The Reject Chapter 15 - 5

"Cesare," Elizabeth said quietly with a meaningful look.

He understood what she wanted, and why she demanded it. Each of the woman had claimed him in their own way. Alexandra as her superior. Lady Kali with her intimate gestures and untamable sexuality. Anastasia flitted across the lines of friend and lover, never hiding that she thought he belonged to her in some indefinable way.

Elizabeth had carved her name into his blood as a mark of her ownership of his soul. His blood would open the way, declaring to the world that he was bound in scarlet to the Old Ones. She'd brought him under the eyes of the insane beings that swam in the distant oceans between stars. Initiated him in their crimson hungers, baptized his soul in their ebony waters. By opening the way, he proved Elizabeth would always be part of his life, always own a piece of his flesh and soul.

The quiet snick of the switchblade was loud in the pregnant silence. Each woman shared his life, watching the changes transform him with perverse, purposeful madness. Each wave tore away more of who he was, mangling his flesh, warping his mind. Forcing him to be a misshapen creature of feral need, a grotesque mockery of who he'd been. Yet each of the woman only saw the slice he shared with them.

By my blood do I open the way

By my blood and the grace of the Old Ones, do I turn the watcher's eyes away

By blood blessed by the Raven, do I grant entry to what is mine

The blade parted flesh with a flash of cold fire. Crimson drops hit the ground, their impact thrumming through the soul, ripples of eldritch force radiating out from their hammer blows. A primal hunger reluctantly pulled away from his soul as the runes accepted his life as inviolate.

With a satisfied smile, Elizabeth walked through the arch. Cesare felt the wards part invisibly for him, shattering force held begrudgingly in check. The stares of the others was a physical force against his back. It was hard when someone turned out to be something more than you thought they were.

"Lady Kali, we can't enter." Nzinga's words tightened the barbed tension that bit into the harem.

Cesare looked back from inside the safety of the wards. Kali stood at the head of the harem with Michael beside her. Black as the shadows that drowned this place, Cesare could still make out Nzinga's bulk as she towered head and shoulders over the man next to her. Her tawny stripped hair marked her in this place of shadowed life.

Cesare looked at the Bouda for a long second before facing Lady Kali. "They're not mine, and I won't vouch for them." His lips twitched into a mischievous smile as he held out his hand. "How about we slip the nannies for a while?"

Lady Kali's answering grin stripped thousands of years off her face. Stepping forward, Micheal blocked Kali's way, face turned imploringly to her. "Lady Kali, you can't .…"

Her face transformed from girlish into apocalyptic. With a sweep of her hand, she conjured dense Ebon Flame, a stain across the beauty of the shadows, a savage thing of ravaging fury. This was worlds beyond Anastasia, a god given physical form, hungry, brutal, and vile, defiling the world with its wrath. Quicker than thought, it hammered into Micheal, leaving only an afterimage of corruption behind.

With bone breaking force the man hit the wall of roots, slumping to the floor, dazed and uncomprehending, blood leaking from split lips. Tearing at the fabric of reality, the black flames coiled around Lady Kali's delicate hands as she turned incandescent black eyes on her harem. "Never command me." As one, the harem dropped to one knee, heads bowed, a collective shiver possessing their bodies at the naked threat.

Turning from them, Lady Kali the Destroyer met his eyes with shy fear. Cesare held his hand still as her fingers came through the ward and wrapped around his. "It doesn't scare you?" The quiet question filled the silence of the warded hall.

Cesare pulled her into a hug. The powerful were alone for good reason. Fear was only equal to greed in its possession of the soul. The rich were paychecks, not people. Look on the face of any man who wants to fuck a girl, and you'll see the poor man's shadow of that selfish greed.

It wasn't only Lady Kali's power that made her dangerous, but her refusal to be bound. She was a storm that brought blessed rain and destruction. Savior and destroyer, death and life, balanced on the whim of a creature that had torn cities down with nothing but the power of her soul. More than anything, Kali was intoxicating, wild, untamable, and utterly deadly.

Kali's scorching skin burned his flesh, a silky flame given pale, beautiful form. Cesare pushed into the pinpricks of pain, delighting in the blooms of burning nerves. His words were for her alone, and yet, he knew the others would hear. "You're uncontrollable, as wild as a tornado, as unpredictable as lightning, and as deadly as the hunger of a god." The words corrupted the air, summoning images soaked in meaning, blood pooling in a newborn's cradle, tortured screams of lost love, the broken heart of an innocent. Lady Kali stiffened against him, arms tightening in an almost convulsive move. "Captivating and endlessly beautiful." The thrill of the hunt, the insidious creeping power of the dark, prey beneath your claws, his words washed the corridor with emotions that pulled at the cords that lived in blackened, misshapen souls.

She lost herself in the sapphire ocean of his eyes. He was insane, she'd known that from the first night she'd spent on his arm. He knew she was murderous, that she embodied endless cruelty. She could kill him, would kill him if he stepped wrong without regret or thought. It was part of her nature, and she'd long accepted who she was.

The world was a craven bitch that cowered at her power. No one had mastered her, not gods, abominations, immortals, are all the armies of man and monster. She fed her desires until they bloated with pleasure, uncaring at the screams of lesser creatures. Her power and independence horrified every creature she'd been with. They disappeared in the umbra of her shadow, seen as nothing more than lap dogs by the world, and died in that darkness.

That crawling fear was absent in Cesare's eyes. Maybe it was growing up with death never more than a fading whisper away, but he didn't fear her. Not her personal power or her authority. He called her wild, but he was the beast that roamed her monstrous dreams. A singularity, both the strongest man she knew and the weakest. His fealty couldn't be bought by god or man, his influence little more than a breath of wind. No, he was the wildest of things and the most precious, a strange beast as unique as it was alone.

Looking up into his cruel, mad eyes, her words were loud in the crypt stillness of the hall. "I think I'd set the world on fire for you." The simplicity shocked the others. Stripped of the love that clenched her heart or the need that raced through her bones at the sight of his rawly beautiful face. It was simply how much he meant to her.

Flushing, Cesare smiled down at the living apocalypse. "Lucky for the world, we parted ways."

Kali backed away from the revealing moment with a smirk. "Yes, lucky for the world."

They turned as one and meet the eyes of the watching women. Shaking herself, Elizabeth whispered a word that resounded with power. Small runes flared to life along the walls and ceiling, their ghostly light burning with energies hateful to humanity. There would be no crass florescent lights, no vulgar illumination to take away from the occult truths of wombs and earth.

Running along the walls, the black roots tangled and twisted around each other. Mother's blood flowing through the wood, spreading her bounty to every tree in the collective. As high as the trees rose in the sky, these stygian rivers delved into the earth.

Elizabeth stopped in front of the only room in the hall's long expanse. Following her inside, Cesare took his eyes off her magnificent ass to take in the room. There were no lockers, no benches, nothing of the mundane and coarse world of industrial sports and naked aggression. She'd turned the impersonal into the intimate, showing savage needs could be gentled by a wiser hand.

Scattered around the room, tables and chairs formed small groups. Birthed from the floor in a storm of interwoven roots, they were a glistening black without a speck of dirk. Elegant creations of clean lines and perfect curves, each piece was singularly perfect in its uniqueness. They were works of art meant to delight the eye, function being only one concern in their creation. Anchored into the ground by dozens of glistening black tendrils, they owned a dimension beyond furniture, solidarity and the need to never forget where you come from radiating from them.

Saturated in the deep, earthy smell of fresh turned soil, the room was out of tune with the world. Moist and thick, air filled the lungs with essence pulled from ancient times when the earths children were young. An age before monsters or man spread cancerous tendrils across her bounty. This was a privileged place, the kind shown to a trusted few. Those blessed enough to be let in knew without question they could let their guard down, that this womb of the earth mother would shield its wayward children.

"You honor us," Cesare said quietly, followed by the solemn nods of the others. No one could come here and not be awed by its otherworldly wonder.

Blushing, Elizabeth had eyes only for Cesare. "I … hoped you'd like it." She'd made it for Cesare, designed for him and with only him in mind. That the others would use it didn't change that, because it would only be open to them as long as he wanted them there.

Elizabeth laid her hand on the three garment bags draped over an elaborate armchair done in shades of night. "As you requested Lady Kali, no one has opened them. Not even me."

Lady Kali grinned. "Not my order, it was all him."

"Are we agreed on my plan?" Cesare asked, pulling them back to the question.

Instead of exchanging looks like fellow conspirators, they weighted him for a long minute before giving him a nod independent of the others. They weren't a team, if forced together they'd fracture and shatter along the fault line of ambition, loathing, and outright hate. That was the way of the powerful, great power birthed massive egos. Or maybe it took a big ego to accumulate great power. The three would be nothing more than allies of convenience, each looking for a way to gut the woman next to her. They weren't here for each other; they were out for themselves.

Taking a step toward Anastasia, Cesare noted the subtle tensing of muscles as she prepared to flinch away from his touch. Despite the stress that spilled from her eyes, she didn't want his comfort. Handing over the recorder, his words were sterile things stripped of emotion. "I made this for you." It was up to her if she'd use it. He wouldn't force her across the finish line, she had to own this win, and that meant controlling her distaste for him.

She nodded with easy acceptance, Anastasia wasn't stupid, she was meat without his training. Taking the recorder she took a seat along the wall in a plush chair of midnight and sable roots. Her eyes closed as the earphones covered mangled ears, already falling into the mindscape he'd made for her.

Sitting with the others, they kept the conversation light and quiet, talking about homework, cafeteria food, and books. These times were rare. He didn't value the butchery his life had become, each victory always leading to another fight, a never-ending line of slaughter to feed the ravenous hunger of ambition. But times when he had his friends beside him, without the pressure of making their dreams come true, this was what made it worth it.

The beeping of his watch ended the simple time, the women going silent at the alien sound. Standing with a stretch that popped his back, he motioned to the garment bags. "Alexandra, can you bring those?"

Cesare lifted the earphones off Anastasia's head. "It's time." Looking up at him, she gave a soft smile, eyes that had roiled with stress, worry, anxiety, and pain, were focused into crystal clarity.

Getting to her feet, she wrapped her arms around him. It was the most natural thing in the world to pull her into his chest. Laying her head on his shoulder, a low, tired sigh pushed the last bit of stress from her. They could have this, small, perfect moments that shone like diamonds in the shit of life. When the world aligned for a few seconds, and the lies they lived seemed like angels of grace, instead of tortured creatures with barbed whips and gleeful, sadistic eyes. Breaking apart from him, her smile dazzled. It made staying with her so easy, even if he knew she'd only hurt him.

The others waited as they shared the timeless moment. Anastasia may have seen things in him she didn't like, but that didn't change their feelings. They fought, slicing and cutting with an abandon born of cruel needs, each trying to make something of the carnage of their relationship. But even in the pits of that blood-soaked hell, they never wanted to be anywhere else. It was better to fight with someone you love than to live without them. Anyone else would have cut bait and left, but neither of them were quitters, and maybe that was the tragedy. In hoping for something good out of something that only ever hurt.

They walked down the dimly lit hallway until they came through a rune incised archway shimmering with iridescent traceries of mad hunger, the open field beyond its barrier. Cesare faced Anastasia under the un-lights of the glittering madness of the runes. "You don't need tricks; all the power you need is in your soul. Call on it, destroy everything that stands between you and your dreams."

Alexandra came up on his other side, the two horrors bracketing him. Lady Kali and Elizabeth followed behind. They were the sponsors, the only thing that bought them the chance to prove they could be something more than kids.

The crowd roared as they appeared in the faded winter sunlight. The stands were painted dark blue with school uniforms, kids stomping out a bass sound that rattled bones and sent the heart skipping. The roar of the monstrous transformed into a chant of worship. "Ruin! Ruin! Ruin!" They'd cheer as gleefully if Anastasia's blood hit the ground. They only wanted slaughter; they didn't care who the cow was.

Anastasia didn't walk far, only enough to acknowledge that she was ready. She wanted as much room as she could get in case she needed to maneuver. Jerold led the Thagirion out of the darkness of the far archway. Abraxas anchored Jerold's right, keeping pace with the icy teacher. Stripped down to sweatpants, Blaez stalked on the left. The Thagirion stopped at the edge of the field, while Blaez continued until he was inches from the slaughter line.

She was felt before seen, a hush racing before her as terror rippled through the arena. Students stumbled back in blind panic as she came through the main entrance, a wave of rushing kids running to get out of her way. It was rare to see the Mistress and unheard of for her to come to a fight. Silence gripped the arena as if she'd reached in and torn out their tongues, leaving only gaping maws in her wake.

Leaping off the enclosing wall, she landed with a grace wholly inhuman. Warping and buckling, the ground groaned under her immense weight, ripples cascading out along the earth and air. Straddling the line of slaughter, she gave both students a long looking over.

"Mistress," Jerold said, breath frosting the air as fear ripped control from him. "I thought I'd assured you I could handle this."

The stadium was silent as the Mistress locked on Jerold. If he was ice, she was the void, endless, empty, unconquerable, and forever hungry. "I founded the Thagirion to protect this school. To guard students from the dangers of the light and the treacherous shadows of the moon. In that time, this rite has only been invoked twice." Her head cocked to the side in a display of alien curiosity. "I wonder why you think I would be anywhere else." The statement sent the man back stepping with a deep bow, unsure how to answer the barbed trap.

It rested soul black eyes on the fighters, its word the command of the deathless. "Begin." Her order snapped the champions into sudden action.