a more humble lifestyle.
“Emotionally, I mean, Remy is still filthy rich. See if you can get a place together, just so he won’t be alone.”
I nodded, knowing fully what he meant. “It’s easy for him to fall off the deep end.”
“Yeah,” Lucas said sadly. “When I first met him he had been living on the streets for weeks. Remy had his daddy’s money. He was just too depressed to do anything with it.”
“Until he met you,” I whispered. I meant to say it in my own head, but I had a feeling he would be able to hear me regardless. “I’ll take of him. I’ll be the friend he deserves.”
“Promise me you’ll let him hold the baby.”
“I-I promise.”
Lucas smiled. He looked over at Azzy’s frozen body. “She’s going to be a wonderful mother.” He leaned in and kissed her forehead before vanishing.
The lights came back on and time resumed; the yelling and screaming. Azzy had not been injected with any anesthetic but it would no longer be needed. A tidal wave of blood came from between her legs and with it an abnormally small baby boy.
I caught the child. On instinct, I grabbed a nearby scalpel and cut the umbilical cord. The little boy opened his bright blue eyes: Azzy’s eyes.
I looked over at my future wife, the mother of my beautiful son. I put the baby in her arms. “Our Lucas.”
My word caused her to cry. “Lucas? Did you see him?”
I nodded. “He’s asked me to make sure Remy held the baby.”
Azzy looked at the baby’s face. “Are you our Lucas?”
The baby blinked his eyes before he was taken from Azzy’s arms, and placed in an incubation box. I knew that my son would be headed to the pediatric ICU for observation.
I decided to stay with Azzy as she was taken to the maternity ward. The nurse pressed the button to call the elevator.
When the doors opened I stood face to face with Remy. “Hey, man.”
Remy’s hair was in his face, but I could see his eyes were red with tears.
“Remy, there’s someone I want you to meet.” I motioned to the incubation box.
My son turned his head. His little arms stretched as if reaching for Remy.
Remy cupped his hand over his mouth, falling to his knees sobbing. The baby’s hand kept reaching.
The elevator arrived at the maternity floor. Azzy and the baby were taken out to their respective rooms. But as soon as the baby was taken out of view he started to wail.
I sat with Remy, leaning against a wall, before deciding where to go. “I’ll walk with you to the pediatric ICU, or else they might not let you hold the baby.”
“Yeah, since I’m not family…”
“You are family.”
"Thanks," Remy said with a weak nod. “I’m going to have Lucas cremated, and send his ashes to his family in Oregon. Did you know, I never had the chance to meet his parents?“
“Really?”
“He wanted me to, but I was always such a selfish prick.”
“You gave up your powers,” I pointed out.
That fact made him cry even harder. “And now I have nothing; no powers, no clan...”
“You have me and Azzy.” I stood up, offering him my hand. “I think it’s time for you to properly meet my son."
My little Lucas was still crying, as we entered the pediatric ICU, much to the concern of the nurses. He was attached to a heart monitor and the nurses were about to start a feeding tube. But as soon and Remy and I stepped in the room, the baby went silent. He even appeared to smile.
The head nurse on duty was a young Filipino woman named Ava. “You work here, right?” she asked me.
“Yeah, I’m Johnny, this is Remy. He’s my wife’s cousin.” The lie was enough to allow Remy to stay with the baby while I left to check on Azzy.
I knocked on the door. “Azzy?”
She was standing by the window, naked, looking up at the moon. She looked happy and energetic for someone recovering from child birth. “The night is so beautiful. This world is so,” her smile was so full of happiness and light. “So blessed!”
I approached her from behind, reaching out my hand to touch the soft skin of her back. “Do you love me?”
Azzy turned. “Of course, why would you ask that?”
“Do you love me enough to relinquish your powers?”
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VIDEO Gary DOURDAN @ Paris 3 june 2019 Global Gift gala / juin Choc : Gary DOURDAN aux mains de Tortille !!! CSI star Gary Dourdan in drugs arrest Gary Dourdan Shares Kind Words For Prince Before Taking Flight Interview Buenafuente Gary Dourdan & song 1/2 Two Can Play That Game - Full Movie  2001 - YouTube Gary Dourdan - The Pill The End CSI Cast: The Real-life Partners Revealed  ⭐OSSA - YouTube

The Stars Of CSI: Where Are They Now? NinjaJournalist

  1. VIDEO Gary DOURDAN @ Paris 3 june 2019 Global Gift gala / juin
  2. Choc : Gary DOURDAN aux mains de Tortille !!!
  3. CSI star Gary Dourdan in drugs arrest
  4. Gary Dourdan Shares Kind Words For Prince Before Taking Flight
  5. Interview Buenafuente Gary Dourdan & song 1/2
  6. Two Can Play That Game - Full Movie 2001 - YouTube
  7. Gary Dourdan - The Pill
  8. The End
  9. CSI Cast: The Real-life Partners Revealed ⭐OSSA - YouTube
  10. Gary Dourdan Arrested on Suspicion of Possession

It didn't happen in Vegas, but after this Red Carpet with Barrett Applegate it's hard to question the authorities suspicion after CSI star Gary Dourdan was arrested on suspicion of possessing ... Sunday, April 24, 2016 - Gary Dourdan totes his guitar while making his way through LAX. The former CSI star spreads a little love to Prince before catching an afternoon flight. 'We Love Prince ... Coup de coeur ! Etonnante rencontre entre Tortille & Gary Dourdan : démonstration massage et soins voluptueux pour les boucles ! Tout le monde aimerait être à sa place et profiter des mains ... Actor Gary Dourdan from hit TV show CSI in drugs arrest. Test. Interview Gary Dourdan and singing The Wind Cries Mary by Jimy Hendrix. Provided to YouTube by TuneCore The End · Gary Dourdan Mother Tongue ℗ 2017 Tetoyoshi Music Italia Released on: 2017-06-24 Auto-generated by YouTube. * My Partner's site on social media: See more videos by UC8312172 Channel: ... Vivica A Fox Gary Dourdan on stage in Two Can Play That Game by LIVE SPORTS MS. 0:59. VIDEO CSI actor Gary DOURDAN @ Paris 3 june 2019 Global Gift gala / juin. CSI: Crime Scene Investigation was a CBS hit for 15 years and 337 episodes! In this video we will reveal the details of the CSI cast's private life. Find out... 50+ videos Play all Mix - Gary Dourdan - The Pill YouTube The Allman Brothers Band - Full Concert - 01/16/82 - University Of Florida Bandshell (OFFICIAL) - Duration: 58:39. Allman Brothers on MV ...