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elesary · 1 year ago

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Hi everyone! I know I’ve been a bit awol but I thought I would post the first chapter of CATO the first one of my books to be published NEXT month I can’t even believe it. I hope you’ll give it a read. If you like it, you can preorder it on Amazon.

And if you like it so much that you want to read more right away, you can find more on my Patreon.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 1

Skyler

“Do you know what will happen next?” the woman asks, leaning forward in her chair and looking at me over her spectacles like I am a zoo animal behind glass. She is always younger than I expect her to be, with playful cruelty in her drooping blue eyes. Something in her screams monster, but Ramona Archer isn’t one, not really. She may be a psychopath, but she is still human.

I do not know the answer to her question, and her glittering eyes tell me that she knows that, tell me that she’s enjoying this. The truth is, I have been trained for this my whole life. The truth is, there is still no way to be prepared for what comes next. I nod anyway.

“I meet Cato.”

There is a file in my hand, thinner than I anticipated. Somehow, in all my years of training I never realized just how little the agency really knew about their monsters. Case in point, my first assignment is to fetch the bodies of the last two Tamers they paired with Cato. The first one he had let live, merely taking one of her eyes. He doesn’t like green, Kari explained, her single remaining olive eye filling up with tears.

Ramona simply nodded and dismissed her. Useless now, she would be sent home with a substantial enough stipend to make her disappear. No one wants a broken Tamer, and there is no room for kindness in this corner of the world.

Neither of the next two Tamers Ramona sent had green eyes, but neither survived the encounter to tell the rest of us what else Cato might not like.

“Do try to survive the encounter,” Ramona advises me with a smile. “I’m sure he’s running out of acceptable explanations, and the job really does need to be done.”

I wonder if dealing with Ramona is a test, but even if it is, I will pass it. If I cannot handle a blithe psychopath, I’ll stand no chance against a Berserker.

“Then you probably shouldn’t have enabled the problem for so long,” I reply sweetly, tilting my head and meeting Ramona’s selechian eyes.

She laughs, very nearly pleased.

“There’s that attitude,” she says fondly. “I wonder if you’ll be allowed to keep it when he breaks you.”

My smile stays firmly in place; there is no point in fearing the inevitable, only in trying to make it work for me.

“Is there anything else?” I ask politely, toeing the fine line between respecting her and respecting myself. She is my boss, after all, the person who prepared me for what I must do, for what I was born to do. My role in keeping the world safe. More importantly, keeping my family safe.

“Yes, Skyler,” she says, and she lets herself be human for a moment. “Good luck.”

I nod and stand up, fear clutching my throat like a vice as I leave.

–

I sit in my car in front of Cato’s skyscraper and read through the file one more time. It settles me, reviewing the string of mutilated bodies that have begun appearing in playgrounds around the city, just in time for recess. I think about Livia sauntering out of her classroom and stumbling onto one of these horror scenes, and rage and fear slice through me.

I am not the Ripper tearing through the city and I cannot stop her, but I can hold the leash of one who can hunt and kill her.

Unless he doesn’t want me either, and I wind up as dead as the last two Tamers.

Still, the thought of my niece motivates me to turn off the car and exit into the rolling heat and stench of the city in the summertime. Standing by my vehicle, I adjust the sleeves of my suit and run my hand through my hair. Then I turn toward the building.

The skyscraper is all blinding glass, surging upward toward the flawless blue of the sky. Cato’s apartment is right at the top. As I cross the street, I wonder if he’s watching me, if his eyes truly are keen enough to pick up some level of detail forty stories off the ground.

The doorman smiles at me as I pass, tugging on one of her honey curls with a coy smile. It’s clear she doesn’t recognize me for what I am, because no one looks at Tamers like that. Whatever we are—feared, worshiped, or scorned—we are necessary, but we are not built for casual flirtation or sex. In another world, perhaps I would linger at her desk, pull on one of those pretty curls myself.

But in this world, I merely nod at her. I wonder if she will recognize me when I come back down.

If I come back down.

The survival rate of Tamers at their first meeting with a potential Berserker is just under ninety percent, although mutilations and rejections are more common than that. If you have all your parts after the first hour, my trainer Sara liked to tell us, your likelihood of dying violently plummets … unless it doesn’t. Berserkers rarely let their Tamers die after they’ve accepted us, unless they kill us themselves. But even that is rare, and not always something the Berserker survives themselves.

Still, Cato has already undermined the statistics.

I press the up button and wait until the door opens with a cheery ding. The first thirty-nine floors are laid out in a neat row, but the button to the penthouse sits behind safety glass, only accessible after I step close enough that the scanner can sense the microchip that sits under my skin.

The elevator rises with a smooth purr, and I breathe deeply to control my nerves. Part of me wants to run and hide; part of me never expected to get this far. Tamers are rare, few and far between. The ones that are found often fail out of the program long before they are matched. And still, even after matching, there’s only a little less than a one in five chance at actually being chosen.

Cato has already run through the three Tamers he was most likely to accept. I am number four. Only Reynaldo will be left if I am killed, rejected, or incapacitated, but the important thing is that Cato accepts one of us. Still, I do not want it to be Reynaldo. Among the five of us, he is the one I least want it to be. Reynaldo is intolerable enough as he is—I can’t imagine him with the power of a Berserker behind him.

But I don't want it to be me either.

As the elevator rises, I fight the urge to run. It is just now setting in that in mere moments, the doors will open and I will be face to face with a monster. My monster, if he wants me. If he wants me, I will belong to him. There will be no more freedom or family or friends unless he allows it. There will be nothing but serving him and guiding his violence toward the ones who deserve it and away from the innocent.

It is important, necessary work. Work for which my family and I have been generously compensated since I hit puberty. And yet, fourth in line, I never expected to have to do anything more than train.

The elevator dings once more and opens.

I breathe deeply, reaching for any inner sense of calm I can find. One of the earliest lessons we are taught is to meditate, to control our fear and natural instincts. Berserkers are true predators, and fear only makes people—especially Tamers—increasingly resemble prey. I square my shoulders and enter the apartment, pulling confidence around myself like a cloak.

I step onto dark hardwood. The hallway is smooth and bare. There is a table next to the door for keys and coins. Beneath it are shoes. I see a pair of joggers and a neat row of gray oxfords, all buffed to gleaming. The jacket hanging on the wall on the other side of the door is as thick as fog and the same color. It will allow Cato to disappear in the night along the water's edge but will do nothing to hide the blood. I wonder why he has it when he isn’t supposed to have ever left the apartment. I wonder why it is hung up as if for daily use.

I swallow. I have been trained for Cato nearly my whole life. I know that Cato doesn’t care about hiding the blood. The apartment is silent and still. No lights are on. The hallway opens up into the living room, bracketed on three walls by floor-to-ceiling windows that look out over the entire city. I am drawn toward the view, as helpless to resist it as an insect flying into a spider's web.

There is no blood on the walls, but the stench of fear permeates the otherwise luxurious space. Still, there are no obvious bodies. On the left, the hallway branches into a chef's kitchen. I walk past it with a brief glance, just to make sure that there aren’t any bodies bleeding onto the tile.

I step into the living room with hackles raised. I feel vulnerable, but I force myself to breathe deeply and relax my shoulders. This is my job, this is my purpose. I have no control over Cato, not yet. There is no pretending or hiding—he will choose me or he will not. I will survive the encounter or I will not. Fearing it will only drive me crazy and give Cato more satisfaction.

I am petty enough that I do not wish my death to be fulfilling for Cato. Something moves in the right corner. My head turns to look and I exhale sharply in surprise. Amor looks back at me with a whimper.

My hand flies to cover my mouth. I have never liked Amor; she was always too pretty and too dangerous, both traits giving her power that she enjoys exerting over others. She planned to use her ambition and bloodlust to her advantage as a Tamer. It clearly backfired.

“Skyler,” she tries to say, but if it wasn’t my name I’m not sure I would have recognised it. Her mouth is destroyed. Blood dribbles over her torn lips in a congealed mess, sliding over her gore-stained chin and pooling on the floor beneath her. Broken teeth shine in her mouth as she struggles to control her jutting jaw, clearly dislocated at the very least, if not broken.

Rage rips through me, though I control it the same way I control my fear. Amor is broken, yes, but she is hardly dead. I don’t know why Ramona lied to me, but I intend to ask her, if I get out of this apartment alive, or at least able to speak.

“Where’s Elmar?” I demand, crouching in front of her, heedless of the blood.

Amor reaches for me, gripping my suit with a shaking, stained hand. She tries to speak again, but the state of her mouth makes it impossible. My stomach roils, fear and anger and disgust and pity joining forces to try and make me heave.

Coming in, I knew violence was possible, likely even. I have seen horrific videos and been given access to the crimes of the Rippers that stalk the streets, but this is far from a classroom.

I rise to my feet with a grimace. Amor is in no position to help me, so I leave her there, in a puddle of her own blood and drool. She will probably survive this if she stays silent and out of sight.

I still don't know where Cato is.

My hands drift up to my clavicle and I press against my skin, locating the transmitter just below the bone. It doesn’t hurt as I tap it, but it’s how I know that Ramona knows that Amor is alive. We are all tracked like animals. It’s supposed to keep us safe, and I am furious at Ramona for using it to convince me that Cato is crazy enough to have killed his Tamer. A lesson, I decide. No one is on my side.

I turn to the right, toward the bedrooms. I still need to locate Elmar and convince Cato to let me remove both of them from his territory. No one but his Tamer is allowed in his space, not without risking his wrath.

I think about Amor and feel sick. No one cares about exposing Tamers to their Berserker’s rage. It’s why we are there.

There is a noise behind one of the doors, a muffled panting, the squeak of furniture moving. My tongue skids across my suddenly dry lips. Another experiment? I wonder. Has Ramona sent me into the lair of a Berserker who has already claimed his Tamer? If so, I am already dead.

I am not sure what Ramona would get out of such a cruel game, but it doesn’t matter. If Elmer has done his job, then I have just become redundant. I fight back the urge to run before I am caught trespassing.

“It is rude to enter someone’s home without invitation,” a mild voice says. I freeze in my tracks, one hand reaching for the door. I grit my teeth and force myself to calm down.

“I apologize,” I reply, fighting hard to keep my voice from breaking. “I mean no disrespect. I was sent here to collect Amor and Elmar.” I keep my voice bland, as if finding the broken remains of the people with whom I was raised is pedestrian.

There is another noise; I think it is Elmar. I think that Elmar is with Cato right now. Something squeezes in my stomach at the thought. Worry for my friend perhaps, or maybe it is just fear for myself.

“By all means,” the voice responds, sweetly polite. “Do come in.”

I push the door open and step into the room. It’s an office, cozy and inviting. The walls are lined with stuffed bookshelves. In the corner, a worn leather chair sits under a lamp with a warm woolen afghan laying over the arm. The table next to it holds a book and a pair of glasses. Elmar is curled in the other corner, as far away from the desk as he can manage. He whimpers, one fist stuffed into his mouth to muffle the noises.

I don't see blood, but there are ways to break a person without making them bleed, and anyway, I don’t really even look. I can’t. I’m transfixed by the man sitting behind the desk, looking irritated at being disturbed. The man flicks his eyes over me dismissively before turning back to his newspaper. I recognize the picture on the sheet facing me. Unless Al’s Vacuum Emporium bought more than one ad for the morning edition, Cato is reading about the body left on the playground this morning. It has to be a good sign that he is already looking into this Ripper. His Ripper.

Cato doesn’t look dangerous, not right away. His eyes are brown and droopy under a flop of wavy brown hair that would just brush the tops of his shoulders if it wasn’t pulled back into a utilitarian ponytail. Even sitting down, I can see that he’s not a particularly tall man, but his body is lithe and graceful, each joint poised on the edge of action. His skin is rich and tan—from birth, not the sun. If I didn’t know exactly who this man was, I would dismiss him as a threat.

I stand, waiting, but he ignores me just as effectively as the hyperventilating man in the corner and the gurgling woman in the foyer. “Ramona sent me,” I tell him, just to say something. I didn’t think that I would care, but the idea of being ignored by this man in the same way as his other rejected Tamers riles me.

Cato looks up at me and I immediately regret drawing his attention. I freeze like a mouse under the beady glare of a falcon. Cato meets my gaze and I flush hot and cold in quick succession. There is no beating this man at any game, there is no escaping or running from him. If he decides that I am dead, I am dead. If he decides to keep me, I will be kept. No wonder Elmar broke, I think. He was always the softest one of us.

“Ramona needs to stop sending me toys to break,” Cato says. “It stopped being fun after the one in the living room. Is she still alive?”

My stomach quakes at the casual disregard Cato shows for people who have dedicated their lives to his service, but I try not to show it on my face. He is a predator, he will pounce at the first sign of weakness.

“Last I checked,” I say, as carelessly as I can manage. “Funny, that. Ramona sent me for their bodies. Are you the liar, or is she?” There is no evidence that Cato found and removed Amor’s chip, so I know the deception is Ramona’s, but I don’t know if Cato knows how closely we are monitored.

Cato smiles, a disingenuous thing.

“Do I look like a man who needs to lie to get what I want?” His posture in his chair is languid, but his eyes are sharp and hungry and focused on my face. My heart beats hummingbird-fast in my chest, and I feel unable to move for fear of provoking him to pounce.

I breathe deeply and force my shoulders to drop away from my ears. He will kill me or he won’t, I remind myself, so what’s the point in worrying about it?

“You look like a man who might not stick around to see if someone you hit gets back up,” I say before I can shut myself up. Cato’s unwavering brown eyes remain so intense that I think he can probably see the racing of blood in my carotid artery. The skin protecting it has never felt so fragile before. The words taste, a bit, of a lie. “If you don’t care about them, I mean,” I amend a bit clumsily, trying to make my statement ring true.

Cato cocks his head to one side and keeps looking at me. I want to look away, to shift my weight and break the tension, but I’m held in place just as firmly as if he had a hand around my throat. In the corner, Elmar whimpers quietly, curling around himself even tighter.

He is just the distraction that I need to pull myself from Cato’s thrall. I force my gaze away and go to my knees in front of my friend, reaching for him slowly.

“Hey, Elmar,” I greet, smoothing a gentle hand over one of his curls. “How are you doing?” I keep my voice as low and soothing as I can.

His eyes latch onto mine desperately, and it takes a moment for recognition to overtake the terror and desperation within them. He whimpers, one hand curling around the sleeve of my suit jacket tightly enough that I know he is scared I am going to leave him.

“What did you do to him?” I demand, turning back to Cato with a vicious snarl. It is unwise to let my fury get the best of me, but Elmar is my friend, and seeing him like this up close is too much.

Cato blinks back at me, interest glimmering in his droopy eyes. It sends a shudder through me, dark and enticing. Being the center of his focus is a dangerous place to be, and even though I have been training for it nearly my whole life, I want to run.

But that would only make him chase me. My nipples tighten underneath my shirt, until another whimper drags my attention back to Elmar, resparking my fury. “Well?” I demand harshly, twisting my lips at Cato as I stroke Elmar’s lovely black hair as gently as I can.

Cato’s eyes narrow on my hand on Elmar and his fingers twitch, a violent, aborted gesture that catches my breath in my throat. “I told Ramona I didn’t want a Tamer,” he says darkly. “I cannot feel guilty over her bad decisions. Get your pets and leave before I decide to break you too.”

A shiver runs through me. At the agency, it continues to be debated whether or not our predators are capable of feeling anything at all, let alone remorse for their actions. The few existing partners who lived long enough to become trainers are close-lipped about the ins and outs of their relationships, despite the rabid curiosity of the baby Tamers.

My temper sparks at his dismissal, even though it’s the permission I need to do my job. Shut up, Sky, I order myself, compressing my lips into a thin line. Just grab Elmar and get out. I’ve always been good at biting my tongue when I should and letting things go, but my mouth opens without my permission. “Break me?” I taunt, hauling Elmar up and supporting the majority of his body weight. “I’m not sure you could.”

I don’t even have time to regret my words before Cato is on me. Elmar slips from my grasp as he grabs me by the throat and shoves me back until I hit the wall. My pulse flutters rabbit fast under his grip but I don’t make the mistake of averting my eyes from his. Any sign of weakness will make him go for the kill, like a cat with a mouse by the tail.

“Oh little Tamer,” he croons, “I won’t even have to try. The only thing saving you now is my need to send Ramona a message. The next Tamer she gives me leaves in a body bag, do you understand?”

I should nod, apologize and flee. I tilt my head as much as I can instead. “Why?” I ask. “You can’t go to work without one of us, and you have five to choose from. Why fight it?”

“Hmmm,” Cato muses, bringing his nose to my pulse as if he can smell my fear. “You are not a reward or a partner, you are a leash and I have no wish to be caged any more than I already am.” I don’t understand what he means, not really, but his lips brush my throat as he speaks, with just enough of a hint of teeth to make me shiver with awareness.

Thoughtlessly, I bare my throat. He snarls and drags his tongue up the tendon in my throat and my world zeroes into the rough glide over my carotid. Just as quickly as he grabbed me, he shoves himself away from me with a violent snarl. “Get out,” he commands. “If you ever let me see you again I will kill you, do you understand me?”

I nod slowly, but I have to fight down a dark laugh. With the Ripper attacks increasing to the point of attempting to activate Cato, it is doubtful that Ramona will let him be, and that means that Reynaldo and I, and maybe even Elmar, will be thrust in front of him again and again until he fucks one of us or kills us all. The thought of Cato’s cock makes me pant, even though I know there is a high chance that I would not survive the encounter.

“It’s nice that you think that I have any choice in the matter,” I tell him honestly. “If you break us all, you’ll be of no use to them and they’ll put you down.”

Cato grins a bloodthirsty grin and I imagine my blood between his teeth. “We all have choices, little Tamer. Theirs might have consequences if they try.”

My heart thumps out of rhythm at that. Even though I know that no single Berserker, no matter how determined, can bring down the entire system that keeps him corralled, the surety in his tone ripples through me. If Cato chooses to, he will come at them with unflagging aggression until he is destroyed. Who knows how many people will die in the crossfire?

I care because I will be one of them. As far as Ramona is concerned, he is my responsibility now, even if he rejects me. Tamers are both the carrot and the stick, the reward and the noose around our Berserker’s throat, at all times a passive threat to their lives.’

“Then you should kill me now,” I advise, somehow driven to honesty. The thought doesn’t fill me with as much fear as it should. My life has been tied to Cato’s since I was twelve years old. I’ve long since come to terms with the idea of my death at his hands.

It would be vaguely galling to die in a dick measuring contest, but that, like most things, is out of my control.

“Kill you now,” Cato repeats, tightening his grip on my throat until I think he’s going to do it. He’s going to tear my head from my body and traumatize Elmar further. I don’t have time to be afraid until he’s already stepping back, dismissing me with a careless flick of his wrist. “Get out.”

I pull Elmar up and against my side and then take him from the room. It’s hard to juggle him and Amor, but I manage to get us all into the elevator and pull out my phone. Come get us, I text Ramona, because the thought of getting them back to the agency myself is overwhelming and I can’t bring myself to worry about formality after coming so close to decapitation.

And it was close. Now that I am out from under those flat brown eyes I can’t stop shaking. Freezing sweat clings to my skin and dampens my suit, which will begin to smell as it dries. I lean against the cold marble wall in the lobby, barely attempting to supervise the other two Tamers on the uncomfortable gray couch.

Amor is staining it with blood, but I can’t bring myself to care. The doorman is looking over at us nervously, hands fluttering over the phone on her desk like she’s trying to decide between calling security or an ambulance. I catch her eye and shake my head slowly. She knows who lives in the apartment we just left, knows what I am now. She subsides and pretends to ignore us, but she can’t hide her unease.

Ramona doesn’t text me back, but within fifteen minutes a black sedan with tinted windows pulls up in front of the building, parking illegally. I am still too rattled to snort derisively, no matter how unsubtle the agency is.

The lobby floods with medics and supervisors. The medics hurry over to Amor and Elmar, wrapping them in blankets and rushing them out the door. I wait numbly. A man and a woman in matching suits approach me.

“Were you harmed?” the woman asks. She doesn’t care. If they really worried about my health, one of the healthcare workers would have been sent.

I don’t bother to answer her. “Take me to Ramona,” I demand tonelessly, watching the van bearing Elmar disappear around the corner.

The suits don’t even bother to glance at each other. “The director is a busy woman,” the man says. “You will come with us for debriefing.”

I do not argue. I let my anger go, for now, at least, and I follow them from the building and into one of the remaining vans.

I do not look up as I get in the backseat. I won’t be able to pick out the window of Cato’s office, but I don’t want him to see me glance back at him, on the off chance he cares enough to look at all.

–

The woman who takes my statement back at headquarters is petite and blonde, but her eyes and fingernails are sharp enough to peel the whole story from me and type it into her tablet. I do not hold back. I do not hide my anger and disgust at being deceived by Ramona about the state of the other Tamers. I do not hide how close Cato came to killing me. The only thing I do not share is the way my gut clenched as his fingers closed over my windpipe.

That is not a necessary detail, mostly because it would surprise no one. There is a reason I am a Tamer, and my sexual preferences play a role in that. They are common knowledge in this building, my fantasies a matter of public record. There is no such thing as privacy for Tamers.

How much of my statement the woman edits, I do not know. How much more will be deleted or retracted does not matter. I still feel a bit better when I run out of words. She doesn’t look like she feels anything at all. She stands up, snaps her tablet closed and nods at me crisply. “Ramona will be with you shortly,” she tells me, heels clicking sharply on her way across the floor and out the door.

–

She lied. Ramona doesn’t summon me before dinner, and I don’t feel like sticking around, eating mass-produced food off of a plastic tray before trotting off to my small, sterile set of rooms. I leave headquarters at sunset and only then remember that my car is still outside of Cato’s building, probably already papered with parking tickets.

I won’t have to pay them—a special privilege of being a Tamer—but the fact remains that I do not have my car. My stomach grumbles and I glance over my shoulder towards the building behind me, wondering if I should eat, but the thought of re-entering Cato’s territory after dark makes me shudder.

Another, bigger part of me pushes back against that. I don’t like the thought of him looking down from his window and seeing my car, knowing that I fear him too much to retrieve it. I can’t beat him, can’t fight him off if he catches me, but I still can’t just let him win.

I go back inside, but not for food.

I find Reynaldo on the balcony of the large suite of rooms we share with the rest of Cato’s potential Tamers. It is too late for coffee, but he doesn’t care. “Espresso?” he asks me, tilting his own porcelain cup in my direction.

I wrinkle my nose. I will have enough nightmares tonight without having to fight off caffeine. “I need a ride.”

Reynaldo raises an eyebrow. “Why would I do anything to help you?” he sneers.

I shrug. I know that he wishes Cato had killed or maimed me the same way he did the others. I know that he wants the power of being a claimed Tamer, that the danger and exclusivity get him off. The thing is, they get us all off. We are all deviant in that way, some of us just know how to hide it better than the others.

“You’re taking me to Cato’s home,” I explain, purposefully leaving out the reason why. Let him stew in it as he plots to get rid of me the whole ride.

Reynaldo’s other eyebrow joins the first one near his hairline. “You want him to meet me?” he asks dubiously, sensing a trap.

No. My lips twitch, hiding my instinctive rejection of that notion. “The odds of you making it out of the meeting without being maimed are awfully low,” I point out. “But I do not care what he does with you.” Something tightens in my stomach, and I hate that I am lying a little bit. I blink, and I imagine Cato pressing Reynaldo against the wall the same way he had me, but this time, instead of threatening him, Cato takes his mouth, and Reynaldo moans and opens to him.

I look away, exhaling the tension from my stomach. “If he picks me,” Reynaldo says casually, abandoning his espresso with a faint clink. “I’ll let him kill you.”

I roll my eyes. “You do that.”

Reynaldo grabs his keys and follows me from the room. We don’t talk at all on the way down to the lobby, but the elevator is crowded enough that the hum of conversation would be undesirable even if Reynaldo were someone I would want to talk to.

The ride is quiet too. Reynaldo plays music, but I ignore him and it. With each block that we pass, my stomach gets tighter and tighter and my lungs climb higher and higher up my throat. I feel restless and anxious, and worst of all, thrilled. Adrenaline sings through my blood as Reynaldo pulls into a loading zone beneath Cato’s building.

I look up at the windows, but even if I could identify which ones were his, I can’t see through them.

I still feel like I’m being watched. A chill races its way down my spine and crouches in my tailbone. I glance over at Reynaldo to see if he feels it too. He doesn’t tell me, of course, but he’s gone still and silent in the driver's seat. His eyes are thoughtful and pointed upwards. “Get out,” he says with teeth.

I pull the lever of the door until it releases. “His violence is escalating. He really might kill you.” I don’t particularly care about Reynaldo or his life, but I still warn him. If he ignores me, that’s on him. There are very few laws that can govern a Tamer, but we still aren’t allowed to straight up murder each other, especially over a Berserker. There are multiple of us and one of them, and only one spot up for grabs, but only a handful of potential Tamers actually want the job.

It is a much better prospect to survive any introduction with our Berserker with as few scars as possible and take our pensions and flee back to our families. But most of us are perverse and damaged and jealous.

Not all Tamers have a family to go home to. But I do. I shake all thoughts of Reynaldo and Cato from my brain as I cross the street.

I feel heavy eyes watching me until I drive away.

As soon as I step into my brother’s house, I feel like I can breathe again. It smells like warmth and tomato sauce and home, and Livia hears me coming. “Uncle Sky!” she howls, bare feet slapping against the hardwood as she races down the hall. She skids around the corner and flings herself at me like a rabid cat, seemingly determined to knock me to the ground. I catch her and swing her around with a laugh.

“Hello, beast,” I rub my face in her riot of curly hair and drop her back down to her feet. She is wiry and lean and my favorite person. “What trouble are we going to cause tonight?”

“You know her teachers blame us for her bad behavior, right?” Ilona comments from the doorway, a small smile tugging at her lips. “No matter how often we tell them it’s your fault.”

I grin back at her, lifting Livia out of my way so I can cross the floor and kiss my sister in law on the cheek. “We need to work on your lying. Ask your daughter, she’s a fast learner.”

“That,” Ilona scolds with a laugh, “is exactly the kind of stuff that’s getting you both in trouble!”

I laugh with her, letting the blood and shame and uncomfortable interest leak from me. My shoulders relax and everything within me loosens. Down the hall, Oskar calls my name from the kitchen and I swoop up my niece and follow my ears and nose to my brother.

–

After dinner, Ilona takes Livia to the living room for homework, and Oskar and I slowly begin to clear the table and start the dishes. “It’s time, isn’t it?” Oskar asks softly as he fills the sink with hot, soapy water.

I scowl and wring the dish towel between my fingers until they go red and numb. “It doesn’t have to be,” I tell him.

“But Cato was activated,” Oskar presses, as usual, intolerant of my bullshit.

I shrug. “He maimed Kari and Amor and broke Elmar. I doubt I’m tempting enough to make him obey if they weren’t. Chances are, I’ll be released by the end of the week and we can move out of this shit-hole city—”

“You love this city,” Oskar interrupts. “And you didn’t tell me about Reynaldo, or when they’re going to hand you over to him like a toy.”

“I don’t know about Reynaldo,” I hedge, not wanting to tell my brother that I have been tossed to Cato—and returned. “He’s there now.”

Oskar drops the dish he is scrubbing into the sink with a soapy clatter and grips my arm tightly, dampening my shirt. “That’s great, Sky,” he rasps, pulling me into a brief, hard hug. “If he picks him, you’ll be free!”

Something rises in my throat, choking me. It is likely, since Cato let me leave untouched, that he has no intention of keeping me, leaving Reynaldo his only option if he wishes to remain unculled. The thought of Reynaldo beneath Cato makes me want to make him vomit his own blood.

I ignore that thought. It has no place in my brother's lamp-lit kitchen. “I hope so,” I say, the lie bitter and burning as bile.

–

Later, alone in my bed in Oskar’s house, I give the question another answer. “I hope he picks me,” I say to myself. I still feel sick, nausea and fear colliding in my bloodstream. I don’t want to be picked. I don’t want to be torn from my life and my family and turned into a monster’s chew toy.

“I hope he picks Reynaldo,” I say instead. The sinking in my stomach calls me a liar. I think about standing in Ramona’s office and looking at Reynaldo’s smug bitch face as she thanks me for my service and dismisses me. I think about turning on the TV the night I move into my little cabin out of the city and catching the end of Reynaldo’s press conference detailing the capture and execution of the Ripper currently dissecting fifth graders. Cato would watch him, fascination in his droopy mahogany eyes as Reynaldo answered the questions, shirt opened enough to reveal the marks Cato left deeply enough to be visible, even on skin dark as Reynaldo’s.

The thought makes me want to hurt them both. It isn’t logical or reasonable—it isn’t me. I have never coveted a man, and only partly because we are kept away from lovers as much as possible. It isn’t supposed to work this way. Berserkers might fixate on their chosen Tamer as soon as they see them, but I have never heard of any Tamer who felt the same way.

Of course, I never see any Tamer once they are claimed.

As soon as a Berserker is activated, they are introduced to their potentials within days if not hours. The chosen Tamer disappears into the Berserkers lair and is only ever seen again on TV or in brief, stolen glimpses through glass.

They even use a separate elevator when they come into headquarters.

But we are taught that it is the Berserker who knows. It has never occurred to me to ask how the Tamer feels. Of course, I never really thought—I never planned on being picked myself.

I roll over. I haven’t been, I remind myself, staring at the silent phone on the bedside table.

My stomach hurts.

–

The phone rings.

I’m not sleeping. I’m watching light climb the shadows from my blinds like a stepladder in the early morning and thinking, quite intentionally, of absolutely nothing else.

“What?” I say, bringing my phone to the pillow and turning on the speaker. It’s not a particularly professional greeting, but there’s nothing professional about calling someone before six in the morning either. Besides, what are they going to do? Fire me?

The pit in my stomach yawns further, because probably. It is rare for a Tamer to face any true punishment for our behavior. We are too important, too valuable. It is often assumed that rejection and claiming are equally punishing. But endangering another Tamer is a bad enough crime to warrant expulsion from the order.

No pension, no relevant job experience or training, and the intense public shame and judgment for your actions.

I shudder, still waiting for the voice on the other end of the line. “Reynaldo is dead,” Ramona says crisply. “You should not have allowed him to approach Cato’s building after you had not been rejected.”

I go hot, and then cold. My breath catches in my throat and I am hit with a wave of emotions. Relief, terror, grief, fury. “I am not his mother,” I say numbly. “I cannot allow him anything. He offered to drive me back to my car so I could get home. I did not tell him to go to the apartment, and I’m not sure how you expected me to stop him.”

It’s not entirely true. I had known what he would do, and I had made no real effort to stop him. But I hadn’t expected, hadn’t truly thought, that Cato would kill him, leaving me the only option if he wishes for a Tamer.

“Come in,” Ramona says, her voice dark and empty and cold. I shiver at it. She is angry, yes, and still in control of me, but any consequences for my actions will not come from her. Not until—not unless, Cato goes rogue, and if he does, likely as not he’ll begin or end his rampage with me. I am dead if he kills me and dead if he spares me. My only chance at living, regardless of quality of life, is under Cato’s thumb.

My heart pounding, I sit up. I could run. Necessarily, I have not told anyone at the agency of my retirement plan or the cabin I have slowly been stashing my money away for. I could take it and vanish, move beyond the reach of the agency's control, across the sea where finding me would be difficult, where unleashing Cato would be a disaster for everyone.

I dismiss the idea almost immediately, because if they cannot find me, they’ll start with Oskar and Ilona, and selfish as I might be, I can’t be responsible for their deaths or imprisonment.

My stomach burns, but I can’t tell if it's because of grief, excitement or dread. I am quiet when I get ready, and thorough in the shower. My fingers shake slightly as I clean my body, paying particular attention to the cleft of my ass. From here on out, I do not know what to expect. Tamers are prepared for everything up until the moment of being chosen, but there is nothing predictable about what happens after. Berserkers are too different, too wild and unique in their reactions to being leashed. Some treat their freedom as a cost well worth paying for their Tamers, some treat their Tamer like a whipping boy, suitable to punish in lue of the agency.

But it’s always, always, sexual. It’s what we both were made for, the reason the system works and is not torn apart by apathetic Berserkers and bloodthirsty Rippers alike.

I have known my role since I was identified as a Tamer at puberty; it is not like me to question it.

I am quiet when I leave my bedroom, not relishing sharing my mixed feelings about my fate with my family, but my effort is wasted. Oskar is in the kitchen, brewing the morning coffee. He looks up when I creep by the doorway and holds up a steaming mug in offer. I consider ignoring him, but I don’t know when I’ll be able to see him again.

“Thanks,” I whisper and enter the kitchen, warming my hands around the hot porcelain.

“What’s going on?” he asks, because when I stay over I make waffles with Livia for breakfast, not sneak out at dawn like a criminal.

“I got the call,” I tell him, making it real. “I’m the last Tamer left.”

Oskar puts his mug down, ceramic rattling against the marble. “Skyler,” he breathes, eyes wide.

I look away. “I know,” I interrupt before he can say anything else. I don’t need to hear his reaction. I know all too well how inevitability can turn into impossibility and back again.

“What are you going to do?” Oskar says after a stunted pause.

I chug my coffee just for the burn and put the empty cup into the sink.

“My job,” I tell him and leave the kitchen. This time he lets me go. He doesn’t follow me into the hall while I pull my coat on, or out to the driveway as I get in my car. I’m glad he doesn’t. If we don’t say goodbye, this can’t be the last time I see any of them.

#spicy books #mm romance

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magicalyaku · 1 year ago

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I had vacation and tooth surgery and thus a lot of time to be lazy! <3 A chunk of it I spent listening to the narrations of some creepypasta series. Though, honestly, I'm not sure they can be called that? They're more episodic paranormal stories. Yes, there's monsters running around and dangerous, maybe scary stuff going on, but they're also incredibly wholesome and soo sweet and very queer! So if you're into that, go look for the stories written by @02321 on r/nosleep and Youtube! My Name's Skyler, I'm a Freelance P.I. narrated by Baron Landred (the title on r/nosleep is I Work as a P.I and a Government Agent approached me to help with a case) and I Deliver Mail to Cryptids narrated by Animas. (And also a bunch of stories more set in the same universe of the Silver King.)

Now back to our regular books! We have 4 princes, 2 kings and 1 queen this month!

Banshee Blues (Nina Blazon): I'm in the editing process of my latest novel, which I'm writing in German, so I felt I should read a German, non-translated book for once. This was the only one in my pile but it is from my favourite German author, so all was well. I have a lot to thank her for. The first novel read from her was Der Dunkle Kuss der Sterne (The Stars' Dark Kiss) and that was the first time I liked first-person viewpoint! Her next book had split POV and different tenses and I had to admit it was done well. Banshee Blues was not quite up to par with her previous works but it went a few new directions than usual which was nice as well. It tried very hard to lead you astray with what's going on and who is evil and who isn't. And while I liked how things turned out between the two leads it would have been monumental to have them stay platonic.

The Fallen King's Penitent Soldier (Tales of the High Court 5) (Megan Derr): Sigh, it's been a ride. I had a good time with the whole series. I love the worldbuilding, really. But it is alright to end it here, while it's still good, you know. In a way, these five stories are all built very similar: Being kidnapped by bad guys, running from the bad guys or running after the bad guys for the first half and afterwards waiting to let other people sort it out. There's probably a limited amount of iterations you can go through while still be interesting. But for these five volumes it was fun! As for book 5 by itself, I think it's a good thing it comes so late in the series. Because it really takes its time. There's a lot introspection going on for the two protagonists which is okay because they go through a lot but it's also very long and sometimes not much else happens. I liked the two of them, I liked how religion was handled, I liked how it went full circle back to Allen's story. I liked the series. Good times. :)

Prince & Knight (Daniel Haack & Stevie Lewis): I wanted this for the pretty pictures. But apparently the universe didn't want me to? I ordered this last year already, but the package went on an odyssee through several cities without ever arriving at my home. I ordered it again this year and … the same thing happened?! 8D The odyssee was shorter this time, mind you, but … why again?! I tried a third time and ordered it for pick up at a local bookstore and that finally worked. Geez! It's a children's picture book so the story is as basic as it goes. Is it goo for children? I wouldn't know. The dragon doesn't die and it's very sweet and very pretty.

In all seinen Farben (Boy Queen) (George Lester): I had some exhausting weeks at work and thought I could use something inspirational. Something about finding your own way and shine. Which happens in this book but there's also a lot of drama going on and I was not prepared for the rock-bottom-hit in the beginning. xD I mean, it was written in the blurb but I've owned the book for a year why should I reread the blurb … I know nothing about drag or make-up or anything in that direction (I did watch like 15 minutes of the drag show at Comic Con Stuttgart last year but that hardly counts), so it was charming and interesting to read about.

We Could Be so Good (Cat Sebastian): I have to apologise to everyone on the waitlist for this at my library because I could have read it faster but … once I realised what sort of direction the 70% drama might take I had a tough time reading on. They were so happy and it was nice and I just did not want to suffer! I did assume, since the book goes out of its way to address how all queer books published during the mid of the last century would have to end badly (and the protagonist outright refusing to read them therefore), it would probably take a turn for a happy ending. That was the only hope that kept me going. If I had known any of the author's other work I maybe wouldn't have worried so much, because it's written in her bio already that she'll only write happy endings?! Well … So for anyone else fearing the drama of a book set in 1959: No queer person was harmed in this book! (Nothing major anyway.) I like the book, though! Enjoyed reading it. Nick and Andy are both sweet. But that fear did something to me, took me a while to recover. :'D

Prince & Assasssin (Perilous Courts 1) (Tavia Lark): I needed something simple for my fragile heart and it seems gay fantasy is my comfort read now in the same way my mom reads stuff named like "The Little Bakery at XYZ Street". And what should I tell you, yeah, there're men who are tenderly and not so tenderly intimate with each other, yeah yeah, but there's also giant talking cats! Giant talking cats! Also, I really like the author's writing style. It's so smooth! I started reading and didn't want to put it down anymore because it read so smoothly! The book itself was so much better than I had expected (which was basically nothing). It won't blow you off your feet but it's pretty enjoyable and surprisingly wholesome. Also the worldbuilding felt just right. I'm looking forward to reading the next volumes soon!

King of Immortal Tithe (Darkmourn 2) (Ben Alderson): Did I buy the expensive hardcover just because I like the illustration more than the one of the paperback? Why hello, that's me. So this is the second fae book I read this year. It's apparently a universal truth now that fae men are the most beautiful and well endowed beings on earth and beyond. Not that I mind, you do you, but why does fae anatomy work the same as humans' actually? Anyway, this is a stand-alone in a series of stories all set within the same universe. I like that concept. Hunting for pieces of lore is fun. Arlo is a feisty character so following him was enjoyable. The switch from enemy to lovers was kinda sudden like … I can see why but personally it still felt sudden. Also Faenir calling Arlo constantly Darling was not my taste but you know, if it's just that, I can overlook it. The twist at the end had me barking out evil laughter (which means approval). I did hold back reading the final chapter until I read the first volume as not to spoil any more! (While they are stand-alones the previous story is referenced in this one.)

Lord of Eternal Night (Darkmourn 1) (Ben Alderson): "He was so tall and his hands were so large and his length was so great and so thick my fingers couldn't touch reaching around it. He was not just a man, he was a god!" I laughed. That's not a literal quote, but a good summary. Yeah. I laughed. And while praising one guy he was also dissing his former lover, the baker's son, for not being as large. Not the poor lad's fault, no need to get mean! Should have known at that point already who was the true evil mastermind. :'P. But in all fairness, there is a little more going on in the story. And well, these books know very well what kind of fantasy they're catering. There's a short guy, a little crafty and feisty, not too weak, and the very tall, very beautiful guy who everyone says is evil, but turns out he isn't so evil, he just has a tragic past, he also falls very hard for the protagonist and oops, maybe he does have some capacity for evil. I did like how the story subverted who's good and who's bad like three times. Otherwise, it's not really complex. But I'm kinda into the ending.

Alpha of Mortal Flesh (Darkmourn 3) (Ben Alderson): The third installment in the series, they've been getting more elaborate with each volume. So instead of the 2 and 3 half characters we had in the first one, there's actually a whole cast in here with motivations and backstories. That was nice. The writing style, however, is still as … trying as hard as in the beginning. It's not bad, mind you, I commend it for trying to use the full range of the English language, but there's a lot of words, making everything longer than needed, and sometimes their choice is really weird. Example: "My tongue broke free. It slithered from the confines of my mouth." But it's just a normal human tongue licking something eagerly yet still very normally! And, they're indie books, yeah, but I do wish all three books would have gone through another round of editing. The unnecessary repetitions and errors made me suffer a little. And while I got a little bored and impatient at the end I do like the story and what it's trying to do. Just that it was trying too hard in some aspects of the writing and not hard enough in others.

That's it for July! Apparently, August will be library month again. My TBR bookshelf disapproves but duh. Let's go and have fun. :P

#yaku reads #books #queer books #lgbtq books #queer lit #bookblr #creepypasta #i deliver mail to cryptids #nick & skyler #we could be so good #darkmourn #lord of eternal night #prince & knight #banshee blues #tales of the high court #perilous courts #prince & assassin #boy queen

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mikheleworld · 2 months ago

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#monsters at work #tylor tuskmon #val little #cutter #fritz #duncan p anderson #roger rogers #mike wazowski #james p. sullivan #sulley #johnny worthington #chet alexander #claire wheeler #skyler #joy #chompy

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eyecicles · 2 years ago

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Since Breaking Bad is now a topic in the fandom I wanted to ask how similar Light and Walter are in your opinion?

That question doesn’t have an easy answer. So let’s compare them:

Similarities:

-- They were both meant to be relatively good people in the beginning (yes, I know some people disagree, but this is specifically about what their creators said about them), but then something happened that made them the worst versions they can be of themselves. Neither of them were flawless at any point, but let's not forget that people aren't just doomed to be either all good or all bad. It's all about the decisions we make (+ random stuff that happens to us). That's exactly what I like about DN and BB, by the way—you can see that if things went a little differently, both protagonists could have turned out alright.

-- At the beginning, they do horrible stuff for—seemingly—noble reasons. I know, I know: they also greatly enjoy being on top, making people do what they want them to do, and taking down powerful, smart people. But I don't think they knew how much they would like that right from the beginning. The desires to change the world or financially secure one's family aren't fake, just because they are also power-hungry.

-- They also both think (know, in Walter's case) they're going to die soon. It's often overlooked that Light wrote so many names in the Death Note before Ryuk showed up, because he thought Ryuk was going to take his soul. He wanted to make a difference in the world before that happened. So they're both driven by a sense of urgency. Cancer and Ryuk aren't the same thing, of course, but honestly? Ryuk as a metaphor for a terminal illness could be quite interesting.

-- Both are extremely smart and they know it. They aren't just book smart, either, but know how to plan ahead, creatively work around obstacles, and accurately predict their enemies next moves. They're sly and resourceful.

-- They look down on other people for being less smart, less controlled or less proactive. And while Light is the one with the outright sexist thoughts, I think Walter's treatment of Skyler is partly sexist as well. He doesn't respect her autonomy, dismisses her concerns and ideas unless things get dire, confines her, and, of course, assaults her at one point. While he treats other people worse, you can't help but notice that what he puts her through resonates with many women in unhappy relationships. In any case: they're both quite arrogant and don't care much about other people's perspectives.

-- Their partners in crime (Misa and Jesse) are less brainy than them (sorry), more impulsive and emotional, and regularly get them into precarious situations.

-- Both have a member of their family on a task force meant to hunt them down. And both use that fact for themselves. Ah! They also see them die right in front of their eyes and are partly to blame for that.

-- They are seen as too nice and upright to ever do crimes of that calibre throughout most of the stories.

-- Pride plays an important role for both. Their enormous egos aren't apparent to the people around them, but you can still see it even when they put on an act.

-- Thinking about it, they also went through something similar regarding their first murders. It was more deliberate in Walter's case, but also not actively malicious but a form of self-defence. How they became murderers against their will certainly was part of what made them go down a dark path.

-- And although they become practically monsters, both are still willing to risk losing for the sake of someone they love (Sayu in Light's case, mostly Jesse in Walter's case).

-- Fun aliases: "Kira" and "Heisenberg"

-- Both like khaki pants...

Differences:

-- Breaking Bad has no supernatural elements. It feels less grand, but more personal. Kira attempts to dominate the entire world, while Heisenberg is a more local problem.

-- Light is popular; he has conventionally good looks, is athletic, and people expect a lot from him. Walter is more seen as a pushover, little more than an, albeit very smart, high school teacher.

-- This is why Light is very confident right at the beginning, while Walter feels completely out of his element. He also makes more obvious mistakes than Light. (I have to mention here yet again that a lot of what people commonly see as a mistake on Light's part was actually deliberate, like letting the entire world know that Kira exists or letting L know that he has connections to the police).

-- Walter comes to fully embrace his crimesona, while Light fights to change the world's perspective of Kira as a just God. Heisenberg is meant to be an intimidating drug lord—Kira is meant to be justice.

-- You know, Misa and Jesse have kinda similar roles, but their dynamics with Light and Walter respectively are almost opposite. Light is forced to work with Misa, has to act as her romantic partner and sees her as easily replaceable, while she practically worships him. But Walter approaches Jesse, has to regularly persuade him into helping him, and they're at the beginning openly hostile towards each other. And it's debatable what Walter thinks of Jesse in the end, but he regularly saves and protects him, even after he no longer "needs" him. (Not all that relevant, but I just realised that Mikami and Saul are polar opposites.)

-- Light pretty much ignores that Ryuk tells him he's the one who will kill him in the end, while Walter is quick to accept his eventual-too-early death. Light doesn't even take the Shinigami Eyes deal, because he wants to live as long as possible, while Walter wants to die at several points. He's in general much more miserable than Light.

-- Their endings are also pretty different. Walter roughly knew what was going to happen, attempted to make some amends, and did one last kinda noble thing before he died. Light died humiliated after his plan went completely wrong. Anime!Light's death is more similar to Walter's. At least they both got to be completely honest about who they are + their motivations right before they die.

-- There's also one important element in Breaking Bad that Death Note lacks: Walter constantly tries to save his relationships with his family, both before and after they knew what he's doing. Light manages to keep being Kira a secret from his family forever. Light isn't as conflicted, and certainly never has to fight for his family's affection.

-- Light being a young guy and Walter being in his 50s gives them pretty different outlooks from the get-go. It wouldn't surprise me if a teenaged Walter was a bit more like Light. But yeah, Light has his entire life ahead of him and wants to take on the entire world, while Walter wants to do something exciting, something that makes him feel alive before he dies.

-- Breaking Bad also doesn't have someone like L: the one true antagonist who plays a part in the protagonist's downfall even after his death. It gives Death Note a specific atmosphere. Walter doesn't have a nemesis that matches and contrasts him in equal parts, because his story is more about his family and knocking criminals down to take their place. Hank and Gus sometimes fulfil a similar role, but they're still not comparable to L (or Near).

#anon #asks #light yagami #meta #death note

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pokemon-fangirl-myth · 8 months ago

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SwSh HC's I've had in the Vault for the past few years (removing various minor OCs)

Full Names

Leon Hart Eudios

Hop Astralis Eudios

Soren “Skyler” Griffin Eudios (The boys' dad)

Amelia Katharine Paganous (The boys' mom) (she use to be the major league flying type gym leader of Hammerlocke! :D)

Raihan Vouivre (Wyvern) Laburn (Laburn from a friend on the Champion Time Server)

Nessa Locke (hehhe loch ness monster joke)

Oleana Delila (I don't recall from where)

Malcolm Rose (I don't recall from where)

General Hcs (straight from my notes)

Raihan’s been all over the world, travelling seven regions before settling on Galar because its close to home and because he made the most amount of friends there

The process in which a new Champion is chosen if the current one dies or retires is complicated. They have to have a list of at least four trainers who they would recommend for the Champion position in such cases ready, and then those selected trainers would have to battle with the Gym Leaders and Elite Four (assuming that the people on the list isn’t a Leader or Elite)

Mustard’s successor was a Poison, Ice, and Psychic type specialist who hailed from Galar’s Tundra

Leon wrote down Sonia and Raihan as who would be the ones to take his crown should anything tragic befall him, but he also has Mustard on that list just in case

Ages: 12 (Allister), 14 (Hop), 15 (Marnie, Bede), 17 (Bea, Avery, Klara, Hyde), 20 (Sonia, Leon, Milo), 21 (Raihan, Piers, Nessa), 22 (Gordie)

Had the roles been reversed a bit, Sonia would've been Galar's Champion

That's due to Sonia being a potential Sword to Leon's potential Shield, the wolves choose people who were always set to be on even playing fields in terms of combat capabilities. But if there was ever a point where that balance is tipped over to the favour of one, then the synergy between the Sword & Shield together in combat would be disastrous

Kabu's Team when he was a lad: Pelliper, Relicanth, Vileplum, Dusclops, Altaria, Manectric, Linoone, Mightyena, Magcargo, Camperupt, Shiny Ninetales, and Blaziken

A lot of trainers generally have monotype teams due to the easier training, food, and care requirements

Marnie had a surprisingly normal Gym Challenge, outside of telling off Team Yell every now and then, she was pretty much just Vibin’

Isle Of Armor Hc's

Leon & Sonia both got a Kubfu but Sonia gave up too soon and Leon got lost

Sonia would’ve chosen the Tower of Water and Leon would’ve chosen the Tower of Darkness

Sonia thought that since she’s friends with Nessa and thus familiar with water types, it would’ve been easier on her to go through the Water Tower

Leon thought the Tower of Darkness sounded tougher, but after getting a bit too lost he decided that either would work but he would’ve preferred the Tower of Darkness

Raihan started his battle practice with Sandstorms in the Isle, which continued to happen once he found a place that would regularly have and be accustomed to Sandstorms (ex: the Desert in Hoenn)

Despite that, he caught his Tyranitar in Kalos and brought it along for his journey through Unova

Klara and Avery are siblings who hail from one of the settlements on the Tundra. To try and bring more fame and attention to their precious home, Klara tried to become a popstar and Avery tried to become a famous Psychic alongside some distant relatives

They quickly switched to try and become Gym Leaders once those goals prove to be too difficult, but after finding a more than worthy challenger in the MC & Co.

The Master Dojo is actually a multi-story building but also an extremely wide one, not as wide as most would except but wider than they think

When not used to be a trail for the one who has the Isle’s Sacred Armour, its a regular training building

But if one requests it, they can have the special training activated for them and a few others for a session

Mustard did use to be the Stow-On-Side Gym Leader, but that was years before Bea’s time so she doesn’t even know it until she visits the Isle for training

Hyde’s a teenager, he’s just really short

He half-assedly participated in the Gym Challenge and got his ass kicked by her in the Cup

Honey is still part of her old Company, but as a distant investor and consultant

Mustard only allows himself to go all out on Four trainers: Leon, Honey, Sonia, and Opal

Sonia doesn’t know that she’s one of them because Self-Esteem Issues

He adds Marnie, Bede, and Hop to this list once he sees their potential

He also adds Raihan when that boy finally becomes Leon’s official Rival, Piers when he finally finds confidence in his battling skill, and Nessa

Leon, surprisingly, didn’t get lost in the Isle except for the one time when he was going to the Tower with Kubfu, but that was due the raging Sandstorms

Sonia also had a Kubfu, but due to storm she gave up and returned it, no objections

Leon & Sonia’s starters are actually from Mustard, but due to someone pulling some strings, they got them as their first Pokemon

Leon’s capable of hand-to-hand combat, Sonia’s an expert on disarming someone with a weapon

Despite this, Leon’s a Shield and Sonia’s a Sword

They returned their Kubfu to Mustard because they felt like they failed

In another timeline, Mustard would give those two to the next Sword and Shield, to— Hop

In another timeline, Mustard would give those two to the next Sword and Shield, to— Victor

In another timeline, Mustard would give those two to the next Sword and Shield, to— Gloria

Mustard wasn’t the Champion Leon had to battle to be crowned, but Mustard knew that if Leon could match him— and eventually beat him— that that boy could become Galar’s Champion

Mustard’s lost partner Pokemon is not known by the press of current times, only Opal truly knows what it was. As does Honey. Some guess it was an Eevee, many more suggest an Eeveelution

The only way Sharpedo don't go after you while in the water is either to use a boat or have several water type Pokemon out and around for your own safety

Don't use red boats though, they confuse it for prey. Leon and Piers learned the hard way

Nessa refuses to train any of the Psyduck line because back in the Isle as a challenger, she saw one sneeze in a cave and released a bit shockwave that punted her to a wall and knocked her out

Honey terrifies everyone of the young Adult Crew (Piers, Leon, Sonia, Raihan, Nessa, Milo, and Gordie) as much as they adore her

Crown Tundra Hcs

Malcom was the one who always looked out for both of them, him and Peony, when they were kids so Peony could have a childhood

This, in turn, made Malcom a lot more serious and ‘mature’ at a younger age while Peony is a bit too naive as an adult

The Mayor of the settlement is Klara and Avery’s grandfather, who raised them alongside the settlement after he took them in after their parents died

Avery and Klara practically inhaled and ate up every piece of information they could find on the King, because he could make their home better, right? He could make it so their friends don’t have to leave with their parents to the big city, right?

Calyrex watched Klara and Avery grow up, the two kids being it only source of power for years, but then they left, not long after giving up on believing it’s ‘fairy tale’

That doesn’t stop the two siblings from trying to restore the faith in the lost King, especially after hear two kids younger than they speak vividly and furiously about myths and legends and gods

#pokemon #pokémon #pokemon sword and shield #pokemon swoshi #pokemon swsh #pokemon headcanons #pokemon headcanon #pokemon swosh

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luckyshotwrites · 2 years ago

Text

Ch. 34 // I’m Going to Bed // Day 22

Contents (Warnings): soft teasing, unwilling vore attempt, character shenanigans, a little tiny sprinkle of angst, more character information, and further monster/magic explanations. (Finally done with Life Festival Day 1, wooo!!).

Wordcount: 4136

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(Oct. 7th Friday)

Zane carried the super large pizza as I bumbled around, knowing good and well the slightest breeze would send me onto the ground.

He set down the pizza on the table. The other, people eaters, were chilling at their own table waiting for us to finish our food and for the boss and Sandra to close up shop, later than the time they agreed upon.

I noticed one of the new girls I was introduced to wasn't around. Beatrice, right? I questioned in my head.

I quickly grabbed a slice as I saw Zane nearly inhale his which was about the size of my forearm. Tila and June were eating it.

Maybe now that I offered them pizza, they’ll tell me what they are? I asked. I now knew Zilla and Zane were mixed with a mimic and naga. Please don't make me think about how that happened. I begged my thoughts. I knew Drake was a vampire beast, Alexander was half and half, Lev was a dragon…Are there different types of dragons? Wait-dang it. He won’t tell me if I ask him! He’d probably give me a counter offer.

I glanced up and across the table. The one known as Elliot slept again. He looked a little less human now with giant clawed hands over his head, and soft little perks for sharp ears.

Should I bother him? What if he does something? No. This is probably the only time I can say something to any of them. I’m safe. Plus, I don’t work on any of their shifts.

“Hey, Elliot-” I called quietly.

I noticed a twitch at his ears, he lifted his head up and he silently glared with his thistle brown eyes.

“Pizza.” I said, pointing down to it with my free hand.

He pushed himself up, “thanks.”

And I studied his jaw, it looked like the flesh at his cheeks was missing or replaced with a hollow blackness and I could see his lips as his lips were nonexistent.

He yawned, revealing another row on the inside past the ones that were visible on the outside. I inched back as he crunched through the pizza.

What is he?! He is by far the scariest looking one.

I felt Zane move toward me again. I pulled my pizza close, “you’re not-” I didn’t let him even get the chance and took my first bite. And immediately looked down at the triple meat. I glared at the other table even though no one was paying attention.

How can they tell me, people taste better than this!?! I didn’t know if it was due to my hunger, or if the pizza was that good.

I assumed our pizza was phenomenal as I saw repeat customers at least once a week if not more. Understandably so as the crust was crisp and evenly garlic buttered, each bite contained a good chunk of meat and the cheese had that gooey pull that most cheap ones didn’t.

Maybe I should consider it a blessing that I hadn't tried it until now, because I would have this every day if I could. I said in my head. They should all just eat this instead.

We finished it off and got ready to head out. Edgar texted the message in the group chat with everyone that were going to meet at Skyler’s Concert. I wondered if Beatrice and Tristan would show up too…

Alexander

He grumbled in his head. I hate being hungry, damn it. I ate that other human for a good three hours. And even after the fight I didn’t waste that much energy…I had Lynette this morning too. He scanned over as he kept her from walking out in the open.

Alexander forced a gulp. What the hell is going on? He blamed the current atmosphere. There were a bunch of awful smelling monsters around him, so Lynette’s already sweet aroma was vastly more noticeable.

I need to eat. He thought to himself.

Edgar’s voice called his attention. He didn’t notice Edgar slowed down to walk next to her. Him and Drake have such a lack of presence.

“How are you enjoying your time, Lynette?”

She chuckled, “oh, it’s very-uh-different.”

He gave a pleasant smile, “different in a good way I hope! And hopefully Alexander took you to a few fun events, as a good supervisor should.”

His red hue looked at Alexander playfully. Lev brings humans back all the time, but no, go ahead, punish me, ya old bastard. Alexander squinted at the man in response, though he couldn’t hide his smile.

“I went to an event and a lot of shops.” She gestured to the backpack, then almost fell back but caught herself and continued, “and by the way that pizza was amazing! Now I think I understand why we have so many customers.”

Edgar gasped, “You’ve never had our pizza after all this time? Dear girl, it’s free for employees! You just need to ask!”

“I-I never got the chance.”

“Why, you have all lunch-” he stopped and heartily chuckled, “ah, right. I always forget. Because unlike the other humans I’ve hired, you continue to remain an excellent, punctual employee.” He tapped at his chest and bowed to her, “and I for one am very glad I hired you.”

Lynette grew embarrassed. “Oh-thanks.”

Edgar looked back at Alexander with his charming, fatherly smile. “You picked a fine employee.”

“Not on purpose, Edgar.” Alexander mumbled, sheepishly. Edgar came around, patted his back, and gave Alexander a warning with his eyes, “do not eat her today or tomorrow. Or I will punish you.”

Edgar could tell, much like Drake, which annoyed him. He felt relieved when Edgar walked to talk to the others.

And speaking of Drake, he noticed him eyeing Lynette from behind again.

He’s just as bad as me, but his dad doesn’t tell him anything. Alexander grumbled as he rolled the thought around in his head. Drake’s usually a lot calmer. Maybe he’s feeling the same insane pull? There’s something just wrong with her right?

His eyes went ahead to Lev next. However, Lev didn’t notice as he was chatting with Zane.

“Xander, you’re gonna make me push into one of these buildings.” Lynette said.

He stiffened up, saw he had gravitated closer to her which made her move away. Why does she have to be so small? He asked himself as she had to fully tilt her head up to look at his face.

The constant background chatter and noises captured his attention. “My bad.” He simply replied.

He sealed his lips after and created some distance. Just forget she exists for now. He begged his body as he still couldn't get the thought of how perfectly sized she was out of his head.

…

Lynette

He either scowls or yells at me. I sighed, deciding it was best to ignore it and continued to look over the buildings and circus like tents, each seeming to hold something big inside. Like these monsters. I tried to lighten myself up.

At this point we roaming the events zone once more. There were a few small food areas, but overall it sang with liveliness. Many more masses of species, tall, small, old, and young. And our party finally slowed down at one of the boards. I tried to speed read the English text at the bottom.

Big Event Stations:

Ronai Concert (Left court stage, Show time: Friday, October 6th 7:45 p.m. til 8:45 p.m.)

End Tilt Concert (Left court stage, Show time: Friday, October 6th 9:00 p.m. til 10:00 p.m.)

Vertical Join (Center Pathian, Show time: All Day Friday, October 6th and Saturday, October 7th)

Magic Bests (Left Tower, Show time: Friday, October 6th 5:15 p.m. til 8:00 p.m.)

Mayhem Maze (Bottom Right Castle, Show time: All Day Friday, October 6th and Saturday, October 7th)

How to Hide (Left Tower, Show time: Friday, October 6th 9:00 p.m. til 11:00 p.m.)

Sweets Party (Center Pink House, Show time: All Day Saturday, October 7th)

Old History (Right Speckled Tent, Show time: Saturday, October 7th 4:00 p.m.)

I couldn’t read anything else, not even the descriptions with each of them as Alexander tugged on the bag.

“Hey!” I exclaimed.

“Everyone’s leaving, keep up, shrimp.”

I pouted, regained my bearings and grumbled following behind him. He wasn't lying, everyone did leave the board. But, I at least wanted to look at more events.

He took me to a stage, Ronai was coming up. I guessed that was the one we were waiting for. I was about to check the time but a few of the crew floated to the woman who sat at the end of the stage, her legs hanging off. And what I assumed were bandmates came up behind her chatting with them as well. I wanted to move closer, but saw someone approaching me.

“Oh, hey, it’s the human from the night crew.” Beatrice said.

I was wondering where she was. She was still in her human form. And then my eyes went to the small little turtle cake she had in her hands.

“That’s adorable!” I appreciated the detail, it almost looked real except for the cartoony face.

“And good too.” She said and took a bite out of it. It was filled with whip cream.

“Where did you get it?” I looked behind her as if it was close. Almost tipping over.

“Sweets House, they’re having a big sweets event tomorrow.” She said in between bites. “She makes a lot of cool looking treats, plus she fills each one with a lot of energy.”

They have food that’s energy filled YET still- I lifted up my finger behind her, “are they still open?”

“Nope, she closed up early to prepare for the event tomorrow.” Beatrice happily ate the last bite. “I’ll be happy to accompany you to get more tomorrow though~” She crouched down to be a little closer to my height, about as tall as Zilla.

��Sure-” I didn’t know what to say to her. “If you’d be willing to show me.”

“Then it’s a date, honey.”

Date? Honey? A friend date, right? I asked in my head, unable to say it outloud as Beatrice’s attention went to the person behind me.

“Skyler, sweetie.~” Beatrice chirped.

I turned around, face met with her lower abdomen.

She waved to Beatrice with a happy, “yo yo, queen.” She leaned down, looking over my face, closely and I couldn’t back up because of the weight of the bag. “You’re the pizzeria’s new coworker right? Names Skyler,” She said with a wide smile that curled up and opened a little at her cheek, splitting the flesh and showing teeth.

I stared at it and she put her hand up, backing up, “sorry, my body gets excited very easily.” The corner that split open revealing fell back to normal.

“Y-you’re alright-” I wanted to ask what exactly happened but refrained, “and I’m Lynette.” I offered a hand out of reflex. I couldn't take it back because she went to initiate the handshake back. Even with our clear height difference.

Her hand split open and I jumped back as a tongue came out from in it and licked over my palm.

"Quit it," she muttered holding her hand back, before giving me a quick once over. “Ah, sorry-”

Is her whole body a bunch of mouths in a trench coat? I asked myself.

"There you are, hey, Lynette, and welcome back, Beatrice!” Edgar joined us then gestured up to Skyler while looking at me, “she’s one of the affiliations that do entertainment in our pizzeria." He chuckled, "we had to cancel a month or so before you came along given the whole monster disaster, but her band and a few other groups will be coming back to give our spot entertainment again, next month.”

“O-oh. Cool.” I said. So our pizzeria’s going to be even livelier soon…oh boy.

“I’ll make sure we give you a nice introduction to our band tonight, Lynette to make up for early!” She said, looking away and then giving me a small wave.

Beatrice started to walk with her and Edgar. I sighed as the crowd slowly started to pack in. I tried to find Alexander. Stumbling back, I heard a laugh.

“You’re almost acting like you’ve never had legs before!” June said with a cheerful smile.

He still had the same color hair as me.

“It’s this giant backpack, my body hurts carrying it.”

June questioned, “oh, did you need some help?”

I wanted to say yes, but even though I couldn’t see Viola, I perfectly imagined her disappointment. “No, it’s a punishment.” One I don’t think I really deserve? Do I? I did call him a dumb…I then shook my head, no, he said I was stupid first!

“Were you bad?” June asked.

“A-” The start up of the music scared me. I flicked back away from him seeing the crowd vastly growing.

“HEY EVERYONE!~” Skyler’s voice boomed over the mic.

June started to jog up, tugging my bag to pull me too.

“We gotta get a spot with the others!"

…

I met with Alexander and stuck with him for a total of thirty minutes before I lost track of him and the others. The heavy bulk made it hard to move around in the crowd and I couldn’t check my phone. If I took my hands off the straps the backpack would slip off or ruin my balance. I got pushed back and felt someone catch me.

“Careful, Lynette, you might bump into the wrong being!” He said in a shout. I saw it was Zane on his phone.

“S-sorry!”

He smiled, “just go wait outside of the crowd, you risk getting smushed here!.” He yelled and pointed out.

I agreed, and I wormed my way out between the other monsters, while they danced and sang along with the music.

Upon breaking away from the crowd, everything was clearer. A few stayed back and watched from afar, talking to one another.

"Howdy girly," a lanky all black being being squatted down and gestured with his free hand to the mini fridge with a glass panel he had over his shoulder. "Did you want to get a drink? We have plenty of custom drinks in here to give you some pep in your step or extra strength."

I half expected some kind of threat, and I looked over the choices, "do you have water?"

He opened the fridge and handed me a glass bottle with some clear liquid, its label was "Clearest."

I took out my card and got ready to hold it up.

"No, water's free little missy." He held up his hand, and sprang back up. He tipped his hat back, "if you would like anything else though, I'll be walking around."

I thanked him, holding the water tightly, my other hand on the straps. I saw him go off toward the crowd with his colorful fridge of drinks. I made my way to an empty, smaller table. A lot of them were way too big to be comfortable in.

I stared up, taking a breath, and staring up at the beautiful starry night. Even with the lights below, I could see plenty of the stars. Though, I realized I was tipping too far back and clutched the table quickly. I nearly lost my drink.

I had to lay on the table to keep the bag from dragging me off the bench.

I should text the group chat and tell him where I am.

I brought out my phone, looking over the few messages of nonsense before. I stopped when someone tapped on my typing arm.

"Hey, where's your mark, little human?"

I pulled my arm back. I flipped to the male that was at least eight feet tall. His mouth seemed to match Elliot, except he had a fluffy swishing tail and wolf-like ears on his head.

I smiled, "uh-I don’t have a mark-”

“Why not?” They sat down right next to me. Nearly touching me.

I wanted to scoot over but I was afraid it'd seem rude. “I’m not a giver." I said seeing he had a mark on his own hand like Alexander had earlier. Except it wasn't glowing. “I work for a pizza place that has a stall here-Happy Pizzeria."

Their claws tapped the table, as if they were thinking. I gave a friendly smile, but felt the sweat starting form at my forehead.

“Ah,” He got up from the bench and my phone started to ring. “I guess I’ll find someone else.”

My shoulders slumped. I fumbled to answer it once he walked away and accidentally rejected it. Alexander's going to kill me. I thought as I saw the being with the brown fuzzy trench coat was still behind me. Eyeing me, and once our eyes locked in the mirror, he lurched over to grab me.

He got the backpack and yanked me up. He tried to wrap his arm around my head, but I dropped from the backpack straps. I had to do it so many times in high school when Wicks tried to stop me from walking so fast.

I slipped under the table, clenching my phone, and scrambled to get out from underneath it. They swung it up, and dropped it immediately when I got up. I heard its heavy slam behind me along with the shatter of the glass bottle.

“Stop making this difficult!” The male called.

I couldn't yell out, the music was too loud and I didn't assume anyone would help me.

I brought my phone out, not able to stop myself as Drake ran out in front of me. He didn't expect me to slam into him, he assumed I'd stop in a panic. I pulled back as his arms were out.

"Alexander's looking for you..." He heard my help, saw my gesture and gasp. I couldn't speak.

The fuzzier being with black fur and horns leaned over us.

Drake moved me behind him when the wolf-like man reached for me. “She’s not a giver.” His tone left calm yet strong.

It made me tense up.

His sour face turned to me, ignoring them, he moved his head in the direction he wanted us to go. "Let's get back to him."

"I'm not scared of you, brat." The being growled. He grabbed Drake who held my arm. Drake let go of me, I wobbled to keep my balance.

Not that it mattered. A few ribbons of fear wrapped around my body, draping over my ears drowning out the music, yet they were thin enough to let the colder breeze in. My body twisted, struggling to run at first, but soon gaining enough traction as I got further away from the situation.

My breath squeaked out, finally. I swayed back and forth and my mind slowly regained its senses hearing the phone I clutched in my hand ringing again.

I answered without reading the name.

“WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?!” Alexander’s growl rumbled from beyond the speaker.

My lip quivered. I tried to look back. “I-uh-Drake might have got into a fight-”

There was a confused silence, “what?” He snapped out of it. “JUST TELL ME WHERE YOU ARE.”

“I don’t know, uh-” I looked at the stage, “left of the stage.”

I heard a gruff groan, followed by a “STAY THERE.” He hung up.

I didn't want to move, but the speaker sounded so loud. I soon saw Viola, Tila, and Beatrice coming over to me.

“What are you doing here, Lynette? Alexander was-” Viola then got closer and looked at my hands then back to my eyes. “Are you alright?”

My hands trembled. “Y-yeah. They just-oh, right, Drake might not be okay-” What am I doing to these monsters to make them attack me?

“What happened?”

I tried to form a coherent sentence. “Someone grabbed him and for some reason I couldn’t stop myself from running away.” I held my chest. I’m a coward, but he'll be okay, right? What if something happened? My heart blamed me again.

“I guess not everyone can get along.” Beatrice sighed, “would be better if we could.”

“And be under your rule, no thanks! I love my freedom.” Tila moved her arms around.

I went back in the same direction I came from. As if I could do something, Viola grabbed my wrist. “Did you see anyone hit, Drake?”

I denied it, then realized the bag was gone too. “And you’re bag, I’m sorry-” My overwhelmed and muddled mind felt more for the bag and Drake than my own safety. It had a funny way to cope...

…

Viola worked on calming down Alexander behind me.

“Sorry,” Drake apologized.

At this point the whole crew was together, besides Sandra, Edgar, and Tristan. And as far as I know, no one really mentioned the scenario to them.

“You shouldn’t apologize.” I said walking beside him in the hotel lobby.

Drake shook his head, “I used my animosity and forgot how it’d affect you.”

“Your animosity?”

“It’s something certain beings, like me, can do. It creates a pressure around weaker creatures to either make them run or unable to move.” Drake sighed, “I wanted him to back off, not you, it spreads over an area and I don't have control over who I affect in that area.”

I listened to his sheepish tone, and saw he avoided eye contact with me. I nodded, “th-thank you though, I’d rather that than…what might have happened…”

Drake agreed with a half smile, “I suppose.”

Alexander "broke" containment.

“You idiot!” Alexander's voice rose out from behind me. “It’s like you want other monsters to eat you! Why did you go off by yourself!” He pushed between the two of us. Viola couldn’t hold him back.

“I got pushed away from you and I could barely stand up with the backpack!" I exclaimed, "I was tired, plus I could have gotten crushed by the giants!”

“Then you find and TELL me-!” Alexander snarled. We neared the elevator. “You know how annoying it’d be to get you out of someone's stomach AGAIN?”

I squeaked and hated the thought. “It's worse for me.”

“And you still-” He put his hands out to me then pulled them back and held his head up. “I’ll eat you if I pick you up and shake you.”

“Please don’t.”

He turned his head the opposite direction, “and there you go again, acting all meek and preyish! Stop teasing me!”

“I’M NOT!”

Lev laughed aloud as he held the elevator door for us, “I know, her little squeaks make me hungry too.” He stopped me from going into it. “Are you sure you don’t want to bunk with me tonight?”

“NEVER.” I pulled away, refusing to ride it up with them. “Can’t you guys just stop threatening to eat me!”

“Nope~” Lev said.

“You’re literally what I eat-”

Zilla pushed me ahead. She wanted to get in and I was in her way, “I gave you the offer to switch with me, Lynette.”

“Sis!” Zane said, he looked over at me, “she may be the size of a cute teddy bear, but still I’d rather have you." He tapped his chin, "or maybe the three of us?”

“I don’t want to wake up next to a giant of any species.” I went to the corner of the mirrored elevator.

“Aw, Lynette, then you’d be all alone,” Claudia turned and smirked at Tila, “oh wait, Tila’s smaller than you.”

Tila puffed up, her pigtails raised too, “you Fae always act so superior.”

Claudia chuckled, “It's because we are.~”

“I’d offer but I think our room is full enough.” Beatrice remarked.

They ignored my giant comment.

“Oh, oh! She can stay with us!” June said, clinging onto my arm. His skin touching mine made me shiver. He felt cold and slightly squishy even though he looked normal.

“I don’t need a human in my room.” Elliot said.

You know, touché.

I glanced at Drake who hadn't said anything. Then smiled, “Or, better yet,” I gestured at Alexander, “you can go bunk with Lev and Drake.”

“I don’t have a bed in there.”

“We have a couch,” Lev said before looking at me, “but wouldn’t you get lonely? Any monster could easily sneak in there and gobble you up…” He teased, “oh," excitement fluttered in his irises, "you know, maybe you should sleep in our room, Alexander.”

I rushed out of the elevator, “nevermind, forgot it! I-I don’t-ugh,” I didn’t want to argue anymore. I fumbled to get the keycard from the wallet at the back of my phone. “I'M GOING TO BED. GOODNIGHT."

…

Thank you for reading! :D Have a gouda day! (Nonnegotiable, if you're lactose intolerant, you're about to be in a lot of pain, sorry, not sorry. Lol).

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#vore story #vore writing #soft vore writing #soft vore #widfali #v.0re #v.ore #v/0re #v/ore #vore ocs

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leibxedelman · 2 years ago

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The Mourner’s Kaddish [Self Para]

@noahwrightx @dhanilyman

Glorified and sanctified be God’s great name throughout the world which He has created according to His will.

Leib knew he was dead when Sunny’s arms wrapped around his neck, he could feel her sobbing, kissing his neck, and then she was being pulled away from him by the guards who had forced her to hurt him.

More guards surrounded his slack body, he felt someone shove their fingers to his neck, feel for a pulse, but they wouldn’t get one, and when they realized that, the guard who had been checking moved their hand from his throat, pressed their head to his chest, and then swore. There was a moment of murmurs from the guards, one of them got on the phone, he was sure they were calling the headmaster.

He was unshackled, laid on the ground, checked over. He could see it all happening from his open, unblinking eyes, wondering when, when was he going to see the light, when was he going to go on. He should be reunited with his grandparents now, his parents, generations of Edelmans who had come to the new world from the old country, who had done everything they could to see their generations of family had a good life in America before him.

But instead he saw what was happening to his body, he could hear the guards talking frantically, and then the one who had the phone pressed to his ear lowered it. A body bag was produced and Leib was moved from the grass, probably stained with his blood and sweat, and into the bag, which was zipped up as he looked out at the sky.

He was being moved somewhere, the morgue probably- if the school even had one- but he didn’t know where, he couldn’t move, he was stuck inside his body, and he could hear the chatter, the orders from the guards to people he couldn’t see. Sigils, and wards they talked about, but it meant nothing to Leib.

He wondered about Sunny, how was she doing? Who would take care of Dhani and Monster Truck? Who would dress up in an embarrassingly ridiculous outfit and cheer for Evie? Who would teach Levi about random facts and hang out with Skyler in the library?

They all had people, they all had families.

Sunny had friends, he was sure any one of the masters on the island would be happy to take care of her, she was so sweet and kind, it would be impossible not to console her and take care of her.

Dhani had friends, he had loads of friends, and his girlfriend was claimed, so maybe her master would take care of him. Leib hoped that Dhani would continue to take care of Monster Truck- hell, he was sure he would- he’d taken care of him before Leib showed up, and he’d take care of him after they buried Leib.

Evie had her sister, even if the girl was reluctant to reach out, he was sure she’d be there for Evie if she really needed her.

All of his friends, all of the people, they would be okay, and so would he… Eventually.

May He establish His kingdom in your lifetime and during your days, and within the life of the entire House of Israel, speedily and soon; and say, Amen.

Leib was 35, reading the prayer at the temple where two coffins sat in front of him. He was dressed in his best suit, his eyes moved from the words before him, to the couple in the row in front of him and to his right. His grandparents had been better parents to him over the last twenty five years than the people in the coffins.

He had been driving to work on the expressway when they died, stuck in the traffic that had been caused by their car accident, reading the New York Times in the back of a cab as his parents' bodies were pulled from the wreck.

He remembered glancing at the accident, seeing the first responders covering bodies with the sheets and saying a silent prayer for the families of the deceased while the traffic finally started to let up as people got their rubbernecking fix, and then he looked back at his paper, not knowing that he had just said a prayer for himself. For his parents' families.

It had been twenty years since he’d seen them, spoken to them, and now he had no way of speaking to them, of telling them what he was doing, how his life was going, all he had left of them now was the knowledge that he was performing the prayer.

Leib stood in front of a casket, the same Temple, the same Prayer, a different group of mourners, a different casket, and ten years older. He looked from the casket, to the same spot where his grandparents had sat ten years and some odd months before, only his grandmother remained.

Her strength in this moment gave him strength.

She had been more of a mother to him than the woman who had died a decade ago, she had raised him, stayed with him while he was sick, fed him when he could hardly move from fever, helped him with his homework. She had gushed about him to her friends at Temple and taught him what it was to have a mother, and even now at 45, she was still doing that for him.

Five years later. Same Temple, different casket. Less mourners, but more funerals under his belt, no one sitting in the front row to give him strength as he read the prayer.

Leib had no idea how much time had passed, he knew the car had stopped, he knew he had been brought somewhere else, but the only indication of time passing was the small hint of light he could see in the miniscule spaces between the zipper to the body bag. He was suffocating inside his own body, he’d never been this still for any amount of time, and he was completely at the mercy of those who handled his body.

Leib needed to be prepared, in his office at the library he’d left files for the event of his death- though he was not expecting this to happen for at least another few years, twenty to thirty was the hope, and now Dhani would have to do this for him. Oh god, poor Dhani. He’d already lost so many people, and now Leib. After he’d only just admitted he was scared of Leib leaving, and Leib confirming that the fear was valid- he never meant like this. He meant if Leib got bored and got itchy feet, he’d take off and go somewhere else, though he was trying hard not to do that.

He’d spent so long moving around, seeing different parts of the world, Leib knew that he was never going to see all of the world, but that didn’t mean he had to accept the limitation, and he didn’t for the most part- but now? Now he would see nothing.

May His great name be blessed forever and to all eternity.

Or- well- he was supposed to see nothing.

Stuck inside the body bag still, he could only see the inside of the bag, and he knew, he just knew that this wasn’t right. He should be gone, he should not be in his body. Most would at that point assume that this was it, this was the end, and that this was what really happened after you died, but he just knew that this wasn’t right.

He laid there, staring at the zip in the bag, unable to move his eyes, unable to do anything while he stared at that fixed point- he couldn’t even blink.

It was suffocating being in his body, his chest still ached, pain radiating through him like he was still having his heart attack, his left side of his chest full of sharp pains that hurt so so much, watching while the light in between the teeth of the zipper faded to darkness.

He could hear people talking outside the room, and he wished, prayed for someone, anyone to come in there, to talk to him, to unzip the bag and get him some fresh air, but he knew that fresh air wouldn’t do him any good. Not now.

Leib was no stranger to suffocating, he’d almost suffocated when he was six, living on the commune- well, could you really consider drowning suffocating- either way, it was not his first time without air.

He could remember it clearly, they had all gone to the neighborhood public pool, it was a hot, humid day in New York, and all of the kids had been loaded up into one of the vans and brought to the pool, they paid whatever the fee was at the time, maybe thirty five cents a head? And then they were turned loose, sent to enjoy the pool for the day, each was given a quarter to buy lunch, and the parents were gone. Leib wouldn’t know what they were but as an adult he had some ideas.

The bigger kids were supposed to watch the younger kids, but the thing about a visit to a New York Public Pool with sixteen unsupervised children? It’s chaotic. Leib had always been little as a kid, little, but willing to be crazy and have fun and do whatever he wanted, because that’s how he was being raised, to do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted.

Bedtimes? Don’t be silly. Homework? He didn’t even go to school and at six years old could barely spell his own name. Swear? Say whatever you want kid!

Life had been anarchic.

He remembered the feeling of the water on his little body, there were so many people in the pool that day, it must have been a Saturday, and the people moving around, swimming, or just treading water in place, it made the water feel like the ocean, swaying back and forward while he tried to swim as best he could in the shallow end.

But it was what the bigger kids were doing that caught his interest, jumping off of the diving board into the water. He and his best friend in the house, Eitan, watched as the older boys ran in a line, jumping off the diving board one after another, while the lifeguard yelled at them to knock it off.

It was fun, the two boys smiled at each other and then looked back as their brothers were wild and crazy and just had a good time.

It was later when the kids were all having lunch sitting around the side of the pool that the teasing started, some of the bigger boys were ribbing the little boys, and while Leib knew he couldn’t swim as well as they could, he still proudly announced that he wasn’t afraid of the diving board, and he stood up, marched himself over to the board and looked back at the group. He couldn’t see well from where he stood, the world had started getting blurrier and blurrier earlier that year, but no one seemed to have an answer for why that was happening- but he could recognize the group he’d just left, all of their towels laid out together, everyone sitting in a circle, sharing what little food they’d all been able to afford, one or two large cokes split between all sixteen of them, just enough for everyone to get a sip or two, before they’d use the cups to refill at the water fountain.

He stood on the edge of the diving board and looked into the pool, it had certainly filled up since they had gotten there that morning, and it was chaotic, the whole property was. But Leib was not going to let them think him a coward, he was little, but he was strong- but so was the fear settling in his stomach. He took a deep breath and was about to turn around, when he saw a line of boys behind him waiting to use the diving board. “Go already!” one of them yelled at him, and in that moment, Leib had to make a choice, jump or jump off the board.

But the choice was made for him when the bigger boy’s hands met his shoulders and he had just enough time to gasp for air before he hit that refreshing water. The only problem was not as it turned out, swimming back to the surface, the problem was the impatience of the boys behind him who all began to jump into the water before the six year old had surfaced, the displacement of water, the bodies landing around him, it stunned him, sent his little body moving from side to side, but not up. One particularly husky child shot down into the water, landing on Leib and then pushing off of him, knocking him further into the water, knocking the wind out of him, and sending air into his lungs.

Leib tried to gasp, tried to get air, but all he got was water, water and confusion, and fear, fear gripped his body as he realized how bad this situation was. Even at six he had a concept of death, one of the older boys in the commune had been tasked with killing the rats in their building, and he took his job very seriously. It was often Leib would wake up to the sound of a snap while he and the other children slept in the children’s room, which was of course in the basement, it being the biggest room in the house and the one with the most space for children to play. It was also the room with the most rats.

And he Leib, he was a rat right now, a rat caught in a trap, and he was sinking, he was sinking fast.

Blessed and praised, glorified and exalted, extolled and honored, adored and lauded be the name of the Holy One, blessed be He, beyond all the blessings and hymns, praises and consolations that are ever spoken in the world; and say, Amen.

Leib didn’t know why he remembered that day at the pool as he stared at the inside of the body bag, he supposed because it was his first near death experience, but this, this was a full death experience. He was dead, he knew he was dead.

The day at the pool had ended when the lifeguard dove in for him, pulled him out and performed CPR on him until his body expelled the water from his lungs and then he was wrapped in a towel, and because they had all spent their money on food they had no money to call home.

A sympathetic lady offered one of the older kids a dime to make a phone call, and after not getting an answer at the house, the kids were all wrapped in their towels, put their sandals on, the ones who had brought them that is, and they began to walk the eight blocks home, where they had to wait on the steps to the house until one of the younger kids was able to be lowered into the basement through a side window, and then ran upstairs and unlocked the door for them. They didn’t see the adults for two days.

His body ached, rigor was setting in, and the stabbing in his chest was still there, he ached, he wanted to be free, but he had to assume God had some sort of plan for him as he laid in the body bag.

May there be abundant peace from heaven, and life, for us and for all Israel; and say, Amen.

Night crawled by, and finally daytime came, and when it did, new voices came, he recognized one of them, Dhani, Dhani had come to him, and he felt guilt for the pure relief that washed over him when the zipper of the body bag was opened. He knew he should be more concerned with his companion’s state of being after the mass punishment that had just happened, but really he was more excited to see the light and feel the change as the body bag was unzipped all the way. Dhani was wearing his yarmulke that Leib had given him, and for that he was thankful. He could feel the dampness of Dhani’s hands and he was thankful for that as well, he had washed his hands before touching Leib, and so had the other person? A tall man that Leib didn’t know by name but had definitely seen before around the island.

As they pulled Leib’s sore body from the bag and turned him to get him out of the bag, he was thankful that they seemed to be taking the proper precautions. Dhani must have found his papers, and for that he was thankful.

The other one, the one he didn’t know spoke to him, like he knew that Leib was still stuck inside his body, and Leib wished he knew what the comment, the “be strong, you’re well taken care of” meant, but he couldn’t ask, couldn’t even wonder what it meant before his eyes were closed, and he was left in darkness.

He could feel everything they did to him, washed him, turned him, made sure his body was clothed in the right way, and then Dhani was gone, and Leib was left with the other one, alone.

"Hey," was the first thing Noah said when they were alone, and then, "shit, I should have written something down, like a speech. 'Hey,' what the fuck, that sucks." There was the scrape of a chair being dragged, the sound of someone very large throwing themselves into it. "I know you can't see me. And I know we've never met, so this is gonna be--hard to believe. Hard to take in. I'm Noah. Real sorry to meet you under these circumstances. God, I'm bad at this, I'm sorry--the souls I reap aren't usually great people, and they're also not sticking around, so I don't have to like--there's not so much explaining when it's a serial murderer."

The truth was the rambling was a little bit calculated. During his three days, he'd have given anything for something to distract him, something to hold onto when the pain and the isolation within his own mind was too much. He could not fill all of Leib's three days--the misery was necessary, was a part of it--but he could draw it out, just a little, this distraction. "The bad news is you're dead, Leib. Reckon you've figured that out by now. I don't, uh--I don't know how much you know about reapers. That's what I am, by the way. A reaper. Not your reaper, mind, that's different. See, your reaper can't get here. Headmaster made sure of it. My god damn skin's on fire from the wards, and I had to give a man my scythe to get in here--which you don't understand yet, so I'll get to the point. Like I said, your reaper can't get here. And if they can't get to you by Wednesday, well--then you don't get reaped. And if you don't get reaped, you become one of us. I guess what I'm sayin' is you're dead, but it's not permanent. It's good news. You're not done. But, uh, I'm not gonna lie to you--it's gonna suck a little bit at first. There's no getting around it. You're gonna be stuck in there until Wednesday, and it's going to keep hurting, and it isn't going to get better until it does. And then after that it's going to be--weird as hell, and overwhelming, but--it's life. It's a life, and it's not a bad one. And I'm gonna see you through it. See, we're brothers now, and the thing you should know about me--I'm a fuckin' excellent brother. It's gonna be good. I promise."

A pause, the sound of Noah settling into the chair to stay. "I'll be here when it's over. Three days. You can do it."

Leib was thankful to this Noah. And he wondered if Noah knew what his name meant. In Hebrew Noah came from the name "Noach" which means "rest," or "repose." and rest he could knowing what was going on.

He who creates peace in His celestial heights, may He create peace for us and for all Israel; and say, Amen.

The three days were brutal. He hadn’t been lying about the pain, the entire time it felt like his heart was still seizing, giving up, even though he knew it had given up awhile ago. It was agonizing, knowing that he couldn’t be anywhere but in this moment. He remembered times of his life, he wondered more than once if this was God punishing him for indiscretions, for worshiping but not committing to Him fully, for going against some of their most known rules. So the man ate pork every now and then, he didn’t eat shellfish once in his life, despite hearing from countless people how amazing it was.

Despite Noah telling him to be strong, he had moments of weakness; He tried to bargain with God, begged to go, begged to see the light and for all of this to just be over. He just wanted to go. But it seemed God, and the Headmaster had other plans for him.

He was thankful to have Noah telling him how much time had passed, how much time he had left in this hell. As a Jew he’d never believed in Hell, but this was certainly Hell, being locked away with his own thoughts for three days, unable to move, to breathe, to do anything to distract him from the agony of time.

And then something changed.

And he knew without anyone telling him that the three days were coming to an end.

Amen.

#self para #three days in his head was not fun #enjoy!#tw: drowning #tw: death #tw: rats #tw: heart attack #tw: religion

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