By barkingdog
This was a third place Short Story, Horror Story Contest Winner on FanStory by committe vote on 10/6/2011. Currently under revision, this post is actually now broken into 5 chapters.(I previously had eight parts) I have begun editing the original text which was quite lengthy . Please keep this in mind when you read it. I plan to re-post the chapters when I figure out how to change chapter numbers. Right now it's a bit of a jumble.
The chapters subsequent to this post ( entered as Chapter 1 on FS) are written as a request by readers to continue the characters that were developed in this short story. I only began to write with a book in mind with FS post titled 'Gima: Another Generation'( entered as Chapter 2 on FS).
Total words: aprox. 5950
CHAPTER 1: Parts 1 and 2; words 1317
Part 1: Excerpts from Hunter's journal:
April 12, 2310
The cat prowls. The dog hunts. They die. The rat slinks, eats their bodies and thrives, growing beyond countable numbers in the bellies of the cities -- in the belly of the world.
April 15, 2310
I'm the rat catcher. The prowler-hunter going deep into the bowels of mankind's ruins, mankind's rubble, to grapple with rodent-kind-mutant, man-rat-weasel beasts, upright, furry bone-bags with bulbous brains pressed inside inadequately small skulls. They slather putrid drool that seeps through shedding, crooked teeth in snake hinged jaws. With nocturnal eyes, blinded by daylight's glare, they are swift pack hunters with voracious appetites who eat all things even their own when nothing else is available.
May 1, 2312
. . .You should see how they die. These creatures die beautifully. They pop like balloons floating over a hot fire; releasing gases and bursting into high blue, green and gold colored flames with flying sparks of pink and red as their blood sizzles upward through ashes in blue-gray smoke.
Happy New Year 2313
Lovely -- I live for lovely. I live for the madness of it. Who is mad? You ALL said I was, mad? No, you were ... for hiding behind words and feigning safety as their numbers grew, and your children were snatched down storm drains, manholes, septic tanks, wells -- all to the underground world -- into their hungry, growing Rat Nation.
March 10, 2321. IT'S MY BIRTHDAY!!
I'm twenty-three today and just returned, forever altered, from Man's final stand against the Vermel.
Been there! I’ve seen it. Human heads, mouths gaping, stuck on pikes. Carcasses preserved in brine. Oinkers they call them -- us. Bottles containing tongues of all shapes, sizes and colors; our eyeballs, like various colored marbles float in brine. Testicles, like prunes, are a delicacy. Lengths of intestines hang ready for sausage stuffing. They grind our bones into fertilizer for their fluorescently lit, hydroponic, underground gardens. They used all of us. Waste not ...
March 13, 2321
Their leaders preach their ways in a profane jargon of grunts and gestures nothing resembles the passages of THE BOOK as I recall it. They gather to recite and sign passages, new passages professing their superiority, added during and after the epidemic. The signing, I understand. Their guttural sounds are primitive and frightening with various ear piercing screeches and animal howls and would take much time to decipher.
March 21, 2321
I need to record history, as I remember it, before I do what I must in April.
Ah yes, I'll start with the epidemic -- how it all began and led the world into such hopelessness.
There was a time before this when skies were blue. Once clouds brought clear, cool water called rain. That tasted like what I distill now. What a wonder, it just fell free from the sky.
Then it began. Silver-rain began. No more clean, clear rain. Only the biting sizzle of silver-rain fell, destroying all it touched. Food sources were destroyed. We, human kind, died in the streets, and if we didn't die we harbored the last epidemic. In one week, it was too late. By the time Keen's government had organized a task force with what was left of FEMA, it was too late. All communication was gone. Only an isolated few and the military in their hazmat suits remained untouched.
March 24, 2321
The crazed and those maimed in the silver-rain fled with their families underground. They were being hunted and killed by the human military in an attempt to eliminate the epidemic. Sewer rats that had mutated from the silver-rain's run-off were the only food down below. As these 'rain' rats were eaten so a mutant human race evolved. Horrid deformed resemblances of humans, monstrosities ejected from the womb frightened the already deranged. Many were slain instantly. Others were hidden and nurtured. The small sucklings grew to their teen years. They ate their parents and procreating with their own kind, a new kind, an agile, strong, yet abhorrent, intelligent strain survived. It was forever immune to continued mutations from silver-rain but forever sensitive to the sun and only able to breathe Upper Earth’s atmosphere for short periods of time. They became the Vermel that now lives in the bellies of the cities of the world, interconnected by its mole tunnel network.
March 27, 2321
They hunted us for sport and food. Thus man, above their tunnels here on Upper Earth, has dwindled to a few isolated survivors who meticulously cover their scent. Pairs and groups are easily detected as scents of mating and emotion swiftly attract the Vermel who seem to have developed some sort of naris mutation. Isolates survive but with no pairings there are no offspring. No future. Man is nearing extinction.
April 1, 2321 April Fool's and I'm it!! ROTFLMAO!!
Today, I go below, one last time, searching for captives of my kind -- man. If I am the last and I die, I am the last. If I am not then WE may live. I have to go. I must know. I can't live up here alone, doing nothing. Just surviving ... for what? ... to watch my cock wither and my balls withdraw as I hang my weapons on the wall? NO! I may be the LAST mother fucking human on this God- forsaken, piece of shit planet ... I may not!! So, balls to the wall. Fuck 'em. Let 'em just try and eat me!!
******
Hunter jumps into a manhole; gear and all, disappears. With a deep splash into darkness, he heads towards the familiar single light at the far end of the dank tunnel. It guides him back to memories that he'd much rather forget.
He sloshes through miles of putrid water, stirring up its surface inhabitants.
"God Damn roaches and flies." Hunter adjusts his pack of supplies, checks the Colt in his belt, and bats through the swarm hoping to reach a dry spot where their ravenous bites will cease. He slips in a century of thick slime and falls hitting his head against the wall's sharp protruding rocks. He regains his footing and momentarily weaves in place, head spinning, while he touches the gash to his forehead. Blood drips blurring his vision. His head throbs but he must move on.
"Fuck!" He spits filth from his mouth. Man, this IS Hell! He takes the blue bandana from his neck and ties it over his injured forehead, hoping to stop the flow.
Great, blood! Just what I need. No ... just what they need to find me!
Hunter's stooped silhouette, knees bent, moves cautiously forward. His halogen flashlight continues searching the rough honed tunnel walls. It finds an antiquated poster that reads:
'The Pollution Solution: Kill the Mother Fuckin' Planet!!
Only the Strong Survive!!
VOTE KEEN!'
The smiling, well-dressed poster-man looks fatherly and protective ... but there's something empty about his eyes ... He stands with his arm around an adoring wife, his perfect children at his feet and beside a Humvee M1151. He’s sporting an RPG-32 Hashim and hand held 'rail' gun.
Last election poster, ever, must have been a hundred years ago, and he won!! On his inauguration day, the silver-rain began. It poisoned the world for seven days non-stop.
Hunter scooped up a large handful of tunnel slime and threw it smashing into Keen's smiling paper face which tore from the impact.
And you waved for the camera. You smiled and reassured the world that we'd all be just fine. Then YOU and YOUR family were whisked away to safety. ... Asshole.
From above, Hunter’s light is seen reflecting onto wet, flat rock. Suddenly, a torrent of water pours from the ceiling, disorienting him. A deafening, slurping suck shakes the ground; he flings his hands above his head. His light momentarily hits the lens of a sensor on the tunnel's ceiling. The tunnel is silent, save for the sound of Hunter's flashlight spinning on the smooth rock, flashing a belated warning on the jagged walls. Its halogen beam twirls with frantic speed, unheeded it slows. It halts to shines on the reassuring politician -- Keen's election poster and spotlights the word 'Survive.
*******
CHAPTER 2: (includes parts 3-5 words 1271)
Part 3:
Bellow City, Under Earth East, is busy, today. Creatures mill about in the market. Blue alert lights are flashing in its center and the shopping crowd is anxious to see what all the buzz is about. They growl, grunt and sign.
“Get out of my way!”
“Watch out, I was here first.”
“You, want a piece of this,’ a big hairy Vermel, signs and points to his crotch with a clawed finger.
The Vermel mob rushes toward the blue flashing lights. Several are knocked down, trampled and taken to Disposal with little regard.
“Look, I see it.”
“It’s ugly and deformed.”
“It has two small, slits for eyes.”
“How can it see at all?”
“Our one large eye is better.” They all nod in agreement.
Hunter has arrived via tunnel-trap which dropped him into a large plastic enclosure smack in the center of Eastern Under Earth's largest market. He's dazed, naked and whiter than white with insecticide powder which is a mandatory precaution for a tunnel-trap captive.
Hunter spits. I can't see. He struggles to his feet. Oh,god where am I. ... My clothes ... where are my clothes. He fall to his knees. He is merely a pale clump in the dim illumination of Under Earth. I hear animals. He shivers into a fetal position.
Behind Hunter's enclosure two Vermel business men make plans.
“It’s ugliness will attract many. I must have him!” Jacknel, the circus owner, paces and signs to Ticum, his best trainer.
“And so you shall.”
“Critons, bruicks, have you brought them?
“Right here, boss.” Ticum hefts two large pig-skin satchels and shows his double-rows while drooling a nefarious snicker.
“Let’s do it. We need to confiscate and conceal him immediately. This public display is ruining our box office.”
“A little is good advertising …”
“Yeah, but look at them pouring in … Let’s get this done.”
The auction is announced. The crowd settles.
“Mommy, can I have it. Pleeease?” His mother grunts a firm ‘no.’
“I bet Jacknel get it,” chortles another.
“Look, he’s here already.”
"Jacknel, Jacknel, Jacknel ...," the crowd cheers.
A loud air-horn sounds and speakers begin the bidding. Jacknel and Sadie parey for the prize but
within only a matter of minutes Hunter belongs to Jacknel’s Arena and Circus attractions.
He is thrown into a cage and trained by Ticum who is notorious for his lancing whip. He is always choreographing unique ways to show his captive’s blood in the Arena. The audiences' blood lust has addicted them to his performances' guarantees of gore.[I AM ADDING TO THIS SECTION.]
“They come from all corners of the Under World.” Jacknel puffs his blend of madine and sedderthal. The smoke weaves out the crack in the back stage curtain to enter the hazy arena, packed with a restless, crowd, tired of waiting.
“Honeykins, when are they gonna start?” A rotund female wibbles to her mate while chomping on a smoked pig-ear. He ignores her for another swig of Fitzel. "Hooonneeey?"
“Don’t worry, lady. It won't be long." He offers her a pig snout in brine. "Snout?"
"Thanks." She munches, juice runs down her three fingers to her elbow. She slurps.
"Ticum always brings us blood.”
Mouth and hands full, she nods.
“ Hey, ass-hole! You talking to her?” Her burly mate thwarts, as his back hump swells.
The caznu slinks to another seat. She continues her double-fisted gluttony and with a foot reaches to claim the hastely abandoned jar of pickled snouts.
Vermel have come from all over the Under World to see Jacknel’s newest, freak-show attraction – Man.
'Come one come all and see the creature from above. The last HUUUU MAN!!' This repetitive announcement given in Vermel's harsh tonal combinations plays through loud speakers on the street outside the arena entrance and inside from the stage.
They watch the naked, human attraction. Hunter makes rhythmic sounds that they don't understand. The Vermel language has become primarily a complex series of grunts, chirps, moans, groans and gestures. Oh, but the gestures are going mad now. Hunter's melody of pleading speech arouses them to gesture frenzy; failed tonal attempts at imitation produce only guttural groans, throat clicks and nasal snorts. Vocal cords are dormant folds, no longer necessary to Vermal. Through mutation, which was essential for survival, constantly irritated vocal cords withdrew and they developed particulate collectors in a single naris which allow them to filter the Under Earth's contaminates.
Many in the crowd are curious while others are threatening which is evident as their remarks lift from the crowd:
"Where did he come from?"
"Will we eat him soon?"
"Smell, how delicious."
"His sounds are pleasing."
"But he doesn't speak"
"Look! How oddly he's shaped."
"Very strange, indeed."
"Uncivilized, a beast."
"No fur."
"Odd red stuff on his head."
"Ugly, symmetrical features."
"Horrid. Two eyes."
"Simply, horrid."
A mother hides her asymmetrical child's eye and hurries him away. "But Ma, I wanna see," he grunts pointing and pulling toward the naked atrocity who whimpers as Ticum’s whip sings.
"Let me out!" Hunter bangs on the transparent barrier. Curious eyes stare -- he at them, them at him.
He needs to relieve himself. He's thirsty. Tears are forming. He screams. "Help me. You are part human. Help me." He falls to one knee and pees. The crowd laughs at the yellow stream and points at his small withdrawing penis. He defecates, they lick their lips drawing closer, as its scent flows out through small air holes in Hunter’s plastic prison.
They drink in his misery, as this is their circus.
He is their monkey.
The monkey cries.
Well cared for, by their standards, Hunter is fed greenish-brown, lumpy squish. He's groomed; his comparatively, hairless skin is polished and painted with tattoo-like symbols brought forward from long ago when Vermel were men. He's a treasure -- this wonder and delicacy trapped from the Upper World ... this man.
************
Part 4: Asmal
Far above, dank dim Under Earth, is another man. His name is Asmal. In the clear, bright light of day, he prepares to set out on his own trek, leaving safety behind.
Asmal knows the Vermel language, having captured two creatures that came above years earlier. They were escaping from certain torture because their mutations mirrored human-kind -- hairless and having two eyes. Quite unlike the hairy, cycloptic Vermel, they were Vertant.
Vertant are genetically, unacceptable freaks, hidden by their scoliotic parents from Enforcer squads that prowl silently at night bagging all 12-15 year old human look-a-likes. The sounds of howling children would echo through Subby Wayside and Upper Track where most of the middle class Vermel live who are the breeders. A five-hundred bruick reward is given for each betrayal; family members and friends collect without a second thought. Those taken are never seen again by their families and fearing ‘acid tanks’ or worse, these two chose the risk of going above.
The pair, male and female, died in the sun's atmosphere with in two years time. Asmal studied them, keeping incessant, detailed logs on their smallest likes, dislikes, emotional, physical and psychological idiosyncrasies. He learned their culture and understood and could mimic their ways. He had hopes of a child that might speak but their allergy to the sun weakened them; Their illness began with a slight cough which moved deep into the chest. Asmel tried all of the herbal cures that his father had taught him,but to no avail. Toward the end their sweat turned pink with blood as they lost bodily fluids from all cavities until they dehydrated to death. The once strong vibrant pair died looking like they had been dug from a grave – leathery skin and bones, hollow eyes fallen back in their sockets.
They gladly told Asmel their memories, helped him make maps, taught him their language and loved him like an older brother. Inga and Gee held hands coughing incessantly until they finally died a painful, gasping death.
Disguised as one of them, hoping to find others like his Inga and Gee Asmal decides to dynamite through what he had once sealed and enter the shaft from which they had wandered.
He had to bind his body in order to walk in their hunched, fashion. Deformities varied, so he pull some teeth, filed others to points, cut off an ear and various fingers and several toes. Now healed, he's ready to leave.
They had told him of the ‘man’ monkey.
Poor cuss. Gotta get him out or kill him. He can't live like that and remain human for long.
******
CHAPTER 3: includes Parts 5 and 6; words 1508
Part 5: The Vermel and the Man
Hunter stomps around, throws feces at the jeering crowd, and pees out the air spaces of his enclosure, occasionally hitting a malformed Vermel. He dances and hoots, rousing the crowd to drool celebratory cheers and twirl ecstatically. He has no idea that he's doing exactly what his owner, Jacknel and trainer,Ticum expect ... entertain the spenders to spend more.
Meanwhile, Jacknel, Ticum and the veterinarian, in serious consultation, gesture behind their grand attraction.
"We've been offered a karom of critons for him. We should consider," Ticum chortles his point.
"He won't live forever. He already has a rash and is spitting up blood. Urination is poor ... possible stone blockage," Dr. Vey grumbles looking at tests’ results. “Don’t know for sure.” He hands the chart to Jacknel, showing weight , hair and tooth loss, as well as diminished range of motion, stamina and appetite.
Jacknel listens. He paces and puffs ; glares and growls, "Don't want to. Profitability must still be high?" He looks at Ticum.
“It’s dropped the last two weeks.” Ticum hands Jacknel the accounting ledger and points to the slumping profit line. “He has no energy and doesn’t enjoy the whip as he used to or dance as quickly to the bullets. Patrons are dissatisfied.” Ticum hunches over his bottle of Fitzel, knowing he’s lost this battle but hoping to sway the decision to sell Hunter to the West who has put in a hearty bid. Let them have the last of him.
"Not yet," Jacknel snarls, throwing the chart and ledger against the wall. "Medicate the rash and stomach ulcer and probe out the stone. Force feed him with a tube, but get him up for at least two more weeks. Then we’ll talk again about selling him go."
"Yes, sir. As you say, sir." The vet reaches for his bag.
That night the probing begins. No stone is found. A milky fluid is forced into all orifices when Hunter is strapped down for the night. Dr. Ney orders that he be tube fed in the morning three hours before the performance and at night after the show. By morning when released to the outer chamber, he is peeing wonderfully for and on the paying spectators who come early and pay 100 bruicks for a close-up view. To touch is the highest costs, a full criton which few can afford.
"See, I told you we'd be back in business. He's fine." Jacknel’s guttural laughter is contagious as he slides two shiny critons forward -- one for Dr. Ney, the other for Ticum.
He slaps the snaggle-toothed doctor on the back and puffs his large bowl pipe as they watch Hunter dance to Ticum’s revolver. Someday, I’ll control all of Platform 31. He moves bruicks into piles of 1000 and enters them as critons on the ledger.
******
The tunnels were long but the map made by Asmal's captives is exact. He avoids the suck-hole traps, sensors, and cameras and goes directly to Bellow City. He joins the line in front of 'The Man Attraction' for the afternoon performance and pays the price, one full criton, to see the man up close. His stomach begins to churn at the sight of Hunter, emaciated, pale, crouched, helpless. Asmel puts his hand, minus a little finger, up to the enclosure; Asmal's eyes meet Hunter's, but there's no recognition of humanity, no connection, nada.
Asmal, hiding his eyes, steps away to buy a ticket for the inside show.
Inside smells worse than anything he has ever encountered. Skunky, rotten flesh mingled with diarrhea and urine odors hover heavily in an atmosphere whose viscosity is as thick as lube grease. Breathing is an effort. Needing to and not wanting to are his choices. The crowd presses forward tonight, many thought the show worth the price of 100 bruicks - a day's wages to many.
Pulling the curtain aside with a flourish, a yellow-green, gnarly skinned Vermel in an expensive, rat skin jacket removes his harlequin top-hat and placing it at his waist, he bows.
"Welcome, one. Welcome, all to the most extravagant show ever presented anywhere in Under Earth. I, Jacknel invite you to feast your eyes on and wonder at the ugliness of this creature, the foolish coordination of its movements, the awkward symmetry of its form and its unharmonious sounds. He will amaze ... entertain ... astonish ... and excite you.”
"So, bring him on then!" A heckler begins throwing gravel, taunting Jacknel.
“I give you Ticum the Magnificent and his charge, the last remaining Abooovvve Laaannndeeer, Maaaaaaannnnn!
It appears that the crowd is loosing control. Jacknel signals ‘lazers up.’
"Shut up and let's see him."
" Man! Man! Man!" The crowd begins to clap, jump wildly and chant.
He signals ‘lazers up’ a second time. Wake up … I need those lazers …
Audience members begin to attack each other and are soon tearing one of their own apart. It was a fat lady whose husband had had enough of her eating and not bearing any children. He stood by watching as they dismembered her. A multitude of three- finger hands, some with rings, others with red-painted claws reached for her heart and liver as the rest of her spilled out.
Too late for the fat lady but salvation for others who were being eyed as snacks came the ear splitting siren, announcing the lasers. Everyone froze, body parts were dropped and looks of innocence come over blooded faces. One hundred arena lasers light up, and begin targeting out-of-control patrons. The lasers’ red dots guarantee punishment. Group violence is prohibited and must be controlled for Under Earth’s survival.
Speakers blare 'Frere Jacques', the song used to calm and warn the ravenous rabble of enforcement by death if they do not cease. This is taught to the very young from birth, so reaction to it is instinctive for most.
.
The song continues:
Are you sleeping, are you sleeping?
Brother John, Brother John?
Morning bells are ringing, . . .
The majority quiet immediately. Control officers push what's left of the body and its parts to the nearest side aisle where it's speared and dumped into an acid receptacle with practiced efficiency by Disposal Officers who are summoned automatically at the onset of a possible laser event. They do relish their task. Only two others who were trying to exit with her ovaries are subsequently shot, skewered and sizzle to nothing as the performance continues.
As the obedient crowd takes their seats, several lick the blood from their hands and faces others order from concessionaires who pass among them selling freshly -slaughtered, pig snacks.
"Tongues, fingers, toes, testicles, eyeballs, nose," they thwort and chortle loudly. Hands raise, waving bruicks and momentarily hunger is squelched.
Jacknel repeats his introduction: “ Presenting …Ticum the Magnificent and the last Abooovvve Laaannndeeer, Maaaaaaannnnn!”
On stage 'Man' glares and snarls, on Ticum’s command. The Vermel cheer.
He is pulled and resists. They laugh.
The cattle prod sizzles his bare skin. They drool.
He trips. They stand and begin grunting with motions of up. He stands and they clap, looking approvingly at each other, holding their children higher to see.
"Dance, Dance, Dance." They demand, swaying.
Ticum shoots bullets at Hunter’s bare feet. Several toes are already missing. Now another is gone. He dances, slipping, sliding painfully on the slick blood-red stage.
The screen lights up with words that only 'Man' can read. The prod zaps. He sings.
it's a world of laughter, a world or tears
it's a world of hopes, it's a world of fear
there's so much that we share
that it's time we're aware
it's a small world after all
The crowd signs and howls the chorus, a discordant cacophony.
CHORUS:
it's a small world after all
it's a small world after all
it's a small world after all
it's a small, small world
They are in awe that he sings the same thing each night. Not realizing that he's reading, they think his parroting skills are worth seeing again and again. They marvel at his tears, for they don't shed them. Vermel especially enjoy the scent of tears mixed with blood. Tonight both are in the arena’s thick air. Reaching from their single naris, searching, and swelling to retrieve more, their highly developed particulate collectors sway as they fully experience what is happening.
Asmal feels wetness on his cheek. He hits his face as if hitting a bug. He can't screw up now. He's come so far. A nearby child-sized Vermel copies Asmels behavior. Soon the whole auditorium is filled with Vermel slapping themselves.
On the stage, Hunter stops singing. He remembers a disc projection from long ago of three men ... He laughs.
Laughing was a really bad idea. It didn't belong in the song. Collector tubes withdraw and the crowd hoots like angry crows. The fun’s over. He'd been beaten off the stage before but tonight the crowd could turn and tear Hunter apart. They could even turn on Ticum. Ticum hurries Hunter off the stage.
CHAPTER 4: (includes parts 6- 7) words: 1136
Part 6: Asmal and Hunter: Now there are two.
Asmal exits the Arena building into the gas-lit tunneled city. He turns right into an alley which leads to the side and he hopes behind the Arena. He feels that he’s running out of time to save Hunter. He hadn’t seen another person for so long. He couldn’t let this go.
Off the stage, chained to his post behind the Arena Hunter has a moment of clarity. He remembers Asmal's TWO eyes and that is all it takes for him to throw a kick to the trainer's throat. One stomp and he crushes Ticum's head. He only needs to open the cuffs or break the wrist manacle chain. He feels around for Ticum’s belt where he often clips the keys.
"Fuck me! No key!"Hunter curses his chains and kicks the post. This is bull-shit." Hunter turns toward the alley at the sound of the compound’s rusted, metal gate.
."Hey, man." Asmel is an audible shadow which Hunter initially ignores. The alley entrance’s gas light reveals a tall, straight form and it speaks again. “You, OK, man?
What the... Hunter rubs his eyes as the form moves closer. He panics and pulls at his chains.
"Need any help?" Asmal smiles, pulling a hammer from his pack. “That being a moot point …Pull the chain tight … tight against the post …” He pounds the heavy welded chain. “I’m Asmel … Azzy.”
“Hunter.”
This mother’s not doin’ it. “Let’s go for a manacle. If you pray, now’s a good time.”I hope I don’t miss.This guy’s got enough problems.
Hunter nods.
The right cuff breaks open and then the left. The chain that he’s worn for two years drops to the ground.
"OK. We're outta here." Tossing Hunter coveralls and a knife, he motions. "Follow me."
They creap down the alley to surpise and kill the two Arena guards. Necks crack, guts are pulled out to strangle. They tie up and gag two drunk bystanders who gleefully witnessed the slaughter.
Out in the street, Hunter appears to be the captive of Asmal.
Asmal, keeping his eyes hidden, signs and grunts. "Man bad. Feast soon."
Saliva pools in the streets, as the word passes -- Man feast, soon!
******
Meanwhile ...
"Ticum's dead. My investment has been stolen." Jacknel scurries about his office, spitting globs of drool, his throaty clicks and guttural grunts order, "Call the Enforcers."
An assistant hastily complies.
******
Evading enforcers, Asmal and Hunter have an unprecedented challenge ahead of them. Asmal stops to get his bearings and consult his map, looking for a quick exit ... up
.
Hunter makes a sound.
"What? Shhh ... you'll get us caught."
"Others."
Asmal stops ... turns and not wanting to ask but needing to know repeats what he thought he had heard. "Others?"
"Yea, Gima."
"Gima?"
"Girl, child."
"Human?'
"Mutant from mutant. Looks human."
"Born of two Vermel? Genetics made a human?"
"Looks human. She's just a little girl. Maybe five."
They continue to move down the tunnel when they hear sloshing.
"Enforcers."
"How'd ya know?"
"I understand them."
"Me a little, too."
"Yea, you’ve been here a while ... So where's this 'girl' thing?"
"Gima!"
"OK . Gima. Where is she?"
"In an out tunnel under the Manhattan city."
"Subway?"
"Yea. Subby side. They said."
"That's risky. Lots of open space. I can get by, but not you -- Escaped Human. They're gonna be lookin' everywhere soon."
"So, what 'er we standing here for. Git goin'." Hunter shoves Asmal.
"You up for a fight?"
"Yep."
Running, the two of them follow old subway signs. They slide along the tile walls and jump down on the dead tracks.
"Look for car 138. She and her family live in car 138."
"Family ... how many's that?"
"Dunno."
"You're gonna get us both killed over a maybe-she's-human, human." Asmal shrugs and continues down the track.
"Ahead ...#138." In the flashlight's beam the numbers are clear.
PART SEVEN: Gima
Slowly, they approach. They hear humming - a human child humming . Gima, seeing them, comes out of #138 and stares intently at Hunter. She looks at her hands and touches his. He stoops. He touches her hair. She touches his. Then realizing that his scent is strange, she breathes in deeply, lets out a long, loud Vermel screech and begins signing. Asmal attempts to calm her but it's too late. Mom, a huge red female, springs out and over them blocking any path to escape. Gima runs and clings to her Mother's side while her two, blue eyes watch Hunter.
Father, brothers, sisters, cousins, it seems an endless number of relatives lunge from #138. Asmal and Hunter, armed with machetes, lop off one-eyed heads, a one-armed child is nail gunned, rail spikes found in a fall are rammed through the father's head -- one right in the center of his blue eye. All that remains is carnage and a mother and child clinging fearfully to each other.
Asmal signs to the Vermel mother. "She's human. She needs to come with us. They 'll kill her here. You know that. She's a freak. She'll be displayed and tortured when she's grows up. Give her to us."
"No, she is mine."
"Yours yes, but she will die if she stays with you."
"Both of you come," Hunter interjects; his signing is a poor second to Asmal's. "Hurry!"
"Can't go up." She gestures to her eyes and skin.
"Cover."
"Not enough. It's the air, too."
Now Asmal understands why the two who had come above and took care to remain covered had died anyway. The air was, too clean for them. They needed the impure, thick air to survive. Adaptation, here, had doomed them to remain below.
Quickly hugging her child, she pushes her daughter toward the Upper World strangers.
Gima cowers and signs, "Ma-Ma." Her cheeks are wet with tears.
"Noises from up the tunnel." The enforcers had tracked Hunter. Asmal had covered his own human scent with a simulation of the Vermel odor. He'd forgotten to spray Hunter. He reaches in his bag and sprays Hunter.
"Scent inhibitor. Better late than never."
Gima's mother signs, frantically, "I'll hold the Enforcers off, somehow. I ... I'll tell them you killed everyone," she points to the dead, " and took my Gima. I'll send them in the wrong direction ... if I can." Gima's mother smears blood on her face, arms and clothes and runs toward the enforcers groaning , grunting and howling. "Murder ... Murder ... Gima ... Gima ... "
They can see her far off now, limping down the tunnel, waving frantically to delay the eager Vermel Enforcer Patrol giving Hunter and Asmal time to escape to the forbidden area beyond car 138. There they climb the now quiet, once moving, stairway that leads up to the sun.
******
PART EIGHT: Hunter, Asmal and Gima: Home Sweet Home
In the light of day, Gima looked human but she preferred the cool, thick night air for the first few years here at Asmal's compound. They watched her carefully for signs of poisoning. She came close to death a few times with serious bouts of difficulty breathing but she grew out of it in time. Soon she was wading in the stream, picking flowers and playing like a normal child. She learned to speak, sing, read and write. They watched her grow tall, dark and lean, develop a keen wit, and become a woman.
They shared her, hoping for a child. She conceived and miscarried repeatedly. Years passed, hopes faded. Life was lived. The three were satisfied as three. Then one day when all hope had been forgotten, a baby grew inside her. They celebrated the beginning of a new life, feeling that their efforts had been worthwhile. The two old men were hopeful that there might be others with children somewhere. They would find them, somehow. Invigorated, they made plans.
"A family ... at last." They'd sit and smoke by the fire.
" A family." They'd cuddle together at night with their precious Gima -- their child, their wife.
******
Coming home, one day after foraging for food, they hear her humming and find her in her bed sitting cross-legged, licking her arms and fingers of blood.
"Come, sit, eat with me, I have just made the best food, ever," Gima says offering them a small perfectly formed hand. Smiling, laughing, she is ecstatically pleased with herself ...
"It hurt me," she said matter of factly, "so I just reached down there and pulled it out. Swish it came out. Swish! Then it made a noise that I remembered from the underground world, a screeching ... horrible wail ."
"That was a baby's cry, Gima!! A cry!" Hunter falls to his knees in disbelief. He pounds his head, legs and chest with his fists weeping uncontrollably. "No, no, no!"
"Where's the rest of it?" Asmal grabs the infant hand from Gima and angrily slaps her off the bed onto the cold, Spanish-tile floor, revealing many gnawed and thoroughly cleaned small bones. Leaning over the bed, he vomits. Rage overtakes him as he lunges for Gima. She shinnies away toward the door. He grabs her wrist and pulls her roughly back into the center of the room.
"Where's the rest of it, Gima?"
Gima looks up with innocent confusion and points to the corner of the room. Tears roll down her cheeks.
"Over there. Why, Papa? Why are you angry? Why are you sick? Wasn't it an Under Earth thing, Papa? I threw it over there."She points towards a shadowy lump in the corner. Asmal staggers over to pick up what looks like only a skull and torso ... which is covered with fuzz, slicked down by blood.
Hunter no longer brave is a defeated man sitting on the floor. He shivers and asks pleadingly, "So ... one eye or two, one or two, Asmal ... one or two?!?!?"
Gima stands to leave, shaking her head, skipping away, they hear her sing:
"Morning bells are ringing, morning bells are ringing, Ding Ding Dong, Ding Ding Dong."
Stupid papas. They'll find no eyes. I ate those first.
She runs swiftly to the stream and with her head lifted she scents the other, the one like her, her true mate, Trell. He takes her hand and they sing to calm themselves as their ancestors did:
Are you sleeping, are you sleeping?
Brother John, Brother John?
Morning bells are ringing,
morning bells are ringing
Ding Ding Dong, Ding Ding Dong.
Gima perches on a log and her contractions begin again.
Trell watches and waits. He was one of a litter of four.
"One eye or two, Gima? One eye or two?" He gestures, hopefully. "One eye is best."
Site sponstered, committee voted win.The Thing About Being Alone by J. P. Egry has won the Horror Story Writing Contest. In second place finished 99 Beads by fayesh. In third place finished The Blade by livingwords, Snow Demon by sailaway7289, and Gima by barking dog
| Author Notes |
Thank you Angelheart for your art 'Brave New World.'
Disney song: 'It's a Small, small world.http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7jiaU0xbOKs 'Gima' place third in the site Horror Story Contest judged by the FanStory Committee. Upper Earth- earth as we know it. Under Earth- a world below Upper Earth where the Vermel live Jacknel - Man's owner; a Vermal Ticum- Man's trainer; a Vermal Hunter aka 'Man' and Asmal may be the last humans on earth. Gima a Vermel mutant who looks very human. Trell a Vermel mutant who has come to Upper Earth. Vocabulary: chortles-says wibbles-whines caznu-neutered male thwort- a theatening tone critons- larger denomination than bruicks; 500 bruicks equal one criton bruicks- similiar to dollars Madine and sedderthal - a combination of dried fungi |
By barkingdog
Previous Chapter: Earth is split into two worlds. Upper Earth and Under Earth inhabited by mutant humans called Vermel. Gima is a Verdant, a Vermel mutant. She was born of Vermel parents, but she looks human. Hunter and Asmal brought her top-side when Asmal rescued Hunter who was captive in Bellow City as 'Man', a circus attraction.
They hope for a child but Gima only miscarries. Finally, she IS pregnant! They imagine a happy family. Papas, as Hunter and Asmal are called, return one day to find Gima has delivered a child and destroyed it. She's run off and Asmal intends to pursue her and Hunter is still in shock as this chapter begins.
********************************************************************************************************************
With a swift kick, Asmal attempts to jolt Hunter out of quivering disbelief.
"Get up, asshole. No time for this shit!"
"Bu...bu...but what...what just happened? It's not true...not after all these years. Nooooo!"
"Crying... are we now?" Asmal pours a bucket of water on Hunter's head.
Hunter jumps to standing, shaking like a wet collie. Shock clouds his eyes.
"We gotta find that Vertant bitch," Asmal speaks assertively, assuring direction.
"Gima. She's our Gima."
"She's not! Not any more. I warned you years ago that she showed signs of Vermel. But no, you wouldn't listen. So, I just plain gave up trying to convince you...I wanted to keep the peace...I went on with your belief -- that she was all human, our human child. We shoulda locked her up like I did the other two who'd come up from Under Earth. We shoulda locked her Vertant ass up years ago."
He walks toward the gun rack on the wall and reaches for the key chain looped around his belt.
"She was just frightened. Tha...that's all. Frightened. She didn't mean to. She didn't know."
"Hunter!" Asmal hits himself in the forehead with the butt of his left hand. "She didn't mean to...to what?... Eat it?...Oh, I think she meant to. Don't forget, she was willing to share...Offering us the baby's arm...'the best ever'...you heard her-- she said, 'the best ever.'"
I'll never forget that look in her eyes--wild, eventful, horrific...
God...how I ONCE loved her.
Enough...shit!
Resolutely, unlocking the rack door, he grabs his 30-30 pump and checks out its raised scope. "As Grandaddy used to say, 'This'll git 'er done.'" Holding it in one hand, he jerks it ready.
Hunter springs up and rushes Asmal, reaching for the rifle. "No, you can't. You can't mean ..."
"Oh, yes I can." Pushing Hunter back, sending him pounding into the far wall, Asmal stuffs cartridges in his camo jacket pockets. While gathering other items--his medicinal pouch, dried beans,and jerky, he heads gradually towards the door. He stuffs it all into a large, deer skin pouch as Hunter speaks.
"We, we can. OK? I... I...we can. I agree-- cage her." Hunter follows Asmal's furious pace around the room.
"Why? To watch her? To watch her, do what?" Snatching his 10-inch, stainless-steel, Rambo dagger from the top desk drawer, he jams it snuggle through his high-boot's straps. "
I don't wanta do this either, but I'm not gonna wimp out.
"You--Hunter, you who were caged by them, would cage her?"
"I was alive."
"Yeah, and you escaped. I don't have a death wish." He pulls back his straight, dark hair and ties it with a leather cord.
"Whatta ya mean?"
"Really? You don't get it, man! She's tasted us...the baby was...human. Yeah! Don't ya get it? She thinks humans are, in her words, 'the best ever.' We'd be her next meal, ole buddy...take a frickin' hint. It's gotta be her or us."
Asmal chucks more ammo in the rifle. "Well, this puppy's ready."
Hunter grabs his friend's arm one more time. At the same instant his eyes scan the room. Beside the rustic bed he sees pools of fresh, red blood. The infant's head with gaping holes lies in the corner and a small arm with its five, tiny perfect, white fingers reaches for nothing... anymore. The smell of freshly, torn flesh fills the air, making him dizzy. His knees weaken. He steadies himself as his stomach turns.
He remembers Ticum and the Vermel horrors when he was captive below in Under Earth. How the arena crowd sniffed him through the enclosure and drooled and then tore one of their own apart at the mere scent of human -- at the mere thought of eating him.
The violent, deep retching begins, as memories past and present collide.
The Vermel fear the rise of this basic canibalistic instinct. They know it's a dangerous force--so dangerous that they have to protect themselves from destroying each other.
As his stomach empties, Hunter remembers the once hidden, red lasers sliding out above the circus arena and threatening the audience with immediate death if the mutilation of the dead Vermel continued. Conditioned to respond with passivity to this one specific song, many speakers played 'Frere Jacques' to calm them--to control them.
Gima was humming, 'Frere Jacques' when she slunk away today, bloodied. Long before we took her, she'd been taught control. Too late for the newborn... she remembered for us.
Hunter suddenly realizes that Asmal's right.
Today, she showed great self-control--Vermel self-control.
He releases his frantic grip on Asmal's arm and takes a step back. His eyes clear.
"Finished pukin'? Are ya with the program now, or not?" Smiling, he takes a swig of homemade courage and thrusts the jug at Hunter who hesitates, but then takes it. He fills his mouth, swishes and spits rinsing the sour bile from his mouth . Immediately, he hoists the jug again, this time swallowing repeatedly and relishing the warmth of Asmal's corn liquor.
Hunter pushes his wet hair back, retrieves his Ranger cap from the antler-burr rack on the wall and firmly pulls it on. Extending his arm, hand open, he nods to Asmal. "Bingo!"
Asmal tosses Hunter the loaded 30-30, grabs bow-hunting equipment and checks the sheathed KA-BAR on his belt.
"Ready?"
Hunter finishes pulling on high boots, ties the Bowie's leather scabbard to his thigh and grabs his pack of hiking gear.
"Ready!"
Tracking blood across the entire cabin and out the door, they begin the hunt.
******
Gima and Trell run to embrace near the ancient oak by the Whitetail River. These two Vertants--Trell raised in Bellow City, Under Earth and Gima raised in this the Upper Earth--fell in love.
They've been meeting here every day now for over a year, several hours before sunset. However, today would not be like previous carefree moments which had been filled with play and making-love. Today is exceptional; the unexpected is happening.
Gima pushes. Trell waits. She strains. He watches, chortling and grunting, "What's wrong with you? Are you sick? You're hurting. You bleed! "
"It's time to make another."
"Another?"
"Yes, taste." She takes a piece of torn flesh from her pocket. Mad for the scent, he grabs it and chews voraciously
.
"More, more. I want more. Now!"
"There is no more until I make another!" She sings to calm him, and he sits, rocking passively.
"This one is more difficult to make than the first. Help it come out, Trell. Pull."
Large, long-toed feet appear between her legs--kicking, struggling feet. Then, they calm.
"A child is coming, Gima," he soothes with breathy purring, "we've made a child.'
"Pull it out, NOW."
Trell takes hold, and along with her one strong push, he pulls, and the slippery, slithery thing emerges. He smiles, loving it at first sight.
"So, eat my love. Eat."
"No, Gima," he growls at her suggestion and twerps loudly to celebrate his son's birth. "Everything's perfect. Look he's perfect."
Holding the body up by its feet, he proudly shakes the lifeless mass, swinging it back and forth. He slaps its back, firmly with his broad hand, "We've made a perfect son. Maybe, he'll learn to love our kind," he twerps apologetically, hiding his two eyes, "even though he's a Prime One--see his single, particulate-collector naris, his one eye...
Pleased at the sight of its imperfections, Gima reaches out, sobbing, "It's dead, Trelly. You were too rough. You've killed him."
"No, he's not dead. He's perfect." He smiles and knowingly begins to swing the limp body in a circle above his head.
"Are you crazy? What are you doing. Trelly, stop. Please. No!!" She grabs for her infant as Trell twirls him faster and faster.
Annoyed, he pushes her forcibly to the ground. "Sit! Stay! Wife!" he grunts.
Gima looks up, submissively . "Yes, but why?"
Smiling and drooling, as his blue eyes shine with wisdom, he huffs and twortles, "I do what fathers must. I was told by my father... below in Under Earth...when I transitioned ...when I became a man... It's only told ... to men by men..."
Tears pouring, she crawls over and grips Trell's pillar of a leg as his entire body enters a rhythmic pattern, and his guttural sounds become a repetitive chant. The speed increases, and the child becomes a blur. "Trell, oh Trell, you're frightening me." Leaning back to sit, small and shaking, she buries her face in her hands, so as not to see.
Suddenly, there is life. With a raspy attempt to breathe coming from the creature above his head, Trell slows to stop. He quickly, gently lays his son on the ground beside Gima and kneels on the other side. He swiftly pounds the infant once firmly on the chest , and simultaneously, he places his mouth over the child's mouth and naris and sucks in. As Trell spits the expelled gray glob to the ground, he takes Gima's hand and waits.
Suddenly, with one head-to-toe writhing movement, its eye opens. A scream new to Upper Earth, but familiar below, fills the dusk lit woods.
| Author Notes |
Vertant-the off-spring of two Vermel;looks human.
Vermel-mutated humans who live in Under Earth;communicate via sign language and various sounds. Under Earth-a civilization that exists totally under ground. Bellow City-located in Under Earth. Gima-a Vertant;rescued and raised by Hunter and Asmel Trell- a Vertant; raised by Vermel; did not learn speech;Gima's mate Hunter-once a business man in the city; was captured and tortured by Vermel; 'Papa' to Gima Asmal- a survivalist; built a cabin in the mountains; rescued Hunter; raised Gima with Hunter; 'Papa-Azzy' to Gima twortle-a sound pattern distinctive to the Vermel; a combination of glottal stops, tongue click-clucks and snorts; an assertive pattern. chortle- throaty cooing sounds varying in tonal inflection and duration; used to comfort and please twerps- normal Vermel tonal pattern; he twerps=he says |
By barkingdog
Dear Reader, please note that the category is Horror and Thriller Science Fiction. If you do not like this genre, I suggest you move on, as it is not my intent to displease anyone through content. If you read on, I thank-you, and hope you enjoy.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Previous Chapter: Earth is split into two worlds. Upper Earth and Under Earth inhabited by mutant humans called Vermel. Gima is a Verdant, a Vermel mutant. She was born of Vermel parents, but she looks human. Hunter and Asmal brought her top-side when Asmal rescued Hunter who was captive in Bellow City as 'Man', a circus attraction.
They imagine a happy family. Papas, as Hunter and Asmal are called, return one day to find Gima has delivered a child and destroyed it. She's flees, fearing Asmal's anger. Asmal and Hunter, well armed, are tracking her.
Gima and Trell are beside the Whitetail River under a large oak and have just delivered their son, a Prime-One Vermel, Blathen as this chapter begins.
~~~~~*****~~~~~
Trell proudly picks up his son and chortles, "He's warm and quite a handful." His blue-gray eyes sparkle with ultimate joy. "Here, Gima ... take him."
Trell's hands are suddenly wet. "Blathen!"
Naked and dripping pee, Blathen, gleefully cooing, waves his three-fingered hands and kicks his large-toed feet in Trell's face. "He's anxious for you." Trell laughs as Blathen kicks again, landing quite a strong punch to the chin.
"I can't hold him much longer, Gima," he chortles as Blathen squirms. "What ARE you doing?"
Gima, finding a dry area beneath the massive, central oak, brushes sticks and acorns aside to sit. “OK, be patient," she says firmly as she laughs inwardly at Trell's awkwardness. How can such a large man NOT be able to manage a baby? Look at them ... what a sight ... no wonder ... just look at that ... I love him.
"Com'on then, Trelly. Give him to me. I'm ready." She motions, smiling and cooing welcomingly as she unlaces her deer skin vest.
Blathen quiets immediately. He sights a seeping target and eagerly begins feeding from the fuzz covered, mole-like, blue-gray nipple, one of several scattered on her torso below her taut human breasts. Gima relaxes.
Alerted by a sound, Blathen's large, inquisitive eye looks above and begins tracking through the great oak's leaves. It meticulously follows branch after branch until it meets the alert eyes of an all too curious squirrel.
"Ow!"
"What?"
"He's got teeth!"
"Perfect ... told you – he is perfect."
Blathen slurps loudly, greedy to fill. The pinkish liquid drips from his asymmetrical mouth which is a bit to the left of center. Breathing in his new world, the single, large-hole naris flares directly under his reflective beacon of an eye. He bites down again, reacting to a new tempting scent, and he sends a predatory glare upward to the once curious, now terrified, eyes above.
The squirrel drops his evening meal and runs, barking alert.
Satiated and with his coarse, dark hair finally dry, the strange new being pulls himself into a tight ball and snuggles in close to his mother. Snoring contentedly, he drools. His legs twitch as his eye moves back and forth through his first memory – that of small eyes peering down as their fear-scent permeated the air. And thus, Blathen dreams his pleasant dreams.
Trell takes his place beside them, protectively putting his arm around Gima and pulling her to him. All three dose off peacefully, and for a moment, they feel safe and content. Then she jolts awake.
"Trell!"
... and her contractions begin, again.
******
"Hurry it up. Hunter. You can't slow down now. We've got to find her." Asmal prods Hunter along the deer-run path. "Gima's fast and knows the territory – after all of the hunts we've been on. She knows where our camp sites are and can go far with what we've stashed there. She's clever. We taught her well."
"Oh, yeah. She's our little girl."
"Shit, what a joke." He gives Hunter a friendly poke.
Hunter thinks back to when Gima was little and played beside the river. She learned to swim so easily and caught blue gill by diving down and sitting motionless on the bottom. She'd greedily eat one and then come up with another in her hands.
I should've known she was different. Why did I dismiss it?
Another time, about a year after his rescue and when they took her from Bellow City, Gima was about ten years old and had climbed a tree. She was extremely fast, unlike anything he'd ever seen before. She had tensed and instantly jumped straight up! She immediately caught a branch to swing herself upward. (All this, in order to watch Asmal who was bow-hunting a mid-sized buck.) She sat perfectly still, perched in a peculiar stooping fashion--arms hanging limp, yet ready, at her sides, head thrust forward. Upon sighting the kill shot, she cheered, "Got 'im. Papa-Azzy got 'im."
Finally, yelling down to Hunter from above, she excitedly reported the sight of the buck's blood-trail and its struggle to survive until falling where Asmel found him. How she could see that distance – Asmal was at least three hundred yards away in the bush – and her joy at the blood trail and hunt, now seemed to Hunter another warning sign that he should have picked up on.
Hunter has suppressed this next memory up until now. His face pales at the recall.
I remember after seeing the kill, she let out several guttural clicks ... guttural clicks ... guttural clicks ... turned wild-eyed, wild, wild-eyed began drool ... drooling, and continued climbing higher to the top of the tree where she swayed playfully on the more limber branches--toes gripping, toes gripping. She had been ecstatic at the sight of blood ...
Vermel ... Vermel ... Vermel ...
will out! Why did I forget until now?
Damn, me and my fucked up ... fucked up ... fucked up mind! I saw it. I knew. I remember it all, now--the cheering Vermel ... Bellow City ... the arena ... Ticum ... torture ... Vermel ... murder ... Ticum ... Ticum ... Ticum
Oh, my God ... one of 'them' living with us! I ...
"Hunter, snap out of it ... Earth to Hunter ... come in!" Asmel can't seem to get through the blank stare. "Hey, ass hole, anybody home? I need some help here, man. Hunter, I know you're in there." He shakes him, furiously, by the shoulders. Still nothing. "I hate to do this, old buddy. Brace yourself." Asmal slaps Hunter hard, twice.
Hunter slips backward, lands against a tree and slides to the ground. "Whad ya do that for?" He sees Asmal's worried expression and recalls his drifting thoughts. "Oh man, that again? Sorry."
"Yep, thought I'd lost you for good this time. Welcome back. Can ya keep goin'?"
"Oh, yeah ... for sure ... no problem."
Asmal reaches out his burly hand to help Hunter up. Enjoying a brief 'man-hug' with pats on the back and the usual slight feelings of embarrassment, they know that a deeper sense of camaraderie underlies it all.
Then, matter of factly, as if Hunter's black-out had never happened, Asmel says, "We tried, Hunter. Our project failed. Time to end it. It's that simple."
"Is it? Really ... that simple?"
"Yep, you bet your ass it is." Longer strides place determination on its path.
Adrenalin drained, Hunter lags behind but Asmel never gives up on him.
"Come on, ass hole. We're losin' daylight and knowin' her, she's probably got 'rat' night vision. We're stuck with fuck-ass, antique goggles!"
The sun is low in the darkening, blue sky. A crescent moon sheds little light, as twilight fades.
******
Trell returns from the stream and grins proudly at his success – a family.
"Here, drink." Gently touching his large tan hand, Gima takes several gulps from his palm.
"The Papas will be looking for me." Her face contorts. She pushes. "We're not safe here."
"You are not ready to run." Kneeling at her side, Trell strokes strands of damp, dark hair back from her face.
"Then you take Blathen ... you have to. You know where to hide him?" Panting, she sweats profusely.
Trell nods.
"But you ..." He points to the visible turning movements in her abdomen.
"Return for me when he's safe." She looks lovingly at the beautiful ugliness she holds. "I'll be OK." She looks reassuringly at Trell and points in the direction of mountains beyond the river's edge. "But go now ... go. Quickly."
Go, before I need to scream. You can't stay to protect me. You have to save our son! Fuck, another one's coming. She pants to control the contraction.
He gently caresses and coos his love to Gima, who bravely presses against him, purring her response.
Courage sparked by fear rushes through him. Protectively, he scoops up his sleeping son, now a warm, dry, drooling fur ball. He touches Gima on the forehead and looks into her eyes, wishing things were like yesterday – full of playfulness – when all was still secret.
Both of them know that their lives have just become extremely complicated and threatened; they, like the deer, are the hunted and must run.
She grabs his arm, pulling him to her for a final kiss, and then she pushes him away and says softy, "Go ... go quickly and ... and Trelly ... I love you." She turns her head away but not before she sees the love in his tear-filled eyes.
With Blathen clutched to his chest, Trell's long, muscular legs take them both silently, swiftly into the darkening woods.
Gima sobs, beats the ground and questions her future, accepting that she has no more human family; no more – warm fireplace, stored food and papas' encouragement. She and Trell, as Vertants in Upper Earth have introduced a new species 'top side', one that may survive, may thrive. She thinks of her family below and the sister she left behind. So much to consider. So much to do to remain alive.
******
"Let's try down by the oxbow."
"It's nearly sunset. That'd be a good place to set up camp for the night, anyway."
"Always liked pan fish for breakfast."
Startled, the two men hear something run past and away from them deeper into the woods.
"Listen." Their voices change to whispers.
"Sounds like something big on the run. Did you see anything?"
"Some movement over that way."
" Somewhere near the big oak?"
" Deer?" Asmal points out deer scraping and buck rubbed Redbud trees.
Hunter stumbles, stepping on a dead branch.
"Shhh."
"Sorry."
"Slow and easy. If it's her, she probably hears like a bat."
"Shhh. Listen."
The small gray squirrel, Blathen's first 'sighting', jumps high above them from branch to branch, chattering what he's witnessed and felt. He doesn't look back or down as he rushes for his tree-top nest, to seek refuge from something new, frightening and foreign in his forest.
"Somethin' sure got that squir'l riled." Asmel motions Hunter to follow and signals palm down 'be quiet.'
Gima hears movement in several directions. The closest is down toward the river.
A two-hundred pound white-tail buck who's just developing Spring velvet and several young does had galloped up their range trail to drink from the river as they do every evening about this time. Immediately, their noses raised and ears turned. Evident, strange stench and squirrel chatter had confirmed danger. Stomping in place they worked their front hooves to emit warning scents into the ground for other deer.
"Trelly, is that you?" She moans and falls back in pain.
Snorting huskily and following the seasoned, strong male, they flee, rushing into the river. They swim rapidly across, drowning their scent, hoping to lose the new predator that they know only by the fear that its birth smell provoked.
"Deer ... stampedin' 'cross the Whitetail. Come on!" The men run.
Gima puts a stick between her teeth to keep from screaming and pushes.
Trelly, I can't wait any longer.
She drifts in and out of lucidity. Were those voices imagined or real? Papas? Oh, Trelly, where are you? They're coming. They're near. I'm so alone.
Footsteps and lantern light at a distance could only mean one thing. She tries to stand and falls to her knees. She grasps herself and tries locking her legs together to impede progress of the inevitable.
"Damn, it's dark. Thought we had more time." Hunter lights another lantern.
She hears every word.
Gima readies, bracing her back against the rough bark; she can't contain the massive contraction and the instinctive need to push. Her feet dig into the ground. She bites the stick, closes her eyes and pushes. Burning pressure and fullness prompts her intake of one last deep breath, straining like she's never strained before, her entire body forces life from her one more time. She collapses – spent .
******
"There ... hear that?"
"Yep. It's gotta be her."
They move quickly toward the sound. It's clear – a baby’s cry.
"Oh my God!”
"Mother fucker!"
"Hurry."
They stumble over roots, and suddenly, their lantern lights reflect on pale movement. Legs and arms waving, wailing to wake the night, there it is. Hunter rushes, his vision begins to blur. He retrieves the bald infant, protectively tucking it under his shirt. Tears burst from his eyes as a tiny, five-fingered hand reaches up and two eyes blink open.
Asmel gives him one of those 'not now' looks and paces, looking for any signs of Gima's trail.
"She's gone. The bitch dropped a 'pup' and ran." Asmel stands alert with his KABAR pulled – its blade hungry.
"We have to make camp, Azz. You're just trampling out any signs of a trail."
"Fuck a duck ... Hunter! When you're right, you're right! Damn, 'n we were just that close ... Shit."
He turns toward the light of Hunter's lantern, shoves the hungry blade back in its boot strap and without emotion says, "Now, let's see that 'pup'."
*******
Gima, running for her life, knows where to find Trell.
All that matters now are Trell and Blathen. I left the Papas one of their own. At least it looked human. She grins. That should slow them down for a while.
Clever girl. She laughs.
Vision clear, her strides lengthen. Gima feels light ... herself again – but this time, without pretence of being human – of that she's free.
******
Trell is returning to Whitetail River to retrieve Gima. The night air cools his skin, his senses are alert. He sees light at a distance and smells man.
| Author Notes |
Vertant-the off-spring of two Vermel;looks human. Vermel-mutated humans who live in Under Earth;communicate via sign language and various sounds;noted by their single, particulate-collector naris, one eye, dark, coarse body hair, large toes, three fingered hands and dental deformities; intelligent, but with strong base instincts. Under Earth-a civilization that exists totally under ground. Bellow City-located in Under Earth. Ticum-Vermel;Jacknel's Circus trainer; beat,and tortured Hunter CHARACTERS: Gima-a Vertant;rescued and raised by Hunter and Asmel Trell- a Vertant; raised by Vermel, escaped to Upper Earth; has not yet learned to speak but has learned to understand it from Gima, his mate. Blathen-Gima and Trell's Vermel son; single, particulate-collector naris, one eye; on the heiarchy of Vermel his appearance labels him a Prime-One. Hunter-once a business man in the city; was captured and tortured by Vermel in Bellow City; 'Papa' to Gima; suffers from PTSD. Asmal- a survivalist; built a cabin in the mountains; rescued Hunter; raised Gima with Hunter; 'Papa-Azzy' to Gima Ticum-Vermel;Jacknel's Circus trainer; beat,and tortured Hunter Vermel speech/sounds: twortle-a sound pattern distinctive to the Vermel; a combination of glottal stops, tongue click-clucks and snorts; an assertive pattern. chortle- throaty cooing sounds varying in tonal inflection and duration; used to comfort and please twerps- normal Vermel tonal pattern; he twerps=he says ___________________________________________________________ Vocabulary: will out- is from 'truth will out'; truth will be known or told. pan fish-Yellow perch and blue gill http://www.aa-fishing.com/wv/west-virginia-panfish-fishing.html Also, sunfish are panfish oxbow- The word "oxbow" can also refer to a U-shaped bend in a river or stream, whether or not it is cut off from the main stream.[1][2] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oxbow_lake Spring velvet-seasonal beginning of new antler growth Deer also snort to warn danger. Stomping releases marking scent from glands between their front toes - releasing scent from glands in the hooves called "interdigital glands." ... www.buckmasters.com/top-stories/view-all-articles.aspx?articleT. |
By barkingdog
Dear Reader, please note that the category is Horror and Thriller Science Fiction. If you do not like this genre, I suggest you move on, as it is not my intent to displease anyone through content. If you read on, I thank-you, and hope you enjoy.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Previously: Earth is divided into two worlds. Upper Earth is still human habitat. Under Earth is inhabited by mutant humans called Vermel. Gima is a Verdant, a Vermel mutant. She was born of Vermel parents, but she looks human. Hunter and Asmal brought her top-side when Asmal rescued Hunter who was captive in Bellow City as 'Man', a circus attraction.
They imagined a happy family. Papas, as Hunter and Asmal are called, return one day to find Gima has delivered a child and destroyed it. She's flees fearing Asmal's anger. Asmal and Hunter, well armed, are tracking her.
Gima and Trell have delivered Blathen, a Prime-One Vermel under a large oak near Whitetail River. Knowing she is being hunted by Asmel and Hunter, Gima sends Trell away with Blathen. She delivers a third child, and leaves it under the oak when she hears the men coming.
The end of Chapter 3:
Gima, running for her life, knows where to find Trell.
All that matters now are Trell and Blathen.
I left the Papas one of their own.
At least it looked human. She grins.
That should slow them down for a while.
Clever girl. She laughs.
Vision clear, her strides lengthen. Gima feels light ... herself again--but this time, without pretence of being human--of that she's free.
Chapter 4:
After two hours of continuous running, first along the Whitetail River and finally through a mile of dense forest, Gima enters Apple Valley. With her superior night vision, she's made very good time.
Glowing eyes watch her from the forest's edge, and an opossum skitters in the brambles.
A mere spot in the darkness, a bead of light from the cabin window guides her way. As she crosses the valley, several young deer graze on pokeweed and goldenrod. "Finally, I'm home."
"Trelly," she calls, nearing the cabin. Only a wood owl answers from his look-out atop a tall pine.
Hearing Blathen's answering cry, she brightens and pushes the wooden latch from the cabin door to hurry inside. A lantern, an old railroad relic, hangs from a rusty chain in the center of the sparsely furnished but clean, rustic cabin.
"Come on precious," she speaks to him in a combination of Vermel and Papa's languages. Scooping him up, she tickles his wrinkled, fuzz covered stomach. The fuzz is silky and it's the dark amber color of her younger sister, Banya's hair. He gurgles and squirms. Waving, he reaches up with his wiry arms to grasp onto Gima's dark braids with his long, triple-digit hands.
"Did 'ou miss Mummy?"
Blathen opens his lopsided mouth and throwing back his head, squeals a laugh. Small bugs run at its pitch and bats from the roof's crevices answer, then with foreboding flee to carpet the moon. But to Gima it is a longed for memory of her younger siblings' cries and her time spent tending to them when she was living with her Vermel family only ten years ago.
"Trelly!" she calls, scanning the shadowy corners of the room."Blathen, where's Daddy?" With such exuberant warmth kicking in her arms, she turns her concern for Trell their son.
Happily chortling, Blathen wiggles and sputters. While he pokes and searches her with clawed fingers, his eye adores her, and his pupil dilates as she unlaces her deerskin vest.
"Miak seeps, sweet one, just for you," she coos, offering him what he craves. Blathen gurgles and latches to feed in long, hard, audible sucks. When his needle-like teeth draw blood, Gima accepts his need and relaxes.
To salve her own hunger, she tears the husks from a fresh ear of sweet corn and as juice drips she eyes an apple and several small carrots in a basket filled with fruit, nuts and vegetables -- Trell's store, gathered daily. She drinks a pheasant egg and a ladle of deer milk, as well.
Thank you, Trelly, thank you. Her head nods, and eyes' curtains close. Deep asleep, Gima's legs move through the Whitetail River and across tree tops with Trell.
Drooling comfortably, his stomach distended and silent, Blathen pushes into his mother's warmth and they sleep,contentedly curled up. Gima feeling safe at home and Blathen feeling safe with Gima.
The cabin door creaks, swaying open to close and open again with the warm summer's breeze. Its latch board, left in haste, lies on the ground. Six pair of reflective, predatory, search lights -- weave back and forth, still at a distance but nearing. Even as he sleeps, Blathen's naris filaments begin to quiver and extend. Probing outward their round ends blossom and flutter, absorbing the moist scent-carrying current.
This is not the scent of the small one in the tree who ran. This smells of another. It emits a breath of red --the red that runs when suckling teeth bring flavor. I would like to suckle hard this damp breath of red.
His eye lid raises and his mature globe rotates, on guard.
Ravenous, wild dogs inbred with wolves rule Apple Valley. They hunt whatever they choose to kill and flourish without natural predators. A sleek, muscular, alpha wolf-dog has been tracking Gima. He categorizes her scent, a human variation. Assuming this to be an easy kill, he goes back to the den for his bitch and they venture out, bringing along their four, half-grown pups who are eager to experience their first, large-prey hunting lesson.
Blathen sees twelve pretty stars, twinkling in the night. Blinking off and on, they drift toward the open door, moving closer as the oil light dims.
Blathen withdraws his naris filiments, gargling the collected flavor, he drools a thick slime. His body tenses and taking a deep breath, he growls deep, rolling octaves as a warning to the approaching reflective lights. Simultaneously, he tightens his grip on Gima's hair.
The multi-eyed creature's line of movement with its many legs joined at the shoulders continues. This new world is very strange to the fifteen-hour old Vermel but he is, after-all, a Prime One whose instinct is aroused.
The shape growls back, sharp, white points snap and it separates into six slinking forms that click, click onto the cabin floor.
Blathen snarls baring his double-lines of fine, needle teeth. He tugs Gima's hair -- hard.
Gima jerks awake to the smell of piss splattering on the door way and wolf-dogs strategically aligned. With Verdant speed, she takes a defensive stance.
The lantern's light dies, and as if Hell's demons had just risen up from the center of the earth, snarling cries, whimpers and screams paralyze the valley. Gima, a guardian, with cobra like speed and accuracy, strikes the intruders, thwarting their attack on Blathen. She kicks the smallest pup and it flies across the cabin to slide down the wall; she twirls and throws a second one brutally to the floor; a third, fat one, she kicks out the door, sliding him through his own marking; and the fourth backs off after a swift punch to its nose.
Asmel had taught her to fight and had always told her 'you got skills, 'G' baby, you got skills'. But today surpasses anything she'd ever done in training. Adrenalin charged, her swift movements are practically invisible and their impacts--devastating. Ribs crack; pelts tear; the pups' enthusiasm wanes with pain.
Defensive punctures on her forearms convince Gima that she needs a long tooth, a weapon, but this realization comes a second too late. As she attempts to reach a hunting knife anchored in the knot-hole over the counter, the two genuinely pissed-off parents corner her. Their simple hunt 'n kill is not going as planned and they blame her.
As wails and cries escape through the open door, white tails flag. All nature quiets to hide -- with one exception, the running stream still splashes over its smooth varicolored rocks. Going its own way, ignoring what doesn't concern it, it whisks, briskly along. Having been here since time began, it's positive that this is just a momentary conflict, natural in the balance of things. It flows, murmuring a peaceful message to the river.
Peace lasts but for a moment. Counting to ten, conflict begins again, as the pups regroup.
The bitch and dog yodel encouragement for the pups' attack on Blathen. Pacing nervously, shaking off the previous encounter, newly excited, the young sniff a pungent strangeness in the air and raise their heads to howl, harmoniously, in unison. The first of them, the largest, a shaggy male steps ahead. His sleek-coated litter mates patter behind, slobbering and competitively snapping, vying for position.
Gima screams "No," and growls in Vermel, "Touch him and die!"
Turning their heads, they seem to understand and snap back, "You're next, bitch!"
Struggling to reach the knife, she throws wooden bowls, a pan, everything within reach on the counter at the two. They back away slightly, allowing Gima an unblocked view of her son who lies on his stomach, seemingly, quite unaffected -- eerily calm.
Blathen coos temptingly, and raising his head. He instinctively spews a symmetrical drool puddle around him on the floor.
Attracted by the curious, hypnotic smell, and seeing that the dangerous bitch human is cornered by their parents, the pups surge forward. The goo smells sweet like the honey hives to one and to another it's the scent of a gutted rabbit. Tails wag as they lap it up tasting their favorite imaginings.
The parents bark fiercely and snarl, as Gima slowly edges close enough to pull the knife from the wall. Parrying it towards them, holding them off, Gima reaches out toward Blathen.The bitch bites a lagging leg, halting Gima's progress. Twisting for a firm grip and ready to bring Gima down, her black and tan frame freezes when she hears two yelps and then another and another.
She watches as in seconds all of her pups begin to stagger, then circle several times, and twitching, fall.
The bitch releases Gima's leg and runs, frantically, to her pups. Nudging, whimpering, licking, she tries desperately to revive the dead. At this task, she too tastes Blathen's drool. It reminding her of newly-born off-spring, her greatest joy. Shaking out her last breath, she slumps over her young.
Blathen has killed them all. He watches without a care in the world, safely surrounded by his poisonous slime.
They fall ...
Gima lunges at the pack's last survivor. His will, gone -- he smells only death. She plunges her knife deep into his shaking haunches while Blathen proudly crawls over to suck the moist red he wished for only minutes ago.
...and are mine!
Gima sits crying with relief and shaking in disbelief as Blathen crawls atop the pile of death and bites to have his fill, his eye gleaming with innocent, playful pleasure.
Tonight, beasts who have always won, have met one who will never lose. There is a new predator in the valley.
The large, graying, intelligent leader has witnessed, for the first time, a horror far beyond his own. Losing his footing, he pitifully scrambles across the floor into the safety of the night, leaving five behind.
In those early hours before dawn, the lone wolf-dog braves to raise his oft feared and respected, mellow voice, as he sits silhouetted against the clear night sky. Baying long, mournful sounds to the moon, he cries for the ten new stars twinkling down on him; the wounded warrior plaintively warns the valley of a new predator, one he doesn't understand. He relinquishes his long reign and, as he quiets, sinks into the shadow of the hill.
******
| Author Notes |
Vertant-the off-spring of two Vermel;looks human.
Vermel-mutated humans who live in Under Earth;communicate via sign language and various sounds;noted by their single, particulate-collector naris, one eye, dark, coarse body hair, large toes, three fingered hands and dental deformities; intelligent, but with strong base instincts. Under Earth-a civilization that exists totally under ground. Bellow City-located in Under Earth. Ticum-Vermel;Jacknel's Circus trainer; beat,and tortured Hunter CHARACTERS: Gima-a Vertant;rescued and raised by Hunter and Asmel Trell- a Vertant; raised by Vermel, escaped to Upper Earth; has not yet learned to speak but has learned to understand it from Gima, his mate. Blathen-Gima and Trell's Vermel son; single, particulate-collector naris, one eye; on the heiarchy of Vermel his appearance labels him a Prime-One. Hunter-once a business man in the city; was captured and tortured by Vermel in Bellow City; 'Papa' to Gima; suffers from PTSD. Asmal- a survivalist; built a cabin in the mountains; rescued Hunter; raised Gima with Hunter; 'Papa-Azzy' to Gima Ticum-Vermel;Jacknel's Circus trainer; beat,and tortured Hunter Vermel speech/sounds: twortle-a sound pattern distinctive to the Vermel; a combination of glottal stops, tongue click-clucks and snorts; an assertive pattern. chortle- throaty cooing sounds varying in tonal inflection and duration; used to comfort and please twerps- normal Vermel tonal pattern; he twerps=he says Vocabulary: pokeweed and goldenrod are popular grazing plants for deer;http://www.dgif.virginia.gov/quail/Old-Field_QW.pdf miak- Gima's Verdant breast milk from a seeping mole beneath her human breasts |
By barkingdog
Dear Reader, please note that the category is Horror and Thriller Science Fiction. If you do not like this genre, I suggest you move on, as it is not my intent to displease anyone through content. If you read on, I thank-you, and hope you enjoy.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Previously: Earth is divided into two worlds. Upper Earth is still human habitat. Under Earth is inhabited by mutant humans called Vermel. Gima is a Verdant, a Vermel mutant. She was born of Vermel parents, but she looks human. Hunter and Asmal brought her top-side when Asmal rescued Hunter who was captive in Bellow City as 'Man', a circus attraction.
They imagined a happy family. Papas, as Hunter and Asmal are called, return one day to find Gima has delivered a child and destroyed it. She's flees fearing Asmal's anger. Asmal and Hunter, well armed, are tracking her.
Gima and Trell have delivered Blathen, a Prime-One Vermel under a large oak near Whitetail River. Knowing she is being hunted by Asmel and Hunter, Gima sends Trell away with Blathen. She delivers a third child as the sun is setting and leaves it under the oak when she sees lantern light and hears Asmel and Hunter approaching.
~~~~~*****~~~~~
Story link from Chapter 3:
"Hurry."
They stumble over roots and suddenly their lantern lights reflect on pale movement. Legs and arms waving, wailing to wake the night, there it is. Hunter rushes; his vision begins to blur. He retrieves the bald infant, protectively tucking it under his shirt. Tears burst from his eyes as a tiny five fingered hand reaches up and two eyes blink open.
Asmel gives him one of those 'not now' looks and surveys the area looking for any signs of Gima.
"She's gone. The bitch dropped a 'pup' and ran." Asmel stands alert with his KABAR pulled--its blade hungry.
"It's too dark to keep tracking, Azz. We need to make camp. For Pete's sake ... stop, milling about ... you’re just ruining any possible trace of trail."
"Shit! When you're right you're right!" He tosses his pack on the ground. "'N we were just that close ... piss on it!" Off his shoulder, the medicinal pouch joins the pile.
He turns toward the light of Hunter's lantern, shoves the hungry blade back in its boot strap and with an unnatural calm in his voice says, "Now, let's see that 'pup'!"
Chapter 5:
Afraid of what Asmal might do, Hunter hovers protectively over the squalling infant who begins to calm as it warms, nuzzling close. Hunter's mind drifts off into one of his elusive delusions, his eyes glaze over and his face goes blank.
Asmel waits, knowing that Hunter always returns to reality, and hopes for only a short mental-detour, this time. He shifts the bulky bow equipment on his back for comfort, throws water on his face and neck while drinking from the river, and relieves himself in the brush.
Man, I'm gonna have to add some juice to this wake-up call! But if I touch him, he might frickin' freeze, like before, and that took two days for him to 'get back. Shit. Decisions!'
Since listening to crickets is not his favorite past time, Asmel prepares for the worst and gradually raises his voice. "Hunt! Hunter, ol' buddy. Hey there, snap outta it! ... Hunter ... asshole, wake the fuck up!"
"Wha ... what is it ... oh ... crap! Again? I hate it when that happens!"
"You hate it? I have to stand in a time-warp and wait for robot-man to reboot!"
Startled by Asmel's shout, the child begins to squall; some pitches are beyond human range and those in range are deafening.
"Quite a set of lungs, eh?" Hunter says matter-of-factly, faintly smiling, but then he notices the tell-tale twitch in the corner of Asmel's left eye.
"So let me see what she's left us ... come on, hand it over."
"It's cold ... hungry ... deserted ... Azz," his voice wavers.
A small hand protrudes, pushing Hunter's shirt and jacket open. Covered with leaves, stuck to it like confetti, Gima's third child is quite a strange sight, looking more like some tree creature's child from an alternate universe -- than human.
"Pitiful, Hunter! You're just pitiful. You hang onto that thing, out of a cannibalistic gene pool, as if it were Man's second chance. Fuck ... WE are the last. Man has no chance ... not anymore ... and especially, not with that ... that ... thing!"
He steps quickly forward, reaching for the infant.
Hunter reacts in kind. Even with toes crippled by Ticum's torture years ago, he moves with speed. He backs against a nearby tree to steady himself and hobble-hop skips to the river's edge, but dares go no further.
"Go on in and drown it. Get it over with, Pussy. You know we can't love another freak -- like we did ... her. You shouldn't, for obvious reasons." He taps his temple. "And I, just plain, can't ... I won't do it again!" Asmal rushes forward.
Hunter stumbles sideways into the river, barely keeping his footing on the bottom rocks. Hold on kid, I got ya. Cool water rushes to his knees.
Unable to find Gima, Trell, hidden in the shadows, watches the two men that he's heard her speak of as her Papa's. He believes that they have been kind to her, but he knows that they are Men, the enemy of Under Earth, the enemy of Vermel.
But what of Verdants, like Gima, like me? Are these Papas friend or foe?
They would surely kill Blathan, but have not done so with this one. The one whose mind drifts protects my child.
When he sees Asmel forcing Hunter toward the river, Trell moves across the tree tops.
"Hunter, stop! Listen ... above in the trees ... "
"She's still here ... see she didn't leave?"
"She's watching."
"She's afraid."
"She'd better be fucking terrified." Asmal reaches for his knife.
Hunter wades a bit up stream, stumbling over rocks, back to shore, and taking off his jacket, folds it around life's noisy protest.
"Stop ... I think ... no, I'm sure ... she's probably ... sorry."
"Bull shit, she's probably hungry!" Asmel flashes back, raising his dagger and heading directly for them.
"Have you gone completely mad!"
"No, you have!"
When Asmal makes a move for the child, Hunter stoops, lays it on the ground, and then steps over and in front of it. Thus placing it safely behind him, he takes several paces forward to stand his ground.
"Not so fast Kimosabi!" He lands a punch to Asmel's jaw.
"What was that? A mosquito bite?"
Hunter peeks awkwardly between his up-raised fists, "O.K. Ya want more? Come 'n get it!" He weaves back and forth trying to appear as if he knows what he's doing, looking more like a child's marionette, than a fighter.
Asmal breaks out laughing. In spite of himself, he feels his temper fade and tucks his knife back in its boot strap.
"Whoa there, buddy," he guffaws, holding his hands high above his head. "I surrender ..." Bringing them down, he slaps his thighs. "I've had enough ...!"
Hunter slowly lowers his fists. And blowing on his extended first fingers, he holsters his make-believe weapons. Trying his best rootin' tootin' Western drawl, he adds, "Names Hunter, Nigel Hunter ...'n ya better not forget it!"
His hearty laugh joins Asmal's.The two of them haven't laughed like this since the time a curious, black bear broke into their in-ground store room and drank a barrel of honey. They found him in a stupor--his head still in the barrel.
Trell observes. They are strange, these Men. They fight ... then laugh. Strange.
"Gima, come down at once."
Hunter glares at Asmel. "Gima, sweetheart, we aren't angry. Come see, your baby's fine. It's not ... even cryi ..."
It's gone.
"Fuck a duck! I'm such an ass ... she trumped us again." Asmal pulls his Rambo blade and throws it at a tree with killing force.
"Man, I forgot how fast ... how quiet, she can be."
Pacing madly from river to oak and back, Asmel is furious. "Sneaky bitch!" He retrieves his knife and throws it once more, dead centering an old tree's healed wound.
Hunter collapses to sit Indian style, and leaning forward, repeatedly pokes a stick in the soft river bank. With remorse and a feeling of failure, he tosses it into the river and watches it float away down stream like a memory, fading in the endless, dark current.
After buttoning his shirt, he stands up slowly and brushes himself off. Feigning a full recovery, Hunter endevors a broad smile.
"Tracking at sun up ... then ... partner?" He takes off his backpack, drops it to the ground and rotates his shoulders for comfort.
"You bet, ol' buddy! Damn, we were so fuckin' close!" Asmel picks up a smooth, round rock and pitches it, as far as he can, up river. Its distant plunk startles a runner.
Trell slows to look behind him and, seeing nothing of any consequence, he resumes his determined pace.
Chortling a song of rumbling and chirping notes, a Vermel lullaby of Under World lyrics and tone, he runs beside a frightened deer for a quarter of a mile until it veers off into the forest. I must hurry.
His feet are sure and his vision is clear in this familiar, moon bright territory. He thinks only of his family -- part of it in his arms and the rest of it, not far away now, waiting for him in a small cabin. His strides widen. His arms tighten. He hopes.
Gima, wait for me.
He glances at this trusting child who resembles its mother. He names it Zee.
Rest. Soon you will meet your elder brother, Blathen.
| Author Notes |
Thank you Diannatilley for your art 'Nature's Painting of New River.'
Author Notes Vertant-the off-spring of two Vermel;looks human. Vermel-mutated humans who live in Under Earth;communicate via sign language and various sounds;noted by their single, particulate-collector naris, one eye, dark, coarse body hair, large toes, three fingered hands and dental deformities; intelligent, but with strong base instincts. Under Earth-a civilization that exists totally under ground. Bellow City-located in Under Earth. Ticum-Vermel;Jacknel's Circus trainer; beat,and tortured Hunter CHARACTERS: Gima-a Vertant;rescued and raised by Hunter and Asmel Trell- a Vertant; raised by Vermel, escaped to Upper Earth; has not yet learned to speak but has learned to understand it from Gima, his mate. Blathen-Gima and Trell's Vermel son; single, particulate-collector naris, one eye; on the heiarchy of Vermel his appearance labels him a Prime-One. Hunter-once a business man in the city; was captured and tortured by Vermel in Bellow City; 'Papa' to Gima; suffers from PTSD. Asmal- a survivalist; built a cabin in the mountains; rescued Hunter; raised Gima with Hunter; 'Papa-Azzy' to Gima Ticum-Vermel;Jacknel's Circus trainer; beat,and tortured Hunter Vermel speech/sounds: twortle-a sound pattern distinctive to the Vermel; a combination of glottal stops, tongue click-clucks and snorts; an assertive pattern. chortle- throaty cooing sounds varying in tonal inflection and duration; used to comfort and please twerps- normal Vermel tonal pattern; he twerps=he says Vocabulary: miak- Gima's Verdant breast milk from a seeping mole beneath her human breasts |
By barkingdog
Dear Reader, please note that the category is Horror and Thriller Science Fiction. If you do not like this genre, I suggest you move on, as it is not my intent to displease anyone through content. If you read on, I thank-you, and hope you enjoy.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Previous Happenings:
Asmel and Hunter are tracking Gima, and Asmel wants to kill her because she is Vermel.Gima and Trell have delivered Blathen, a Prime-One Vermel under a large oak near Whitetail River. Shortly after, she delivered Zee and left him to be found by Asmel and Hunter (the Papas). After taking Zee from the Papas, Trell travels to meet Gima and Blathen in Apple Valley.(Chapter 6: Part 1) .
~**~~**~~**~~**~
CHAPTER 6: Part 1
But what kind of child is this that did not need ceremonial awakening? It took life without me -- the father.
Trell has been running for hours with his squalling new-born son and now, turning east from the river, he nears the last leg of his trek home. The sun rises over the valley, casting shadows behind him as its warm rays filter through the sugar maples and birch. Sassafras and honeysuckle scents fill the damp morning air when he exits the forest's perimeter and looks across the open meadow of Apple Valley.
"Just there," he chortles, quickening his pace toward the cabin. "Just there is home."
Trell attempts to comfort Zee's incessant crying with Vermel thrumping songs, but the wailing only increases and turns into loud gasping hiccoughs.
Do you never cease? You challenge all patience.
Zee's hysterical kicking and squirming, like a slippery worm, makes it nearly impossible to run with any speed. Trell can't take it any longer; he stops on the spot and throws the jacket covering the child on the ground.
May the gods of my father's fathers listen and quiet you to my command.
He holds Zee high in the air, showing him to the sky-cloud entities.This is my son, and I do as a father must, for a son shall honor his father's wishes. As my father did in Bellow City, I do now.
"Silence, Zee. Silence!"
But there is no silence -- only tearful fussing, profuse dripping of snot and a look of extreme discomfort. Zee squirms in Trell’s hands, dangling free in the air, and releases a warm yellow spray. Immediately, he begins to smile and coo with relief. Trell, dripping wet, is as proud as any father can be.
So the marking ritual begins. You are truly my son if you begin this without invocation. Your instincts are quick, as were my father's and his father before him.
Trell's laughter erupts and the stresses of the last two days seem to disappear. Deciding to turn this moment into an instructional one as well as a bonding ritual, he points Zee's dwindling stream at a nearby periwinkle patch.
“Mark and claim it yours.”
His patient throaty tones encourage Zee's first territorial marking, and when the lesson is over, they play. Both laugh -- Trell in his low melodious tones and Zee in tongue waggling vowels. After a few tickles to Zee’s round belly, Trell proudly tosses his giggling son high in the air, and the clouds show their approval by releasing a quick spring shower. Trell lifts Zee again, and they both drink the refreshing rain while washing themselves clean.
It's a beautiful green and blue day scented with wild berries and honeysuckle. A perky, gray squirrel's family jumps about, chattering playfully in the branches of a nearby Maple, and nesting robins feed early morning worms to their wide-mouthed dependents. Father and son happiness is welcome here.
Trell puts Zee down on a clover patch, and surveying the distance, marks this portion of the field with a masculine sweeping motion.
“This is my valley. I am home with my son.”
The word spreads from robin, to squirrel, to deer and soon all know that Trell is back and brings another. Many wonder if he is like the other small one who vanquished the wolf-dogs.
"Here we go, my boy," he chortles, swooping Zee up under his arm."We are off to find the rest of us -- your mother and brother."
Stopping for a moment to breathe in the heavy, damp air, hoping to soothe his dry and tender nasal particulate collectors, Trell stretches his long, slim limbs, and tying his light-colored hair back with a braided cord of tall grass, he looks forward to beginning the short run across the field to the one-room cabin that he calls home.
All is uneventful and relaxed until he breathes in an all too familiar foe. He slows to a cautious, slouching walk near the cabin trail. “It’s the large, gray one, Zee. Learn his musky, foul stench. Wake. You must take this in.”
Wrapped, again, in Hunter's jacket and slung over Trell’s broad shoulder, Zee sleeps, trusting and unaware.
Closer, now, to the cabin, Trell instructs, “Smell that? Death, Zee … the scent of life dismissed.” He reaches for his deer horn weapon.
The gray, four-legged one and others were here ... are here?
“Gima! ... Blathen!” No one answers. He snarls. Zee stirs.
Oh, Gods of my father's fathers!
Fear evokes deep suspicions and with instinctive rage, Trell bursts through the open cabin door. He takes a defensive stance -- his feet wide, planted firmly; body flexed, weaving back and forth; horn strategically raised to strike. He challenges what he expects to find with an intense cabin-shaking, guttural growl. But all that answers are Zee’s waking yowl and the buzz of blow flies. The only movements are small scavengers escaping with their booty.
He surveys the carnage in front of him, his eyes wide. A pile of fur and bones with legs and heads ripped from shoulders and hips lies in the center of the room. The smell of bile and internal organs from gutted bodies is stifling. Indistinguishable parts have been raggedly ripped and shredded before being thrown to stick in massive clumps on the ceiling, above the door and on the windows. Multiple, small trails, slide through the blood, and three-fingered hand prints, artistically, color the floor red.
Seeing Gima's footprints in a drying blood-trail, he quickly ties Zee to his chest with a macramé sling that he finds near Blathen's mat. He returns the deer horn to its leather sheath and heads out the door. Outside, he draws in a deep breath, lifts his chin and lets out a chilling call composed of multiple tones. It’s a new sound to the Valley, and it carries to the stream and beyond.
Animals are put on alert, for they know not what is to follow. Fox rush to their dens, and a lumbering, black bear gallops deep into the forest, relinquishing the hive it had worked for hours to bring to the ground, leaving its gold liquid to seep out, wasted. And Zee kicks, squalling in protest.
Just hours ago, Blathen had gone wild with glee after his poisoning of the bitch and her four pups. He had lapped up the fresh, warm blood which he catalogued to memory as ‘red’ and then had thrown carnage everywhere as he tore the carcasses apart searching for hearts, livers and various interesting bones. As a result, he was covered in wolf bits and blood spatter. He remembers this as a 'very good' day.
Sitting in the stream, Blathen keeps his eye on the basket of wolf parts that Gima has brought for him as he refused to leave the cabin without them. She can still see him opening the dead wolf-dogs, like presents, and tearing through them, discarding parts here and there, keeping others. All the while he was howling, grabbing and gathering his treasure into a pile and finally, holding onto and hovering over it protectively with hissing force if she tried to remove him from it.
He still holds on fast to a rib bone which he sucks and gnaws while Gima bathes him. She pours clear water over his head and the red fuzz darkens on his body as the water runs off of him, red, then pink into the stream. He gurgles with glee as he spots a school of silvery minnow and lunges to strike them with the bone.
“Hold still, Blathen! Fishing comes later! I’ll never get all of this out of your hair."
“Mommy’s little monster -- that’s what you are.” Gima washes his long toes, playfully tugging on each one. Between his legs she notices the Vermel male’s pride and joy – both bobbing in the current. A wonderful little Prime- One!”
Up-stream from Blathen's 'blood-bath', she lets the cool water wash clean the tear in her leg from the large wolf-dog's teeth. She is busy preparing a green clay poultice in the manner Asmel had taught her when Trell's call reaches them.
"Listen! Blathen, it's Daddy! “Blathen cocks his head and attempts to imitate what he hears. His brow furrows as he listens intently and twortles various pitches until he finds the same one. He bellows out a tone -- a small but effective message.
Slapping the poultice to her wound and securing it with moss, Gima stands and adds her voice to the traversing calls.
"Hear them? There are two." Trell rushes with Zee toward the answering sounds. "They live. Blathen thrives. As shall you."
Zee wails. Trell’s strides lengthen.
Gima hobbles, as fast as the pain will allow, into the clearing at the edge of the field. She nearly trips over a newly dropped fawn hidden in the tall grass. Its eyes plead for mercy; Gima moves on.
Blathen, eyeing the fawn, emits a shrill scream and the fawn, ears back, rolls tightly into a ball, feigning invisibility. He watches the spotted one's stillness and catalogues to memory its scent of fear. Thinking of his lost basket of wolf parts left by the stream, he puffs up to spew but Gima covers his mouth and says, “NO, that’s Daddy’s.”
What’s Daddy? Why is the brown-spotted-one his? I am the strongest. Am I not? As he looks back at the shivering fawn, his poison drool drips, killing insects in the grass. You will be mine, I promise.
“Trell!” Seeing him in the distance, Gima calls out.
Trell lets out a howl of relief and happiness, and his feet seem to fly over the last 100 yards of meadow.
“Trell," she sobs, reaching out her arms.
Blathen, seeing Gima’s passionate tears, reaches up and touches his eye. He searches his face for a second eye and finds none. He reaches for her tears and tasting them, his tongue swells with pleasure. He wonders both of these things.
Trell pushes Zee’s sling to the side, and grabbing Gima pulls her close. He tells her with his firmness of his lack of her and she reaches down to him confirming the same.
| Author Notes |
Vertant-the off-spring of two Vermel;looks human.
Vermel-mutated humans who live in Under Earth;communicate via sign language and various sounds;noted by their single, particulate-collector naris, one eye, dark, coarse body hair, large toes, three fingered hands and dental deformities; intelligent, but with strong base instincts. Under Earth-a civilization that exists totally under ground. Bellow City-located in Under Earth. Ticum-Vermel;Jacknel's Circus trainer; beat,and tortured Hunter CHARACTERS: Gima-a Vertant;rescued and raised by Hunter and Asmel Trell- a Vertant; raised by Vermel, escaped to Upper Earth; has not yet learned to speak but has learned to understand it from Gima, his mate. Blathen-Gima and Trell's Vermel son; single, particulate-collector naris, one eye, two penises; on the heiarchy of Vermel his appearance labels him a Prime-One. Zee-Gima's second son who looks human Hunter-once a business man in the city; was captured and tortured by Vermel in Bellow City; 'Papa' to Gima; suffers from PTSD. Asmal- a survivalist; built a cabin in the mountains; rescued Hunter; raised Gima with Hunter; 'Papa-Azzy' to Gima Ticum-Vermel;Jacknel's Circus trainer; beat,and tortured Hunter Vermel speech/sounds: twortle-a sound pattern distinctive to the Vermel; a combination of glottal stops, tongue click-clucks and snorts; an assertive pattern. chortle- throaty sounds varying in tonal inflection and duration; thrumping songs-songs Trell learned growing up in Bellow City, Under Earth; melodic, throaty, glottal. Vocabulary: particulate collector - a Vermel adaptation, mutation; porous tublar filaments; can extend from the naris in a searching fashion; they both taste and smell; alert to emotions of other species; Verdants may or may not have remnants; nodes in nasal pharynx tissue may be all that remain in Vermel. toning- saying; using a series of sounds other than speech |
By barkingdog
Dear Reader, please note that the category is Horror and Thriller Science Fiction. If you do not like this genre, I suggest you move on, as it is not my intent to displease anyone through content. If you read on, I thank-you, and hope you enjoy.
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Previously:
Gima gave birth to Blathen, a Prime-One Vermel under a large oak near Whitetail River. Shortly there after, she delivered Zee who she left for Asmel and Hunter to find. Blathen's drool has poisoned attacking wolf-dogs and the dismembered remains are in the valley cabin. Gima has a poultice on a wolf-dog bite on her leg. Asmel and Hunter, unaware of Trell or Blathen, are tracking Gima who Asmel wants to kill because she is Vermel.Trell, who has taken Zee from the two men, arrives carrying him and meets Gima and Blathen in Apple Valley.
Chapter 6 is the first half of this reunion in the valley.
Chapter 7:
Trell pushes Zee’s sling to the side, and grabbing Gima, pulls her close. He tells her with his firmness of his lack of her and she reaches down to him confirming the same.
Blathen howls and pushes between them, ending any continued passion with a possessive glare. Unprepared for Blathen’s intervention, Gima stumbles backward and Trell, catching her by the arm, notices her leg.
"Gima, you’re hurt."
"No, no I'm fine."
Trell kisses her cheek and moves to touch Blathen who will have none of it and chortles a low roll of caution followed by a series of venomous hisses.
"What?" Trell grunts, shrugging his shoulders in disbelief as Blathen continues to hiss and glare, moving forward to block Trell’s contact with Gima.
"He's had a big day," she says, as Blathen waves his wolf-rib pacifier.
Trell gestures, "Tell me of the kill."
“ It was Blathen’s kill. He saved us both." Trell asks no more, knowing that Blathen can sense every emotion, and he is already behaving badly as a son towards his father. This will be dealt with in due time, my son, in due time.
Gima pokes Zee, who vigorously sucks his thumb. "Why did you bring this one here?"
"He's our son."
"Look and listen, Trell. He is of them!"
" He is of US! How could it be otherwise?"
She takes the wailing, fat, bald, toothless Zee, and sitting on the soft, green grass with a look of 'you’ll soon see' on her face, she unlaces her leather vest to place him on her chest. Blathen watches intently, because he considers her lower torso's fuzzy, wart-covered moles HIS.
Zee eagerly nuzzles, and the pungent scent of ooze from a dark mole reaches Blathen. He releases his treasured, wolf-bone and screeches loudly in short high-pitched bursts as he pushes out of his sling and aggressively moves into his feeding position.
"Blathen must let Zee feed. Gima, move him aside!"
Again, Gima knowingly smiles as Blathen slurps away at her torso. She rubs a nipple on one of her two human breasts. Tasteless, smooth, useless rejected by Blathen, but the sweet parts, loved by Hunter and Asmel, they begin to weep for attention. A thin, sweet fluid drips from the pert targets, and Zee slides his gentle lips over one of them. His tongue, knowing that this is where it belongs, begins to pull nourishment.
Gima looks at Trell as the two brothers, each content in having his own part of her, feed. It’s evident that one is a Prime One Vermel; but what of the other? Blathen's eye continuously surveys. Zee's eyes close unafraid and trusting. Blathen grips with teeth and newly grown claws on three- fingered hands. Zee embraces with his smooth arms, and holds Gima's hair with five fingers above while his toes wiggle in Blathen's fuzzy, red hair below. Blathen growls, protecting his territory, and Zee coos that he has all that he needs.
Trell watches. Not wanting to believe. Have I brought the worst to live among us? A human?
Despondent, he sits down beside them in the tall grass. He lowers his head and with his hands on his knees he sways from side to side and hums one continuous tone over and over again until he collapses onto his back in silence. His eyes stare above for answers.
How could this have happened? He understands why Zee lived without the father's ceremonial awakening. Female deceiver! She allowed ... I cannot think of it.
He feels the loss of one son ... But, I care for him, a human.
... and regrets the hate of another. He has bonded with his mother. I was not there.
The doe retrieves her fawn, and they disappear into the woods to a nearby thicket where other deer rest with their young. It has been a bountiful spring in the Valley. Wild, yellow daffodils dance along the edge of the meadow to meet the violets in the shade of the forest's tree- line. Corn's silk tassels wave in the warm breeze as fertile kernels ripen in the sun.
Night hunters sleep, and men in the woods walk slowly.
The family of four rests. Gima's head, pillowed on Trell's stomach, moves up and down. She listens to his inner rumblings and their growls as hungers argue inside.
"Trell?"
He doesn’t answer. He has much to decide and has no answers.
Blathen’s nasal proboscises reach outward to sweep across Zee’s face and travel from eye to eye tasting dried tears. As he watches Zee sleep, a peculiar emptiness creeps over him, and he lets out a low, mournful three burst cry.
"Woo, woo, woo." Looking into Gima’s eyes with his dark-brown, gold- speckled orb, he has questions about this new one.
Gima’s heart is breaking, as nothing seems to be in its correct place. Happiness was here only minutes ago. Where has it gone? Trell and Zee sleep while she and Blathen are restless, wide awake.
“Let your brother sleep, now, Blathen,” she says softly, handing him his favorite pacifier. He takes it, and with a look of undying devotion, he recalls his ‘good’ day, his first kill. Sucking the bone, he drifts into dreams of hearts and livers and a small fawn’s scent. His particulate collectors, always alert, guard the air, and he keeps one foot over Zee, just in case …
Gima weeps, now, as Trell has turned away, and his back is an unfriendly sight. Never having heard the word ‘infidelity’, she has no idea how he suffers over conflicts he now faces within himself from his Vermel parent’s teachings, and his love and need for her. She has no idea what consequences he considers. She has no idea.
********
It is the same day, and only hours away, Hunter and Asmel are preparing to leave their camp beside the Whitetail River.
"Pack up the gear, and let's get a move on!"
"Right!" At the water's edge, Hunter fills two water pouches and Asmel traipses around poking the ground with a long tracking-stick which he’s fashioned from a fallen River Birch. He’s placed movable loops of leather on its shaft for gauging a trail’s direction.
"No trail's left of her through the woods. You were right. I trampled it out last night. Shit for brains, that's me when I'm pissed! “ Head down and eyes searching, he meanders off up river.
Hunter pulls in two fishing lines of struggling breakfast which he soon cleans and puts to fry. The delicious aroma even prompts a gray squirrel to stare at his seed store in dismay and bring his whole family out to sit chattering on the great oak's lower branch like starving beggars.
“Sorry, guys. Not enough for you,” Hunter laughs as he turns the sizzling sunfish and tosses in a few edible roots.
Hurrying back, Asmel splashes through a shallow in-flow of water at the river's edge. As if calling a court to order, he stamps the birch staff on the ground.
" Hey, Cookie! I found it! Her trail’s just up river, not far. Hate to eat and run ... but, trail's fresh.”
He stuffs his cheeks chipmunk-full, and licking his fingers, he sputters, "Superior eats, Nigel. Top notch!"
"Nigel Hunter at your service.” He flourishes a bow and salutes toward the pan, now empty of fish.
"Let's go find our baby boy -- looks a lot like you, all pale and bald." Asmel tests Hunter's sense of humor as he throws water on the fire. "And such a whiner … “
Hunter shrugs his shoulders; nothing can faze him this morning after holding the child last night. Not even Asmel's sarcasm can dampen his hopeful disposition. Stooping to pack the frying pan into his gear, he hides a proud grin. He rumbles his throat as he begins to tear-up. A son is it? ... Well, I'm sure not calling him Nigel!
The shadows of two hunters, one with stick in hand, move steadily along the river as the men travel north, upstream. Asmel, who was learning to track when he was only four, is puzzled. Gima knows how to cover a trail ... Hell, how to never leave one! What is it with all of this crushed ground cover, torn ferns, broken shit everywhere?
Asmel stoops, beside a thimble-berry bush. "She stopped here. She likes these." He pops several in his mouth as he scans the surrounding grass. He stoops, places several rocks on the ground at signs of trail, and notices a change of direction as he lays the tracking-stick between them.
“Trail veers off into the forest from here.” Her stride seems unusually long and heavy.
"We'll find her?"
"What?” His mind still on the peculiar trail signs, he startles. “Oh … oh … you bet your sweet ass! Soon, buddy ... soon!" Slapping Hunter on the back, they turn east toward the sunrise, shining through the tall birches.
A pecker drills for burrowing larva in the darken bark of a sugar maple and stops abruptly.
"Listen." Hunter has always had a keen ear for even the slightest sound.
"Listen, Azzy!"
A strange, human-like warbling-yodel reverberates, encompassing the forest like an energy force. Many sounds seem to fade, while others become more audible to Hunter. The pecker's wings flap loudly as it abandons its search and takes flight. The galloping hooves of several fleeing deer become drum beats in Hunter's head while their forms, merely shades, flicker through the mulberry and underbrush. Their repeated snorting alerts cause him to cover his ears and slump to the ground.
"Pain ... Azzy ... Pain ... Under Earth sounds."
Asmel hears something, far away, barely discernible to his ears. "What? ... Nigel ... get up man!"
Hunter begins to stiffen.
"Oh, no you don't. No time to get all nuts on me. Stand up!" He reaches down, pulls Hunter up and pushes him forward.
"O. K. ... O.K., I'm goin'. I'm goin'. Geez!" Hunter has no recollection of what he's just heard or said.
Asmel is aware of nature's changes. All is silent except for the fluttering flap of shivering leaves and the dripping drops of their last morning dew. Jacks-in-the-pulpit stand alert on the forest floor, bravely presenting their poisonous leaves while the asters and periwinkles wilt, too afraid to drink. Hairs on the back of Asmel's neck rise when a frightened wood mouse scurries past and a red fox backs tightly into his den as they pass. Birds cover their chirping young with comforting breasts and tuck their own eyes under wing. His sixth sense screams danger. Asmel readies his bow. Hunter in turn brings his rifle forward.
"Ready?"
"Ready!"
"We're almost through this god-awful range of forest. We'll make it by nightfall."
"It'll be good to relax in the cabin tonight and not have to keep one eye open for bears."
"Or that big, wolf bastard."
“Yeah.”
"I bet he's made a litter by now. Saw him with a young female last fall."
"Like I said, it'll be good to be in the cabin. It'll need a good sweepin' out."
“You clean up the mess … I’ll go huntin'.”
“Rabbit?”
“No, I'm thinkin' wolf kabobs .... a bit of apple ... a stick, eh? You like wolf, don't ya, pal?” Asmel teases, straight faced.
“Rabbit!”
| Author Notes |
Thank you Outdoor Wonders for your lovely picture, 'If Trees could talk.'
Vocabulary: Vertant-the off-spring of two Vermel;looks human. Vermel-mutated humans who live in Under Earth;communicate via sign language and various sounds;noted by their single, particulate-collector naris, one eye, dark, coarse body hair, large toes, three fingered hands and dental deformities; intelligent, but with strong base instincts. Under Earth-a civilization that exists totally under ground. Bellow City-located in Under Earth. Ticum-Vermel;Jacknel's Circus trainer; beat,and tortured Hunter CHARACTERS: Gima-a Vertant;rescued and raised by Hunter and Asmel Trell- a Vertant; raised by Vermel, escaped to Upper Earth; has not yet learned to speak but has learned to understand it from Gima, his mate. Blathen-Gima and Trell's Vermel son; single, particulate-collector naris, one eye, two penises; on the heiarchy of Vermel his appearance labels him a Prime-One. Zee-Gima's second son who looks human Hunter-once a business man in the city; was captured and tortured by Vermel in Bellow City; 'Papa' to Gima; suffers from PTSD. Asmal- a survivalist; built a cabin in the mountains; rescued Hunter; raised Gima with Hunter; 'Papa-Azzy' to Gima Ticum-Vermel;Jacknel's Circus trainer; beat,and tortured Hunter Vermel speech/sounds: twortle-a sound pattern distinctive to the Vermel; a combination of glottal stops, tongue click-clucks and snorts; an assertive pattern. chortle- throaty sounds varying in tonal inflection and duration; he says = he chortles twerps- normal Vermel tonal pattern; he twerps=he says thrumping songs-songs Trell learned growing up in Bellow City, Under Earth; melodic, throaty, glottal. Vocabulary: particulate collector - a Vermel adaptation, mutation; porous tublar filaments; can extend from the naris in a searching fashion; they both taste and smell; alert to emotions of other species; Verdants may or may not have remnants; nodes in nasal pharynx tissue may be all that remain in Vertants. toning- saying; using a series of sounds other than speech |
By barkingdog
Dear Reader: This is listed as Sci-Fi Horror, actually it is Fantasy-Adventure-Horror, but there is no category for it on FanStory. I do not intend to offend anyone, but language and behaviors used are essential to the characters' and storyline contrasts. Scenes are meant to arouse a range of emotions. I hope that they do. :) barking dog
Previously: Hunter and Asmel, two humans, are stalking Gima and are only a day away from Apple Valley.
Gima and Trell, two Vertants, rest with their infants, Zee and Blathen in the Valley meadow. Blathen is a Vermel, and Zee looks human like his parents who are Verdant. Trell remembers his past.
Chapter 8:
Trell has much to decide, and in so doing, his mind goes back to earlier years spent in Bellow City. These are the times that led to his choosing to explore the Forbidden Zone and come to Upper Earth.
******
Jacknel's Arena, only two blocks away from the Platform 31 exit, is centrally located in Bellow City. It's known for presenting extraordinary attractions and performances in a perverse and cruel manner. Jacknel paces impatiently, as he waits for Trum in the storage area behind the arena. Late as usual, Trum hurries down the alley, and energetically bursts through the gate. He can't believe what he sees standing shackled in front of Jacknel.
"Jacknel, you crazy son of a bitch, where'd you find him? A human!"
"Ah, but he's not." Jacknel motions for the young, boy Trell to open his mouth. Trum inspects Trell's throat and nods.
"Vertant!"
"Trum, meet the Arena's newest attraction." Jacknel boots a bewildered Trell, thrusting him face down into the pig swill under the plank walkway.
"I want you to train him, Trum, like your brother Ticum trained 'Man'.
"But, Jacknel, he's Vertant.
"So ...?"
"That's a punishable offense...to keep a Vertant, unless used for blood games or prostitution."
Jacknel shrugs his shoulders.
"And licensing? What about licensing?"
"Look at him Trum ... you didn't even know until you saw his dormant collector nodes. I'll make it worth your while ... let's say 100 bruicks a day and have him ready in a week."
"200 a day and two weeks ..."
"150 a day and ten days."
"Deal?"
"Deal."
Trum is just as ruthless as his brother. Session after long, painful session, he whips the innocent Trell, demanding that he mimic human behavior, at least the preconceived Vermel notion of it. He trains him -- just as Hunter had been trained -- to perform for the throngs of spectators who seek the strange and unusual. A human is both. And Trum knows the ways of man, having assisted with Hunter.
Sold by his family to Jacknel, Trell, only 15 years old, lives in a cramped cage in the animal holding area behind the arena. He is never bathed, his hair and sparce beard grow longer, and he grows thinner. Hungry pigs patrol and often sit, grunting at him, probably thinking he would be a better meal than Jacknel's slop of nightly concession snacks, usually smoked or pickled pig parts and Fiztle. Attempted escape is a death sentence.
Two weeks have passed, and it's opening night. Jacknel has hired 'callers' to walk the city. "New Man -- Better than the First -- Jacknel's Arena -- Tonight." The ticket counter is swamped, and the spectators jostle for seats.
"Move it, I was here first!"
"I don't think so ..."
A fight erupts between two Vermel females, both dressed in their best links and scraps which barely cover strategic areas. The loud, dark-haired one is slightly heavier than the other. Flat feet planted, they begin to claw, each aiming for the other's off-center eye. Hairy arms and legs flail, and their screeching insults continue when two aisle patrols pull them apart and push them out an exit.
The seats are filled, the doors close and the show begins. Jacknel, dark beard in braids, sporting tails and a top hat, takes the stage. He stands tilting slightly to the left. Scanning the crowd with his dark-brown eye and with a broad show of yellow-pointed teeth, he takes several bows to acknowledge their boisterous welcome. When he reaches for the large multi-color megaphone, they quiet. Holding it high, he begins his eloquent toning.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, Vermel of all ages, feast your eyes, hear your fill, and breathe in the essence. Tonight Jacknel's Arena Circus brings you 'The Humiliation of Man'. The one, the only, the most amazing and most arousing experience of a lifetime. With his trainer, Trum, I am proud to present, the one most repulsive in behavior, the one most grating in sound and the one most rank in smell; the one, the only living human in captivity ... Maaannn Twooooooo.
A fanfare of drum rolls begins and is joined by a small, rather peculiar, assortment of horn players.The audience sways, howls and claps in anticipation.Trum, who is dressed in colorful purple and orange striped, ballooning pantaloons and a solid-orange shirt with gathered sleeves and large, shiny purple buttons, pulls Trell up onto the stage with a thick rope lead, attached to a choke chain.
Still grimy with filth and wearing only a small groin cloth, Trell grabs hold of the choke-collar, allowing him to catch a breath. Though weak from starvation, he manages to saunter on stage, playing his part as a human. As he stands there tall and comparatively hairless, the short slim, weasely Trum skitters about presenting an arm, hand - five fingers; a leg, a foot - five toes; a head -straight hair; a face - two eyes, a nose and a symmetrical mouth with single rows of blunt, white teeth.
The audience, chomping on snacks and gulping thick, alcoholic brew, applaud each revelation and hecklers thwortle, "Freak, freak, freak."
Jacknel watches. We've got them in our pocket. They have no idea!
Snapping his whip, Trum jerks the rope to exert and flaunt his dominance. Trell drops to his knees, and the second phase of the 'Humiliation of Man' performance begins. The master's whip sings 'dance' and Trell dances. It snaps again, and he skips and rolls; and again for a head stand; twice for a back flip. Trum expertly flourishes a bow after each of Trell's tricks.
Jacknel plans. Cartooms of critons ... I'll add a matinee!
Trell howls an octave of notes in perfect baritone, and the audience goes wild. Though he doesn't speak, he can vocalize tones with lesser but adequate vocal cords. As bullets fly at his feet, he quickly jumps straight up or side steps. On this last move he causes his rope lead to twist around Trum's arm, and a bullet to deflects into the crowd, taking out a pig-treat vendor.The crowd scrambles for the snacks. The vendor, just another unfortunate mess, is removed; another takes over his sales, and the show continues.
Trell's mouth twitches at the corners. Gotcha! One down ... a billion to go!Trum's whip demands attention.
All is well, the crowd, most of them drunk on Fitzel, believes this pretender is human because they want to believe. They cheer, stomp their feet, and clap. After working up quite an appetite and thirst, they buy pig-on-a-stick snouts, ears and tongues and guzzle, guzzle, guzzle Fitzel. This is great for business.
Jacknel stands beside the stage, planning how to spend the take when things begin to turn. The crowd mumbles suspicions.
"He moves too swiftly. 'Man' was slow.'
"Yes, the bullets hit 'Man's' feet."
"His toes ... splat." A warty spectator claps his hands.
"Blood! I got my money's worth, back then."
"This 'New Man' is ... well he's ..."
After a few more flips and another mock verbalization of vowels, the blue strobes flash throughout the arena, signaling the grand finale. Trell removes his loin cloth; the audience silences at his deformity.They all lean forward in their seats; the arena is too distant for the majority to see, so the first few rows relay information.
"There's only one ... "
" ... as it should be."
"It IS marvelously withered and its pouch withdrawn." A thin, jovial fellow in the front signs.
"Can you see it?" One in the back complains.
" No, can you?"
"I bet you can see this." A big brute stands displaying himself.
"Oh, baby." A gorgeous redhead with a green-eye and high forehead reaches for what she sees.
The finale has done its job. It has aroused the crowd. The males are dually erect. The females ache to make use of the moment. They could care less about the rest of the finale, as they plan one of their own. Many leave to find an alley's corner or rush to the Chambers at Club ErrOw just up the street. The big brute and the red-head make a right turn into the club.
Trell is paraded for all to see."Show yourself," Trum bellows, flourishing gestures as Trell walks around the stage, shivering.
"Now ... Squat. Show Man's submission."
Trell squats over a hole at the front of the stage. It is believed that this is what a lesser species, human male would do -- squat like a female. His stream runs from the stage into a trough, through the center of the crowd. A milling around is heard, and in a matter of seconds, someone yells,
"Vertant."
"That's not human ..."
It smells like my brother's Vertant kid, Picar!
"And his feet are fleet."
"Humans are slow of foot!"
"And of wit!" Laughter and agreement are followed by allegations.
"Fraud!"
"I want my 60 centums back."
"And me, my bruicks."
Anger terminates the mood of arousal. Males seethe at being cheated, and females, watching their males' erections recede, are livid.
Trum jerks Trell's lead and rushes off the stage.
"Get in there." He pushes Trell, naked, skin turning blue from the cold, into a holding crate behind Jacket's office desk.
"Jacknel, we're in big trouble." Jacknel is already at the safe tossing bundles of critons and bruicks into a large pig-leather bag.
"Let's go." He fastens the bag's large, brass buckles.
It's too late. Enforcers, always stationed just outside the arena during a performance, had reported the situation to headquarters, and in a matter of minutes, Captain Rolak had ordered Jacknel and Trum arrest.
"March, you two," thwortles an enforcement officer, as he prods Jacknel and Trum forward onto a trolley that heads up track to Enforcement Headquarters. Jacknel's money bag disappears.
Disposal Unit 501 is ordered to confiscate the unlicensed Vertant, telling them to find a place for him or 'acid pit his ass.'
“He’s good enough for Sadie’s House,” Disposal Officer 50 decides.
“Yeah,” DO-45 thwortles. “Sadie can use what’s left.”
“Big ole gal! She likes the tall … open, your eyes, Vertant,” DO-50 snarls holding Trell’s head up with a tight clawed grip. “and blue eyed ones like this freak.’
“ Move it.”
| Author Notes |
Vocabulary:
Vertant-the off-spring of two Vermel; looks human. Vermel-mutated humans who live in Under Earth; communicate via sign language and various sounds; noted by their single, particulate-collector naris; one eye; dark or red, coarse body hair; flat or twisted feet with three to six long toes; three fingered hands with long curving claw-like nails; pointed teeth in irregular, double rows; intelligent, but with strong base instincts. Particulate collector - a Vermel adaptation to living in a polluted underground; mutatio ; porous tublar filaments; can extend from the naris in a searching fashion; they both taste and smell; alert to emotions of other species; Verdants may or may not have remnants, nodes in nasal pharynx tissue may be all that remain Cartooms of - a lot; a shit load of. Critons- money of varying large denominations Bruicks- dollars; less in value than a criton Centabs- coins Fitzel- an alcoholic beverage Elixir- includes euphoric-blue, calming-green. Smoking- usually a mix of madine and sedderthal LOCATIONS: Under Earth- a civilization that exists totally under ground; Vermel territory. Bellow City- located in Under Earth. Jacknel's Arena- where Hunter and Trell were trained as 'Man' and 'Man #2'. Club ErrOw- a dance club downstairs; Chambers for coupling are upstairs. Sadie's- a night spot where Verdant males are displayed for Vermel viewing and pleasure CHARACTERS: Gima-a Vertant;rescued and raised by Hunter and Asmel Trell- a Vertant; raised by Vermel, escaped to Upper Earth; has not yet learned to speak but has learned to understand it from Gima, his mate. Blathen- Gima and Trell's Vermel son; single, particulate-collector naris, one eye; on the heiarchy of Vermel his appearance labels him a Prime-One. Zee-Gima's second son who looks human Hunter-once a business man in the city; was captured and tortured by Vermel in Bellow City; 'Papa' to Gima; suffers from PTSD. Asmal- a survivalist; built a cabin in the mountains; rescued Hunter; raised Gima with Hunter; 'Papa-Azzy' to Gima Ticum-Vermel;Jacknel's Circus trainer; beat,and tortured Hunter; deceased Trum- Vermel; Ticum's brother; Trell's trainer at Jacknel's Arena Vermel speech/sounds: twortle-a sound pattern distinctive to the Vermel; a combination of glottal stops, tongue click-clucks and snorts; an assertive pattern. chortle- throaty sounds varying in tonal inflection and duration; normal speech; he chortles = he says toning- saying; using a series of sounds other than speech thrumping songs-songs Trell learned growing up in Bellow City, Under Earth; melodic, throaty, glottal. |
By barkingdog
Dear Reader: This is listed as Sci-Fi Horror, actually it is Fantasy-Adventure-Horror, but there is no category for it on FanStory. I do not intend to offend anyone, but language and behaviors used are essential to the characters' and storyline contrasts. Scenes are meant to arouse a range of emotions. I hope that they do. :) barking dog
Previously: Hunter and Asmel, two humans, are stalking Gima and are only a day away from Apple Valley.
Gima and Trell, rest with their infants, Zee and Blathen in the Valley meadow. Blathen is a Vermel, and Zee looks human like his parents who are Verdant.Trell has much to decide, and in so doing, his mind goes back to earlier years spent in Bellow City, Under Earth. These are the times that led to his choosing to explore the Forbidden Zone and come to Upper Earth.
Chapter 8: Jacknel and Trum promoted a Vertant,Trell, as a Human for an Arena show, 'Humiliation of Man.' Rolak's Enforcers have arrested them.Two Disposal Officers have Trell. They decide a direction for Trell which allows him to live.
Chapter 9
“March, you two,” an enforcement officer prods Jacknel and Trum onto a trolley which will take them up-track to the Platform 33 exit and Enforcement Headquarters. Jacknel’s full money bag goes missing. It seems that this sort of thing happens quite frequently under Captain Rolak's command.
Disposal Unit 501 is ordered to confiscate the unlicensed Vertant, Trell, and to ‘acid pit his ass' because Trolious, Head of Ministerial Affairs, reported him several weeks ago as a dissident. Under Earth is finding this faction of Vertant rebels to be of increasing concern but Trell is not a member and has never had any contact with them. The report was a vendetta not a fact. Nevertheless, he is labled a bandit, scoundrel, a traitor.
Luck has it that the two officers in charge prefer to make under-the-counter deals -- a little profit on the side -- with various 'upstanding' businesses such as Jacknel's Arena, Club Err Ow, various sperm bank agencies and Sadie's, at the top of their list.
“He’s good enough for 'Sadie’s Palace'.”
“Yeah.” Disposal Officer 45 adjusts his dual members, causing his crab-lice to scurry. “She can use what’s left of him.” Snorting, he sprays drool, laughing at his own cleverness.
“Shrewd ole gal! She likes the tall … open, your eyes, Vertant ...” He raises Trell's chin with a firm clawed grip. “... blue eyed ones like this freak."
DO-45 and DO-50 push something resembling an old baggage cart that’s been painted with red and white stripes, indicating enforcement business. On it is a lump, covered with a disgusting, crusty tarp.
Disposal Officer 50 blasts an air horn, as they approach the angry crowd that exits Jacknel’s Arena. The disgruntled audience members move aside to let the cart pass while they continue to grumble about being cheated.
“Trum should be given 50 lashes with his own whip.”
“Jacknel should be bloody well castrated."
The crowd continues to move down the street, slowing down the cart's progress. The air horn blows again, and the Vermel banter on, visualizing a castrated Jacknel.
“And ... and display him at Sadie’s!” A big round of snorting guffaws follows.
“I’d pay to see that.”
“So would I."
"Top owner of freaks … a freak himself.”
“His dangles would auction for a high price.”
“Ah, for the profit, he’d probably cut them off himself.” Another rise of roaring bellows, and they turn into Jacknel's Club Err Ow.
Trell, hog tied underneath the tarp, struggles to steady himself and moans with each harsh jar of the cart.
“Hey, Osifer-45.” Two neutered Vermel, one rather paunchy with blotchy brown and yellow pigment, and the other youthfully wide-eyed stagger arm-in-arm up to the disposal officers.Their toning rhythms are irregular.
“Jacknel’s a liar and a cheat,” the older of the pair’s hands slur his thoughts.
“Yeah, the creep tried to pawn off a Vertant.” The other's belching chortles stink of Fitzel.
"Said it was human." Arnst puts his arm around Rom's youthful shoulder to steady himself.
"I knew, the minute I saw it, that it was Vertant."
Arnst shakes his head 'no'.
"I did. Yes, I did so know!" Rom hugs Arnst.
Arnst nods his head 'yes', stroking Rom's pert, adolescent hump.
“Really?” DO-45 signs in reply, giving DO-50 a poke in the ribs and pops a rubber arnag-flavored chew in his mouth.
“Got a delivery?” The elder sot waddles closer to the cart, reaching for the tarp.
“Yes!" DO-50 moves in front, blocking acccess. "Now, move on, Mr. Arnst.”
“What’s under there?” blirts Rom.
“It’s for Sadie’s. You want to see? You gotta pay her!”
DO-5O flashes his partner an 'if looks could kill' scowl.
“You’ve got Jacknel’s Vermel!”
“Sorry, Mr. A.," And DO-50 stuns guns Arnst who jolts to the ground. I told you to move on … fucking nosey caznu.
He pushes the inquisitive Mr. A's quivering deformities to the side and orders his befuddled companion, “Take him home.”
Rom witnesses his lover's yelps of pain and bows his head in sudden, sober compliance. "Yes, sir. Officer, sir. Right away, sir." He stoops to comfort his moaning friend, whose eye twitches and hands flap, speechlessly.
They move on past several dimly lit alley ways and murky corners, busy with coupling pairs, as they near Sadie’s. The squeaky cart is beating Trell black and blue, as it bumps along the irregular, broken brick walkway.
“Here we are,” grunts DO-50, sweat dripping from his bald but mole-covered head. He knocks at the barred, steel back door; a peek-hole slowly slides open.
“Officers, deliveries, around the side.” a light, female voice chortles.
A buzzer sounds, and the bent, rusty gate swings open. They push the cart up to the security door, lit by a small flickering light. DO-45 reaches up to adjust the gas flow which steadies the flame. They open the door, and drag Trell inside to a small room lined with scratched black, faux-marble countertops and sliding, glass-door cabinets. It smells of a mixture of stored fungi, oils, and heavy musk incense which smokes on an artful tray, crafted out of antique aluminium.
They remove his bindings and have Trell standing, a bit wobbly but standing all the same, just as Sadie, looking like a crazy-quilt parade-float, bounces in. Her red lips are three layers thick with lip rogue; her false eye-lash is flirty. A garment of puzzle pieces trails behind her still limber frame, and silver-green metal flowers crown her peculiar, sparse patches of white hair.
With a broad, double-row grin and red-clawed, hands on hips, she coos, “Hey there, boys.”
She's still workin' it. DO-45 scratches again and recalls earlier days.
“Sadie, we have a Special, just for you, today.” DO-45 signs as his mind wanders, and his dangles begin to lift.
"Kind of sudden ... unexpected ... eh, fellas?" She notices his rising compliment but also notices Trell -- young, blonde Trell.
"Yeah, yeah, but we'll give you a good deal, Sadie."
"Vertant, stand up." DO-50 takes charge. "Open your mouth."
Sadie skeptically pokes and prods Trell, touching his bruises and wounds. “He’s nearly dead! Starved, beaten, dehydrated!”
The officers look at the worn floor, the cluttered counter top, and back at the worn floor, anything but Sadie.
Her highly sensitive particulate-collectors extend and search over every inch of Trell's youthful frame. "Lift. Turn. Bend. Open." Ready to collapse, he complies.
She doesn't look pleased. DO-45 's rubber chew has lost its flavor. His erections have lost interest.
With the knowledge of a connoisseur, she cups the weight of Trell's genitals in her warm palm. “Don’t even know if this single monstrosity works.” She releases Trell's responsive particulars and turns her back. There's still life in this one. I'll get him for nothing. She turns back around and puts her hands on the counter, leans forward with a glare and spits on a nearby candle. It sputters out.
“Sorry, Sadie.” DO-50 signs in haste, pushing Trell toward the exit, glaring at his partner, he thwortles, "Let's go!"
DO-45, sure that the sale is lost, shrugs and thworps, “We’re off then to drop him into an acid unit, if you have no use for him.”
Trell, shaking, 'fuck me …acid unit’, looks directly at Sadie with his crystal-blue eyes, and then, kneeling, lowers them, submissively, as if she is a queen.
“OK, OK! Stop! Mind you, I’ll have to invest at least 100 bruicks into him. He needs to service my clients. If he’s a waste of money, you owe me one."
“We usually GET … 100 bruicks, Sadie.”
“He’s not even worth one! I’ll take him off your hands for 50 centabs, and you two keep the 25 bruick disposal fee.”
“We can’t license him for that.” Sadie rolls her orange-speckled black eye.
“He’ll be illegal …” DO-50 warns. She hands him the 50 centabs.
“… not your legal property … prison, Sadie …” DO-45 reminds her. Sadie pushes them out the door.
The officers hurry toward the gate pushing the cart when DO-50 growls, turns and stun guns DO-45 to the ground. "Penard, your dangles, Horacio!"
With DO-45 flopping near the cart, DO-50 counts the money and heads for Club Err Ow. Euphoric-blue ... hot Vertant in a Chamber ... I've just enough.
Rubbing her hands together, licking her lips to a pout, Sadie turns to Trell.
“Let’s have a better look at you." Not bad, not bad at all.
She tastes Trell’s tears, feels his sadness and laughs. Such a find, a treasure.
She pulls a beaded macrame cord. Picar and Jami, two of her other Vertant ‘boys’ saronged and turbaned, ready to entertain clients for the evening, respond, “Yes, Ma'am,” they chortle and bow, hands folded in front of them.
Trell, still naked, has crouched down with his eyes closed. “You, up! No sleeping here. Picar … Jami, come. You know what to do.”
The two handsome, eighteen to twenty-something, Vertants lift Trell. They quickly bathe and shave him, dress his wounds, and put a thigh length poncho over his head. He is fed a few left-over morsels, given a shabby, gray blanket and taken to a mat in the dormitory. A small cracked window lets in a bit of light from the backdoor’s, once-again flickering, lamp.
Upper Earth has begun to freeze, and the Subby tunnels blow cold. The window’s leak chills the dormitory’s dank air. Trell, thankful for the thin blanket, cocoons his entire shivering body into it. What place is this? Oh, gods of my father's, fathers ... He sleeps through the pain.
Three days later, Trell is stronger and alert. His bruises have faded to light brown, and though the lashing wounds still heal, Sadie judges him ready. However, he has a hanging problem.
“Fuck this human gene pool!” Sadie probes his limp member with a long clawed finger. “Trell, you must make this work!” His human emotions interfere with performance … useless … shriveled like a dead pig’s … and only one. Inferior in everyway to Vermel.
“Picar instruct Trell.” Picar's brown eyes smile, as he rubs his hands with salve and walks toward Trell who knowingly covers himself. Trell’s uncle Arnst would ask him to do this when Trell was quite small. But somehow it is different with Picar who now rubs slowly, gently, patiently and asks nothing in return. Picar is never unfaithful to his Jami, except for having to prostituting himself, nightly, at 'Sadie’s Palace', for his own survival.
Picar attends to his task and advises, “Many are attracted to the strange, the perverse and so you must stay erect, and let them wonder at your singular deformity. See, you are a solid wonder!” You have surprised even me, whom you surpass in all dimensions. "To not remain erect for the desired time, often ends badly for us."
Picar stops before Trell’s release and turns to nod at the painting on the wall whose eye watches. Ejaculation outside of the booth or brothel area, if discovered, meant death. Ejaculations belong to Sadie, to be used or sold as she chooses.
Sadie watches and is pleased, so pleased that she calls another fair-haired Vertant, Jami, to service her before the night's guests arrive.
As Jami does his best, Sadie delays her climax, relishing each and every little thing that she's taught him. She thinks about how proud she is of her establishment, and remembers a priceless relic that she found as a young Vermel.
When small, she used to wander the tunnels and dig for treasure. Jami, yes. She’d often find buttons, glass, cans but rarely anything of paper. One day she found a metal box with a handle and snap openers. Easy, like I taught you. She had to pound on them to get into it. There, there… slow, yes and she still remembers the sweetness in the strange air, just one intoxicating whiff, Faster ... harder ... there, Jami ... there that rose when the case opened to suck in Under Earth’s hazy pollution. I gasp, turn blue, it nears. This strange air brought no memories, but is stored to be recalled. Oh, god, Oh gods of my fathers … Oh, Jami … Jami, how can one such as you bring me to this … In that box she found a paper relic with gold borders which had many pages of visuals. She spent hours staring at those pages. Just a little longer... Her collectors reach for and swell at the taste of Jami's devoted sweat and tears that think of Picar. Oh, if I could love it would be you! This is as close as she would ever come to knowing what love is, and it only lasts a moment. A brief moment. Oh ...Oh ... Oh!. And then it fades.
"Jami, that will do. You're dismissed. Prepare for tonight's guests."
Sadie had carefully transformed those pages into 'Sadie’s Palace' -- her 'House of Fantasy'. She recalls one of her previous ‘boys’, an artist, who had made all of the paintings, the crowns for the booths and had sculpted the 'Cobra of Life', her pride and joy, out of wire, various metals, discarded cans and glass. It is displayed just inside the front entryway.
Jason brought her paper relic to life. He had lived in the dormitory where Jami and the others do now, for as long as he was useful. Then she sold him to Jacknel for Warrior Games.
| Author Notes |
Under Earth Species: Vertant-the off-spring of two Vermel; looks human. Vermel-mutated humans who live in Under Earth; communicate via sign language and various sounds; noted by their single, particulate-collector naris; one eye; dark or red, coarse body hair; flat or twisted feet with three to six long toes; three fingered hands with long curving claw-like nails; pointed teeth in irregular, double rows; intelligent, but with strong base instincts. Particulate collector - a Vermel adaptation to living in a polluted underground; mutation ; porous tubular filaments; can extend from the naris in a searching fashion; they both taste and smell; alert to emotions of other species; Verdants may or may not have remnants, nodes in nasal pharynx tissue(back of throat). dissident-rebel, nonconformist, protester; somebody who publicly disagrees with an established political or religious system or organization. DRINKS & SMOKING Elixirs: Euphoirc-Blue - arouses passion without arousing anger or fear Green - calms aggression and base tendencies to mutilate, kill, cannibalize Caramel-clarity(female enhancement) Ruby-rigidity (male enhancement) Fitzel- a carbonated alcoholic beverage; a light intoxication; makes one funny, silly, uninhibited, kind Smoking- usually a mix of madine and sedderthal Hallucinogenic fungi grown in Bellow City Fazil- a smoking or chewing compound that stains the teeth Arnag-a fungus grown as food; a favorite rubber-chew flavor LOCATIONS: Under Earth- a civilization that exists totally under ground; Vermel territory. Bellow City- located in Under Earth. Jacknel's Arena- where Hunter and Trell were trained and exploited as 'Man' and 'Man #2'. Club ErrOw- a dance club downstairs; Chambers for coupling are upstairs. Sadie's Palace - a night spot where Vertant males are displayed for Vermel viewing and pleasure CHARACTERS: Gima-a Vertant; rescued and raised by Hunter and Asmel Trell- a Vertant; raised by Vermel, escaped to Upper Earth; has not yet learned to speak but has learned to understand it from Gima, his mate. Blathen- Gima and Trell's Vermel son; single, particulate-collector naris, one eye; on the hierarchy of Vermel his appearance labels him a Prime-One. Zee-Gima's second son who looks human Hunter- Nigel once a business man in the city; was captured and tortured by Ticum to become 'Man' in Jacknel's Arena in Bellow City; 'Papa' to Gima; suffers from PTSD. Asmal- a survivalist; built a cabin in the mountains; rescued Hunter; raised Gima with Hunter; 'Papa-Azzy' to Gima Ticum-Vermel;Jacknel's Circus trainer; beat and tortured Hunter; deceased Trum- Vermel; Ticum's brother; Trell's trainer at Jacknel's Arena Sadie- runs a display and pleasure house featuring male Vertants. Milim - Sadie's assistant a Vermel Picar-Vertant at Sadie's Jamie-Picar's Vertant lover; Sadie's favorite. Mr. Arnst- Trell's abusive uncle; now a caznu Rom- Arnst's younger companion, lover Disposal Officer- Designated by numbers e.g. DO-45, DO-50; executioners; but they sell their prisoners, usually Vertants, on the black-market to various shady characters like Jacknel and Sadie for use in sport, entertainment, pleasure and artificial insemination collection and sales. Trolious- Head of Ministerial Affairs Rolak- Chief Enforcement Officer Vermel speech/sounds: twortle-a sound pattern distinctive to the Vermel; a combination of glottal stops, tongue click-clucks and snorts; an assertive pattern. chortle- throaty sounds varying in tonal inflection and duration; normal speech; he chortles=he says. toning- saying; using a series of sounds other than speech thrumping songs-songs Trell learned growing up in Bellow City, Under Earth; melodic, throaty, glottal. thworp- a submissive sometimes whining tone Vocabulary: particulate collector - a Vermel adaptation, mutation; porous tubular filaments; can extend from the naris in a searching fashion; they both taste and smell; alert to emotions of other species; Vertants may or may not have remnants; nodes in nasal pharynx tissue may be all that remain in Vertant. Arnag-a fungus grown as food; a favorite rubber-chew flavor Caznu-neutered male Vermel; usually gay and neutered by choice for the good of the gene pool by decree of Trolious ; castration is a common punishment regardless of sexual orientation. And-End - Amen Pernard- a Vermel curse Dangle- a Vermel male penis; they have two dangles. Events: Warrior Games - Under Earth competitions to the death; all are eligible, male, female, Vertant or Vermel; The odds are stacked in favor of the Vermel. |
By barkingdog
Dear Reader: 'Gima' has been listed as Sci-Fi Horror, actually it is Fantasy-Adventure-Horror, but there is no category for it on FanStory. This chapter is more Fantasy Fiction, I think. LOL I do not intend to offend anyone, but language and behaviors used are essential to the characters' and storyline contrasts. Scenes are meant to arouse a range of emotions. I hope that they do. The author's notes are avaible for those who need them but are not essential to understanding the chapters. :) barking dog
Previously: Hunter and Asmel, two humans, are stalking Gima and are only a day away from Apple Valley.
Gima and Trell, rest with their infants, Zee and Blathen in the Valley meadow. Blathen is a Vermel, and Zee looks human like his parents who are Vertant.Trell has much to decide. He falls asleep and his mind goes back to ten years ago when he was in Bellow City.
Chapter 9:
Trell was brought from Ticum's Arena to Sadie's House of Fantasy and Pleasure. He has been recovering from wounds received at the Arena. Tonight he's ready to be displayed and offered to the those who can afford him. He is an innocent, 15 year-old Vertant being offered to Vermel.
Chapter 10:
Trell, his body slick with mold-blossom oil, stands naked on the cold, pink-marble floor of the Great Room which is lined with octagonal glass chambers. He listens to Sadie's final instructions.
"You are to do as the viewers request, but ejaculations must be approved by me. Do you understand?"
Submissively, he lowers his head and silently signs, "Yes."
"Jami and Picar have taught you how to move, how to dance?" She unlocks and opens a chamber, Booth #11.
"Yes."
Her hand strokes him. Her eye follows the turn of his thighs and all that lies between. Tested and inspected, prime-cut ready for display, Sadie shoves Trell into Booth #11 and slams the door.
A greedy smile salivates while she hums a rhythmic pattern, praising critons and bruicks. She drops the metal-tagged key #11 into her pocket and it jingles with the others as she waddles past the many occupied booths on her way to the atrium.
The Vertants on display are all younger than twenty. Trell is only fifteen. When the bell rings they will all dance slowly, suggestively for the arriving customers.
Trell's first degrading night begins. He sees Jami in the booth to his left and Picar in one to his right. Both dripping with oil and frightened, work up their presentations. Dire consequences await the ones who fail to please.
Colored lights rotate. Twenty glossy, young bodies and smooth stone, metal and glass reflect flashes of red, green and blue. Three smooth-skinned boys, their brown hair pulled back and streaked with blue and yellow wear vary-colored, aluminum, laurel-leaf crowns. Each sits on a pig's-head stool and pounds Vertant femur bones rhythmically on large, stretched pigskin drums. Percussive beats echo from the walls into branching hallways and up to the high ceiling.
The plastic enclosures' warm floors belie a constant chill which travels the centuries-old, pink marble that whispers memories of those who were here before. Trell, Picar, Jami, all the boys, are terrified not knowing what the night will bring; not knowing who might end up being sent to disposal.
'Sadie's opens at midnight. The upper crust of Bellow City's perverse Vermel society arrives after late suppers at posh hotels and restaurants on Center Rail Drive. They need a ticket to enter and tickets aren't cheap. Sadie's Regal Chit Members and pre-purchased ticket holders enter first, passing those less-fortunate, ordinary sorts who scramble for admission outside. Scalpers, near the entrance, are doing quite well, tonight.
Nearly everyone's paying the outrageous prices to see the new 'boy' with singular, yet excessive male proportions, the light one with Upper Earth's fabled, sky-eyes. Some are unable to afford it. "But you promised," whimpers a slim Vermel in red, alum sequins who brushes on another layer of greenish-blue lipstick using an alum mirror that reflects her dark, angry eye.
The line is forming quickly and the patrons are impatient.
"I hear he's absolutely fabulous." Mr. Arnst anxiously waves his ticket and is second in line at the frosted-glass and brass entrance.
Others nod agreement.
"He's new."
"... fresh."
"... virgin."
"I want him." A mole-oozing, burly fellow waves his Regal Chit and broadens his stance at the head of the line.
"I shall have him!" Mr. Arnst harrumphs drooling through fazil-tarnished sharpness and brandishing his silver-knobbed cane.
"Yeooww," howls the stronger, young patron, unwilling to relinquish his spot in line to the elder Mr. Arnst.
Just as a fight is about to break out, a colorful blur moves toward the frosted glass and with a gold key opens the double-wide doors to 'Sadie's House of Fantasy.'
"Gentlemen, ladies ... Welcome!"
"Sadie!" the crowd chorts warmly.
"You're lookin' mighty fine tonight." A fat, warty fellow drags past. "Bar open?"
The doors close, and the key is turned. The eager night-life shuffles into the ancient atrium whose once famous Alitian sky-light welcomed sunlight and the variations of the moon and stars to Central City Station's food court. The glass ceiling, gone long ago, is now metal; huge sheets of steel welded solid, secure Bellow City from Upper Earth. The curious, giddy entourage oozes itself into and fills the atrium.
Sadie moves elegantly through the crowd. She wears a flowing white caftan with smears of underworld colors - copper-green and mold-gray. Her white-hair is scattered with silver alum lilies and a single, hand-crafted, copper butterfly perches above her partial right ear. Her new wart accenting make-up is impeccable, highlighting her natural bluish grayness. For her years, she is alluring with a green-sequined, pig -bristle eye-lash blinking over her clever, purple-black eye.
"Follow, this way ... Follow me." She motions to the crowd. "A little fright to start off the night, my friends? We have a mighty fantasy, a life size replica. The form of a dreaded beast from above. Behold the amazing, life-size 'Cobra.' "
The reflective, ten-foot tall, silver and green alum, sculpture seems to assume its poised stance, just for her. Each evening when she announces his name, somewhere, deep inside her twisted mind, Sadie believes that he poses for her. If not actually here then somewhere, in mythical, ritualistic preparation, he rises for her. She dreams that he awaits their conjoinment for a mixing of their lethal poisons in a battle of passion and survival. She fantasises a love perfected through hate and pain when their two opposing worlds collide in ecstasy. He is coiled, always ready to strike. Sadie is as well.
A frail Vermel miss, barely thirteen years-old, hobbles into the atrium with an equally young male. The crowd jostles them closer and closer to the cobra. Her big, brown eye bulges as she fearfully clutches and tugs at her date's arm. "Sweet, Jowly-Puss?"
"Yea, Sugar Pot?"
" The 'Cobra' ... it frightens me."
"That thing? I could take it on ... any day ... easy. I'd bite its head right off." He opens his hinged jaw displaying his stained, yet sharp, double rows and growls fiercely.
Sugar Pot glares.
"I'll show ya." He shuffles as fast as possible toward the threatening beast and gives its base a vigorous kick. The sculpture reverberates. Its metal screeches. "Whoa!" He recoils in pain and stumbles backward, stepping on his sweet, Sugar Pot.
"Rock-brain!" she snarls and stoops to tend to a painful, snapped toe-claw.
The 'Cobra' is not finished with Jowly-Puss. It sways from side to side and then begins to shimmy. It screeches as its metal parts grind together creating an internal rise and fall -- a rippling as if one were shuffling a deck of cards. Each of its overlapping scales interacts, one with another. It screeches again.
Jowly-Puss stands urinating into an old, conveniently available, drainage-hole and then flees to the free elixir wall just beyond the atrium for a nip of blue-euphoria.
Sugar Pot finds an older protector.
The youngest Vertant boys, those twelve to fourteen years old, are servers at the elixir wall. They fairly match the atrium's cobra. Their bodies are painted with bright streaks of greens and yellows. They wear scant, suede, loin cloths and silver-green alum crowns balance above their two perfect eyes. They move robotically, silently, eyes down without a smile while they serve blue-euphoria and other sensory-altering beverages. They know that they are being eyed by many and can each be purchased for 100 critons per 20 mitrinets. Sadie's vermel assistants are available in various locations—one
to the right of the elixir wall, another in the atrium—for
payment and key dispersal and return. When one boy is taken to a private room, he is replaced by another.
"Here boy, I need a nip of caramel-clarity. Here boy," a buxom, pig-skin pelted beauty summons with her curled finger-nails that flash a lush, bright, vermel blood-magenta. "And a double ruby-rigidity." She knows that her mate's hump and dangles need enhancement to rise. As she gestures, her diamonds reflect drops of light that jiggle small rainbows onto a decorative mural.
The Mural Wall, inlayed with many fragments of antique glass, is lit from behind. The colors, mostly brown and green with a bit of blue and clear or white glass at the top, form clouds, sky, and hills that encompass a lush green valley of meadow and an oak forest with a simple stream running through it.
"Only a Vertant artist, insane of course, could create such a display." A renowned critic offers his appraisal.
Others chime in:
"He went quite mad in the end you know."
"She had to sell him to Jacknel for the Warrior Games."
"I hear he was sent to the Tubes."
"Such a waste of talent." The critic interjects.
"Shhh. It's treason to speak well of a Vertant. Order some blue, dear." His wife drags him away.
To the Vermel, Upper Earth's beauty is fantasy, a fairy-tale, a story told to children, a story made-up long ago. By law, they must believe the dictates of the State's Ministerial Office which holds that an Upper Earth, such as this, never did and does not exist. The occasional appearance of a human is, well, just the way things are ... a probable mutation, totally harmless; unlikely to happen again, means nothing at all; a thing only the gods and, possibly Trolius, could explain. No one ever dares questions the gods or Trolius. Possibilities are ignored for diversions. This is another night of necessary diversions.
However, Sadie is certain that she knows the truth. The pictures in the paper relic which she shared with Jason are her proof. It took him two years to artistically, pattern this amazing wall portrait from one of its pages and fashion it to perfection with a circle of moving lanterns projecting light from behind to bring it life. And another four to finish the 'Cobra' and train the younger boys in the art of creating alum adornments for the booths and costumes.
Sadie, her spine bent to the left, leans on an armless replica of a mythical human and dreams of such a valley with dancing rainbows. She immerses herself into the soothing mural with its twinkle of golden-glass sunlight and its stream of blinking water.
Someday, someday. One more breath of it ... just one more. She remembers the metal case and its opening burst of earth's, sweet air. It's a pleasure that enters her dreams where she is pursued and ravished by her cobra. She touches the decorative blue and red sheath which is always by her side. Supposedly, it houses a dagger. But no—nothing so sharp but something much more dangerous; it protects the relic, carefully rolled-up, camouflaged safely, inside.
| Author Notes |
I would like to thank jgrace for her 'Chamber of Crystal Lights.'
THE GLOSSARY (not required reading) Under Earth Species: Vertant-the off-spring of two Vermel; looks human. Vermel-mutated humans who live in Under Earth; communicate via sign language and various sounds; noted by their single, particulate-collector naris; one eye; dark or red, coarse body hair; flat or twisted feet with three to six long toes; three fingered hands with long curving claw-like nails; pointed teeth in irregular, double rows; intelligent, but with strong base instincts. Particulate collector - a Vermel adaptation to living in a polluted underground; mutation ; porous tubular filaments; can extend from the naris in a searching fashion; they both taste and smell; alert to emotions of other species; Verdants may or may not have remnants, nodes in nasal pharynx tissue(back of throat). dissident-rebel, nonconformist, protester; somebody who publicly disagrees with an established political or religious system or organization. DRINKS & SMOKING Elixirs: Euphoirc-Blue - arouses passion without arousing anger or fear Green - calms aggression and base tendencies to mutilate, kill, cannibalize Caramel-clarity(female enhancement) Ruby-rigidity (male enhancement) Fitzel- a carbonated alcoholic beverage; a light intoxication; makes one funny, silly, uninhibited, kind Smoking- usually a mix of madine and sedderthal Hallucinogenic fungi grown in Bellow City Fazil- a smoking or chewing compound that stains the teeth Arnag-a fungus grown as food; a favorite rubber-chew flavor LOCATIONS: Under Earth- a civilization that exists totally under ground; Vermel territory. Bellow City- located in Under Earth. Jacknel's Arena- where Hunter and Trell were trained and exploited as 'Man' and 'Man #2'. Club ErrOw- a dance club downstairs; Chambers for coupling are upstairs. Sadie's Palace - a night spot where Vertant males are displayed for Vermel viewing and pleasure Alitian - Sir Alitus was its designer CHARACTERS: Gima-a Vertant; rescued and raised by Hunter and Asmel Trell- a Vertant; raised by Vermel, escaped to Upper Earth; has not yet learned to speak but has learned to understand it from Gima, his mate. Blathen- Gima and Trell's Vermel son; single, particulate-collector naris, one eye; on the hierarchy of Vermel his appearance labels him a Prime-One. Zee-Gima's second son who looks human Hunter- Nigel once a business man in the city; was captured and tortured by Ticum to become 'Man' in Jacknel's Arena in Bellow City; 'Papa' to Gima; suffers from PTSD. Asmal- a survivalist; built a cabin in the mountains; rescued Hunter; raised Gima with Hunter; 'Papa-Azzy' to Gima Ticum-Vermel;Jacknel's Circus trainer; beat and tortured Hunter; deceased Trum- Vermel; Ticum's brother; Trell's trainer at Jacknel's Arena Sadie- runs a display and pleasure house featuring male Vertants. Milim - Sadie's assistant a Vermel Picar-Vertant at Sadie's Jamie-Picar's Vertant lover; Sadie's favorite. Mr. Arnst- Trell's abusive uncle; now a caznu Rom- Arnst's younger companion, lover Disposal Officer- Designated by numbers e.g. DO-45, DO-50; executioners; but they sell their prisoners, usually Vertants, on the black-market to various shady characters like Jacknel and Sadie for use in sport, entertainment, pleasure and artificial insemination collection and sales. Trolious- Head of Ministerial Affairs Rolak- Chief Enforcement Officer Vermel speech/sounds: twortle-a sound pattern distinctive to the Vermel; a combination of glottal stops, tongue click-clucks and snorts; an assertive pattern. chort- throaty sounds varying in tonal inflection and duration; normal speech; he chortles=he says. toning- saying; using a series of sounds other than speech thrumping songs-songs Trell learned growing up in Bellow City, Under Earth; melodic, throaty, glottal. thworp- a submissive sometimes whining tone Vocabulary: particulate collector - a Vermel adaptation, mutation; porous tubular filaments; can extend from the naris in a searching fashion; they both taste and smell; alert to emotions of other species; Vertants may or may not have remnants; nodes in nasal pharynx tissue may be all that remain in Vertant. Arnag-a fungus grown as food; a favorite rubber-chew flavor Caznu-neutered male Vermel; usually gay and neutered by choice for the good of the gene pool by decree of Trolious ; castration is a common punishment regardless of sexual orientation. And-End - Amen Pernard- a Vermel curse Dangle- a Vermel male penis; they have two dangles. Mintrinet - minute alum- short for aluminium; usually recycled cans; a valued metal. mold-blossom - a fungi; small, dark brown and caramel colored flowerettes cluster to form a large crysantehmum-type flower; its heavy, sweet decaying scent is used in perfumed oil. Events: Warrior Games - Under Earth competitions to the death; all are eligible, male, female, Vertant or Vermel; The odds are stacked in favor of the Vermel. |
By barkingdog
Dear Reader: 'Gima' has been listed as Sci-Fi Horror, actually it is Fantasy-Adventure-Horror, but there is no category for it on FanStory. I do not intend to offend anyone, but language and behaviors used are essential to the characters' and storyline contrasts. Scenes are meant to arouse a range of emotions. I hope that they do. The author notes' GLOSSARY is included by request. It's not a required part of the reading. It's merely to assist a new audience. Thank you for reading. :) barking dog
Back Story:
Hunter and Asmel, two humans, are stalking Gima and are only a day away from Apple Valley.
Gima and Trell rest with their infants, Zee and Blathen, in the Valley meadow. Blathen is a Vermel, and Zee looks human like his parents who are Vertant. Trell has much to decide. We go back to ten years ago in Bellow City.
Chapter 9:
Trell was brought from Ticum's Arena to Sadie's 'House of Fantasy and Pleasure' where he recovered from wounds received at the Arena. Tonight he stands displayed in a booth, ready to be offered to Vermel who can afford him. He is an innocent, 15 year-old Vertant. The Hall of Booths opens after the guests go to the Mural Room for the free, elixir bar and to voyuer or participate in the columns.
End of Chapter 10:
( Sadie sits in the Mural Room beside The Columns.)
Sadie, her spine’s curvature to the left, leans on an armless replica of a mythical human and dreams of such a valley with dancing rainbows. She immerses herself into the soothing mural with its twinkle of golden-glass sunlight and its stream of blinking water.
Someday, someday. One more true breath of it … just one more. She remembers the metal case and its opening burst of earth’s sweet air. It’s a pleasure that she repeatedly experiences during her fantasies of copulation with Upper Earth's King -- the cobra. She touches the decorative, blue and red sheath which is always by her side. Supposedly, it houses a dagger. But no—nothing so sharp but something much more dangerous—it protects the relic, carefully rolled-up, camouflaged safely, inside.
CHAPTER 11
"Hey, Sa-sa-sadie, how ya do-do-doing?”
The Assistant of Ministerial Affairs, Mr. Larue, a furry-faced, yellow-skinned fellow, wreaking a rancid-oily scent of arousal, wobbles past her to press his enormous weight against a near-by, well-worn column. He salivates from past memories with Column #16 and begins with his usual foreplay. First, he bites into his forearm to savor his own blood and sweat, then turns his hump to the pleasure column. His eye glazes over when he begins to move slowly against the pillar's vibrating coolness.
Sadie, still daydreaming, pays no attention to him. She’s far off in a land of olive-green, black-eyed slithers. Her particulate collectors are tucked away, deep inside, to enhance sensory memories. Sadie relinquishes to the cobra's touch. In a virtual-world, he moves under her skin. She visualizes and feels what her imagination can piece together for an Upper Earth drama in blue and green. Her knees grow weak.
The buzzing sound, coming from Mr. Larue's nearby experience, interrupts her. Sadie, the mistress of depravity, lowers herself into an ornate, over-stuffed, pig-skin armchair to tally the number of guests depositing at her columns. The guests know them as pleasure columns. To Sadie, they are money-makers.
Mr. Larue, under the influence of ruby-rigidity, continues to rub his rounded upper back from side-to-side and up-and-down on the ridges. After much determined concentration, his hump, finally, firms and rises. With hump arousal maintained, he turns to face the column. He reaches to wrap his arms around the sides of its pulsating warmth and begins multiple ritualistic squats, up-and-down, up-and-down.
As he drags his frontal pouch along Column # 16's carved valleys, his left dangle grows to timidly show itself. Larue vigorously whips it against the column's padded leather sides, simultaneously reaching to turn the pillar's control to Level Two, opening the living-matter ports. His dangle, now alert, senses a familiar direction and enters the closest of several mushy, gray organism compartments.
The port's nubby, cool slime envelopes him. He pulls; it grips. He pushes; it tightens. He's comfortably trapped, tied until culmination. The column continues, automatically sensing his every need.
Level three: The port emits a purple, heated substance while its living membrane undulates around him.
Level four: A nip-line of blue euphoria protrudes. Larue drinks. A pleasant dizziness, an internal spinning, begins, and sensations of previous pleasures at the columns drift over him.
Larue's face contorts. He throws his head back to watch blue and gold, glass constellations flicker in Sadie’s gun-metal sky. He thrusts and growls and thrusts. Pulsating, magenta veins protrude in sallow skin. Green foam peaks on the fur around his mouth and sphincter-like naris. His particulate collectors curve around to hug his engorged hump and wallow in its thick-brown, pungent seepage. He hears only the loud, repetitive thud of his own heart beat, trying to escape his head.
Level five: The organism knows what to do. Larue’s body jerks, quivers and stiffens. His back arches. He lets out a long, mellow howl and, with the last drop of his ejaculate, the column emits an audible, satisfied slurping and halts. The organism ejects him; its ports close. He slumps to the floor, and his naris snaps its collectors safely back inside.
A sudden barrage of red lights flash above column #16. Ten to be exact. It chortles, a loud, general announcement, several times. "Congratulations! You have a fertility score of ten." Heads turn. Vermel applaud. Rarely is there a score of ten.
Larue, still seated, raises his arms and waves to his admirers. He's proud to be among the twenty-five percent of fertile, male Vermel. Little does the audience know that he has no inclination to take a wife.
Sadie’s columns store, and she sells, what Larue has just paid to leave behind – ejaculate. Irate, male Vermel, refusing to admit their own infertility, beat their wives for not bearing live children. Fertile females who can afford domal tubes pay a very high price for the X-10, black-market product. Level-10 Vermel collections have been sparse at the columns. As a result, Sadie has been slipping in a good share of Vertant product and labeling it X-10. The populace has been concerned about the increase in Vertant and bi-sexual births, yet deny that domal tubes even exist, as that would put into question the virility of many proud Vermel fathers.
Larue's flat, left dangle, still dripping organic, purple florescence, slips down against his heavy thigh. He attempts to stand but his weight overwhelms him and he topples to the side, landing on Sadie. He quickly tones a panting apology, “Ah … oh … exc-cu-cu-cus m-m-me,” and scurries to Column # 11, out of Sadie's spewing range.
He looks back toward the day-dreaming Sadie, and since there doesn't appear to be any harm done, he tosses back a nip of ruby-rigidity, places his back against the second column of the evening and begins again.
Your turn, ole buddy. He adjusts his right member. Be patient.
This time, he bites deeper into his forearm, and blood spatters into the water at the base of #11 and is flushed away. Level One begins.
A randy, wide-hipped female, her senses high on caramel-clarity, has been watching and is attracted by Larue's heady, thick scent which is now rubbed with blood and fresh semen. Threads of beaded-drool hang from her lips and chin, and her stud-pierced tongue quivers, as she marvels at his strength of form and endurance.
There are many patrons howling, dropping to the floor or grasping a column tonight, but he's the closest that she’s seen to a Prime- One in quite a while. Most importantly, Larue set off the fertility alarm and Dyrel, her red hair wild, is in her conception cycle.
With a fresh spritz of Attracta Sensation, an imported placental derivative, she saunters over, eager to latch and positive that he will give up a column for what she, a ready breeder, can offer him. Dyrel is determined to have him fill her with young.
She takes a broad stance in front of him and begins to sway. Larue rubs his back against the column. She opens her sleek, black, pig-leather garment to display her swollen, central wobble with its blue veins raised and pulsating. He reaches for her.
The column alerts, heats to its peak and vibrates its largest outward pulsations. Unable to resist, Larue turns to face the column.
Dyrel rubs her swellings against his back in a competitive race against the pleasure column's organic ports. The column, in emergency mode, sends its pre-level blue elixir. Larue takes a long sip, and his second dangle exits its pouch, seeking a similar end as its twin.
With her head between his legs from behind, Dyrel licks his pendulums, hoping to draw his dangle to her pooling, frontal opening. She spreads her slime to mark a path to the point of conception and her particulate collectors continue their instinctive enticing, spitting, stroking, gentle sucking.
Elated when the thumb-sized dangle turns and inches toward her, the breeder prepares to receive what she feels is rightfully hers. Dyrel’s fur-lined welcome swells and presses forward while her slippery particulates surround his curved protuberance, prompting it through any indecisiveness.
Larue is oblivious to reality as he fills with new, multiple sensations. He groans, biting the air, as he holds onto the column whose ports gap open with their filament ridges in taut formation.
Alerted to breeder interference, Column # 11 instigates Confrontation Mode, and alerts its Port 11B, the one nearest to the war zone, to over flow. Red slime pours while it strategically, without mercy, spits attractant.
It's no contest—the spoils of war, Larue's delicate dangle, turn to enter Port 11B, which immediately hums a purr of satisfaction. This sought after X-10 right dangle seems to prefer the steaming, ridged organism in #11's Port B to the fluorescent purple, ooze of # 16 or Dyrel's odiferous breeder slime. It is content.
With her head between his thighs, Dyrel's tongue halts and particulates withdraw.
Larue concentrates, and the red life form moves to its full potential. In his blue-elixir hallucination, the column screams with his multiple, strong strokes. Howl with me. It seems to say. Again, again ... again.
In his fantasy, they exhaust themselves, simultaneously.
Dyrel’s wombs cramp, and other base instincts churn when she sees the, now useless, dangle ejected. Her circular fur-lined hole withers. Her unborn cry for revenge.
Larue leans forward against the pillar's now passive coolness. He knows that #11 is satisfied, because it asks for nothing more. It stands proud to support its great beast and brag of his virility. “Congratulations! You have a fertility score of ten," it announces, flashing, flashing, flashing the second ten-score of the night.
He sucks in more blue and hears Lar, you're so strong ... so virile.
"Congratulations! You have a fertility score of ten."
Rejected and hyped-up on caramel-clarity, Dyrel's face puffs and her mole-hairs rise. Livid, she instinctively bites that part of Larue hanging closest to her. It crunches and oozes through her snaggly, sharp doubles, giving her vengeful satisfaction. She licks it back. Her collectors search for and select shreds of full semen ducts and ram them far into her empty canal with the hope that residual, surviving sperm might find their way to fertilization.
Larue’s blood spurts against the column and runs down to the flushing water. # 11, always prepared for these sorts of things, responds with a sterile rinse followed by a spraying of a blend of mold-blossom oil and velinnium to assist in coagulation. It offers a tube of calming-green, which he refuses, as his anger mounts over the agony.
Larue blocks the sharp pain of castration in order to retaliate with purpose. He reaches a large hand down between his legs to casually deal with the ... Stupid breeder. With his eye closed, he grabs her squat head and twists. Gotcha. As simple as screwing in a lantern wick, he twists and releases.
Dyrel drops to the pink-marble. Her open mouth smiles chewed pendulum fibers and bloody drool while her limp particulate collectors momentarily waver then collapse.
Larue, First Assistant of Ministerial Affairs, steps over the inconvenient body on his way to the Mural Wall's elixir bar.
Ice! Gods of my fathers ... ice ... and a double Green Dagger!
| Author Notes |
Under Earth Species:
Vertant-the off-spring of two Vermel; looks human. Vermel-mutated humans who live in Under Earth; communicate via sign language and various sounds; noted by their single, particulate-collector naris; one eye; dark or red, coarse body hair; flat or twisted feet with three to six long toes; three fingered hands with long curving claw-like nails; pointed teeth in irregular, double rows; intelligent, but with strong base instincts. Particulate collector - a Vermel adaptation to living in a polluted underground; mutation ; porous tubular filaments; can extend from the naris in a searching fashion; they both taste and smell; alert to emotions of other species; Verdants may or may not have remnants, nodes in nasal pharynx tissue(back of throat). dissident-rebel, nonconformist, protester; somebody who publicly disagrees with an established political or religious system or organization. DRINKS & SMOKING Elixirs: Euphoirc-Blue - arouses passion without arousing anger or fear Green - calms aggression and base tendencies to mutilate, kill, cannibalize Caramel-clarity(female enhancement) Ruby-rigidity (male enhancement) Fitzel- a carbonated alcoholic beverage; a light intoxication; makes one funny, silly, uninhibited, kind Smoking- usually a mix of madine and sedderthal Hallucinogenic fungi grown in Bellow City Fazil- a smoking or chewing compound that stains the teeth Arnag-a fungus grown as food; a favorite rubber-chew flavor LOCATIONS: Under Earth- a civilization that exists totally under ground; Vermel territory. Bellow City- located in Under Earth. Jacknel's Arena- where Hunter and Trell were trained and exploited as 'Man' and 'Man #2'. Club ErrOw- a dance club downstairs; Chambers for coupling are upstairs. Sadie's Palace - a night spot where Vertant males are displayed for Vermel viewing and pleasure; masterbation columns are very popular in the Mural Room as is the free elixir bar. Alitian - Sir Alitus was the atrium's designer CHARACTERS: Gima-a Vertant; rescued and raised by Hunter and Asmel Trell- a Vertant; raised by Vermel, escaped to Upper Earth; has not yet learned to speak but has learned to understand it from Gima, his mate. Blathen- Gima and Trell's Vermel son; single, particulate-collector naris, one eye; on the hierarchy of Vermel his appearance labels him a Prime-One. Zee-Gima's second son who looks human Hunter- Nigel once a business man in the city; was captured and tortured by Ticum to become 'Man' in Jacknel's Arena in Bellow City; 'Papa' to Gima; suffers from PTSD. Asmal- a survivalist; built a cabin in the mountains; rescued Hunter; raised Gima with Hunter; 'Papa-Azzy' to Gima Ticum-Vermel;Jacknel's Circus trainer; beat and tortured Hunter; deceased Trum- Vermel; Ticum's brother; Trell's trainer at Jacknel's Arena Sadie- runs a display and pleasure house featuring male Vertants. Milim - Sadie's assistant a Vermel Picar-Vertant at Sadie's Jamie-Picar's Vertant lover; Sadie's favorite. Mr. Arnst- Trell's abusive uncle; now a caznu(neutered) Rom- Arnst's younger companion, lover Disposal Officer- Designated by numbers e.g. DO-45, DO-50; executioners; but they sell their prisoners, usually Vertants, on the black-market to various shady characters like Jacknel and Sadie for use in sport, entertainment, pleasure and artificial insemination collection and sales. Trolious- Head of Ministerial Affairs Larue- Assistant of Ministerial Affairs; canzu Vermel Rolak- Chief Enforcement Officer Vermel speech/sounds: twortle-a sound pattern distinctive to the Vermel; a combination of glottal stops, tongue click-clucks and snorts; an assertive pattern. chortle- throaty sounds varying in tonal inflection and duration; normal speech; he chortles=he says. toning- saying; using a series of sounds other than speech thrumping songs-songs Trell learned growing up in Bellow City, Under Earth; melodic, throaty, glottal. thworp- a submissive sometimes whining tone Vocabulary: particulate collector - a Vermel adaptation, mutation; porous tubular filaments; can extend from the naris in a searching fashion; they both taste and smell; alert to emotions of other species; Vertants may or may not have remnants; nodes in nasal pharynx tissue may be all that remain in Vertant. Arnag-a fungus grown as food; a favorite rubber-chew flavor Caznu-neutered male Vermel; usually gay and neutered by choice for the good of the gene pool by decree of Trolious ; castration is a common punishment regardless of sexual orientation. And-End - Amen Pernard- a Vermel curse vuk- f**k; vuking - f**king Dangle- a Vermel male penis; they have two dangles. Mintrinet - minute alum- short for aluminium; usually recycled cans; a valued metal. mold-blossom - a fungi; small, dark brown and caramel colored flowerettes cluster to form a large crysantehmum-type flower; its heavy, sweet decaying scent is used in perfumed oil. Events: Warrior Games - Under Earth competitions to the death; all are eligible, male, female, Vertant or Vermel; The odds are stacked in favor of the Vermel. |
By barkingdog
Dear Reader: 'Gima' has been listed as Sci-Fi Horror, actually it is Fantasy-Adventure-Horror, but there is no category for it on FanStory. I do not intend to offend anyone, but language and behaviors used are essential to the characters' and storyline contrasts. Scenes are meant to arouse a range of emotions. I hope that they do. The author notes' GLOSSARY is included by request. It's not a required part of the reading. It's merely to assist a new audience. Thank you for reading. :) barking dog
Back Story: Hunter and Asmel, two humans, are stalking Gima and are only a day away from Apple Valley.Gima and Trell rest with their infants, Zee and Blathen, in the Valley meadow. Blathen is a Vermel, and Zee looks human like his parents who are Vertant. Trell has much to decide. We go back ten years to the Vermel's, Under Earth, Bellow City.
Chapters 10 and 11:
Trell was brought from Ticum's Arena to Sadie's 'House of Fantasy and Pleasure' where he recovered from wounds received at the Arena. Tonight he stands displayed in a booth, ready to be offered to Vermel who can afford him. He is an innocent, 15 year-old Vertant. Larue, a Vermel, has left Dyrel for dead after her castrating attack upon him.
Chapter 12:
Larue steps over the inconvenience of her body on his way to the Mural Wall bar.
A round faced, pre-pubescent Vermel, wearing a loin cloth, his hair adorned with silver-green alum leaves and his body streaked with blue paint, bows a greeting. “Can I serve you, sir?" The boy unwittingly sympathizes, seeing Larue's eviscerated pendulum sack.
"Super-sized, ice pack." Larue motions toward his missing masculinity. "A double Green Dagger … and … and ... What's your name, boy?"
“Brackus, sir.”
Larue, envious with a new hunger, watches the boy's lithe, sprite-like form sprint beyond the valley mural and disappear behind its twinkling, glass river facade.
Well trained and as obedient as a small pet, Brackus returns. From a carrying sling, he hands Larue, who is braving-the-moment, a tall beaker containing a concoction of euphoric blue and calming-green. “Your double Green Dagger, sir.” And from his demeanor, unknowingly, he offers a new direction.
Larue sinks deep into the large couch pillows, and his eye drinks in the Vermel’s smooth body as large gulps of the soothing beverage trail down his throat. His thighs bloodied, his shredded pendulum sack empty, he parts his legs, when he notices Brackus' leather pack, spilling its gut sutures.
Brackus kneels. His steady hand rests on the medicinal pouch. “Sir, may I dress your wound?”
Larue nods permission, and spreading his arms wide, he sinks his claws into the padded seat's pelted arms. As his grip tightens, the pig-skin rips. He relishes the pain that propels fire though his groin with every slide of the needle. With his head back and eye closed, he converts the pain to pleasure.
Brackus’ soft, gentle hands suture and wrap the tattered remains and secure them to heal beneath Larue's dangle pouches. “Finished, sir,” he reports matter-of-factly.
“The ice, boy. Place the ice.” Brought back from his displacement, Larue's tone is rough through clenched teeth.
“Sir. Yes, sir.”
As his pain cools, a new burning begins and a low, steady growl exhales a premonition. "Hold it ... there ... just there, Brackus."
“Sir. Yes, sir.” While bowing low in submission and pressing the ice into place, Brackus feels something rushing across his scalp. Fearing the worst, he pulls back.
"Be still, my boy. Be still." A softer toning replaces the harsh.
One of Larue's particulate collectors gently tickles, tastes and pets, attempting to communicate. The Vertant youth's gray-blue, liquid eyes look into the Vermel’s single orb. Its dark-oily warmth takes him to another place, a haven, a harbor.
The ice slips from Brackus' grip. Another's hand reaches to push the cold's solid, trusted comfort back in place. In this seemingly private moment, the smooth hand of a boy and the clawed hand of a lonely creature press together. "You must call me Lar."
There is a knowing between them that travels through years of long denied internal churnings. "Now, sit boy. Stay."
Brackus takes his position beside this one; the one who will take him from this place tonight. He lowers his head to hide a whisper of a smile as Larue's new persona, Lars, snores with a similar whisper that drools dreams of never again needing to return to Sadie's.
********
Two guards, usually sedentary lumps, banter as they prepare to remove the overly, anxious breeder to disposal.
"Waste. I say … waste. I'd a done her." Guard 39 strokes Dyrel’s rippling of wobble swellings.
"You? Yeah, right! In your mindlessness. Her kind is picky."
"Not, no more." Guard 39 picks up Dyrel's hand and waves it at Guard 22. "Bye, bye baby." He grunts and lets it flop to the floor. "Waste of a ready pool of slime, I say."
Guard 39 looks toward a shadowed area behind the mural wall where he has taken the limp, warm ones before. "Share?" He asks his co-hort while giving Dyrel's face a great lick as he would a pig-blood sickle. Her twisted foot twitches in protest. "Look ... there. Remnants remain, my friend. Hurry!"
The two, each grabbing an arm and a leg, lift her body and rush past the Mural Wall to the darkness of an alcove behind the stored costumes near the Vertant dormitory. They flush out a hiding, twelve-year-old, Vertant weakling who scurries to a nearby corner. Lem snugs himself into a new hidey-hole, and shivering in a fetal position, listens while the Vermel duo ravish the near-dead.
"Jackpot, missy.” Guard 39’s right dangle waves eagerly from side-to-side as his collectors taste her. He bites her left arm.
“We saved our best for your last!" Guard 22’s dual dangles argue priority, colliding repeatedly. He bites her right arm.
It begins.
Sounds come from her as they pounce, press and thrust to satisfaction. Dyrel's sandaled foot and manicured, curly-clawed hand stick out from under the alcove’s patch-work drape, and as the two shadows growl over opportunities, her fingers sign ‘help me’ until they take her heart.
Lem, the small Vertant, huddles – a tight ball of flesh in the darkness. His silent tears are unstoppable, as he hears his older, once dominate, sister die.
********
Back in the column area, a clueless, foul-breathed, wart-lidded patron waddles up and audaciously reaches down to pinch Sadie's gorgeous triple-ripple derriere which is in perfect symmetry with her Prime One, female-double hump. “Time for some action, baby?” The poser sprays, brownish-gray slime and snorts in a hoarse, foreign dialect.
Sadie jolts back to reality. And with reflexes faster than a word could be toned, she jumps from her arm-chair fantasy and swats him like a fly.
I'll deal with that disrespect later ... Business before pleasure ...The elixirs are beginning to take effect. It’s time to open the Hall of Booths. Sadie, the conductress of this symphony, reaches behind the marble torso for the atrium bell’s chain. A bronze bell gongs three times, reverberating the ancient memories of a time before Under Earth -- memories of humans commuting daily --engrained in the pink marbled floor and walls.
With an air of elegant pride, she flourishes a wave of her hand and announces, “The booths are now ready for viewing. This way, everyone. Come, this way.”
The tipsy, laughing crowd mills through the Cobra's atrium.
“I hate that frightening, two-eyed creature.” A female with amber curls piled high and an eye lash of blue alum chorts.
“Evil … pure evil!” Her sallow-skinned, elderly protector comments.
A respected and feared voice powers through it all. “Yes, it is pure evil. Upper Earth's ever present evil!"
The crowd hushes and parts, making way for a broad, cloaked figure, wearing a top hat that jingles with assorted metals, announcing his illustrious position.
"Trolious," the crowd whispers, bowing and parting to let him pass.
“These vile, monstrous serpents inhabit the entire expanse of Upper Earth. They spew their scorching poison into great acid pits and breathe their tall pillars of fire into Upper Earth’s molten ceiling.”
His faithful followers, hypnotized by his presence, nod their heads in unison and murmur sounds of concordance as he continues.
“May the gods of our fathers protect us from such an abomination.” He raises his ebony walking stick and thrusts it into the air, parrying against an imaginary foe as would any brave guardian or hero.
Several in the crowd flee to a nearby wall to hunker down.
His volume increases to a fervent pitch. “I say, they shall never … as long as the gods guide us and provide fortudinious power through me … they shall never slither our passage ways.”
“Praise to Power.” An enforcement officer raises his fist in agreement.
“Such wicked creatures thrive above and give us reason to be thankful for our perfect world here below.” Resolve echoes as Trolious strikes his authoritative stick on the floor and raises his left hand toward the steel-plated ceiling.
With his usual, wide arm motion, the crowd shuffles closer and tightens into a single entity, interlocking particulate collectors. The atrium fills with an eerie rustling of alum and a thudding of knees as they kneel, conjoined and relinquish their individual identies to a mutual belief. The cohesive Vermel mass raises its many arms, and with eyes closed, it drones a deep pitched, single note while its many, pitifully, deformed, three-fingered hands sweep back and forth beneath the atrium's gray-metal sky, filled with broken-glass stars. Trolious continues. “We thank the gods of our father’s for blessing us …”
“Praise, Praise,” The crowd tones.
“ … for blessing us …”
“Praise the Blessing!” They tone as one. Particulate collectors share fluids which flow like a massive current. An inner rush of oneness overwhelms many who release to faint, twitching in spiritual ecstasy enhanced by blue-euphoria.
"… for blessing us with our entombment here in the greater Under Earth. Praise the gods of our forefathers. And-end.”
“And-end. And-end, Great Trolious. And-end.” Particulate collectors disconnect and withdraw. The individuals stand momentarily dazed from the sensual group interconnection veiled as spiritual awareness.
"All may rise." Trolious bows several times and concludes with an elegant gesture, a spiral of approval from his eye to his groin with a ruby-endowed, knotted, middle finger on his ebony-clawed, three-fingered hand. His wrist movement is fluid, well practiced, as the influential Head of Ministerial Affairs in Bellow City.
“Enough here! Let’s proceed to the booths. We will see this new Vertant wonder.” The spiritual leader taps his black, gold-studded walking stick three times and steps ahead to lead the procession. Trolious' unadorned wife in black meekly follows; a mere shadow of something she once was--a female hopeful for many male off-spring -- Prime Ones like their father.
Sadie stands at the far side of the atrium, admiring her reflection in a full length, gold, baroque-framed mirror. She wiggles to adjusts her wobbles, pokes her red claws through her white hair to re-position the silver alum lilies and adds a bit of green dye to her lips. Satisified with her loveliness, she claps her hands and signals for two of her bare-foot ‘boys’ to open the beveled glass doors. She smiles and motions. “This way, my fellow Bellowians. This way!”
| Author Notes |
Under Earth Species:
Vertant-the off-spring of two Vermel; looks human. Vermel-mutated humans who live in Under Earth; communicate via sign language and various sounds; noted by their single, particulate-collector naris; one eye; dark or red, coarse body hair; flat or twisted feet with three to six long toes; three fingered hands with long curving claw-like nails; pointed teeth in irregular, double rows; intelligent, but with strong base instincts. Particulate collector - a Vermel adaptation to living in a polluted underground; mutation ; porous tubular filaments; can extend from the naris in a searching fashion; they both taste and smell; alert to emotions of other species; Verdants may or may not have remnants, nodes in nasal pharynx tissue(back of throat). dissident-rebel, nonconformist, protester; somebody who publicly disagrees with an established political or religious system or organization. DRINKS & SMOKING Elixirs: Euphoirc-Blue - arouses passion without arousing anger or fear Green - calms aggression and base tendencies to mutilate, kill, cannibalize Caramel-clarity(female enhancement) Ruby-rigidity (male enhancement) Fitzel- a carbonated alcoholic beverage; a light intoxication; makes one funny, silly, uninhibited, kind Smoking- usually a mix of madine and sedderthal Hallucinogenic fungi grown in Bellow City Fazil- a smoking or chewing compound that stains the teeth Arnag-a fungus grown as food; a favorite rubber-chew flavor LOCATIONS: Under Earth- a civilization that exists totally under ground; Vermel territory. Bellow City- located in Under Earth. Jacknel's Arena- where Hunter and Trell were trained and exploited as 'Man' and 'Man #2'. Club ErrOw- a dance club downstairs; Chambers for coupling are upstairs. Sadie's Palace - a night spot where Vertant males are displayed for Vermel viewing and pleasure; masterbation columns are very popular in the Mural Room as is the free elixir bar. Alitian - Sir Alitus was the atrium's designer CHARACTERS: Gima-a Vertant; rescued and raised by Hunter and Asmel Trell- a Vertant; raised by Vermel, escaped to Upper Earth; has not yet learned to speak but has learned to understand it from Gima, his mate. Blathen- Gima and Trell's Vermel son; single, particulate-collector naris, one eye; on the hierarchy of Vermel his appearance labels him a Prime-One. Zee-Gima's second son who looks human Hunter- Nigel once a business man in the city; was captured and tortured by Ticum to become 'Man' in Jacknel's Arena in Bellow City; 'Papa' to Gima; suffers from PTSD. Asmal- a survivalist; built a cabin in the mountains; rescued Hunter; raised Gima with Hunter; 'Papa-Azzy' to Gima Ticum-Vermel;Jacknel's Circus trainer; beat and tortured Hunter; deceased Trum- Vermel; Ticum's brother; Trell's trainer at Jacknel's Arena Sadie- runs a display and pleasure house featuring male Vertants. Milim - Sadie's assistant a Vermel Picar-Vertant at Sadie's Jamie-Picar's Vertant lover; Sadie's favorite. Mr. Arnst- Trell's abusive uncle; now a caznu(neutered) Rom- Arnst's younger companion, lover Disposal Officer- Designated by numbers e.g. DO-45, DO-50; executioners; but they sell their prisoners, usually Vertants, on the black-market to various shady characters like Jacknel and Sadie for use in sport, entertainment, pleasure and artificial insemination collection and sales. Trolious- Head of Ministerial Affairs Larue- Assistant of Ministerial Affairs; canzu Vermel Rolak- Chief Enforcement Officer Vermel speech/sounds: twortle-a sound pattern distinctive to the Vermel; a combination of glottal stops, tongue click-clucks and snorts; an assertive pattern. chort- throaty sounds varying in tonal inflection and duration; normal speech; he chorts=he says. toning- saying; using a series of sounds other than speech thrumping songs-songs Trell learned growing up in Bellow City, Under Earth; melodic, throaty, glottal. Vocabulary: particulate collector - a Vermel adaptation, mutation; porous tubular filaments; can extend from the naris in a searching fashion; they both taste and smell; alert to emotions of other species; Vertants may or may not have remnants; nodes in nasal pharynx tissue may be all that remain in Vertant. Arnag-a fungus grown as food; a favorite rubber-chew flavor Caznu-neutered male Vermel; usually gay and neutered by choice for the good of the gene pool by decree of Trolious ; castration is a common punishment regardless of sexual orientation. And-End - Amen Pernard- a Vermel curse Dangle- a Vermel penis; they have two dangles. Mintrinet - minute alum- short for aluminium; usually recycled cans; a valued metal. mold-blossom - a fungi; small, dark brown and caramel colored flowerettes cluster to form a large crysantehmum-type flower; its heavy, sweet decaying scent is used in perfumed oil. Events: Warrior Games - Under Earth competitions to the death; all are eligible, male, female, Vertant or Vermel; The odds are stacked in favor of the Vermel. |
By barkingdog
Dear Reader: 'Gima' has been listed as Sci-Fi Horror, actually it is Fantasy-Adventure-Horror, but there is no category for it on FanStory. I do not intend to offend anyone, but language and behaviors used are essential to the characters' and storyline contrasts. Scenes are meant to arouse a range of emotions. I hope that they do. The author notes' GLOSSARY is included by request. It's not a required part of the reading. It's merely to assist a new audience. Thank you for reading. :) barking dog
Back Story:
Hunter and Asmel, two humans, are stalking Gima and are only a day away from Apple Valley.
Gima and Trell rest with their infants, Zee and Blathen, in the Valley meadow. Blathen is a Vermel, and Zee looks human like his parents who are Vertant. Trell has much to decide. We go back to ten years ago in Bellow City.
Chapters 8 through 12:
Trell was brought from Ticum's Arena to Sadie's 'House of Fantasy and Pleasure' where he recovered from wounds received at the Arena. Tonight he stands displayed in an octagonal glass booth, ready to be offered to Vermel who can afford him. He is an innocent, 15 year-old Vertant. The Hall of Booths will open after the guests go to the Mural Room for the free, elixir bar and to voyeur or participate in the columns. Larue killed Dyrel and bonded with Brackus. Trolious, the Head of Ministerial Affairs, just finished speaking in the atrium to Sadie's clientele.
Chapter 13
“Enough here! We proceed to the booths. We shall see this Vertant wonder,” Trolious announces. He taps his black, gold-studded walking stick three times and steps ahead to lead the procession.
His unadorned wife in black follows, meekly, a mere shadow of something she once was -- a wife hoping to be the mother of many Vermel sons who would be Prime Ones like their father. Lita had given him only Vermel daughters and many burdens to bear.
Sadie stands at the far side of the atrium and signals to two ‘boys’ to open the beveled glass doors. She smiles at the crowd. “This way please. This way.”
The crowd signs and chorts festively as they drag and hobble ahead, rushing past Trolious' entourage, into the Hall of Booths.
“No Vertant's dangle could ever be greater than mine.”
“Or mine!” A small, physically twisted one brags.
Sadie greets the eager, inebriated cliental.
“The Hall of Booths is open, my fellow Bellowians. Feast … but only with your eyes … for now.”
“Later, I shall have more than just a look.” Arnst winks and slips Sadie two bruicks, hoping to be given priority treatment. “Where is he? The new one?”
“Alone tonight, Mr. Arnst?”
He pays her a third bruick. “Which one is he? Which one?”
“Number eleven, sir.”
He grunts and scurries forward. “Out of my way. Out of my way.”
Pushing and shoving, Vermel of all shapes and ages move forward into the hall. The noisy guests tap on the octagonal, glass booths with polished, curly claws. They snort, thwortle and sign profanities and perverse desires and posture their vile intentions.
The booths’ large, crowned tops and circle-in-circle alum streamers give them the appearance of being gift-wrapped -- presents; the youthful dancers - mere toys on display for the patrons’ pleasures – games for sale.
Imprisoned, the taut, oiled, perfect, male forms reflect the light’s flow of alternating colors as they move to a steady beat set by the alum adorned, boy drummers and the trio of tonal chanters. The dancer's with their perfect bodies, mutations from Vermel to human form, are considered freaks, monstrosities in the eyes of the twisted, squat patrons that pay to watch them and later to possibly rent one for a short time. The torture of such perfect imperfection excites and entertains this perverse crowd.
“He’s so odd, so long, lean, symmetrical.” One giggles, pointing to Picar.
“And ugly, with two small eyes and only two patches of hair.” Her mate presses his risings to her cushy backside.
She squeals with delight.
“ Look, five fingers, five toes.” Another harasses Jami in Booth Ten, mimicking every dance move and gesture as much as a small hippopotamus could imitate a gazelle.
“Three fingers are what the gods gave us. We are their perfect creatures.” The one called Jowly Puss by his previous date, Sugar Pot, plots revenge on the same for deserting him. Sugar leans into a suave fellow and strokes his vermin jacket. She is one of several coy, affected females who’ve been circling this wannabe lady’s man, stalking him as their night's prey.
An overweight male jostles through and leans on the glass of the booth that's drawing the largest crowd -- booth number eleven, Trell's booth. "I didn't pay to see this mutant, so puny and pale! I want my money back."
They ridicule the youths' movements:" He dances without a graceful stumble." And discuss the oddity of a single erection: "His dangle is a hindrance without a pouch and of no use what so ever! My handsome mate has two always adequately enhanced.”
Yet secretly, they envy and marvel at the many Vertant's unenhanced erections which are hard and ready while theirs’ fade without elixirs or medicinal potions. Enhancement is considered a natural part of procreation and enjoyment by the Vermel, so Sadie’s unenhanced Vertants are indeed an amazing curiosity.
Sadie is very pleased, as more guests are beginning to offer their critons for booth keys. But one key is not for sale. Booth Eleven will go to the highest bidder.
Arriving at the already crowded entrance to the booths, Trolious’ party is ushered forward.
“Booth Eleven, sir, as you requested,” Sadie proudly signs and bows toward the presentation. She smiles seeing that her featured performer, Trell, is fully ready.
Trell dances, trying not to distract himself from his purpose – to stay erect or die. His back is turned when Trolious lightly taps on the booth with his walking stick.
“Turn around, mutant,” Trolious laughs, “I already know that you are useless rubbish, smell of defecation and are grotesque.” He postures, hip askew, to beam and look to the crowd for adulation.
His followers applaud and comment, gesturing and sticking out their bulbous tongues to spit on and lick the booth's glass.
Trell sways and glides over the warm interior floor. The revolving light's change colors from blue, to red, then green and he shuts out all distractions in his enclosed world.
| Author Notes |
Thank you jgrace for 'Chamber of Crystal Lights.'
Under Earth Species: Vertant-the off-spring of two Vermel; looks human. Vermel-mutated humans who live in Under Earth; communicate via sign language and various sounds; noted by their single, particulate-collector naris; one eye; dark or red, coarse body hair; flat or twisted feet with three to six long toes; three fingered hands with long curving claw-like nails; pointed teeth in irregular, double rows; intelligent, but with strong base instincts. Particulate collector - a Vermel adaptation to living in a polluted underground; mutation ; porous tubular filaments; can extend from the naris in a searching fashion; they both taste and smell; alert to emotions of other species; Verdants may or may not have remnants, nodes in nasal pharynx tissue(back of throat). dissident-rebel, nonconformist, protester; somebody who publicly disagrees with an established political or religious system or organization. DRINKS & SMOKING Elixirs: Euphoric-Blue - arouses passion without arousing anger or fear Green - calms aggression and base tendencies to mutilate, kill, cannibalize Caramel-clarity(female enhancement) Ruby-rigidity (male enhancement) Fitzel- a carbonated alcoholic beverage; a light intoxication; makes one funny, silly, uninhibited, kind Smoking- usually a mix of madine and sedderthal Hallucinogenic fungi grown in Bellow City Fazil- a smoking or chewing compound that stains the teeth Arnag-a fungus grown as food; a favorite rubber-chew flavor LOCATIONS: Under Earth- a civilization that exists totally under ground; Vermel territory. Bellow City- located in Under Earth. Jacknel's Arena- where Hunter and Trell were trained and exploited as 'Man' and 'Man #2'. Club ErrOw- a dance club downstairs; Chambers for coupling are upstairs. Sadie's Palace - a night spot where Vertant males are displayed for Vermel viewing and pleasure; masterbation columns are very popular in the Mural Room as is the free elixir bar. Alitian - Sir Alitus was the atrium's designer CHARACTERS: Gima-a Vertant; rescued and raised by Hunter and Asmel Trell- a Vertant; raised by Vermel, escaped to Upper Earth; has not yet learned to speak but has learned to understand it from Gima, his mate. Blathen- Gima and Trell's Vermel son; single, particulate-collector naris, one eye; on the hierarchy of Vermel his appearance labels him a Prime-One. Zee-Gima's second son who looks human Hunter- Nigel once a business man in the city; was captured and tortured by Ticum to become 'Man' in Jacknel's Arena in Bellow City; 'Papa' to Gima; suffers from PTSD. Asmal- a survivalist; built a cabin in the mountains; rescued Hunter; raised Gima with Hunter; 'Papa-Azzy' to Gima Ticum-Vermel;Jacknel's Circus trainer; beat and tortured Hunter; deceased Trum- Vermel; Ticum's brother; Trell's trainer at Jacknel's Arena Sadie- runs a display and pleasure house featuring male Vertants. Milim - Sadie's assistant a Vermel Picar-Vertant at Sadie's Jami-Picar's Vertant lover; Sadie's favorite. Mr. Arnst- Trell's abusive uncle; now a caznu(neutered)and no longer abusive Rom- Arnst's younger companion, lover Disposal Officer- Designated by numbers e.g. DO-45, DO-50; executioners; but they sell their prisoners, usually Vertants, on the black-market to various shady characters like Jacknel and Sadie for use in sport, entertainment, pleasure and artificial insemination collection and sales. Trolious- Head of Ministerial Affairs Larue- Assistant of Ministerial Affairs; canzu(involuntarilly castrated by Dyrel whom he killed) Vermel Rolak- Chief Enforcement Officer Vermel speech/sounds: twortle-a sound pattern distinctive to the Vermel; a combination of glottal stops, tongue click-clucks and snorts; an assertive pattern. chort- throaty sounds varying in tonal inflection and duration; normal speech; he chorts=he says. toning- saying; using a series of sounds other than speech thrumping songs-songs Trell learned growing up in Bellow City, Under Earth; melodic, throaty, glottal. Vocabulary: particulate collector - a Vermel adaptation, mutation; porous tubular filaments; can extend from the naris in a searching fashion; they both taste and smell; alert to emotions of other species; Vertants may or may not have remnants; nodes in nasal pharynx tissue may be all that remain in Vertant. Arnag-a fungus grown as food; a favorite rubber-chew flavor Caznu-neutered male Vermel; usually gay and neutered by choice for the good of the gene pool by decree of Trolious ; castration is a common punishment regardless of sexual orientation. And-End - Amen Pernard- a Vermel curse Dangle- a Vermel penis; they have two dangles. Mintrinet - minute alum- short for aluminium; usually recycled cans; a valued metal. mold-blossom - a fungi; small, dark brown and caramel colored flowerettes cluster to form a large crysantehmum-type flower; its heavy, sweet decaying scent is used in perfumed oil. Events: Warrior Games - Under Earth competitions to the death; all are eligible, male, female, Vertant or Vermel; The odds are stacked in favor of the Vermel. |
By barkingdog
Dear Reader: 'Gima' has been listed as Sci-Fi Horror, actually it is Fantasy-Adventure-Horror, but there is no category for it on FanStory. I do not intend to offend anyone, but language and behaviors used are essential to the characters' and storyline contrasts. Scenes are meant to arouse a range of emotions. I hope that they do. The author notes' GLOSSARY is included by request. It's not a required part of the reading. It's merely to assist a new audience. Thank you for reading. :) barking dog
Back Story:
Hunter and Asmel, two humans, are stalking Gima and are only a day away from Apple Valley.
Gima and Trell rest with their infants, Zee and Blathen, in the Valley meadow. Blathen is a Vermel, and Zee looks human like his parents who are Vertant. Trell has much to decide. We go back to ten years ago in Bellow City.
Chapters 8 through 12:
In Bellow City, Trell was brought from Ticum's Arena to Sadie's 'House of Fantasy and Pleasure' where he recovered from wounds received at the Arena. Tonight he stands displayed in an octagonal glass booth, ready to be offered to Vermel who can afford him. He is an innocent, 15 year-old Vertant.
End of Chapter 13
"Father?" Trell's body tremors, and he feels his insides bursting one vessel at a time. He slides weakly down the interior of the glass smearing it with sweat and oil. "Father." His mute lips move as his throat swells with tears of abandonment.
Trolious' family secret revealed through Ticum's betrayal and Sadie's greed prompts a Prime One response. Instinct alerts his particulates to weaponize; deadly slime sprays, uncontrollably, as biologic impulse prompts destruction of everything connected to the threat. And that everything would, currently, be, besides Trell, Sadie, her establishment and all witnesses.
Chapter 14
"Sadie, unlock this booth!" Trolious throws his walking stick and then shatters a chair against Trell's glass enclosure. Trell flinches and retreats to the furthest interior wall. Once a prison, now Booth Eleven becomes a sanctuary; its thick glass though cracked holds firm.
Rife with rage, Trolious paces, caged in his own mind of past memories. They are as fresh, right now, as they were fifteen years ago when the certainty of welcoming his first-born, Prime One son was obliterated.
Lida had delivered two months early with a nine month gestation while Trolious, a young ambitious politician, was away campaigning in Cindel City, an adjoining middle-class Vermel community. Lida's instinct to mother, to nurse drew her, instantly to the chubby, bald baby boy whose two bright blue eyes loved her warts, drool and all, unconditionally, at first sight. She named him Trell and hid him with her sister, Betta who lives in a crowded hovis in one of the many tunnels just outside Upperton City. "I've miscarried again, Trolious," Lida told him. He beat her, unmercifully; the limp still remains.
Several months passed, Lida became careless: her nature changed from sedentary and plaintive to busy and content; she was frequently absent when Trolious required her.
One day, Trolious prepared for a confrontation and followed Lida. Initially, he suspected a tryst with his brother, Trinious, envied for proven reproductive superiority, having already produced two Prime One off-spring -- a clever, little whirl-wind named Sadie and her, comparatively, quiet litter-brother, Sade. But Lida, carrying a weighty pig-skin satchel, scurried past the turn leading to Trinious' well lit, underground mansion and continued a mile or so past two more open tunnels, turned at a third and, exhausted, knocked on a rusty, dented door lit by a sole oil lamp flickering in its green glass lantern. It was Lida's unmated sister Betta's small hovel. Betta who was once very close to execution for treason but was allowed to live because of Trolious' influence reached out to pull Trell's mother quickly inside and carefully hands a wiggling bundle to his mother, "He's eager for his mothers breast and whimpers for you at night. I do the best I can ..."
Suddenly, with one strategically placed kick to the door Trolious stood in the center of the small, cluttered room. "What's this, wife?" Anger filled the air. Like a poisonous mist, it permeated every insect infested crack. Small feelers and hundreds of legs stilled, hiding from detection.
"Trolious, no," Lida pleaded, "please." She reached out when he ripped the feeding infant from her and held it in the air by a pale leg. Trell hung like a bat, flapping and screeching.
"Miscarriage, is it?" Trolious tosses Trell toward the wall, luckily a small cousin crouched there in the shadows stood tall enough to reach up and catch the flung parcel and silence Trell's wails with his three-year-old thrumb.
Trolious took out his knife and put its tip to Lida's cheek. "And what's this?" He tore open the satchel, spilling food and infant clothing on the floor. "Stealing from me, as well, wife?"
"Have mercy." She groveled at his feet."No one will ever know. We can say he's Bettas." Betta nods."He can stay with her others." Small two-eyed faces, their teeth chattering an SOS, peered out from dark corners. All of Betta's off-spring were Vertant.
One toddled over, pulled on Trell's arm and sighed, "Mine."
"Picar, no. Come here." Betta cautioned the caring cousin.
"You can never come here again, Lida." With this ultimatum, Lida looked at Trell then back to Trolious. Her eye begged him for this not to be true. "Never! Or he dies, here and now, before the decree takes him."
Trell's mother bowed her head and backed slowly out the door never even looking up for a final glance at her golden one. Lida thus gave Trell fifteen years of life before he'd be taken, sold for Vermel entertainment and left to face an inevitable cruel death. She went a bit mad. From that point on, every blonde Vertant that she saw, Lida was certain, for a moment, was Trell.
*******
Lida has seen many Trells through the years at Ticum's Circus, the Warrior Games and Sadie's. Tonight is no different. All she wants to do is escape the memories of the gentleness that came from her and fall into the gray veil of mosh root in the smoking room.
As these memories rush back, Trolious lets deceptive, deadly droplets fly from his flaying naris extensions and take to the air.
The reflective rainbows drift between Booths Eleven and Twelve.
A voyeuristic couple, copulating there, obliviously bounce in their own world.
"Oh, baby, baby, yes, yes, yes!" she screams, fantasizing Trell as her lover. A single rainbow droplet enters her mouth during a final, climactic scream.
Her partner continues, thrusting into stiff silence. "Come on, come on." Nearing his point, he feels a light rain spray on his back, and he turns with a wide-eyed welcome. Bingo, direct hit. Tied, he drops as his eye absorbes the poison. He remains unfulfilled, dead.
Trolious roars profanities as he stomps down the center aisle. He retrieves his walking stick and pounds it from booth to booth with little result for much effort. Inside the booths, defenseless, naked dancers weep, grasp their knees and press tightly to inside corners. Trolious' final stage of anger turns his poisonous spew to acid. The glass begins to sizzle.
Initially curious and craving entertainment, the Ministerial admirers who had remained in the Hall of Booths, finally, realize the unbelievable consequences of the behavior of their esteemed leader and attempt to escape; many more are struck by acid and fall instantly. Torsos burst open. Heads melt. Mayhem ensues as they push each other aside, slip into acid puddles and go it alone, each one for him or herself.
The able and wounded press into the atrium. Sizzling in meat piles, they scratch with desperation at the locked exit while their flesh melts. Others may be more fortunate; they'll only lose an arm or a leg. They gnaw and tear in a race against time, discarding body parts smoking with acid, hoping to beat its way to their torso.
The atrium guards attempt to turn the final incoming surge of the panicked herd toward the calming-green nip lines, but the crowd without a leader ignores them and continues to circle the Cobra statue. The tottering alum serpent glitters in the light. It appears to animate and weaves ready to strike, angered by their continual collisions with its base.
Creak, creak, rattle, creak, creak come from a new god rising.
"The Cobra speaks ... it's alive."
"It has overcome Trolious, driven him mad."
"Now, it is calling its own kind. Hear its call?"
"They'll all be coming from Upper Earth." A female falls to her knees.
"We'll be eaten by great serpents." Another kneels and raises her hands.
"Taken top-side and sacrificed to their God of fire." A male on his knees joins his particulates with the two kneeling females.
"Listen, the great one speaks!" An Elder points to the Cobra.
"Stop shoving."
"Move back."
"Ask him to be merciful." Another Cobra convert advises.
The many bow down to the Cobra and joining particulates, pledge a new allegiance. In response, it topples down upon them and crashes to the floor with a great metal upon metal groan, screaming with their screams.
A small one with beaded hair, who had been told to 'Stay' by her great warrior, sits, shivering; the pedestal had fallen in the opposite direction, leaving her one of few survivors.
But Tileen was not so fortunate, her head lies beneath the serpent's massive jowls -- her face, crushed. Her tattoo of entrails and wire, now, trails with a magenta ooze from her open exhale.
Back in the Hall of Booths, Arnst, slow of pace, shakes his cane at Sadie. "I did not pay for this!" Peering out from behind a shield of protective alum inlaid with a portrait of a dragon raging fire, he waddles, turtle in a foot race, toward the exit. He turns in the Booth Hall's doorway, shouting behind him as stragglers jostle past. "Prime One spewing should be saved for the Warrior Games."
Sadie, attempting to squelch further damage tries to intervene. "Trolious, my dear uncle, stop. You are ruining me!"
"It is your fault that Trell's here." He spews toward her.
Prepared for this purpose, she lifts her shield, just in time. It sizzles. Ire rises and looks through her vengeful black eye, and her change begins with a clear flowing slime.
There's no reasoning with Trolious. His acid concentrates, as his anger increases. Where ever it lands, it eats away the surface. The floor bubbles, bodies empty their contents. Many well-dressed elite, limbs lost or blind, hobble and feel their way to the Hall's exit. The massacre's screeching pleas of pain and moans of dying become the walls' worst memories.
"Milim," Sadie becons her huddling assistant from a far corner, "take the key," she removes the largest key from her pocket and presses it in his hand, "unlock the main entrance doors."
| Author Notes |
Thank you Angelheart for your lovely art, 'The Spin.'
Under Earth Species: Vertant-the off-spring of two Vermel; looks human. Vermel-mutated humans who live in Under Earth; communicate via sign language and various sounds; noted by their single, particulate-collector naris; one eye; dark or red, coarse body hair; flat or twisted feet with three to six long toes; three fingered hands with long curving claw-like nails; pointed teeth in irregular, double rows; intelligent, but with strong base instincts. Particulate collector - a Vermel adaptation to living in a polluted underground; mutation ; porous tubular filaments; can extend from the naris in a searching fashion; they both taste and smell; alert to emotions of other species; Verdants may or may not have remnants, nodes in nasal pharynx tissue(back of throat). dissident-rebel, nonconformist, protester; somebody who publicly disagrees with an established political or religious system or organization. DRINKS & SMOKING Elixirs: Euphoric-Blue - arouses passion without arousing anger or fear Green - calms aggression and base tendencies to mutilate, kill, cannibalize Caramel-clarity(female enhancement) Ruby-rigidity (male enhancement) Fitzel- a carbonated alcoholic beverage; a light intoxication; makes one funny, silly, uninhibited, kind Smoking- usually a mix of madine and sedderthal Hallucinogenic fungi grown in Bellow City Fazil- a smoking or chewing compound that stains the teeth Arnag-a fungus grown as food; a favorite rubber-chew flavor LOCATIONS: Under Earth- a civilization that exists totally under ground; Vermel territory. Bellow City- located in Under Earth. Jacknel's Arena- where Hunter and Trell were trained and exploited as 'Man' and 'Man #2'. Club ErrOw- a dance club downstairs; Chambers for coupling are upstairs. Sadie's Palace - a night spot where Vertant males are displayed for Vermel viewing and pleasure; masterbation columns are very popular in the Mural Room as is the free elixir bar. Alitian - Sir Alitus was the atrium's designer hovis-home CHARACTERS: Gima-a Vertant; rescued and raised by Hunter and Asmel Trell- a Vertant; raised by Vermel, escaped to Upper Earth; has not yet learned to speak but has learned to understand it from Gima, his mate. Blathen- Gima and Trell's Vermel son; single, particulate-collector naris, one eye; on the hierarchy of Vermel his appearance labels him a Prime-One. Zee-Gima's second son who looks human Hunter- Nigel once a business man in the city; was captured and tortured by Ticum to become 'Man' in Jacknel's Arena in Bellow City; 'Papa' to Gima; suffers from PTSD. Asmal- a survivalist; built a cabin in the mountains; rescued Hunter; raised Gima with Hunter; 'Papa-Azzy' to Gima Ticum-Vermel;Jacknel's Circus trainer; beat and tortured Hunter; deceased Trum- Vermel; Ticum's brother; Trell's trainer at Jacknel's Arena Sadie- runs a display and pleasure house featuring male Vertants. Milim - Sadie's assistant a Vermel Picar-Vertant at Sadie's Jami-Picar's Vertant lover; Sadie's favorite. Mr. Arnst- Trell's abusive uncle; now a caznu(neutered)and no longer abusive Rom- Arnst's younger companion, lover Disposal Officer- Designated by numbers e.g. DO-45, DO-50; executioners; but they sell their prisoners, usually Vertants, on the black-market to various shady characters like Jacknel and Sadie for use in sport, entertainment, pleasure and artificial insemination collection and sales. Trolious- Head of Ministerial Affairs Larue- Assistant of Ministerial Affairs; canzu(involuntarilly castrated by Dyrel whom he killed) Vermel Rolak- Chief Enforcement Officer Vermel speech/sounds: twortle-a sound pattern distinctive to the Vermel; a combination of glottal stops, tongue click-clucks and snorts; an assertive pattern. chort- throaty sounds varying in tonal inflection and duration; normal speech; he chorts=he says. toning- saying; using a series of sounds other than speech thrumping songs-songs Trell learned growing up in Bellow City, Under Earth; melodic, throaty, glottal. Vocabulary: particulate collector - a Vermel adaptation, mutation; porous tubular filaments; can extend from the naris in a searching fashion; they both taste and smell; alert to emotions of other species; Vertants may or may not have remnants; nodes in nasal pharynx tissue may be all that remain in Vertant. Arnag-a fungus grown as food; a favorite rubber-chew flavor Caznu-neutered male Vermel; usually gay and neutered by choice for the good of the gene pool by decree of Trolious ; castration is a common punishment regardless of sexual orientation. And-End - Amen Pernard- a Vermel curse Dangle- a Vermel penis; they have two dangles. Mintrinet - minute alum- short for aluminium; usually recycled cans; a valued metal. mold-blossom - a fungi; small, dark brown and caramel colored flowerettes cluster to form a large crysantehmum-type flower; its heavy, sweet decaying scent is used in perfumed oil. Events: Warrior Games - Under Earth competitions to the death; all are eligible, male, female, Vertant or Vermel; The odds are stacked in favor of the Vermel. |
By barkingdog
Dear Reader: 'Gima' has been listed as Sci-Fi Horror, actually it is Fantasy-Adventure-Horror, but there is no category for it on FanStory. I do not intend to offend anyone, but language and behaviors used are essential to the characters' and storyline contrasts. Scenes are meant to arouse a range of emotions. I hope that they do. The author notes' GLOSSARY is included by request. It's not a required part of the reading. It's merely to assist a new audience. Thank you for reading. :) barking dog
Back Story:
Hunter and Asmel, two humans, are stalking Gima and are only a day away from Apple Valley.
Gima and Trell rest with their infants, Zee and Blathen, in the Valley meadow. Blathen is a Vermel, and Zee looks human like his parents who are Vertant. Trell has much to decide. We go back to ten years ago in Bellow City.
Chapters 8 through 14:
In Bellow City, Trell was brought from Ticum's Arena to Sadie's 'House of Fantasy and Pleasure' where he recovered from wounds received at the Arena. Tonight he stands displayed in an octagonal glass booth, ready to be offered to Vermel who can afford him. He is an innocent, 15 year-old Vertant. Trolious is spewing acid to destroy Sadie's and its patrons after seeing Trell who he had sent to the Arena and deemed dead. Trell is Trolious' Vertant son. It is a humiliation to have Vertant off-spring.
End of Chapter 14
“Milim,” Sadie beacons her huddling assistant from a far corner, “take the key,” she orders, removing the largest key from her pocket, “unlock the main entrance doors.”
Chapter 15
Trolious aims, preparing to shoot more acid at the one he blames for revealing his blood-line's degrading secret -- Trell. Milim ducks behind Sadie, avoiding death at the very last second, as Sadie stoops, holding her shield tight and high, “Go … quickly!” She pushes the key into Milim’s hand.
Milim, clutching the key to his tomorrow, carefully waddle-weaves a path through the dead and dying on his way to the atrium's double-door entrance. I'll be the first out the fradickin' door! And Sadie can take this job and ... He almost falls, slipping in slime. Careful, asshole. Careful. He plods along, clasping the key. Tha-thump, tha-thump pumps in his head.
Trolious, having sighted several witnesses, is off to pursue an easy target. He heads beyond the west booth line toward the far wall where he hears clicking and tonal anger.
Being a Prime One herself, Sadie’s instinct is to protect her territory. Battle ready, particulate extended, her teeth clacking, she stalks Trolious who stands in the shadows enjoying a non-cooperative, angry trio's attempt to scratch their way up the west wall to the safety of a narrow balcony.
The three party-animals, a dapper male and two night-life females, clamor to climb on each other’s shoulders and heads. The ones below pull the upper ones down. Each with the need to be first to get to the waiting balcony ends them all back in a pile on the floor. Trolious can barely contain his laughter.
“Me, me.” The clawing red-headed female, draws blood with a sharp swipe.
“No, me,” the slim, second one chorts pulling down the first by her shiny- leather corset.
“Get back, bitches.” The vermin jacketed lady's man grabs the scrapers, one in each hand, and slams them side-by-side, facing against the wall. “Stand here. Stay.” He steps on their shoulders. “Let me up.”
“Asshole, me first.” The pretty, yellow-blemished one moves one step to her right. She smirks, tumbling him to the solid marble. Crack. His arm hangs limp. High on blue euphoria, he feels no pain.
Sadistic laughter plays through the shadows, introducing a voice as smooth as oil. “My children, are we having fun yet? May I be of some assistance?”
The lady's man barricades himself behind the two females. He holds the thin, blemished one in place by her hair.
"Let me go." She pulls against in his grip.
"Shall we play?" A yellow, malicious glare widens across Trolious' ministerial face. "Let me see you dance!" Trolious, playful with a steady, teasing stare, aims and spurts acid downward just in front of their feet.
His three puppets jump, simultaneously.
"And again." Spurt.
"And again." Spurt.
Pleased, Trolious cavorts excitedly like a giant Gambian rat on a sparking, center rail. Then suddenly, with his directorial eye for detail, he realizes that something is missing in this, little play. "You're not smiling, my sweets. Where is the laughter? Aren't you having fun, yet?"
Spurt ... Jump.
"Laugh." Trolious' voice whips. Maniacal glee reaches a high pitch, quavering with visceral, sadistic pleasure.
Suddenly a recognizable, youthful arousal surges through him, one Trolious hasn't felt in many, many years. Both pouches grow firm, and his mind, tick-tick, calculates additional action. The red-head is plump, her warts and hump taut. Yes ... I'll take that one.
Spurt ... Three jump, laughing.
When the females see Trolious' magnificent rise, The Minister is surely blessed, they begin vying for a Prime One mating. They stink the air with pheromones, and their active uterine walls produce frothy slime globules which pool in their pouches to then spill onto the floor. Pick me. Pick me.
Spurt ... Two jump, laughing ... touching ...
... while Trolious ravages the red-head. He breaths her in, his claws hook to tear, and biting her fleshy hump, he thrusts two large organs into her ripe gaping, wet pouch. She moans in painful ecstasy, and clenches her pouch to him even as her flesh rips. Excited by the taste of her blood and her obvious suffering, he spurts hot, rare Prime One seed and, at the same time, he carelessly sprays acid at the other two who are voyeuring while locked to breed, bouncing at the wall.
Spurt ... Now joined, they nearly forget to laugh and jump as expected.
Trolious intent on his actions, and as hard as Sadie’s prized marble statuary, thrusts once ... twice... and again. His dangles tense to a final stage, their barbs scrape as they extend further inward to grip the cushy peach lining. The red-head's screams reach for the protection of the balcony, yet her hair tangles, trapped in his hand. When the temporary blindness of female release prevails, her eye clouds over and begins to bulge out then retract in, out then in, again and again. The pulsation stops. She is completed.
Finished, Trolious' dangles selfishly withdraw still barbed. They seem to laugh with their master as they pull her insides with them, to exit covered with juice and particles of her fuzzy canal. Trolious tosses the red-haired, floppy dolly back to the wall, used and bleeding.
"Now, we're having fun." He adjusts his virile pride, taps his walking stick tap, tap, tap, and proceeds to enjoy the show at the wall.
At some point during Trolious' random spraying, acid had hit the lady's man who is now slumped to the floor. His pompous mouth is wide with interrupted pleasure, his eye is quite missing and his brain sizzles -- its sweet licorice smell, deliciously appealing. The thin one straddles him.
Licking his lips, Trolious' eye glimmers as he watches. He leans forward on his gold knobbed, ebony stick and hisses a final command, "Go, little missy. Have your last of him."
The thin blemished one rides the corpse, a strange, deformed calvary rider to the call. His dangle still tied, even in death, pleasures her. The taste of licorice on her lips puts a wildness in her stride. After pursuing him all evening ... she, finally, had the lady's man. At last, she had him to ride to the last -- his last, her last, their last.
She whoops a wild cry for the finish which comes hard. She brings more pleasure by drawing her own blood. She pierces her center wobble with a razor sharp silver-painted claw and touching her outer pouch folds she squeezes to release her progeny. Finished and unable to detach, pissed off and eager to be free of him, she reaches below and with a quick sharp claw she severs the still engorged, barb-tight dangle. Looking quite pleased, and licking The lady's man's bodily fluids from her hands, she stands with his dangle still inside of her. Its threads hanging from her like a party favor. She smiles.
Trolious bores with this drama, his players are looking shabby, unprofessional. He announces, "Final curtain, my lovelies."
With blank stares into Trolious' single, dark mirror, the battered red-head and triumphant blemished one see their last reflections.
“Take a bow, my ladies." He claps a steady beat.
Fright floods them, and they piss instinctive submission as they back over what’s left of the lady's man.
"Curtsy low, my Thespians," Trolious bellows. Backs up against the wall, the defeated look up to where they could have been and then at each other and snarl.
Trolious sprays acid with a newly found joyous rhythm. He vocalizes low, slippery tones to a harshly patterned, practiced melody which is interrupted by occasional bleating from the two being sacrificed. With a final bit of celebratory dance, Trolious twirls, spraying far and wide. Then there is silence.
With a flourish of his twisted hand, his sapphire and ruby ring of office leading, he presents a sweeping bow to the dead. "Bravo! Well, done my fellow Bellowians. Well, done!"
Trolious feels good.
Sadie feels good -- very, very good. She relished watching this drama, as well.
Bravo, my cousin. Bravo! Your plays always did kill.
********
As Trolious was crossing to the west wall and Sadie was following him, the ancient marble walls and floor of the booth area near Booths Ten, Eleven and Twelve were marring and staining with magenta as acid and blood combined to eat through the surface. Particles of the lethal spew had, also, run together on the booths’ glass walls. Small holes had sizzled and begun to spider-web, joining, weaving vulnerable patches on the glass prison walls.
Picar is the first to fathom the possibility and kicks once, then twice at the weakened, acid-etched glass. It shatters, as Trolious and Sadie fight on the far side of the massive Hall.
“Jamie, Trell,” Picar leans his body half out-side the enclosure. “The glass is weak. Kick it. It’s our chance.” His legs reach, as he springs from Booth #12, over several bodies, to the safety of the performance platform. The drummers and vocal trio shiver and huddle far to its rear.
Jami kicks and is free. Trell thrusts through the glass and the two sprint to the stage.
“Now, what?” Jami signs.
The main aisle between the booth rows is strewn with moaning Vermel debauchers, soon to be liquid corpses and is primarily impassable. They notice a space along the east wall behind the booths that looks safe enough where no one will see them. The glass walls are beginning to shatter, spontaneously, giving them good cover.
“Hurry, we can make it to the wall.” Trell motions for the others to follow.
Picar, Jami and Trell lead the way, jumping from the stage to the corner of a booth to the wall just behind it. The drummers and Vertant trio follow. A couple of daring Vertant dancers from the west booth line make it across the melting dead by stepping gingerly across their own fallen and are embraced with silent celebration.
A small drummer misjudges the booth’s distant corner and falls into a puddle of Vermel, probably a female, judging by the undamaged earring at the pool’s edge. His slim arms beat empty air, reaching for help, as his legs and torso, and finally silent, his head disappear.
Internal fortitude builds as the remaining eleven, led by Picar, edge toward the alcove that leads to the Vertant dormitory.
Suddenly, there she is -- Sadie!
| Author Notes |
Under Earth Species:
Vertant-the off-spring of two Vermel; looks human. Vermel-mutated humans who live in Under Earth; communicate via sign language and various sounds; noted by their single, particulate-collector naris; one eye; dark or red, coarse body hair; flat or twisted feet with three to six long toes; three fingered hands with long curving claw-like nails; pointed teeth in irregular, double rows; intelligent, but with strong base instincts. Particulate collector - a Vermel adaptation to living in a polluted underground; mutation ; porous tubular filaments; can extend from the naris in a searching fashion; they both taste and smell; alert to emotions of other species; Verdants may or may not have remnants, nodes in nasal pharynx tissue(back of throat). dissident-rebel, nonconformist, protester; somebody who publicly disagrees with an established political or religious system or organization. DRINKS & SMOKING Elixirs: Euphoric-Blue - arouses passion without arousing anger or fear Green - calms aggression and base tendencies to mutilate, kill, cannibalize Caramel-clarity(female enhancement) Ruby-rigidity (male enhancement) Fitzel- a carbonated alcoholic beverage; a light intoxication; makes one funny, silly, uninhibited, kind Smoking- usually a mix of madine and sedderthal Hallucinogenic fungi grown in Bellow City Fazil- a smoking or chewing compound that stains the teeth Arnag-a fungus grown as food; a favorite rubber-chew flavor LOCATIONS: Under Earth- a civilization that exists totally under ground; Vermel territory. Bellow City- located in Under Earth. Jacknel's Arena- where Hunter and Trell were trained and exploited as 'Man' and 'Man #2'. Club ErrOw- a dance club downstairs; Chambers for coupling are upstairs. Sadie's Palace - a night spot where Vertant males are displayed for Vermel viewing and pleasure; masterbation columns are very popular in the Mural Room as is the free elixir bar. Alitian - Sir Alitus was the atrium's designer CHARACTERS: Gima-a Vertant; rescued and raised by Hunter and Asmel Trell- a Vertant; raised by Vermel, escaped to Upper Earth; has not yet learned to speak but has learned to understand it from Gima, his mate. Blathen- Gima and Trell's Vermel son; single, particulate-collector naris, one eye; on the hierarchy of Vermel his appearance labels him a Prime-One. Zee-Gima's second son who looks human Hunter- Nigel once a business man in the city; was captured and tortured by Ticum to become 'Man' in Jacknel's Arena in Bellow City; 'Papa' to Gima; suffers from PTSD. Asmal- a survivalist; built a cabin in the mountains; rescued Hunter; raised Gima with Hunter; 'Papa-Azzy' to Gima Ticum-Vermel;Jacknel's Circus trainer; beat and tortured Hunter; deceased Trum- Vermel; Ticum's brother; Trell's trainer at Jacknel's Arena Sadie- runs a display and pleasure house featuring male Vertants. Milim - Sadie's assistant a Vermel Picar-Vertant at Sadie's Jami-Picar's Vertant lover; Sadie's favorite. Mr. Arnst- Trell's abusive uncle; now a caznu(neutered)and no longer abusive Rom- Arnst's younger companion, lover Disposal Officer- Designated by numbers e.g. DO-45, DO-50; executioners; but they sell their prisoners, usually Vertants, on the black-market to various shady characters like Jacknel and Sadie for use in sport, entertainment, pleasure and artificial insemination collection and sales. Trolious- Head of Ministerial Affairs Larue- Assistant of Ministerial Affairs; canzu(involuntarilly castrated by Dyrel whom he killed) Vermel Rolak- Chief Enforcement Officer Vermel speech/sounds: twortle-a sound pattern distinctive to the Vermel; a combination of glottal stops, tongue click-clucks and snorts; an assertive pattern. chort- throaty sounds varying in tonal inflection and duration; normal speech; he chorts=he says. toning- saying; using a series of sounds other than speech thrumping songs-songs Trell learned growing up in Bellow City, Under Earth; melodic, throaty, glottal. Vocabulary: particulate collector - a Vermel adaptation, mutation; porous tubular filaments; can extend from the naris in a searching fashion; they both taste and smell; alert to emotions of other species; Vertants may or may not have remnants; nodes in nasal pharynx tissue may be all that remain in Vertant. Arnag-a fungus grown as food; a favorite rubber-chew flavor Caznu-neutered male Vermel; usually gay and neutered by choice for the good of the gene pool by decree of Trolious ; castration is a common punishment regardless of sexual orientation. And-End - Amen Pernard- a Vermel curse Dangle- a Vermel penis; they have two dangles. Mintrinet - minute alum- short for aluminium; usually recycled cans; a valued metal. mold-blossom - a fungi; small, dark brown and caramel colored flowerettes cluster to form a large crysantehmum-type flower; its heavy, sweet decaying scent is used in perfumed oil. Events: Warrior Games - Under Earth competitions to the death; all are eligible, male, female, Vertant or Vermel; The odds are stacked in favor of the Vermel. |
By barkingdog
Dear Reader,
Please skip this and go on to Chapter 17: 'Confrontation and Alliance,' after you read Chapter 15: 'Revenge and Bravery'
Internal fortitude builds as the remaining eleven, led by Picar, edge toward the alcove that leads to the Vertant dormitory.
Suddenly, there she is - Sadie, "Going some where, boys?" her claws and face bloody. A dripping particulate threatens but she hesitates, knowing the value of the property standing naked in front of her. My boys will never defy me. I've trained and know them too well.
We can take her. There are eleven of us. Slowly, cautiously, Trell inches toward a pedestal where a large decorative gold nugget is displayed.
"Picar, Jami, take the rest of the boys to the dormitory. You'll be safe there," Sadie chorts in a motherly tone through a crooked smile filled with razor sharp, flesh strewn warnings.
Jami, the senior boy who's been submissive for many years, begins to bow, as is his habit. Seeing all might be lost, Trell takes a daring chance and shoves Jami into Sadie mid-section. As she bends forward Trell pitches the gold. The bulls-eye gashes her temple. Disoriented, she stumbles.
Seeing the dagger, Trell leaps to rip it, scabbard and all from her waist. "Down with tyranny," he yells, holding the symbol high. He shakes it, as a leader might, toward each of his brothers needing courage.
No, not my relic. Sadie, magenta-red blushed from head to toe, staggers from the blow. Reaching out for the side of a booth to steady her spinning perceptions, she prepares to stand and spew any one of the hundreds of boys that rotate against the east wall like a pin-wheel.
Sadie rubs her eye and aims her particulate at whatever ... guessing is her only option.
Braving the moment, Picar lunges forward and grabs Sadie's slender particulate in an attempt to control the direction of the deadly, crystal rain. "Run, my brothers, run," he orders. His muscles ripple with purpose. Gottcha, bitch!
By barkingdog
Dear Reader: 'Gima' has been listed as Sci-Fi Horror, actually it is Fantasy-Adventure-Horror, but there is no category for it on FanStory. I do not intend to offend anyone, but language and behaviors used are essential to the characters' and storyline contrasts. Scenes are meant to arouse a range of emotions. I hope that they do. The author notes' GLOSSARY is included by request. It's not a required part of the reading. It's merely to assist a new audience. Thank you for reading. :) barking dog
Back Story:
Hunter and Asmel, two humans, are stalking Gima and are only a day away from Apple Valley.
Gima and Trell rest with their infants, Zee and Blathen, in the Valley meadow. Blathen is a Vermel, and Zee looks human like his parents who are Vertant. Trell has much to decide. We go back to ten years ago in Bellow City.
Chapters 8 through 16
In Bellow City, Trell was brought from Ticum's Arena to Sadie's 'House of Fantasy and Pleasure' where he recovered from wounds received at the Arena. Tonight he was displayed in an octagonal glass booth, ready to be offered to Vermel who could afford him. Trolious has spewed acid to destroy Sadie's and its patrons after seeing Trell, his son, who he had sent to the Arena and deemed dead. It is a humiliation to have Vertant off-spring. The band of Vertants led by Picar, Trell and Jami have escaped from the booths.
End of Previous Chapter
Internal fortitude builds as the remaining eleven, led by Picar, edge toward the alcove that leads to the Vertant dormitory.
Attention: Due to a glitch in the system Chapter 15: 'Revenge and Bravery' was not sent to my fans. Please read it first. Skip Chapter 16, also a glitch. And finally, continue with this one.
Chapter 17
Suddenly, there she is - Sadie, "Going somewhere, boys?" her claws and face bloody. A dripping particulate threatens but she hesitates, knowing the value of the property standing naked in front of her. My boys will never defy me. I've trained them and know them too well.
We can take her. There are eleven of us. Trell reaches behind him toward a pedestal where a large decorative gold nugget is displayed.
"Picar, Jami, take the rest of the boys to the dormitory. You'll be safe there," she chorts in a motherly tone through a crooked smile filled with razor sharp, flesh strewn warnings.
Jami, the senior boy who's been submissive for many years, begins to bow, as is his habit. Seeing all might be lost, Trell takes a daring chance and shoves Jami into Sadie's mid-section. As she bends forward, Trell pitches the massive gold nugget. The bulls-eye gashes her temple. Disoriented, Sadie stumbles.
Seeing the dagger, Trell leaps to rip it, scabbard and all from her waist. "Down with tyranny," he yells, holding the symbol high, and shakes it as a leader might toward each of his brothers needing courage.
No, not my relic. Blushing magenta-red from head to toe, Sadie staggers from the blow and feels for the side of a booth to steady her spinning perceptions, as she prepares to stand and spew any one of the hundreds of boys that rotate against the east wall like a pin wheel.
Sadie rubs her eye and aims her particulate at whatever ... guessing is her only option.
Braving the moment, Picar lunges forward and grabs Sadie's slender particulate in an attempt to control the direction of the deadly, crystal rain. "Run, my brothers, run," he orders. His muscles ripple with purpose. Gottcha, bitch!
"You, disobedient swine," she growls. Her claws hook into him, ripping his bare shoulder and buttock. Tumbling in their struggle, the flashing bundle of naked strength and betrayed anger rolls into an alcove of the dormitory hallway.
Clear acid spews, grazing Picar's cheek, and beyond, it kills a trio singer. With this warning, Trell shoves the others toward the atrium.
Picar's adrenalin rushes to strengthen him. "Your turn, Mistress." Tightening his grasp, he wrenches her thin sensory organ, turned weapon, in half. Torn threads and membranes squirm from Sadie's naris and twirl on the tattered end in his hand, as the fibers seek to reconnect. Fluk, I'm monster strong!
Picar throws the wreathing fibrous part of her far into the booth area. Fetch that, you decadent sow!
"Son of a Cobra!" she snarls.
Sadie, now defenseless, rushes to retrieve it. Just as the tubular fibers are about to wiggle into a pool of steaming acid, Sadie's hand reaches through her kaleidoscopic vision and holds it, safely in her hand.
The boys hurry along the wall toward the booth hall door. Jami rushes to the dormitory for a bowl of mold-blossom oil. When Picar catches up with the group, Jami dumps the oil on Picar's face to stop the acid's further damage. Gallantly scarred, he'll never be pretty again, but he will live to be honored.
Small Lem peeks out from another of his hiding spots. This time he's behind an ornate tall backed chair. Shaking his head, Trell grabs Lem's willing hand. "Hurry, boy. We're leaving."
In the booth area amidst the dead and dying, Sadie stands maimed, clutching her severed collector. Her glamour destroyed, shreds of gore waving from her naris, she growls, "Your life. I'll have your life. All of your lives!" She shakes the air with fury and waves a dripping defense as it spurts and sputters dry. Being female, only one of her particulates could weaponize. She is more vulnerable that before but not totally unarmed; she still has her teeth, claws and wit.
Trolious, his age and the ultimate degree of anger taking their tolls, leans against the west wall, depleted from his previous go round with Sadie. Hearing her threat, assuming that the walls echo it for him, he prepares to defend himself with only claws, teeth and a walking stick. The second battle, between the Prime One cousins nears.
As Milim unlocks the atrium's Main Entrance doors for the terrified, Vermel crowd, the small band of Vermels slips around the rear of the toppled Cobra. They slink hushed on bare feet, undetected, and sign rather than chort.
Picar, bleeding from Sadie's tears to his shouder and buttock, leans on Jami. "Picar, hang in there."
"I'm fine. Take care of the others, my cousin." Picar directs Trell.
"In here," Trell chorts. They all head for the Mural Room, hoping to find another exit.
In the Mural Room, Larue, a Vermel, protects Brackus. "Cover yourself with this." He gives the Vertant his jacket and with his arm around the young boy's shoulders heads toward the atrium.
Trell, with Lem in hand, is the first to see young Brackus with Larue and lifts the scabbard to draw its dagger.
"No, Trell, no." Brackus jumps in front of Larue.
Trell is noticeably confused. "But he's Vermel. Move aside. We are nine. He is but one!" The boys circle Larue.
"No." Brackus places a shaky hand Trell and his other on Larue's arm.
"I can help." Larue interjects.
"It's a trick," chorts Jami, "I've seen him many times before. He always takes a boy from the booths, always."
"I'm his only boy, now." Brackus reaches for Larue's hand.
"Oh, canuzs. I see. That's different." Jamie smiles at Picar.
"We don't have time for this. We have to get out of here," Trell chorts.
"My friends," Brackus turns to Larue, "help my friends," he pleads.
Larue nods and surveys the situation while Brackus tends to Picar's torn shoulder and buttocks. With practiced hands, he swiftly stitches and knots precisely.
With a scheme in mind, Larue directs the band to action. "Boys, gather those pelts," Larue points to the many pig skins scattered around the room, over chairs and along the walls, "and cover yourselves." The naked Vertants rush to gather them, holes are cut for heads to slip through, and ties are ripped for the waists. The bar-boys stand ready to join, making the band, now, a count of twenty.
"Put these around your wrists." Larue who has been rummaging in the guard's station cabinet returns with Brackus to distribute a set of captive-cuffs to each crouching Vertant.
"I have a bad feeling about this," Picar signs.
"We have no choice but to trust him," Jamie reasons.
"Staying is a death warrant named Sadie," Trell reminds them.
"And take these to cut yourselves free once we are safely outside and away from here." Larue hands Trell, Picar and Jami each a six-inch knife.
"See." Jami smiles at Picar, his eyes gleaming with hope.
"Now, march in line, submissively, heads down, behind me." Larue takes a deep breath, ready to exit the Mural Room.
"Where are you taking us?" A small one worries.
"Out the front door."
Suddenly, there's an unforeseen interruption. The sounds of scuffling feet and raucous laughter come from behind the mural wall. Two sweaty, disheveled and blood spattered guards walk into the room.
"And did you see her heart?"
"Yeah, yeah it beat longer than most." He opens and closes his hand. " Tha-thump, tha-thump ..."
"I counted to five before it ..." The large one stops in mid-sentence, catching sight of the strange entourage of pelt covered Vertants. "What the flaming hell above are you guys doing?"
Larue signals for the boys to remain still.
The clumsy guards pull their weapons. "Halt," they thwort in unison.
There sure are a bloody lot of them. The smaller guard counts twenty.
A figure, shorter and wider than the line of slim Vertants, steps forward and takes a broad stance. His upper society head held high, he takes a superior tone as he approaches the clueless duo.
"Do you know who you are speaking to? I'll have your jobs, if not your heads, for such insubordination!" Larue thrusts a blade-sharp clawed finger at each one and repeatedly pokes it into their fleshy chests.
"What are you doing with Sadie's property?" The larger guard continues his questioning dispite his blood dripping from a fresh puncture.
"You dare question me--Larue P. Darlit, Assistant of Ministerial Affairs?" Larue flashes his tattoo of authority on the outer side his thumb.
"Oh, sir. Sorry, sir." The big guy elbows his wandering-eye buddy and signs, "Shit!"
In an attempt to show a semblance of responsibility and competence, they attempt a formal salute. First they stomp twice with the left foot, then twice with the right. They stand as straight as scoliotic spines will allow and crossing their hands at the chest slap their shoulders four times. Hands swiftly to their sides, they stand, straight-faced, at a lopsided attention.
"I didn't see you clearly, sir ... too far away," The senior guard apologizes.
"Me either." The smaller bald one chimes in.
"I think you both could be of some assistance to me." Larue rubs his chin.
Picar kicks Jami. Trell feels sick to his stomach. Others begin to shiver.
"What can we do to help you with this rabble, sir?" The senior guard reaches over and cuffs Lem on the side of the head sending him rolling across the slick, pink marble floor.
"First of all, you won't damage any of Sadie's property!" Larue sends the guard a lethal stare.
"Sorry, I thought they were to be punished." His sadistic laugh flows with rancid, green drool.
"These rebellious mutants are going to Jacknel's holding area for the Warrior Games."
"Oh, um."
"Sadie's selling them for their part in this evening's disruption. They have been severely disobedient but must not be harmed. Damaged goods do not sell."
"Yes, sir." The two fidget and scratch crotches and arm-pits, noses and backsides. They cup their sticky hands to their faces and breathe in traces of Dyrel, slyly smiling at the recent memory. Lem takes note.
"Now, you," Larue points to the large sadistic one, distracting him from his revere, "go in front of the captives to lead their useless carcasses out." He winks at Brackus.
"Yes, sir. Assistant Minister, sir."
And pointing to the second, he continues in an authoritative tone. "And you, you follow behind to be sure none of Sadie's property wanders off."
"Excuse me, sir?" the puny one shuffles forward.
"What?" Larue raises his chin and takes a broad stance, noticeably annoyed, "Don't you understand simple direction?"
Clueless, only aware of his immediate needs, the small one asks, "May we have a drink first, sir?"
"Quickly then," Larue motions them toward the bar, "You have quite a walk to Jacknel's."
They flap their flat feet away from the line of unusually calm but apparently submissive Vertants. They are certain that all is well since they are now assisting a respected leader of the community, one next in line to the esteemed Trolious, himself.
A sigh travels the line of Vertant when the guard's backs are turned.
"Ready? Just trust me. Do as I say." Larue signs as the two guards drink a quick hit of green, share a mushroom toofie biscuit and stuff a hand full in each pocket.
The boys are ready to move.
"Guards, take your places." Toofie crumbs fall from the front of their uniforms and smoosh on the marble as they rush to their assigned positions in line.
Staunch in his resolve, Larue walks ahead of the prideful guard and marching line of pelted disobedients. Calmed by green elixer, the senior guard struts, leading the twenty pelted Vertants, silently in single file into the atrium. The little, goofy guard, munching on another toofie bar, barely keeps up, stumble-footing it behind.
The Vertants' wide-eyes stare down at the floor, watching it move one slow-tedious-step at a time, as tears fall onto its reflective marble.
Smelling the tears increases the lead guard's frothy slurping. The brazen bully teases, "Tears? Aww, so sowwry, cobra spawn." Trell clasps his hand over Lem's wail. Pleased that he is drawing a response, the bully continues taunting. "You of no courage will shed more than tears atJacknel's Warrior Games!" He begins to clap a marching rhythm." Come along, now. You know how to dance," his voice is sadistically tempting, piping them forward, "pick up your feet to your death."
Trell signs, "What an asshole." Brackus and Picar turn laughter into moans of regret and fear. Lem squeezes Jami's hand and the masquerade continues a steady, marked pace through the atrium.
Larue steps briskly through the macabre scene of the crushed and melted. He exits, forever, blending into the street crowd, he seem to be just another one of many single Vermel, out for the evening.
"Good evening, Mr. Larue."
"Good evening, Mr. Arnst."
| Author Notes |
Under Earth Species:
Vertant-the off-spring of two Vermel; looks human. Vermel-mutated humans who live in Under Earth; communicate via sign language and various sounds; noted by their single, particulate-collector naris; one eye; dark or red, coarse body hair; flat or twisted feet with three to six long toes; three fingered hands with long curving claw-like nails; pointed teeth in irregular, double rows; intelligent, but with strong base instincts. Particulate collector - a Vermel adaptation to living in a polluted underground; mutation ; porous tubular filaments; can extend from the naris in a searching fashion; they both taste and smell; alert to emotions of other species; Verdants may or may not have remnants, nodes in nasal pharynx tissue(back of throat). dissident-rebel, nonconformist, protester; somebody who publicly disagrees with an established political or religious system or organization. DRINKS & SMOKING Elixirs: Euphoric-Blue - arouses passion without arousing anger or fear Green - calms aggression and base tendencies to mutilate, kill, cannibalize Caramel-clarity(female enhancement) Ruby-rigidity (male enhancement) Fitzel- a carbonated alcoholic beverage; a light intoxication; makes one funny, silly, uninhibited, kind Smoking- usually a mix of madine and sedderthal Hallucinogenic fungi grown in Bellow City Fazil- a smoking or chewing compound that stains the teeth Arnag-a fungus grown as food; a favorite rubber-chew flavor LOCATIONS: Under Earth- a civilization that exists totally under ground; Vermel territory. Bellow City- located in Under Earth. Jacknel's Arena- where Hunter and Trell were trained and exploited as 'Man' and 'Man #2'. Club ErrOw- a dance club downstairs; Chambers for coupling are upstairs. Sadie's Palace - a night spot where Vertant males are displayed for Vermel viewing and pleasure; masterbation columns are very popular in the Mural Room as is the free elixir bar. Alitian - Sir Alitus was the atrium's designer CHARACTERS: Gima-a Vertant; rescued and raised by Hunter and Asmel Trell- a Vertant; raised by Vermel, escaped to Upper Earth; has not yet learned to speak but has learned to understand it from Gima, his mate. Blathen- Gima and Trell's Vermel son; single, particulate-collector naris, one eye; on the hierarchy of Vermel his appearance labels him a Prime-One. Zee-Gima's second son who looks human Hunter- Nigel once a business man in the city; was captured and tortured by Ticum to become 'Man' in Jacknel's Arena in Bellow City; 'Papa' to Gima; suffers from PTSD. Asmal- a survivalist; built a cabin in the mountains; rescued Hunter; raised Gima with Hunter; 'Papa-Azzy' to Gima Ticum-Vermel;Jacknel's Circus trainer; beat and tortured Hunter; deceased Trum- Vermel; Ticum's brother; Trell's trainer at Jacknel's Arena Sadie- runs a display and pleasure house featuring male Vertants. Milim - Sadie's assistant a Vermel Picar-Vertant at Sadie's Jami-Picar's Vertant lover; Sadie's favorite. Mr. Arnst- Trell's abusive uncle; now a caznu(neutered)and no longer abusive Rom- Arnst's younger companion, lover Disposal Officer- Designated by numbers e.g. DO-45, DO-50; executioners; but they sell their prisoners, usually Vertants, on the black-market to various shady characters like Jacknel and Sadie for use in sport, entertainment, pleasure and artificial insemination collection and sales. Trolious- Head of Ministerial Affairs Larue- Assistant of Ministerial Affairs; canzu(involuntarilly castrated by Dyrel whom he killed) Vermel Rolak- Chief Enforcement Officer Vermel speech/sounds: twortle-a sound pattern distinctive to the Vermel; a combination of glottal stops, tongue click-clucks and snorts; an assertive pattern. chort- throaty sounds varying in tonal inflection and duration; normal speech; he chorts=he says. toning- saying; using a series of sounds other than speech thrumping songs-songs Trell learned growing up in Bellow City, Under Earth; melodic, throaty, glottal. Vocabulary: particulate collector - a Vermel adaptation, mutation; porous tubular filaments; can extend from the naris in a searching fashion; they both taste and smell; alert to emotions of other species; Vertants may or may not have remnants; nodes in nasal pharynx tissue may be all that remain in Vertant. Arnag-a fungus grown as food; a favorite rubber-chew flavor Caznu-neutered male Vermel; usually gay and neutered by choice for the good of the gene pool by decree of Trolious ; castration is a common punishment regardless of sexual orientation. And-End - Amen Pernard- a Vermel curse Dangle- a Vermel penis; they have two dangles. Mintrinet - minute alum- short for aluminium; usually recycled cans; a valued metal. mold-blossom - a fungi; small, dark brown and caramel colored flowerettes cluster to form a large crysantehmum-type flower; its heavy, sweet decaying scent is used in perfumed oil. Events: Warrior Games - Under Earth competitions to the death; all are eligible, male, female, Vertant or Vermel; The odds are stacked in favor of the Vermel. |
By barkingdog
Dear Reader: 'Gima' has been listed as Sci-Fi Horror, actually it is Fantasy-Adventure-Horror, but there is no category for it on FanStory. I do not intend to offend anyone, but language and behaviors used are essential to the characters' and storyline contrasts. Scenes are meant to arouse a range of emotions. I hope that they do. The author notes' GLOSSARY is included by request. It's not a required part of the reading. It's merely to assist a new audience. Have fun reading. :) barking dog
Recent Backstory:
Trolious has spewed acid to destroy Sadie's and its patrons after seeing Trell, his son, who he had sent to the Arena and deemed dead. It is a humiliation for a Vermel to have Vertant off-spring. The band of Vertants led by Picar, Trell and Jami have escaped from the booths to the Mural Room where a Vermel named Larue is helping twenty Vertants escape.
End of Chapter 17
Larue walks ahead of the pelt-clad line of marching sham disobedients, as they file into the once glorious Cobra atrium which is now filled with puddles of acidic gore -- melted elite patrons of Sadie’s. Heads with horrific expression are the last to be dissolved and float atop what was earlier this evening the rest of them.
Larue exits, nonchalantly appearing to be another of many single Vermel, out for the evening.
“Good evening, Mr. Larue.”
“Good evening, Mr. Arnst.”
Chapter 18
The vermel guards receive priority and lead the vertant boys through the rapidly dwindling crowd. The maimed hobble out of Sadie's double-door entrance, down the front steps where many lay dying. A scattered few drag themselves to safety up the street.
“Move aside for the mutants who have caused all of this trouble.” The guards swat patrons who want to touch, taste or seek revenge. “Move aside. Let the captives pass.” Fortunately, the make-shift pigskin pelt ponchos armour the Vertants from sharp claws and curious sensory particulates, but Vermel anger remains.
“I knew it was a Vertant problem.”
“Sadie should be more careful than to let so many untrained mutants run free. She endangered us all.”
“Animals will attack if given the chance.”
“She swore they were all trained, dear.”
“They should all be chained to the floor.” Many nod and ah-hum in agreement.
“And, if you own one, beat it regularly.”
Free, free, free …Twenty minds all say the same thing as they pass one by one through the jeering crowd and out the double brass and glass doors onto the concrete-patched, cobble-stone street.
Outside, the smells of oil burning in the street lamps and sweet roast pig replaces the copper and acidic stench of Sadie’s. Many thoughts run through the silent vertant line.
Look … a street.
I want to cry out.
I smell food.
Am I really free?
Bow my head.
Be submissive.
Hush until it’s safe.
Shuffle along.
Slowly.
Patience.
The guards momentarily halt the march and chort loudly over the line of submissives.
“Mr. Larue, sir? Are you there, sir? Where’d he go, little buddy?”
“Dunno,” the rear buffoon answers, while his wandering eye jumps to distort his searching vision.
“Well, we’re here, now 'n I'm not goin' back in there."
"Me neither."
"We'll go on to Jacknel's.”
“He didn’t say so.”
“Yes, he did, weevil-head. That Larue guy said that this bunch was goin' to Ticum’s holding pens for the games. Sadie's orders. Remember?"
"Kinda."
"And that he needed our help to move 'em?”
“Oh, yeah. OK. Sure, sure, boss.” He pokes the nearest Vertant who yelps.
“And no damaging the merchandise, dangle-brain.” He threatens severe reprimand, branishing his large fist in the thick night air.
“Yes, sir. I didn’t hurt him permanent, sir.”
“Ready, guys?” The lead guard plods beside the line of twenty, knocking them in place with an extended metal probe. Trell, Picar and the others hang their heads to feign obedience and tighten the line’s order. “OK. Let’s move it out.”
The guards strut and nod at passers-by as they proceed with one guard in the rear, and the other leading the strange procession. They are quite the conversation piece.
“I wonder where they’re going.”
“Aren’t those the dangerous mutants from Sadie’s. I saw that one in Booth Eleven.”
“He’s Trolious’ offspring.”
“Hush, you’ll be killed for saying that. Shhh.”
“Shouldn’t there be more than two guards with so many prisoners?”
“They look calm enough, now.”
“Yeah, they probably dosed them on validium.”
The guards hear none of this. They’re lost in visions of posh nights on the town and succulent pig and truffle feasts. They walk along, proudly grinning, sure of the bruicks or possibly critons this duty will bring. Over-time pays very well.
Meanwhile, Larue meets with his long-time friend, Mr.Arnst, at the local canzu bar. Arnst’s been drinking fitzel with his young companion, Rom. Together they’ve come up with a plan.
Mr. Arnst, mumbling and stumbling with a bottle of fitzel, weaves along the line of pelt covered Vertants. He bumps into and winks at Trell on the way to the front of the line.
“Ossifer, I would like to buy that,” Burp! “that blonde one.” Arnst bumbles about, causing the procession to halt.
“Move, on. None are for sale.”
“Everything has its price.” Mr. Arnst opens a leather pouch brimming with critons. “How much," he glares, dropping his bottle, “for that one,” pointing to Trell. “I insist.”
In the dim light far to the rear, Larue and Rom pick off the other lackadaisical officer. With a silent slice his gullet sprays. Without a gasp, he slumps and is eased onto the stone walkway. Larue and Rom sign to Trell, Picar and Jami. “Cut your restraints.”
The fore-officer has decided what he wants Mr. Arnst to pay for Trell. He rubs his sweaty palms together and clicks, “How about …”
Trell, Picar and Jami leap like cats in the night, their blades drawn. They pounce with airborne magnificence on the sadistic front guard. The first, fatal strikes are to his eye, wide with surprise. Soon he is full of many small holes, as each boy is allowed his revenge.
Lem is given the honor of being first to dissect a trophy from the hunt. His shyness dissipates with a knife in his hand. His face ages with revenge for the brutal murder of his sister, Dyrel.
“Remove as many parts as you wish and do with them what you will.” Trell encourages Lem forward toward the corpse which is surrounded by crumbled toofie bars, the snacking guard's favorite. The other boys fidget waiting their turns.
“I’ll wear an ear.”
“A finger is mine.”
Lem straightens from stooping and no longer looks so small. Barefoot he strides over to and squats beside the last one to see his sister alive. Her scent is still on her tormentor. Lem smells the evidence of what he only heard and shakes with anger.
“My turn,” Lem clicks. He emits low menacing tonal growls as he rips open the guard’s frontal leather flap revealing a still churning double pouch.
The others move closer and crowd around.
“Go ahead, Lem.”
“Do it!”
Lem holds the knife like a craftsman and splits one side of the pouch then the other. Still alive, the exposed dangles withdraw to nowhere. Lem toys with them with the tip of his knife. They jump about reflexively when Lem's tears dilute their vermel blood. He wipes his childhood away, and with a smile of satisfaction, he cuts deep, to sever his trophies.
“Dyrel. For you, my sister. For you!” Lem, waving a severed limp organ in each hand, is satisfied. The boys cheer and pat him ceremoniously, as they move to take their turns at trophy disection.
Lem chooses only these two parts which he feeds bit by bit to a wandering stray, a well-groomed and expensively collared pet -- somebody’s ten-pound, white, Gambian rat.
Trell reads the purring rat’s collar-tags. “His name’s Petie, Lem.”
A bit of the boy returns, as Lem sits cross legged and calls, clicking, “Here, boy. Come on.”
Petie alerts to a familiar command and rushes over to Lem who pets him and teases him playfully. When Petie sits down, Lem rewards him with a chunk of fresh dangle. Panting attentively, Petie greedily sits up twitching his silver whiskers, begging for more. His small red eyes glimmer to match the slick blood on his fur, while he chomps heartily on a savory treat. The small juicy ones he gulps down whole followed by a wet, snorty sneeze. Finished, he licks his five-fingered paws clean, farts a thank-you and belches a straight toothy smile.
“Petie’s the only one who ever, really … liked that guard.” Larue’s crooked smile of double rows shows beneath his laughing chocolate eye.
Mr. Arnst’s belly jiggles him backwards with laughter. “Oh, oh, oooh.” He slips and bounces like a spring on his cushy Vermel backside. “Larue, my man. That’s a good one.”
Rom reaches to catch the old warrior but ends up falling beside him. “Oh my, what a motley sight we all are.”
“Yes, especially you two on your asses.”
“And us, the pig-pelted brigade.” Trell puts his thumbs in the belt of his make shift attire.
“ and him …” Lem points to Petie.
As nonchalantly as Petie had arrived, he waddles over, pisses on what’s left of the fore-guard, whips his tail in salute and goes on about his solitary evening stroll with one of the guard's toofie bars clutched between his teeth.
The group is near insanity with happiness, as the twenty Vertant boys join the three Vermel dissidents and laugh with tears of freedom.
| Author Notes |
UNDER EARTH SPECIES:
Vertant-the off-spring of two Vermel; looks human. Vermel-mutated humans who live in Under Earth; communicate via sign language and various sounds; noted by their single, particulate-collector naris; one eye; dark or red, coarse body hair; flat or twisted feet with three to six long toes; three fingered hands with long curving claw-like nails; pointed teeth in irregular, double rows; intelligent, but with strong base instincts. Particulate collector - a Vermel adaptation to living in a polluted underground; mutation ; porous tubular filaments; can extend from the naris in a searching fashion; they both taste and smell; alert to emotions of other species; Verdants may or may not have remnants, nodes in nasal pharynx tissue(back of throat). dissident-rebel, nonconformist, protester; somebody who publicly disagrees with an established political or religious system or organization. DRINKS & SMOKING Elixirs: Euphoric-Blue - arouses passion without arousing anger or fear Green - calms aggression and base tendencies to mutilate, kill, cannibalize Caramel-clarity(female enhancement) Ruby-rigidity (male enhancement) Fitzel- a carbonated alcoholic beverage; a light intoxication; makes one funny, silly, uninhibited, kind Smoking- usually a mix of madine and sedderthal Hallucinogenic fungi grown in Bellow City Fazil- a smoking or chewing compound that stains the teeth Arnag-a fungus grown as food; a favorite rubber-chew flavor LOCATIONS: Under Earth- a civilization that exists totally under ground; Vermel territory. Bellow City- located in Under Earth. Jacknel's Arena- where Hunter and Trell were trained and exploited as 'Man' and 'Man #2'. Club ErrOw- a dance club downstairs; Chambers for coupling are upstairs. Sadie's Palace - a night spot where Vertant males are displayed for Vermel viewing and pleasure; masterbation columns are very popular in the Mural Room as is the free elixir bar. Alitian - Sir Alitus was the atrium's designer CHARACTERS: Gima-a Vertant; rescued and raised by Hunter and Asmel Trell- a Vertant; raised by Vermel, escaped to Upper Earth; has not yet learned to speak but has learned to understand it from Gima, his mate. Blathen- Gima and Trell's Vermel son; single, particulate-collector naris, one eye; on the hierarchy of Vermel his appearance labels him a Prime-One. Zee-Gima's second son who looks human Hunter- Nigel once a business man in the city; was captured and tortured by Ticum to become 'Man' in Jacknel's Arena in Bellow City; 'Papa' to Gima; suffers from PTSD. Asmal- a survivalist; built a cabin in the mountains; rescued Hunter; raised Gima with Hunter; 'Papa-Azzy' to Gima Ticum-Vermel;Jacknel's Circus trainer; beat and tortured Hunter; deceased Trum- Vermel; Ticum's brother; Trell's trainer at Jacknel's Arena Sadie- runs a display and pleasure house featuring male Vertants. Milim - Sadie's assistant a Vermel Picar-Vertant at Sadie's Jami-Picar's Vertant lover; Sadie's favorite. Mr. Arnst- Trell's abusive uncle; now a caznu(neutered)and no longer abusive Rom- Arnst's younger companion, lover Disposal Officer- Designated by numbers e.g. DO-45, DO-50; executioners; but they sell their prisoners, usually Vertants, on the black-market to various shady characters like Jacknel and Sadie for use in sport, entertainment, pleasure and artificial insemination collection and sales. Trolious- Head of Ministerial Affairs Lida - Trolious' wife Larue- Assistant of Ministerial Affairs; canzu(involuntarilly castrated by Dyrel) Vermel Brackus- Larue's Vertant charge and lover Lem- the youngest Vertant to escape with Larue's help Rolak- Chief Enforcement Officer Vermel speech/sounds: twortle-a sound pattern distinctive to the Vermel; a combination of glottal stops, tongue click-clucks and snorts; an assertive pattern. chort- throaty sounds varying in tonal inflection and duration; normal speech; he chorts=he says. toning- saying; using a series of sounds other than speech thrumping songs-songs Trell learned growing up in Bellow City, Under Earth; melodic, throaty, glottal. Vocabulary: particulate collector - a Vermel adaptation, mutation; porous tubular filaments; can extend from the naris in a searching fashion; they both taste and smell; alert to emotions of other species; Vertants may or may not have remnants; nodes in nasal pharynx tissue may be all that remain in Vertant. Arnag-a fungus grown as food; a favorite rubber-chew flavor Caznu-neutered male Vermel; usually gay and neutered by choice for the good of the gene pool by decree of Trolious ; castration is a common punishment regardless of sexual orientation. And-End - Amen Pernard- a Vermel curse Dangle- a Vermel penis; they have two dangles. Mintrinet - minute alum- short for aluminium; usually recycled cans; a valued metal. mold-blossom - a fungi; small, dark brown and caramel colored flowerettes cluster to form a large crysantehmum-type flower; its heavy, sweet decaying scent is used in perfumed oil. Events: Warrior Games - Under Earth competitions to the death; all are eligible, male, female, Vertant or Vermel; The odds are stacked in favor of the Vermel. |
By barkingdog
Dear Reader: 'Gima' is Fantasy-Adventure-Horror, but there is no category for it on FanStory. I do not intend to offend anyone, but language and behaviors used are essential to the characters' and storyline contrasts. Scenes are meant to arouse a range of emotions. I hope that they do. The author notes' GLOSSARY is included by request. It's not a required part of the reading. It's merely to assist a new audience. Have fun reading. :) barking dog
Backstory:
Trell and the band of Vertants have escaped from Sadie's with the help of Larue, Mr. Arnst and Rom, Vermel dissidents.
End of Chapter 18
The group is near insanity with happiness, as the twenty Vertant boys join the three Vermel dissidents and laugh with tears of freedom.
Chapter 19
Every morning in Bellow City the local cadaver unit patrols the streets, picking up the dead. The guards' remains, stripped of their uniforms and their tattooed ID’s sliced away will go to Disposal as unidentifiable.
Sadie’s Pleasure Palace is in ruin: the booths shattered, her cobra smashed to the atrium floor and her relic stolen by the Vertant in Booth #11, the one named Trell. Sadie paces, inwardly vengeful, outwardly torn, with her severed particulate collector preserved in a jar of her own blood.
In a short while, Sadie’s mind clears. And first things first, she remembers: Jacknel's surgeon is always backstage at The Arena during the night games. Sadie hurries with her swimming p-collector blindly sloshing, waving for re-attachment.
Lida, Trolious’ wife, stands outside at the foot of the marble steps beside a bronze statue of a lion in repose. She waits and hopes for an end to her torment, knowing that the two Prime One cousins were battling it out inside. A smile broadens across her worn face when she sees Sadie exit the mayhem, seemingly unharmed, carrying a jar of she knows not what. He must be dead. Gods of our fathers, please answer my prayer.
But then her misery returns, Lida slumps, and her brownish-red complexion drains to gray when she sees that her husband, Trolious, though ripped and bleeding, has survived.
Even though Trolious lost this battle to Sadie’s voracious teeth and claws, he projects a sense of victory as he struts his exit through the death and destruction that his acid-spewing, vengeful tantrum caused. Trailing down at his side, as might a child's battered favorite toy, he clasps with his left hand the hand of his severed right arm. It may not be easy to re-attach. With this thought playing in mind, he smiles, looking forward to a metal prosthesis with multiple, made-to-order attachments.
Lida does not smile, as she steps to follow behind him in silence.
The night is young, and the streets are still full.
“We have time for Club ErrOw.”
“The bar is always open.”
“I’d enjoy a trip up the Highway … juicy Vertant females …” A single, eager male chorts.
Once called Jowly Puss, he now goes by Jowl. He whistles a calming tune while he twirls Honey Pot’s other ear-ring, which he grabbed when he used her to shield himself from Trolious’ acidic spew. He dropped her long before she began to melt, but still stiffens remembering her delicious screams. He has never been so ‘ready,’ as he is tonight.
“… juicy Vertant females …, and then when I’m done, I’ll …”
I wish that guy would shut up. Chort, chort, chort! The crowd speeds up, hoping to ditch him.
New distractions are always available in Bellow City. Tomorrow never misses the dead. New associations form, as easily as and routinely as a detached particulate collector is stitched into place, or a prosthesis is attached.
All are the same, or so many believe. Others are different.
“Boys, boys, you can’t stay here,” Mr. Arnst chorts. “This is Rom. He’ll take you through the tunnels to the others.”
“Others?” Jamie looks at Picar and signs.
And Trell chorts it aloud, “Others?”
Others echoes through the ranks, as Mr. Arnst, Larue and his vertant charge, Brackus, having said their good byes, walk away.
Rom steps forward into the flickering, oil-lamp light, wearing the rear guard's uniform. It’s a bit tight, but will do to validate their passage to any curious eyes. Adjusting a brown cap with its shiny metal insignia over his coral and green eye, he certainly looks the part of a spiffy, vermel officer.
“Yes. Many, many others. Now, hurry. We’ve wasted enough time. Follow me.”
Rom motions for the rag-tag band to jump down onto the track, and at a fast clip, they silently disappear into the darkness. Their escape continues past the stench of drainage pipes and the searing heat of bellowing steam vents toward the safety of the distant mazes of Tube City.
Bare feet pat light echoes through the tunnel …
******
In the Valley's meadow, Trell dreams and his feet remember … he sweats ... in the afternoon sun, remembering the heat of the tunnel, and the screech of its factory vents ...
Trell sleeps fitfully, thrashing about on the damp fescue and clover. Gima's cool hand rests on his shoulder. “Oh, God … Father… Trolious ...
Blathen’s particulate collector touches his father’s tears and rapidly withdraws. Blathen—the wolf slayer, the guardian—shows his first sign of fear as he reads this terror without a face. He reaches to protect his brother Zee from the unseen danger, but instead his uncontrollable claws instinctively extend and he clutches Zee's tender arm too tightly, inadvertently drawing blood.
Zee wails, waking to the initially, small punctures.
Trell's dream continues. Run Picar, Jami … Lem take my hand … Hurry, down the tracks … run.
Blathen tastes again and knows Trell’s pressing desperation. His claws sink deeper.
“Trelly, wake up.” Gima shakes Trell, “Please, wake up!”
But with Zee's arm impaled by Blathen, Gima can only kick Trell, sporadically, while she turns her attention toward the on-going frantic piercing with hopes of somehow detaching Blathen from his brother.
“Blathen, let go. You’re hurting Zee.” Blathen struggles to obey his mother and free himself. He looks confused. He doesn't want to hurt his brother, but his Vermel instinct fed by the particulate collector's sensing of Trell’s fear causes his curved claws to anchor deeper, stronger into Zee's tender flesh.
Zee screams with the sudden onslaught of the triple piercings’ pain. Deer stomp to run, and dozens of iridescent, purple-headed grackle take flight. Blathen’s claws hold firmly, as they have entered one side and exited the other, much like curved needles might suture a wound. Zee will never forget this; he will always carry the ‘Mark of Three’ which he now reaches to cover with his five.
Gima pushes the two boy’s arms together hoping to stop Zee’s flesh from tearing, and she begs, “Blathen, stop. Let go.” Tears flow and she sobs, "Please ... he's your brother."
She kicks Trell with purposeful might.
Blathen’s anxiously whipping collector-tube extends to rub through Zee’s blood and tears. It reads: Life-source and pain. His claws continue their locking closure against the palm of his hand. This offensive claw hold, designed to rip and tear the flesh and bone of a combatant that continues to resist, can dismember. Life-source and fear. Blathen’s eye grows wild, his magenta-red pumped body stiffens and his collector produces a sizzling drop of silver foam, acid's precursor.
“Blathen," a strong voice commands his attention, "release Zee at once. Your brother is not a conquest.” Trell's voice, a father’s voice is meaningful when it speaks to an instinctive allegiance. Blathen withdraws all weapons. His Father has spoken.
Gima’s incessant kicking, and his sons’ continuous competition for a who-can-cry-the-loudest award had finally roused Trell from memories of his band of friends and their escape from Sadie’s.
Father has returned. Blathen glows a brilliant smile, shows each of his pointy teeth in their double rows and clicks a throaty hello while reaching his hands up for a hug. "Father, me, me, up, up," he chorts.
“And what do you think you were doing to your brother?” Trell scowls, signing impatiently.
Blathen’s arms drop, and he squeezes his eye tight as he howls from the insult of rejection. He beats the ground and rolls hissing and grunting like a small red hedgehog in a tantrum.
Meanwhile in Gima’s arms, Zee whimpers, bleeding from his wounds. He pulls away and wails while Gima wraps his arm in leather straps from her vest.
“I need herbs for these wounds, Trelly.”
But in that same moment, Zee sees his father and reaches up like his brother had. Trell swoops his youngest up in the air. Zee giggles ecstatically, kicking his fat legs and wiggling all ten pink toes. Zee gasps with glee. Loving being tossed in the air, he waves his arms, small hands and fingers. A nearby boulder reflects the father and son's shadow story in the mid-afternoon’s warm light.
Blathen watches, but the waiting is too long. He figures being a clever copy-cat may turn this scene around. He takes a pose, trying to look as much like the helpless, infant Zee as possible, and his mimicry begins.
Blathen, feigning pitifully forlorn, rocks back and forth to Gima’s humming of ‘Frere Jaques,’ as he attempts to imitate Zee’s human whimpering by emitting small prolonged screeches and looking up with a pleading, though lopsided, pout. He tucks his hands under him to hide his claws, and using intense will-power, he holds his particulate collector inward.
"Screech, screech." Now, I wait.
Gima looks at Trell and he at her; and they smile as Trell walks over to scoop up, this the saddest of all of Upper Earth's off-spring, his first born, Prime One Vermel son, Blathen.
Copy-cat works. Blathen's eye dark-purple glimmers with satisfaction and knowledge.
The boys look at each other in a stand-off with their mutual trust in question over one’s fear and the other’s jealousy. Zee’s wonders why the warm furry one caused him pain. Blathen wonders: Will Father reject me again and chose the slow one?
Trell, feeling like a boy himself, holds his pride - Blathen and his joy - Zee and twirls to dizzily tumble all three of them to the ground. He tickles their tummies and shakes their legs and arms. Blathen's right leg; Zee's right leg. Blathen's left arm; Zee's left arm. So on and so forth. He chorts each body part instructionally, just as his Aunt Betta had done while raising him in Cindel City with his many vertant cousins.
Then spontaneously, Trell does a very human thing. He kisses both boys equally well. One kiss presses on a smooth forehead above two clear blue eyes, and the other presents to a wrinkled bit of red fuzz above a single dark orb.
Blathen blinks his dark eye that would never cry but wants to. More than ever, Blathen wants to do what the other three find so easy. He’s hopeful that since he has made the appropriate sounds to which his father did respond that he will someday also learn to cry. Content with this reasoning, for the time being, he reaches over and strokes Zee who reaches back, cautiously, with a hug.
“Now, let’s play.” Trell’s broad smile radiates over the entire Valley, and energized by family, he springs to his feet.
Love blows through the tall grass. Small animals peek out to resume their foraging and begin their melodic forest undercurrent.
Gima trusts Trell and questions nothing at this moment. Things are as they should be. I love you, Trelly—my everything.
Trell, the center of their universe, swoops Blathen, the previously screeching, drool-machine, up in the air. Blathen inhales a surprise and exhales Vermel tonal laughter. While waving his stubby arms and twisted feet, his Prime One mind catalogues this memory forever. Father, more … forever.
Trell takes Zee in his other arm, and as his sons stare in wonder, he spins again and again. Blathen’s collector slides toward a new tear, near his father’s eye. He tastes happiness and chorts loud comforting sounds. Zee hiccoughs, and as if timed perfectly, the boys pee simultaneously into the meadow as Trell turns round, and round, and round; faster and faster.
He’s a marvel … look at that … all three of them … mine. Gima laughs and claps her hands joining in the merriment.
Gima dodges her sons' warm spray and, moving quickly several steps backwards, falls to the ground laughing with happy contentment, enjoying her boys being boys.
| Author Notes |
Thank you MoonWillow for your lovely art, 'A Family of Four.'
UNDER EARTH SPECIES: Vertant-the off-spring of two Vermel; looks human. Vermel-mutated humans who live in Under Earth; communicate via sign language and various sounds; noted by their single, particulate-collector naris; one eye; dark or red, coarse body hair; flat or twisted feet with three to six long toes; three fingered hands with long curving claw-like nails; pointed teeth in irregular, double rows; intelligent, but with strong base instincts. Particulate collector - a Vermel adaptation to living in a polluted underground; mutation ; porous tubular filaments; can extend from the naris in a searching fashion; they both taste and smell; alert to emotions of other species; Vertants may or may not have remnant nodes in nasal pharynx tissue(back of throat). dissident-rebel, nonconformist, protester; somebody who publicly disagrees with an established political or religious system or organization. DRINKS & SMOKING Elixirs: Euphoric-Blue - arouses passion without arousing anger or fear Green - calms aggression and base tendencies to mutilate, kill, cannibalize Caramel-clarity(female enhancement) Ruby-rigidity (male enhancement) Fitzel- a carbonated alcoholic beverage; a light intoxication; makes one funny, silly, uninhibited, kind Smoking- usually a mix of madine and sedderthal Hallucinogenic fungi grown in Bellow City Fazil- a smoking or chewing compound that stains the teeth Arnag-a fungus grown as food; a favorite rubber-chew flavor LOCATIONS: Under Earth- a civilization that exists totally under ground; Vermel territory. Bellow City- located in Under Earth. Jacknel's Arena- where Hunter and Trell were trained and exploited as 'Man' and 'Man #2'. Club ErrOw- a dance club downstairs; Chambers for coupling are upstairs. Sadie's Palace - a night spot where Vertant males are displayed for Vermel viewing and pleasure; masterbation columns are very popular in the Mural Room as is the free elixir bar. Alitian - Sir Alitus was the atrium's designer CHARACTERS: Gima-a Vertant; rescued and raised by Hunter and Asmel Trell- a Vertant; raised by Vermel, escaped to Upper Earth; has not yet learned to speak but has learned to understand it from Gima, his mate. Blathen- Gima and Trell's Vermel son; single, particulate-collector naris, one eye; on the hierarchy of Vermel his appearance labels him a Prime-One. Zee-Gima's second son who looks human Hunter- Nigel once a business man in the city; was captured and tortured by Ticum to become 'Man' in Jacknel's Arena in Bellow City; 'Papa' to Gima; suffers from PTSD. Asmal- a survivalist; built a cabin in the mountains; rescued Hunter; raised Gima with Hunter; 'Papa-Azzy' to Gima Ticum-Vermel;Jacknel's Circus trainer; beat and tortured Hunter; deceased Trum- Vermel; Ticum's brother; Trell's trainer at Jacknel's Arena Sadie- runs a display and pleasure house featuring male Vertants. Milim - Sadie's assistant a Vermel Picar-Vertant at Sadie's Jami-Picar's Vertant lover; Sadie's favorite. Mr. Arnst- Trell's abusive uncle; now a caznu(neutered)and no longer abusive Rom- Arnst's younger companion, lover Disposal Officer- Designated by numbers e.g. DO-45, DO-50; executioners; but they sell their prisoners, usually Vertants, on the black-market to various shady characters like Jacknel and Sadie for use in sport, entertainment, pleasure and artificial insemination collection and sales. Trolious- Head of Ministerial Affairs; Trell's Father; Sadie's first cousin Lida - Trolious' wife Betta - Lida's sister in Cindel City Larue- Assistant of Ministerial Affairs; canzu(involuntarilly castrated by Dyrel) Vermel Brackus- Larue's Vertant charge and lover Lem- the youngest Vertant to escape with Larue's help Rolak- Chief Enforcement Officer Vermel speech/sounds: twortle-a sound pattern distinctive to the Vermel; a combination of glottal stops, tongue click-clucks and snorts; an assertive pattern. chort- throaty sounds varying in tonal inflection and duration; normal speech; he chorts=he says. toning- saying; using a series of sounds other than speech thrumping songs-songs Trell learned growing up in Bellow City, Under Earth; melodic, throaty, glottal. Vocabulary: particulate collector - a Vermel adaptation, mutation; porous tubular filaments; can extend from the naris in a searching fashion; they both taste and smell; alert to emotions of other species; Vertants may or may not have remnants; nodes in nasal pharynx tissue may be all that remain in Vertant. Arnag-a fungus grown as food; a favorite rubber-chew flavor Caznu-neutered male Vermel; usually gay and neutered by choice for the good of the gene pool by decree of Trolious ; castration is a common punishment regardless of sexual orientation. And-End - Amen Pernard- a Vermel curse Dangle- a Vermel penis; they have two dangles. Mintrinet - minute alum- short for aluminium; usually recycled cans; a valued metal. mold-blossom - a fungi; small, dark brown and caramel colored flowerettes cluster to form a large crysantehmum-type flower; its heavy, sweet decaying scent is used in perfumed oil. Events: Warrior Games - Under Earth competitions to the death; all are eligible, male, female, Vertant or Vermel; The odds are stacked in favor of the Vermel. |
By barkingdog
Dear Reader: The GLOSSARY is included by request. It's not a required part of the reading. It's merely to assist a new audience. Have fun reading. :) barking dog
Previously in Chapter 19:
The Vertant pair, Gima and Trell, and their sons Zee and Blathen, a Prime One Vermel, are in Apple Valley in the mid-afternoon. Earlier, Blathen had accidently pierced Zee's arm with his claws after sensing Trell's fearful memories. Then, Trell awoke and stopped Blathen's instinctive reaction to fear.
All is well, now. Gima watches Trell twirl, holding his son's in his arms.
Chapter 20
He’s a marvel … look at that … all three of them … mine.
Gima laughs freely, feeling like a young girl again, for the first time in a long while. She adds her voice to the merry celebration and sings a song about going 'round a mulberry bush. The golden-breasted meadowlark turns away from its search for grasshoppers, and the scrapping blue jays perch to listen as her voice weaves up through the leaves to meet and dance with the rays of the sun.
The song is one that Papa Hunter had taught her, long ago, after he and Papa Azzy had first taken her topside. His gentle face and the touch of his hands churn through her memories; she shakes her head to clear them and turns to Trell.
Trell’s eyes melt into hers, and his multiple deep tonings join her melody, but his mind also wanders and flashes to the days he spent as a youth with his many Vertant cousins in Cindel City. Those years with his Aunt Betta were filled with family moments, but they were never this carefree.
Below in the grayness, they were on guard, on alert to every strange footstep or knock at the door. They hid from Enforcement Officers who continually skulked about hoping to trap and impound Vertants for the State’s reward of 100 bruicks each. Or they ran from the filthy bounty hunters who searched for specific types—blondes with blue eyes, red-heads with green—ordered by private employers, Ticum’s enterprises or fertility laboratories.
Trell snaps back to the blue and green of the here and now when Gima touches his hand, and says, “Trelly, come dance with me.”
This tall stranger to Upper Earth has a love so powerful that it even makes the sunshine brighter. Trell glows a smile, and taking Gima’s hand, realizes how far things have come in the two year's time since meeting her.
My life is so much better here. I love this Valley and everything in it.
He enjoys the heat variations of the sun; no gray sameness of the tunnels below. He loves the open, limitless sky with its daytime blues, sunset variations and moon’s time table.
I can lie back, and the night’s eyes blink—watching me, watching them. There’s no oppressive metal ceilings; only vastness above me.
He loves the seasons, especially Winter. Its chill pinches him into realizing how truly alive he is. By watching his invisible life force freeze into a ghostly mist and disappear he understands fragility, temporary existence. The melting of ice and sprouts in the Spring show him a continuance, of which he is now a part. His engrained Vermel beliefs that justified a Vertant’s temporary subservient existence are totally defeated by Upper Earth's promise of renewal.
This is not like below where only the factory turbines were alive with a purpose, and I merely existed.
He loves the mysterious possibilities of what’s beyond the mountains. He has questions: Where does the water flow from the ice melt of winter? Knowing small streams meander to the river where torrents wear rocks smooth, he asks are there greater waters than this? Are there greater mountains than these? The possibilities set his mind spinning.
There must be so many places to go, to explore and to be happy.
He loves this girl, his wife, Gima.
I found her and took her from her human Papas. She bore my sons. She is my future.
Trell takes Gima's hand, and with these many thoughts spinning in his mind, they dance round and round the mulberry bush. Though only pretend, at this moment to them, it is real, for love’s magic plays its part.
Blathen sits, swaying from side to side, and lifts his head to add his best effort to the song, but his melody ends up sounding like a small, off-pitched oboe.
Zee turns with a quizzical look toward the unearthly, ear piercing tone and joins in with his own round, mellow ‘woooo’ which, after much slobbering, ends up producing a big, wet, translucent bubble.
With much playful woo-wooing and competitively loud off-pitched oboeing, the family quartet is complete. They are a sight and sound to behold. The four are a hodge podge of shapes, sizes, colors, movement and sounds—two dancing, one squirming, one swaying, one bubble-blowing, one collector-waving. And the sounds—high, low, woo and oboe—set the squirrels a chatter and the grazing deer to shake their ears in disbelief.
Mesmerized by Zee’s growing bubble, Blathen’s curiosity gets the best of him, and his dancing oboe-toning particulate collector bobs over to touch a shimmer of color, and pop, the translucent rainbow is silently, suddenly gone.
Simultaneously, a fine mist disperses. Startled, thinking that, now, he’d really done it and had actually broken his brother, Blathen looks down and pulls away.
But hearing Zee's continued cooing, Blathen looks up again and begins mirroring the emotions that he's gathered from the mist. Blathen feels and emits a true laugh. A crazy uproarious hee-haw of a laugh jiggles through his entire round body. His normally pursed lips pull back, and he opens wide, really, really wide, showing off his many small teeth and blue round-tipped tongue while splattering drool everywhere, snorting and hawing, gasping for air in an uncontrollable fit of laughter.
Overcome, Blathen looses his balance, topples to the side and rolls into a ball.
Whatever this is, it’s making my stomach hurt, and I can’t stop. I may like this … whatever it is.
Zee giggles at his brother’s funny laugh and expression. It’s a different face, a one-eye lopsided one, unlike Trell and Gima’s symmetrical two-eyed ones. He likes Blathen’s ‘funny’ face—its reddish plump, rising and falling cheek pouches and low, fuzzy forehead. He even likes that twisty thing that comes waving out of its off-center hole to touch him. He’s very curious about that part of Blathen. Zee has searched and searched and has not been able to find his own twisty thing.
Trell and Gima laugh at Blathen's loss of control and the sight of an infant Vermel quite successfully mirroring human expressions.
As if activated by a reset button, Blathen sits up in regal silence; his lips sealed in control.
They laugh at me? I am not a fool to be ridiculed. The no-talented, bald one is the fool.
******
The forest animals scurry to take cover and watch while two humans cross their pristine territory.
“We‘re making good time, Hunter. We’ll be in the cabin by nightfall,” Asmel affirms, leading the way.
Hunter slowly plods along behind. He pushes through the dense underbrush with his walking stick and past the bramble patch of blackberry bushes which seems to animate by reaching out and grabbing his clothes to wound a warning--Go back, leave.
The woods are shaded from the heat of the day, but the air is heavy with humidity that carries the scent of decayed leaves, fresh-green crushed underfoot, honeysuckle and now blood on the brambles.
Bees are busy with their work as well as joining nature's protesting attempt to chase away these beastly, sweaty intruders.
“Blasted bees.” Asmel swats, sprinting forward. “Hunter, why so quiet?” Asmel, not waiting for an answer, eagerly moves on ahead towards a familiar clearing.
Sweat drips from Hunter’s nose. He’s pale. His unsteady steps crack a fallen oak branch, and the break echoes through the quiet mid-afternoon forest. A two-point buck in a nearby thicket startles and runs toward the clearing, followed by three young females and their spindly-legged twin fawns.
“The Valley’s just ahead.” Asmel quickens his pace. “And we’ve plenty of daylight left.”
“Whoa up.” Hunter drops his walking stick, startling a ground-nesting thrush that flutters upward.
Hunter slumps to sit on an oak stump. As he wipes his brow, he scans the expansive valley and spots movement. Sweat blurs his vision, but there they are—two images, two lean bodies bobbing up and down on the horizon toward the rising mountains. He makes no mention of it.
I need to know Azzy won't kill her. Man, this fever has me seeing double.
Hunter rubs his eyes for a second look, just when Asmel blocks the view.
******
Trell and Gima run through the tall fescue and oat grasses. Merriment and bonding fill the far side of the valley and the edge of the forest there relaxes back, unthreatened.
It’s a simple existence. Sparrow nestlings try their wings, as their mother encourages them onto an overhanging oak branch. A spotted fawn splashes to meet its mother across the shallow stream beyond the wolf-strewn cabin. And frisky, young squirrels, performing acrobatics in high branches, chatter over hoarded and stolen treasure.
Tan, shiny with sweat, Trell plops down on the wild oats growing near a patch of tall ripening corn. Blathen and Zee roll close, tight beside him. Gima, arms waving like a gangly scarecrow, jumps through the nearby corn, gathering as she goes. She runs to her ‘boys,’ chanting 'gonna git cha, git cha, git cha,' and lands on top of the pile to deliver hugs, kisses and a meal of fresh juicy gold.
Blathen senses that this is a different kind of joy based on something intangible. It’s not a joy based on pain or fear which he’s catalogued many times, understands and relishes. He stores this new sensation in his ‘wondering place’ without any hierarchical comparison to the other ‘joy’ entries. All things are equally retrievable as mere facts collected for future use. The key word with a Vermel is ‘use.’
Zee forgets the pain that Blathen had caused him. His arm, still wrapped in Gima's leather, only aches when he moves it. He coos and accepts that this is the way things are, and that’s enough for now. Blathen tastes Zee's contentment – another emotion to catalogue and somehow, he figures, it’s related to the unnamed joy in his mind’s ‘wondering place.’
While Gima and Trell are playfully tossing corn silk and husks at one another, Zee, his eyes half-closed and their lids growing heavy, gums an unmarred corn cob.
Blathen clutches his well gnawed one, eye wide open, and ponders: Why can’t I learn things that seem to come so easily to the lesser, pale, slow one? He seems to like what I find boring and tedious. Like now, I bet he doesn’t even smell that small furry delicious one in its hole, or the bright–eyed noisy meal in that tree. I am somehow very different from my brother. But we all are alike in our enjoyment of this thing called corn.
Blathen takes another ear of corn from his father and snuggles close to Gima. His alert eye darts back and forth from the hiding place of one, to the scampering antics of another. His claws extend into the cob, and as kernels drip juice, he halves it with one swift bite.
Trell knows what he has on his hands with this one, his first born, and stoops to watch the killing of a corncob.
Gima and Zee are already asleep.
*******
“Azzy, go on without me.”
“No, get your ass up. I can feel it. We’re close to finding them. We can’t stop and lose daylight just because you’re tired, pussy-boy. Buck up … Get up.”
“I can’t.” Hunter removes a bloody left boot, tossing it at Asmel. “I bloody well can’t!”
“Shit, Nigel. Shit. How long?” He waves the putrid smelling boot in the air.
“Miles ago … Yesterday.”
“Are you, suicidal?” Asmel throws the stench aside. “Let’s have a look, then.” Azzy reaches for the most unpleasant looking foot he’s ever seen and mutters profanities while shaking his head. I should’ve known that he couldn’t take this hike on those feet—Ticum’s target practice. Damn, I’m such an idiot.
Inspecting Hunter's blistered, torn foot Asmel confirms, “You’re not going anywhere on this, Nigel!”
“But, but …” Hunter stands on one foot and hops. “See, I can …” He stumbles on a root and flinches with pain as Asmel catches him in mid-fall.
“No buts. Final word. Sit.” Asmel reaches for his medicinal bag. “We’ll pick her trail up, tomorrow."
Hunter nods. "Have a go, then." He holds his knee, steadying for more pain as Azzy opens a water pouch.
Asmel stoops and looks, skeptically, at the pink mix of pus and blood seeping from where there had once been a toe, and he surmises, "... or the next day. But first things first.”
Hunter grits his teeth and peers over Asmel's shoulder. The silhouettes toward the horizon have disappeared.
| Author Notes |
I would like to thank Dr.CArt222 for his art 'Season of the Dance.'
UNDER EARTH SPECIES: Vertant-the off-spring of two Vermel; looks human. Vermel-mutated humans who live in Under Earth; communicate via sign language and various sounds; noted by their single, particulate-collector naris; one eye; dark or red, coarse body hair; flat or twisted feet with three to six long toes; three fingered hands with long curving claw-like nails; pointed teeth in irregular, double rows; intelligent, but with strong base instincts. Particulate collector - a Vermel adaptation to living in a polluted underground; mutation ; porous tubular filaments; can extend from the naris in a searching fashion; they both taste and smell; alert to emotions of other species; Vertants may or may not have remnant nodes in nasal pharynx tissue(back of throat). dissident-rebel, nonconformist, protester; somebody who publicly disagrees with an established political or religious system or organization. DRINKS & SMOKING Elixirs: Euphoric-Blue - arouses passion without arousing anger or fear Green - calms aggression and base tendencies to mutilate, kill, cannibalize Caramel-clarity(female enhancement) Ruby-rigidity (male enhancement) Fitzel- a carbonated alcoholic beverage; a light intoxication; makes one funny, silly, uninhibited, kind Smoking- usually a mix of madine and sedderthal Hallucinogenic fungi grown in Bellow City Fazil- a smoking or chewing compound that stains the teeth Arnag-a fungus grown as food; a favorite rubber-chew flavor LOCATIONS: Under Earth- a civilization that exists totally under ground; Vermel territory. Bellow City- located in Under Earth. Jacknel's Arena- where Hunter and Trell were trained and exploited as 'Man' and 'Man #2'. Club ErrOw- a dance club downstairs; Chambers for coupling are upstairs. Sadie's Palace - a night spot where Vertant males are displayed for Vermel viewing and pleasure; masterbation columns are very popular in the Mural Room as is the free elixir bar. Alitian - Sir Alitus was the atrium's designer CHARACTERS: Gima-a Vertant; rescued and raised by Hunter and Asmel Trell- a Vertant; raised by Vermel, escaped to Upper Earth; has not yet learned to speak but has learned to understand it from Gima, his mate. Blathen- Gima and Trell's Vermel son; single, particulate-collector naris, one eye; on the hierarchy of Vermel his appearance labels him a Prime-One. Zee-Gima's second son who looks human Hunter- Nigel once a business man in the city; was captured and tortured by Ticum to become 'Man' in Jacknel's Arena in Bellow City; 'Papa' to Gima; suffers from PTSD. Asmal- a survivalist; built a cabin in the mountains; rescued Hunter; raised Gima with Hunter; 'Papa-Azzy' to Gima Ticum-Vermel;Jacknel's Circus trainer; beat and tortured Hunter; deceased Trum- Vermel; Ticum's brother; Trell's trainer at Jacknel's Arena Sadie- runs a display and pleasure house featuring male Vertants. Milim - Sadie's assistant a Vermel Picar-Vertant at Sadie's Jami-Picar's Vertant lover; Sadie's favorite. Mr. Arnst- Trell's abusive uncle; now a caznu(neutered)and no longer abusive Rom- Arnst's younger companion, lover Disposal Officer- Designated by numbers e.g. DO-45, DO-50; executioners; but they sell their prisoners, usually Vertants, on the black-market to various shady characters like Jacknel and Sadie for use in sport, entertainment, pleasure and artificial insemination collection and sales. Trolious- Head of Ministerial Affairs; Trell's father; Sadie's first cousin Lida - Trolious' wife; Trell's mother Betta - Lida's sister in Cindel City; raised Trell Larue- Assistant of Ministerial Affairs; canzu(involuntarilly castrated by Dyrel) Vermel Brackus- Larue's Vertant charge and lover Lem- the youngest Vertant to escape with Larue's help Rolak- Chief Enforcement Officer Vermel speech/sounds: twortle-a sound pattern distinctive to the Vermel; a combination of glottal stops, tongue click-clucks and snorts; an assertive pattern. chort- throaty sounds varying in tonal inflection and duration; normal speech; he chorts=he says. toning- saying; using a series of sounds other than speech thrumping songs-songs Trell learned growing up in Bellow City, Under Earth; melodic, throaty, glottal. Vocabulary: particulate collector - a Vermel adaptation, mutation; porous tubular filaments; can extend from the naris in a searching fashion; they both taste and smell; alert to emotions of other species; Vertants may or may not have remnants; nodes in nasal pharynx tissue may be all that remain in Vertant. Arnag-a fungus grown as food; a favorite rubber-chew flavor Caznu-neutered male Vermel; usually gay and neutered by choice for the good of the gene pool by decree of Trolious ; castration is a common punishment regardless of sexual orientation. And-End - Amen Pernard- a Vermel curse Dangle- a Vermel penis; they have two dangles. Mintrinet - minute alum- short for aluminium; usually recycled cans; a valued metal. mold-blossom - a fungi; small, dark brown and caramel colored flowerettes cluster to form a large crysantehmum-type flower; its heavy, sweet decaying scent is used in perfumed oil. Events: Warrior Games - Under Earth competitions to the death; all are eligible, male, female, Vertant or Vermel; The odds are stacked in favor of the Vermel. |
By barkingdog
| Author Notes |
I would like to thank Martyleo for his 'Flutter Butterfly.'
echinacea - an herbal remedy prepared from the pulverized leaves and stems of purple coneflowers, thought to bolster the immune system. UNDER EARTH SPECIES: Vertant-the off-spring of two Vermel; looks human. Vermel-mutated humans who live in Under Earth; communicate via sign language and various sounds; noted by their single, particulate-collector naris; one eye; dark or red, coarse body hair; flat or twisted feet with three to six long toes; three fingered hands with long curving claw-like nails; pointed teeth in irregular, double rows; intelligent, but with strong base instincts. Particulate collector - a Vermel adaptation to living in a polluted underground; mutation ; porous tubular filaments; can extend from the naris in a searching fashion; they both taste and smell; alert to emotions of other species; Vertants may or may not have remnant nodes in nasal pharynx tissue(back of throat). dissident-rebel, nonconformist, protester; somebody who publicly disagrees with an established political or religious system or organization. DRINKS & SMOKING Elixirs: Euphoric-Blue - arouses passion without arousing anger or fear Green - calms aggression and base tendencies to mutilate, kill, cannibalize Caramel-clarity(female enhancement) Ruby-rigidity (male enhancement) Fitzel- a carbonated alcoholic beverage; a light intoxication; makes one funny, silly, uninhibited, kind Smoking- usually a mix of madine and sedderthal Hallucinogenic fungi grown in Bellow City Fazil- a smoking or chewing compound that stains the teeth Arnag-a fungus grown as food; a favorite rubber-chew flavor LOCATIONS: Under Earth- a civilization that exists totally under ground; Vermel territory. Bellow City- located in Under Earth. Jacknel's Arena- where Hunter and Trell were trained and exploited as 'Man' and 'Man #2'. Club ErrOw- a dance club downstairs; Chambers for coupling are upstairs. Sadie's Palace - a night spot where Vertant males are displayed for Vermel viewing and pleasure; masterbation columns are very popular in the Mural Room as is the free elixir bar. Alitian - Sir Alitus was the atrium's designer CHARACTERS: Gima-a Vertant; rescued and raised by Hunter and Asmel Trell- a Vertant; raised by Vermel, escaped to Upper Earth; has not yet learned to speak but has learned to understand it from Gima, his mate. Blathen- Gima and Trell's Vermel son; single, particulate-collector naris, one eye; on the hierarchy of Vermel his appearance labels him a Prime-One. Zee-Gima's second son who looks human Hunter- Nigel once a business man in the city; was captured and tortured by Ticum to become 'Man' in Jacknel's Arena in Bellow City; 'Papa' to Gima; suffers from PTSD. Asmal- a survivalist; built a cabin in the mountains; rescued Hunter; raised Gima with Hunter; 'Papa-Azzy' to Gima Ticum-Vermel;Jacknel's Circus trainer; beat and tortured Hunter; deceased Trum- Vermel; Ticum's brother; Trell's trainer at Jacknel's Arena Sadie- runs a display and pleasure house featuring male Vertants. Milim - Sadie's assistant a Vermel Picar-Vertant at Sadie's Jami-Picar's Vertant lover; Sadie's favorite. Mr. Arnst- Trell's abusive uncle; now a caznu(neutered)and no longer abusive Rom- Arnst's younger companion, lover Disposal Officer- Designated by numbers e.g. DO-45, DO-50; executioners; but they sell their prisoners, usually Vertants, on the black-market to various shady characters like Jacknel and Sadie for use in sport, entertainment, pleasure and artificial insemination collection and sales. Trolious- Head of Ministerial Affairs; Trell's father; Sadie's first cousin Lida - Trolious' wife; Trell's mother Betta - Lida's sister in Cindel City; raised Trell Larue- Assistant of Ministerial Affairs; canzu(involuntarilly castrated by Dyrel) Vermel Brackus- Larue's Vertant charge and lover Lem- the youngest Vertant to escape with Larue's help Rolak- Chief Enforcement Officer Vermel speech/sounds: twortle-a sound pattern distinctive to the Vermel; a combination of glottal stops, tongue click-clucks and snorts; an assertive pattern. chort- throaty sounds varying in tonal inflection and duration; normal speech; he chorts=he says. toning- saying; using a series of sounds other than speech thrumping songs-songs Trell learned growing up in Bellow City, Under Earth; melodic, throaty, glottal. Vocabulary: particulate collector - a Vermel adaptation, mutation; porous tubular filaments; can extend from the naris in a searching fashion; they both taste and smell; alert to emotions of other species; Vertants may or may not have remnants; nodes in nasal pharynx tissue may be all that remain in Vertant. Arnag-a fungus grown as food; a favorite rubber-chew flavor Caznu-neutered male Vermel; usually gay and neutered by choice for the good of the gene pool by decree of Trolious ; castration is a common punishment regardless of sexual orientation. And-End - Amen Pernard- a Vermel curse Dangle- a Vermel penis; they have two dangles. Mintrinet - minute alum- short for aluminium; usually recycled cans; a valued metal. mold-blossom - a fungi; small, dark brown and caramel colored flowerettes cluster to form a large crysantehmum-type flower; its heavy, sweet decaying scent is used in perfumed oil. Events: Warrior Games - Under Earth competitions to the death; all are eligible, male, female, Vertant or Vermel; The odds are stacked in favor of the Vermel. |
By barkingdog
Dear Reader: The GLOSSARY is included by request. It's not a required part of the reading. It's merely to assist a new audience. I have added information on herbal remedies for this chapter. Have fun reading. :) barking dog
Previously in Chapter 21:
| Author Notes |
I would like to thank Lorac 1 for his 'Bear Display.'
HERBAL INFORMATION: ECHINACEA- an herbal remedy prepared from the pulverized leaves and stems of purple coneflowers, thought to bolster the immune system; Echinacea (E. purpurea, angustifolia, pallida), while more famous for its immune-enhancing properties, was used topically by Native Americans and white settlers to heal wounds, insect stings, and snake bites. Scientific studies confirm that plant extracts are anti-inflammatory and hasten skin repair. Chemical constituents of echinacea also protect collagen (the protein that gives skin its strength) from free radical damage, as can happen after exposure to ultraviolet light. The plant also inhibits hyaluronidase, an enzyme that digests connective tissue (including the gel-like matrix in the deeper layers of the skin). Theoretically, inhibit of this enzyme can help keep that skin Jello intact, retard the spread of toxins through tissues, and keep tissues from leaking fluids (as happens after a bee sting). Echinacea also has some activity against bacterial and fungi. http://www.herbco.com/t-herbs-for-skin.aspx MARIGOLD: The marigold plant acts as an anti-inflammatory and soothing agent, helping to reduce inflammation due to irritation, pain and swelling. By speeding up healing time, the marigold also protects against bacterial infection when used on burns, stings and other inflammation of the body or on the skin. Marigold can be used on any inflamed or infected skin, and even aids in reducing varicose ulcers. A compress of marigold flowers is used on irritated and inflamed skin, while a juice made from marigold leaves can be used to heal warts. Marigold juice may be made not only from leaves, but from stems and flowers as well. Sponsored Links Read more: Marigolds Used for Health | eHow.com http://www.ehow.com/info_8085116_marigolds-used-health.html#ixzz1p8jDEpJr Create a lotion by cooking fresh marigold flowers in preheated lard. After stirring, leave the mixture overnight and reheat before straining into a jar to be used to soothe skin irritations such as burns. COMFREY root is often added to this mixture for added healing benefits Read more: Marigolds Used for Health | eHow.com http://www.ehow.com/info_8085116_marigolds-used-health.html#ixzz1p8jZPYtQ COMFREY: One of the most common uses of Comfrey extract is as a skin treatment. The plant contains the small organic molecule allantoin, which is thought to stimulate cell growth and repair while simultaneously depressing inflammation From the Univ. of Maryland Med. Center as sited on Wikipedia UNDER EARTH SPECIES: Vertant-the off-spring of two Vermel; looks human. Vermel-mutated humans who live in Under Earth; communicate via sign language and various sounds; noted by their single, particulate-collector naris; one eye; dark or red, coarse body hair; flat or twisted feet with three to six long toes; three fingered hands with long curving claw-like nails; pointed teeth in irregular, double rows; intelligent, but with strong base instincts. Particulate collector - a Vermel adaptation to living in a polluted underground; mutation ; porous tubular filaments; can extend from the naris in a searching fashion; they both taste and smell; alert to emotions of other species; Vertants may or may not have remnant nodes in nasal pharynx tissue(back of throat). dissident-rebel, nonconformist, protester; somebody who publicly disagrees with an established political or religious system or organization. DRINKS & SMOKING Elixirs: Euphoric-Blue - arouses passion without arousing anger or fear Green - calms aggression and base tendencies to mutilate, kill, cannibalize Caramel-clarity(female enhancement) Ruby-rigidity (male enhancement) Fitzel- a carbonated alcoholic beverage; a light intoxication; makes one funny, silly, uninhibited, kind Smoking- usually a mix of madine and sedderthal Hallucinogenic fungi grown in Bellow City Fazil- a smoking or chewing compound that stains the teeth Arnag-a fungus grown as food; a favorite rubber-chew flavor LOCATIONS: Under Earth- a civilization that exists totally under ground; Vermel territory. Bellow City- located in Under Earth. Jacknel's Arena- where Hunter and Trell were trained and exploited as 'Man' and 'Man #2'. Club ErrOw- a dance club downstairs; Chambers for coupling are upstairs. Sadie's Palace - a night spot where Vertant males are displayed for Vermel viewing and pleasure; masterbation columns are very popular in the Mural Room as is the free elixir bar. Alitian - Sir Alitus was the atrium's designer CHARACTERS: Gima-a Vertant; rescued and raised by Hunter and Asmel Trell- a Vertant; raised by Vermel, escaped to Upper Earth; has not yet learned to speak but has learned to understand it from Gima, his mate. Blathen- Gima and Trell's Vermel son; single, particulate-collector naris, one eye; on the hierarchy of Vermel his appearance labels him a Prime-One. Zee-Gima's second son who looks human Hunter- Nigel once a business man in the city; was captured and tortured by Ticum to become 'Man' in Jacknel's Arena in Bellow City; 'Papa' to Gima; suffers from PTSD. Asmal- a survivalist; built a cabin in the mountains; rescued Hunter; raised Gima with Hunter; 'Papa-Azzy' to Gima Ticum-Vermel;Jacknel's Circus trainer; beat and tortured Hunter; deceased Trum- Vermel; Ticum's brother; Trell's trainer at Jacknel's Arena Sadie- runs a display and pleasure house featuring male Vertants. Milim - Sadie's assistant a Vermel Picar-Vertant at Sadie's Jami-Picar's Vertant lover; Sadie's favorite. Mr. Arnst- Trell's abusive uncle; now a caznu(neutered)and no longer abusive Rom- Arnst's younger companion, lover Disposal Officer- Designated by numbers e.g. DO-45, DO-50; executioners; but they sell their prisoners, usually Vertants, on the black-market to various shady characters like Jacknel and Sadie for use in sport, entertainment, pleasure and artificial insemination collection and sales. Trolious- Head of Ministerial Affairs; Trell's father; Sadie's first cousin Lida - Trolious' wife; Trell's mother Betta - Lida's sister in Cindel City; raised Trell Larue- Assistant of Ministerial Affairs; canzu(involuntarilly castrated by Dyrel) Vermel Brackus- Larue's Vertant charge and lover Lem- the youngest Vertant to escape with Larue's help Rolak- Chief Enforcement Officer Vermel speech/sounds: twortle-a sound pattern distinctive to the Vermel; a combination of glottal stops, tongue click-clucks and snorts; an assertive pattern. chort- throaty sounds varying in tonal inflection and duration; normal speech; he chorts=he says. toning- saying; using a series of sounds other than speech thrumping songs-songs Trell learned growing up in Bellow City, Under Earth; melodic, throaty, glottal. Vocabulary: particulate collector - a Vermel adaptation, mutation; porous tubular filaments; can extend from the naris in a searching fashion; they both taste and smell; alert to emotions of other species; Vertants may or may not have remnants; nodes in nasal pharynx tissue may be all that remain in Vertant. Arnag-a fungus grown as food; a favorite rubber-chew flavor Caznu-neutered male Vermel; usually gay and neutered by choice for the good of the gene pool by decree of Trolious ; castration is a common punishment regardless of sexual orientation. And-End - Amen Pernard- a Vermel curse Dangle- a Vermel penis; they have two dangles. Mintrinet - minute alum- short for aluminium; usually recycled cans; a valued metal. mold-blossom - a fungi; small, dark brown and caramel colored flowerettes cluster to form a large crysantehmum-type flower; its heavy, sweet decaying scent is used in perfumed oil. |
By barkingdog
Dear Reader: The GLOSSARY is included by request. It's not a required part of the reading. It's merely to assist a new audience. I have added information on herbal remedies for this chapter. Have fun reading. :) barking dog
Previously in Chapter 22:
Asmel was attacked by a brown bear and lies on the east trail.
A fire started in the east forest clearing because Hunter fell asleep, leaving his campfire unattended. Gima and Trell rescued Hunter from the fire and carried him to the stream on the north side of the Valley. He is still unconscious.
To Trell's dismay, Gima left him to tend to Blathen, Zee and Hunter while she gathers herbs for Hunter's wounds.
"Tell me, and I'll go," signs Trell.
"I'll be faster. You can protect them." She motions toward the three. In response to Trell's worried expression she laughs, "I'll be fine." She kisses him quickly and runs north, her tall boots splashing across the rocky shallows of the stream.
Trell watches her fade into the forest.
He sighs, kicks the ground, and taking out his knife, cuts several twigs from the willow tree swaying overhead. He leans back against it and begins whittling small whistles to entertain his boys—Blathen, the snoring, drooling lieutenant and Zee, the quiet one.
CHAPTER 23
Lost in delirium, Hunter’s body quivers from fever and he mumbles, “Azzy … sorry ... Azzy.” Over and over, he repeats the apology as his face contorts with pain and worry.
Hunter’s mind plays memories of Gima at the Ox Bow River campsite. One moment she's the clever, agile child, swimming to cool depths in the green summer river and surfacing with a ‘browny’ from its hiding place in the rocky outcrops or fallen log’s shadows; and in another, she's climbing to the tallest branches of the great oak to spot distant game too far for the human eye to see. He never told Asmel about any of this.
These behaviors set her apart from them and verified her as Vertant. He couldn’t face the fact that this rare Under Earth beauty, whom they'd rescued from Subby Side, might be anything but human.
"Gima," Hunter sputters through burn-blistered lips. “Gima?” He drifts deeper into unconsciousness, his breathing shallow and life signs minimal.
Trell watches the man Gima calls Papa Nigel.
Then he traces his vermel culture’s symbols in the dirt with his knife. He doesn’t like the way he feels; his insides are tied up in knots. Tossing the, once important, whistle project down at the base of the willow tree, he paces, trying to think.
A number of things come to mind. I have a bond with this human. Trell walks toward the stream and looks back, remembering Hunter's scarred back. Both of us tortured by Ticum.
His clear blue eyes follow several leaves drifting on the current, bobbing along their merry way to who knows where. He stoops to pick up a hand full of smooth vari-colored pebbles from the water’s edge only to throw them briskly back. We are all very different, yet here together.
His mind holds only one thought as he walks back: Gima cares for this human.
Trell circles. His deer skin clad feet nudge Hunter's side. Tension tightens across his back. Twisting to stretch at the waist, Trell looks down at the insignificant, by Under Earth standards, human whose life is dwindling away right in front of his eyes. Its blistered wounds seep life’s clear fluid. Trell moves to the right, prods Hunter’s swollen foot, and clicks in harsh Vermel, “Let death have it.” He kicks leaf debris toward the non-responsive body.
Trell walks back to his boys by the willow. Why should I tend to this stranger, this human thing, who smells so terribly of death? It’s unnatural. His mind is torn between his past beliefs and this present reality. But ... Gima wants him to live.
Conflicted, he reverts to the old ways and tones 'Frere Jacques,' hoping to calm his instinctive needs to obey his father’s fatalistic teachings that see humans only as enemies to be destroyed or toyed with for amusement and, in this case, left to die. Distraught, he sits rocking.
Blathen watches, pulls himself to an in-charge upright position, and as any proper first lieutenant should do, he offers what he considers expert advice. He runs a curved claw down Trell's arm to get his attention, unintentionally drawing a drop of blood which he tastes and catalogues.
Trell looks up, his eyes blank. For a moment he thinks he sees Trolious.
In a small, direct voice, trying to sound all-knowing and wise, Blathen breathing his hot breath in Trell's face, tones, “Father... Father, remember … you said, we are better for control. The need to 'do' can be our downfall.”
Then the minature vermel laughs, and rolling like a little red ball over to Trell’s feet, looks up raising his hands. "See, this is fun. This fun is the better kind." The one-eyed, fuzzy buddah wobbles on his round bottom and grins, his fat tummy jiggling with hee-haw laughter.
Trell can't resist Blathen’s comedy.The spell is broken. He reaches over and playfully pushes the little one backwards which sets him rocking on his back-hump.
Blathen gurgles with sheer enjoyment, kicking his feet high and wide. “Up, up Daddy. Up.”
And so it is done. Trell throws Blathen, gurgling, towards the sky.
Then catching him, Trell explains, “In Bellow City, death was left to continue its course. Here your mother believes that she can turn death around with flowers and weeds. So I do this, this thing that goes against all I’ve been taught. I tend a human … for her.”
Blathen nods—What is this Bellow City he speaks of? And then for more information, he sweeps his collector across Trell’s face. The flavor transmits confusion and relinquishment; both he classifies under weakness.
“Thirsty, Daddy. I’m thirsty.”
Trell, relaxed after a good laugh, slings Blathen over his shoulder and saunters over to the stream to refill the water bladder. They sit to kick their feet in the stream. Two very different sets of feet.
Blathen splashes and slurps contentedly, spilling for fun and squirting for distance, occassionally, aiming for salamanders who dart away.
When Trell turns to go back to the willow to check on Zee, he sees hundreds of purple and yellow coneflowers swaying across the meadow. He remembers Gima; just this morning she wore them in her hair. Beautiful. Then she chewed one into a potion for Hunter—to heal him.
With this sudden epiphany— flowers to heal Hunter—Trell, still toting Blathen on his shoulder like a little parasite, rushes to pick several waving coneflowers.
Blathen watches from the base of the willow as Trell chews the flowers to juice, swishes water in his mouth and drips the liquid into Hunter’s mouth again and again. Hunter moans to swallow without waking.
Distracted by a noise overhead, Trell’s keen eye follows a red-tailed hawk alighting atop the tallest oak. She puffs her feathers over newly laid eggs.
Eggs! Gima burned her hand on the cabin’s stove last fall. I'd just gathered wild turkey eggs? She soaked her hand in the clear slime, and there wasn't even a blister.
In a split second, he picks the quickest route to the nest through the oak’s branches, springs straight up, catches a branch, and easily pulls himself into the tree.
“Up Daddy. Up,” cheers Blathen.
Looking down he sees the three: Zee is curled up asleep, pale and freckled; Blathen bounces, waving merrily, wishing he could climb; Hunter shivers still talking nonsense.
Taken by a sudden tightness in his throat, Trell coughs and spits the taste of human from his lips. The previously dormant nodules to either side of the back of his tongue are swollen and tingle. An inner excitement that he’s never felt before rushes through him. Shaking his head, pushing this away, he looks up at the nest.
******
On the east trail, a little red scout jounces along. Pulled by the smell of fresh blood, it explores.
Cautiously, moving around the long, lanky dark-haired figure, the ant crawls up the gray, blood soaked hand to the creature’s torn shoulder and onto a neck where it feels a beat of life on the inside trail that runs there. It quickly scurries the entire, barely breathing, length of Asmel’s back to jump off at the boot.
Safely back home in the fallen tree which is being totally re-furbished by hundreds of his relatives, Scout 435 reports that the death of the creature would have been better for harvesting, but they can still gather from the seepage on the ground. He adds that the flies, the supposed wise foreseers of death, had already begun to claim the face, but the sound he heard and the rushing felt from within the creature may prove them wrong. He believes his judgment is far superior to a fly's.
******
Still searching for comfrey, Gima has gone much farther north than she ever planned. Her usual gathering place in the east clearing was destroyed by the fire, and, right now, she’s somewhat unsure of how to find this other stand that she’s only seen once, a very long time ago, while collecting herbs with Papa Azzy.
Witch hazel leaves were easy enough to find and are in her leather hip pouch. It’s beginning to get dark, and though her eyes see well in the dimming light, Gima can’t find the knee-high, fuzzy leafed comfrey which should be easy to spot with its bell-like purple flowers. But, she’s not about to give up.
Anxious to get back to her family, showing little caution, she pushes her way through the brush, looking from side to side, disturbing nesting whippoorwills, toads and other ground dwellers.
A steel-gray diamond back, who’s been basking in the last of the day’s sun, raises a broad head. Its heat pits sense Gima is near. A bush nearby rustles. The snake startles and coils.
The rattler is poised—intruder ready. Its black split tongue vibrates in and out, picking up Gima’s scent as she blunders within its reach. The black and white ringed tail issues a scaley warning, just before striking. Quarter-inch long fangs hit her left legging.
Lightning fast, Gima jumps back, reaches for and flings her knife, piercing, anchoring the snake’s triangular head to the ground.
Angry at her own carelessness and instinctively hungry to eat her kill, Gima lops off the ornately patterned, reflexively-snapping head, kicks it aside and then rips ravenously into the warm flesh. Knowing that no one can hear her, she snarls with satisfaction.
With sunset quickly approaching, and no comfrey in sight, she turns west toward the mountains.
*******
Meanwhile in the forest east of the clearing, the rain has quenched the fire. The light drizzle that persists wakes a pale green anole that lies curled up in its basking spot near Asmel’s hand. It scratches its nose while stretching its length, and a delicate light-pink tongue tastes the humid air to gulp a partial drop at the very moment a giant finger twitches.
Frightened, the small lizard darts further upward into the safety of the blackberry bush’s shady camouflage where it turns a darker green. With its tail twitching, head bobbing and its bright red dewlap fanned open at its neck, it jumps up and down, hissing a warning toward the body occupying its sunning territory.
Brown relatives, basking in their own territorial spots, flee to blend into the dark-brown peeling bark plates of a thirty-foot sugar maple. Invisible, they chatter and squeal in inaudible pitches that Asmel’s alive.
Several persistent flies flit off and on Asmel’s face, waiting for death to relax the occasionally twitching lips and eyes.
The giant’s fingers move. His wrist and elbow bend. Asmel's massive hand flops upward to cover and claim the face—its territory.
Angry flies argue their miscalculation, and Scout 435 merrily prances to report.
| Author Notes |
Vocabulary chap 23:
Browny- a small mouth bass Dewlap- fold of skin hanging from the neck; in an anole it contains erectile material and is used to attract a mate and scare predators; the male's is colorful,often bright red while the female's is smaller and pale. HERBAL INFORMATION: ECHINACEA- an herbal remedy prepared from the pulverized leaves and stems of purple coneflowers, thought to bolster the immune system; Echinacea (E. purpurea, angustifolia, pallida), while more famous for its immune-enhancing properties, was used topically by Native Americans and white settlers to heal wounds, insect stings, and snake bites. Scientific studies confirm that plant extracts are anti-inflammatory and hasten skin repair. Chemical constituents of echinacea also protect collagen (the protein that gives skin its strength) from free radical damage, as can happen after exposure to ultraviolet light. The plant also inhibits hyaluronidase, an enzyme that digests connective tissue (including the gel-like matrix in the deeper layers of the skin). Theoretically, inhibit of this enzyme can help keep that skin Jello intact, retard the spread of toxins through tissues, and keep tissues from leaking fluids (as happens after a bee sting). Echinacea also has some activity against bacterial and fungi. http://www.herbco.com/t-herbs-for-skin.aspx MARIGOLD: The marigold plant acts as an anti-inflammatory and soothing agent, helping to reduce inflammation due to irritation, pain and swelling. By speeding up healing time, the marigold also protects against bacterial infection when used on burns, stings and other inflammation of the body or on the skin. Marigold can be used on any inflamed or infected skin, and even aids in reducing varicose ulcers. A compress of marigold flowers is used on irritated and inflamed skin, while a juice made from marigold leaves can be used to heal warts. Marigold juice may be made not only from leaves, but from stems and flowers as well. Sponsored Links Read more: Marigolds Used for Health | eHow.com http://www.ehow.com/info_8085116_marigolds-used-health.html#ixzz1p8jDEpJr Create a lotion by cooking fresh marigold flowers in preheated lard. After stirring, leave the mixture overnight and reheat before straining into a jar to be used to soothe skin irritations such as burns. COMFREY root is often added to this mixture for added healing benefits Read more: Marigolds Used for Health | eHow.com http://www.ehow.com/info_8085116_marigolds-used-health.html#ixzz1p8jZPYtQ COMFREY: One of the most common uses of Comfrey extract is as a skin treatment. The plant contains the small organic molecule allantoin, which is thought to stimulate cell growth and repair while simultaneously depressing inflammation From the Univ. of Maryland Med. Center as sited on Wikipedia CORN: The fresh silks contain allantoin; see 'comfrey'above. ALOE: The juice from its leaves stimulates skin growth and repair; reduces pain and inflammation; may be taken internally; increases production of fibroblast cells responsible for collagen in the skin's dermis. http://www.ehow.com/list_7470591_healing-properties-aloe.html UNDER EARTH SPECIES: Vertant-the off-spring of two Vermel; looks human. Vermel-mutated humans who live in Under Earth; communicate via sign language and various sounds; noted by their single, particulate-collector naris; one eye; dark or red, coarse body hair; flat or twisted feet with three to six long toes; three fingered hands with long curving claw-like nails; pointed teeth in irregular, double rows; intelligent, but with strong base instincts. Particulate collector - a Vermel adaptation to living in a polluted underground; mutation ; porous tubular filaments; can extend from the naris in a searching fashion; they both taste and smell; alert to emotions of other species; Vertants may or may not have remnant nodes in nasal pharynx tissue(back of throat). dissident-rebel, nonconformist, protester; somebody who publicly disagrees with an established political or religious system or organization. DRINKS & SMOKING Elixirs: Euphoric-Blue - arouses passion without arousing anger or fear Green - calms aggression and base tendencies to mutilate, kill, cannibalize Caramel-clarity(female enhancement) Ruby-rigidity (male enhancement) Fitzel- a carbonated alcoholic beverage; a light intoxication; makes one funny, silly, uninhibited, kind Smoking- usually a mix of madine and sedderthal Hallucinogenic fungi grown in Bellow City Fazil- a smoking or chewing compound that stains the teeth Arnag-a fungus grown as food; a favorite rubber-chew flavor LOCATIONS: Under Earth- a civilization that exists totally under ground; Vermel territory. Bellow City- located in Under Earth. Jacknel's Arena- where Hunter and Trell were trained and exploited as 'Man' and 'Man #2'. Club ErrOw- a dance club downstairs; Chambers for coupling are upstairs. Sadie's Palace - a night spot where Vertant males are displayed for Vermel viewing and pleasure; masterbation columns are very popular in the Mural Room as is the free elixir bar. Alitian - Sir Alitus was the atrium's designer CHARACTERS: Gima-a Vertant; rescued and raised by Hunter and Asmel Trell- a Vertant; raised by Vermel, escaped to Upper Earth; has not yet learned to speak but has learned to understand it from Gima, his mate. Blathen- Gima and Trell's Vermel son; single, particulate-collector naris, one eye; on the hierarchy of Vermel his appearance labels him a Prime-One. Zee-Gima's second son who looks human Hunter- Nigel once a business man in the city; was captured and tortured by Ticum to become 'Man' in Jacknel's Arena in Bellow City; 'Papa' to Gima; suffers from PTSD. Asmal- a survivalist; built a cabin in the mountains; rescued Hunter; raised Gima with Hunter; 'Papa-Azzy' to Gima Ticum-Vermel;Jacknel's Circus trainer; beat and tortured Hunter; deceased Trum- Vermel; Ticum's brother; Trell's trainer at Jacknel's Arena Sadie- runs a display and pleasure house featuring male Vertants. Milim - Sadie's assistant a Vermel Picar-Vertant at Sadie's Jami-Picar's Vertant lover; Sadie's favorite. Mr. Arnst- Trell's abusive uncle; now a caznu(neutered)and no longer abusive Rom- Arnst's younger companion, lover Disposal Officer- Designated by numbers e.g. DO-45, DO-50; executioners; but they sell their prisoners, usually Vertants, on the black-market to various shady characters like Jacknel and Sadie for use in sport, entertainment, pleasure and artificial insemination collection and sales. Trolious- Head of Ministerial Affairs; Trell's father; Sadie's first cousin Lida - Trolious' wife; Trell's mother Betta - Lida's sister in Cindel City; raised Trell Larue- Assistant of Ministerial Affairs; canzu(involuntarilly castrated by Dyrel) Vermel Brackus- Larue's Vertant charge and lover Lem- the youngest Vertant to escape with Larue's help Rolak- Chief Enforcement Officer Vermel speech/sounds: twortle-a sound pattern distinctive to the Vermel; a combination of glottal stops, tongue click-clucks and snorts; an assertive pattern. chort- throaty sounds varying in tonal inflection and duration; normal speech; he chorts=he says. toning- saying; using a series of sounds other than speech thrumping songs-songs Trell learned growing up in Bellow City, Under Earth; melodic, throaty, glottal. Vocabulary: particulate collector - a Vermel adaptation, mutation; porous tubular filaments; can extend from the naris in a searching fashion; they both taste and smell; alert to emotions of other species; Vertants may or may not have remnants; nodes in nasal pharynx tissue may be all that remain in Vertant. Arnag-a fungus grown as food; a favorite rubber-chew flavor Caznu-neutered male Vermel; usually gay and neutered by choice for the good of the gene pool by decree of Trolious ; castration is a common punishment regardless of sexual orientation. And-End - Amen Pernard- a Vermel curse Dangle- a Vermel penis; they have two dangles. Mintrinet - minute alum- short for aluminium; usually recycled cans; a valued metal. mold-blossom - a fungi; small, dark brown and caramel colored flowerettes cluster to form a large crysantehmum-type flower; its heavy, sweet decaying scent is used in perfumed oil. |
By barkingdog
Dear Reader: The GLOSSARY is included by request. It's not a required part of the reading. It's merely to assist a new audience. Thank you for reading. :) barking dog
Previously in Chapter 23:
Trell and Gima, two Vertants, rescued Hunter, a human, from a fire in the east forest and carried him to the north side of Apple Valley where he lies unconscious beside a stream.
Trell stays to tend him while Gima leaves Apple Valley and heads northwest looking for comfrey, a healing herb.
Asmel, Hunter's friend, lies wounded by a black bear on the east forest trail.
CHAPTER 24
Baby-sitting and watching the sick prove to be daunting tasks for Trell. Zee wails, off and on, sending squirrels scampering away through high branches while Blathen tries to control his hunger by holding his breath, thus turning purple. Hunter's mumbling is non-stop, and for the most part, unintelligible.
Determined to impress Gima, Trell attends to Hunter. Ground coneflowers soak, brewing an antibacterial tea. He smears egg white on angry burns, applies a mix of allantoin rich corn silk and aloe to Hunter’s seared right side and lays an echinacea-marigold poultice on the human's torn toes. Finally, Trell covers him with yards of hanging moss collected from the oaks to shield him from gnats and flies.
The results are loud and annoying. Hunter’s fitful repetition of Gima’s name and something about Azzy are enough to make Trell instinctively want to finish him. Drowning … suffocation … a prick of my knife.
Walking about, extremely frustrated, Trell throws several rocks far into the field. He watches them land, each one farther than the one preceding it, and raising his hands to his mouth, yells at the top of his lungs, “Gima.”
Zee’s squalling starts again. This time, it’s much louder and its pitch, sharper. The pitch is so excruciating for the roosting sparrows that they complain and flee to another tree.
Zee’s entire body shakes, as his cries cause him to spasm and hiccough. Uncomfortable and sweaty, he relieves his bowels. He's paler than his usual whiter than white. Even his freckles seem to have disappeared.
Hands lifted to the sky, Trell calls out, again, “Gima.”
With what feels like his whole world pressing in on him, Trell covers his ears to mute Hunter’s loud muttering, Zee’s ear-piercing cries, and Blathen’s incessant laughter at the madness.
Driven to the brink of Vertant patience with sounds that have little meaning to him, Trell twists from side to side, trying to decide what to do.
Blathen stops laughing, and in a knowing tone, arms crossed, he interjects, “Remember father … control.” The purple lieutenant resumes holding his breath— making a prune face about Zee’s stench.
Trell turns away. My words come back to haunt me. Gods of my fathers … I need help.
He looks at Zee and, taking a deep breath, tones, “Let’s go, dirty boy.”
Trell, gingerly, picks up the noisy squirmer. With a firm grip under the arm pits, he holds him at a distance. Blathen laughs at Zee’s bottom, now as red as a Jonathon from the apple grove.
Trell waddles wide-legged to the stream, his arms at full length in front of him as if presenting an offering. He dips Zee, up and down, swishing him about. Making short work of an unpleasant task, he shakes the fussy wet infant like a slippery fish, being sure to hold the wiggler tight.
With one hand strategically balancing the bald, now pink, wonder on his hip, Trell searches through a deer skin bag with the other. Where did she put your coverings?
Things that Gima had carefully packed for the boys fly everywhere. Most of them land on Blathen who delights being buried and peeks out of a crack between a woven moss tunic and deerskin leggings draped over his head. I disappear. I’m invisible. Fun. He crouches under the growing pile and holds very still.
Dry and warm in a leather vest and woven hemp pants, Trell lays Zee down on a rabbit pelt blanket. Comfortable but still hungry, the chubby imp whimpers, sucking on his thumb, totally bewildered as to why Gima has disappeared with his milk. Pacified, for now, he entertains himself shaking and gumming a wooden rattle with deerhide streamers.
******
After hours of searching for comfrey plants, Gima, finally, stands still, looks around and admits, “I’m lost.”
With no markers in this unfamiliar northern territory, everything looks the same. In her hurry, Gima forgot Azzy’s first two rules: make note of where you are and mark a way to return from whence you came. She’s done neither.
Bears, wolves and other night predators will be waking, soon, to hunt. And here I am warm, sweaty—ripe.
In a matter of seconds, she stands naked, feeling vulnerable, but she has a purpose—to be rid of as much of her scent as possible. She cleans herself with dirt which mixes with her sweat, painting her a reddish brown. Then she crushes leaves and rubs their moist green and minty smells into her skin.
Gima abandons her pile of discarded clothing. And barefoot she runs, swiftly, under the towering sycamores deeper into the wilderness toward the range of blue mountains. Her earth brown skin is but a shadow flickering through the brownish-red bark of the giant trees.
Not far behind, a cougar trails Gima. The massive cat picked up on her scent at the dead rattlesnake's den.
Invaders are not tolerated. Gima's scent is strange and mixed with the smell of rattlesnake; it poses a territorial threat to this hungry one-hundred and fifty pound mother of three.
Gima's smell travels on a current of air. The cougar crouches when she spots the 'sleeping' pile.
Invader.
The tawny female slinks forward and with her powerful hind quarters thrusts herself fifteen feet onto the target. It’s a direct hit. Snarling, she tears the sweat stained, discarded skins to shreds, finding nothing.
Foiled, the amber-eyed queen, round ears erect, prowls the area and sees only broken branches and crushed leaves. She sniffs the ground and growls. Her big paws toss branches and pound silently on the forest floor in anger. I’ve lost a trail. I’ve never lost a trail. The scent, just, disappeared.
Bewildered but not defeated, the cougar lowers her head and walks on.
******
With Zee clean and content, Trell is feeling very pleased with himself. Chest out, chin high, he paces his ground, guarding his charges.
One son down—another pops up.
“Hungry, Daddy. Hungry.” Blathen opens and closes his hands with a gleam in his dark eye; pointed edges peek out between irregular fat lips.
“Behave,” Trell warns, wagging his finger, and hands Blathen the last of the corn from his satchel.
Blathen nods politely and with a calm hand he gently takes the corn. Then turning to the side, he lowers his head and tears into it. After a huge roaring burp, the satisfied plump vermel’s normal dark pinkish-tan complexion returns. He beams—his double rows of teeth filled with kernels.
While he continues to play in the pile of assorted goodies, Blathen sees his treasured toy—the wolf bone that he carried from the cabin after his first kill. “Mine, mine,” he chorts, crawling toward it. He grabs the well gnawed thigh bone and curls up on his side. Then tucking the pacifier under his chin, he hums it a lullaby.
Pleasant feelings rush through Trell when he hears the familiar Under Earth tune and sees his boys together. Though it’s not a boar pig’s rib, as his was, Blathen’s treasure is, still, a bone. And it did come from a righteous kill—something any father would be proud of.
At last, a moment’s peace.
Trell sits to continue making whistles from his birch cuttings.
******
Tired and confused, with no safe shelter, Gima searchs, looking for somewhere to spend the night. She remembers Azzy’s lesson to stay on the trails and to step on rocks or solid ground, as much as possible. She runs with light steps and wide strides, zigzagging from the path and back again, being careful not to leave a trail of bent branches or crushed ground cover.
After running many miles—the sounds of the day have ceased, and the night frogs and rustlings of nocturnals surround her—Gima sees the perfect oak. It reminds her of the one she used to climb as a child beside the Whitetail River. She springs up, catches a low branch and swings herself higher to a comfortable unclaimed fork.
Gima pulls her legs up. For warmth, she pulls moss from the branches down around her and hugs her leather gathering bag. Settled in for the night, Gima lowers her chin to rest. She's such a small speck in a large forest, only the chattering of her teeth might give her away to a keen ear.
She hears a rustling in the bushes below and holds her breath. Then an odd shape, tapered at both ends with an armoured round back and body, scurries to a large mound and begins digging. Gima breathes a sigh of relief.
Armadillo ... hunting ants.
Fears eased about her own situation, Gima worries for her family. Her breasts ache and begin to leak milk at the thought of Blathen and Zee. My very hungry boys.
Gima tries to catch the seeping milk and lick it from her hands, but it expresses too quickly. Faster and faster. She can't get it all. It trails down her onto the branch.
******
Suddenly, Zee can’t take it any longer, and throwing his gourd rattle, screams with hunger.
Blathen rises up, bone in hand, looks and waggles his finger. “Behave.”
Trell wishes he’d never had that talk with Blathen about self-control and, at the same time, he wants to thrash Zee into silence. A sound thrashing is the way it should be done. The way … Aunt Betta taught silence. I’d never have dared show such weakness, never. Grrr ... this is not what I choose to do. This is not what a male is meant to do.
Trell clenches his fists and walks toward the meadow to escape the piercing cries of one son and the bone wielding, reminders of the other.
In front of him, several doe graze on corn while their fawns play ‘grown-up bucks,’ nearby.
Another doe eats fallen apples from the grove just about twenty gallops to his right. Her baby pulls and presses milk from her teat; its tail wags, flashing white at success.
Trell is swift and Zee is fed.
With her fawn in tandem, the doe trots away, back to the apples.
Exhausted, Trell flops down on his back in the grass, his arms flung wide. Blathen's hand, clutching his bone, rests on his father's right arm. Zee snuggles against Trell's left side, sucking his thumb.
Trell's eyes are heavy with sleep, and as he nods off, a shiny red apple rolls from his hand. Swiftly, a claw spears it; with a single crunch-slurp, it's gone.
Hunter sits up.
| Author Notes |
Thank you quietlonelyartist for 'Quiet Forest Stream.'
HERBAL INFORMATION: ECHINACEA- an herbal remedy prepared from the pulverized leaves and stems of purple coneflowers, thought to bolster the immune system; Echinacea (E. purpurea, angustifolia, pallida), while more famous for its immune-enhancing properties, was used topically by Native Americans and white settlers to heal wounds, insect stings, and snake bites. Scientific studies confirm that plant extracts are anti-inflammatory and hasten skin repair. Chemical constituents of echinacea also protect collagen (the protein that gives skin its strength) from free radical damage, as can happen after exposure to ultraviolet light. The plant also inhibits hyaluronidase, an enzyme that digests connective tissue (including the gel-like matrix in the deeper layers of the skin). Theoretically, inhibit of this enzyme can help keep that skin Jello intact, retard the spread of toxins through tissues, and keep tissues from leaking fluids (as happens after a bee sting). Echinacea also has some activity against bacterial and fungi. http://www.herbco.com/t-herbs-for-skin.aspx MARIGOLD: The marigold plant acts as an anti-inflammatory and soothing agent, helping to reduce inflammation due to irritation, pain and swelling. By speeding up healing time, the marigold also protects against bacterial infection when used on burns, stings and other inflammation of the body or on the skin. Marigold can be used on any inflamed or infected skin, and even aids in reducing varicose ulcers. A compress of marigold flowers is used on irritated and inflamed skin, while a juice made from marigold leaves can be used to heal warts. Marigold juice may be made not only from leaves, but from stems and flowers as well. Sponsored Links Read more: Marigolds Used for Health | eHow.com http://www.ehow.com/info_8085116_marigolds-used-health.html#ixzz1p8jDEpJr Create a lotion by cooking fresh marigold flowers in preheated lard. After stirring, leave the mixture overnight and reheat before straining into a jar to be used to soothe skin irritations such as burns. COMFREY root is often added to this mixture for added healing benefits Read more: Marigolds Used for Health | eHow.com http://www.ehow.com/info_8085116_marigolds-used-health.html#ixzz1p8jZPYtQ COMFREY: One of the most common uses of Comfrey extract is as a skin treatment. The plant contains the small organic molecule allantoin, which is thought to stimulate cell growth and repair while simultaneously depressing inflammation From the Univ. of Maryland Med. Center as sited on Wikipedia CORN: The fresh silks contain allantoin; see 'comfrey'above. ALOE: The juice from its leaves stimulates skin growth and repair; reduces pain and inflammation; may be taken internally; increases production of fibroblast cells responsible for collagen in the skin's dermis. http://www.ehow.com/list_7470591_healing-properties-aloe.html UNDER EARTH SPECIES: Vertant-the off-spring of two Vermel; looks human. Vermel-mutated humans who live in Under Earth; communicate via sign language and various sounds; noted by their single, particulate-collector naris; one eye; dark or red, coarse body hair; flat or twisted feet with three to six long toes; three fingered hands with long curving claw-like nails; pointed teeth in irregular, double rows; intelligent, but with strong base instincts. Particulate collector - a Vermel adaptation to living in a polluted underground; mutation ; porous tubular filaments; can extend from the naris in a searching fashion; they both taste and smell; alert to emotions of other species; Vertants may or may not have remnant nodes in nasal pharynx tissue(back of throat). dissident-rebel, nonconformist, protester; somebody who publicly disagrees with an established political or religious system or organization. DRINKS & SMOKING Elixirs: Euphoric-Blue - arouses passion without arousing anger or fear Green - calms aggression and base tendencies to mutilate, kill, cannibalize Caramel-clarity(female enhancement) Ruby-rigidity (male enhancement) Fitzel- a carbonated alcoholic beverage; a light intoxication; makes one funny, silly, uninhibited, kind Smoking- usually a mix of madine and sedderthal Hallucinogenic fungi grown in Bellow City Fazil- a smoking or chewing compound that stains the teeth Arnag-a fungus grown as food; a favorite rubber-chew flavor LOCATIONS: Under Earth- a civilization that exists totally under ground; Vermel territory. Bellow City- located in Under Earth. Jacknel's Arena- where Hunter and Trell were trained and exploited as 'Man' and 'Man #2'. Club ErrOw- a dance club downstairs; Chambers for coupling are upstairs. Sadie's Palace - a night spot where Vertant males are displayed for Vermel viewing and pleasure; masterbation columns are very popular in the Mural Room as is the free elixir bar. Alitian - Sir Alitus was the atrium's designer CHARACTERS: Gima-a Vertant; rescued and raised by Hunter and Asmel Trell- a Vertant; raised by Vermel, escaped to Upper Earth; has not yet learned to speak but has learned to understand it from Gima, his mate. Blathen- Gima and Trell's Vermel son; single, particulate-collector naris, one eye; on the hierarchy of Vermel his appearance labels him a Prime-One. Zee-Gima's second son who looks human Hunter- Nigel once a business man in the city; was captured and tortured by Ticum to become 'Man' in Jacknel's Arena in Bellow City; 'Papa' to Gima; suffers from PTSD. Asmal- a survivalist; built a cabin in the mountains; rescued Hunter; raised Gima with Hunter; 'Papa-Azzy' to Gima Ticum-Vermel;Jacknel's Circus trainer; beat and tortured Hunter; deceased Trum- Vermel; Ticum's brother; Trell's trainer at Jacknel's Arena Sadie- runs a display and pleasure house featuring male Vertants. Milim - Sadie's assistant a Vermel Picar-Vertant at Sadie's Jami-Picar's Vertant lover; Sadie's favorite. Mr. Arnst- Trell's abusive uncle; now a caznu(neutered)and no longer abusive Rom- Arnst's younger companion, lover Disposal Officer- Designated by numbers e.g. DO-45, DO-50; executioners; but they sell their prisoners, usually Vertants, on the black-market to various shady characters like Jacknel and Sadie for use in sport, entertainment, pleasure and artificial insemination collection and sales. Trolious- Head of Ministerial Affairs; Trell's father; Sadie's first cousin Lida - Trolious' wife; Trell's mother Betta - Lida's sister in Cindel City; raised Trell Larue- Assistant of Ministerial Affairs; canzu(involuntarilly castrated by Dyrel) Vermel Brackus- Larue's Vertant charge and lover Lem- the youngest Vertant to escape with Larue's help Rolak- Chief Enforcement Officer Vermel speech/sounds: twortle-a sound pattern distinctive to the Vermel; a combination of glottal stops, tongue click-clucks and snorts; an assertive pattern. chort- throaty sounds varying in tonal inflection and duration; normal speech; he chorts=he says. toning- saying; using a series of sounds other than speech thrumping songs-songs Trell learned growing up in Bellow City, Under Earth; melodic, throaty, glottal. Vocabulary: particulate collector - a Vermel adaptation, mutation; porous tubular filaments; can extend from the naris in a searching fashion; they both taste and smell; alert to emotions of other species; Vertants may or may not have remnants; nodes in nasal pharynx tissue may be all that remain in Vertant. Arnag-a fungus grown as food; a favorite rubber-chew flavor Caznu-neutered male Vermel; usually gay and neutered by choice for the good of the gene pool by decree of Trolious ; castration is a common punishment regardless of sexual orientation. And-End - Amen Pernard- a Vermel curse Dangle- a Vermel penis; they have two dangles. Mintrinet - minute alum- short for aluminium; usually recycled cans; a valued metal. mold-blossom - a fungi; small, dark brown and caramel colored flowerettes cluster to form a large crysantehmum-type flower; its heavy, sweet decaying scent is used in perfumed oil. |
By barkingdog
Dear Reader: The GLOSSARY is included by request. It's not a required part of the reading. It's merely to assist a new audience. Thank you for reading. :) barking dog
Previously:
Trell and Gima, two Vertants, rescued Hunter, a human, from a forest fire. Trell has been tending Hunter's burns while Gima left to find herbs for treatment.
Hunter who rescued Gima from her Vermel parents and raised her with Asmel, knows nothing of Trell. Gima kept Trell a secret.
Blathen( a Vermel) and Zee, Trell and Gima's infant sons, are also in this camp.
Asmel, injured by a bear, lies wounded on the east trail.
CHAPTER 25
His fever lessened, no longer delirious, Hunter wakes and sits upright with a start.
Unable to remember a thing except stumbling through the east clearing's fire, lungs burning with smoke, Hunter stares and blinks dumbfoundedly, at a stranger—a tall, light-haired fellow in a deerskin loin cloth and boots, and two … well, one infant and something else, covered up … sleeping. When he tries to move, he winces in pain, coughs several times, spits black phlegm, and blurts out, “Oww ... damn it ... .”
From the shade of the willow, Trell springs to his feet, drawing his knife from its scabbard.
Now, what?
Blathen and Zee fidget and fuss before rolling together, back to sleep, under the furry cover.
Another problem just woke up. Trell takes a broad stance in front of his boys, blocking them from Hunter’s view. His stoic blue eyes meet Hunter’s questioning green ones.
"Where am I?" Hunter’s voice trembles. " Who are you?"
Should I speak? Trell is motionless.
“Blast it, man. Who are you?” Hunter repeats while tossing off the yards of Spanish moss that Trell had used to blanket him.
“Telly,” Trell says, coming fairly close to pronouncing the name Gima calls him, and then bows slightly, an Under Earth formality.
“Telly?”
Trell nods.
Hunter looks down at his foot to realize it’s been treated and appears to be healing. He bends his knees and stretches his legs. Well, I’ll be damned. The bottom half still works. He moves his left arm, stretching his burned side. But the top feels like hell. “Owwww.”
Trell stoops, reaches for the cup of echinacea and birch bark tea, and offers it to Hunter. With his hand cupped, Trell indicates ‘drink.’
Hunter cautiously takes a whiff then manages a bit of a chuckle in spite of the tightening burns on his face. “This tastes like the same nasty boot cleaner that Azzy gave me.” He sips, slowly, through blistered lips and worries, watching Trell casually scyth off low hanging willow leaves with a long blade.
Trell smiles, re-sheathes his knife, and crossing his arms, grunts approval.
Something in Trell's tone, the stance taken, raises what hairs are left on Hunter’s body. Immediately, he knows what Trell is. But, he also sees the knife is put away, and that he holds medicine—a vile mix that Asmel brews. He makes the connection. Gima!
Hunter drinks. Trell watches.
Luckily, the boys sleep hidden. Blathen has covered them both with the patchwork rabbit skin blanket to play his new game, ‘invisible.’ The clever vermel wiggles, having adventurous dreams of ‘red’ and many tasty bones.
Unexpectedly, a gnarled foot with a very, very long clawed first- toe and sizable, curved black claws on the other two pokes out. Its razor sharp nails cut the rabbit pelts’ stitching, and there it is, surrounded by ultra-soft brown and white fur, a very, very strange looking 'rabbit's foot,' indeed.
Comforted by the medicinal tea, Hunter has dozed off long ago.
In the moonlight under a clear sky, Trell guards what is his. Many sounds keep him company—crickets, frogs, armadillos routing for ants and howls of an occasional struggle between a field mouse and a fox, or a fox and a bobcat.
******
Bears and other forest inhabitants are impatient to cross the Ox Bow River and return to their territories on the other side.
Thanks to the torrential spring rain, the fire only caused minimal damage, and thus, only a temporary exodus. It destroyed an uneven radius from the clearing of up to three miles, or so. The westerly wind brought flames within a quarter mile of where Asmel lies.
Luckily for Asmel, the fierce black bear, alerted by the smoke, ceased mauling him and chose to escape with her three month old cubs across the Ox Bow's wide green waters to safety.
Now, waiting for the last scent of smoldering patches to subside, it was nearly time for nature's refugees to go home. Catching catfish for breakfast from the shallows of the river make this a very good morning for bears.
******
Asmel tries to move. His right arm and left leg are useless after being tossed around like a rag-doll by something ginormous with terrible breath. He remembers striking out with his knife then everything went black. He felt no pain, until now.
Blood crusts his entire upper torso. He touches the back of his head. Man, I need stitches. Why am I worried about stitches? I’m bait.
He smells the fire, still, burning itself out in small contained areas.
Shit, Hunter are you dead, too? Is this the end of us? Not Vermel or Vertant, but Mother Nature, herself, got the best of us.
Scout 453 marches home with a crew of red ant gatherers who carry twigs and leaves spattered with Asmel’s blood. They pay the human no mind, being in a hurry to report back to their tree and close up shop for the night. Their shift is over. There’s always more to do tomorrow after the nocturnals show up for the night shift.
Asmel lies back as darkness enters the east forest path. Maybe, tomorrow … He drifts in and out of sleep. The face of a small black bear wakes him ... but it's only a dream ... one that brings sweats of terror.
******
At dawn in the north forest, the cougar gathers her cubs and back tracks to the site of the rattlesnake kill where she picks up Gima’s scent. After a few miles, the tawny hunter realizes that it leads to the valley of the deer where the wolf pack reigns.
A pack of wolves is a high risk to take for an unfamiliar scent, but she hasn’t heard the howls of its lead dog on the hill’s horizon for many a night, nor does she smell fresh wolf markings as she sniffs the territorial line and lays down her own spray.
Clawing hunger pushes her to cautiously chance the move forward into wolf territory. Visions of white tail sprinting away, or a spotted innocent left behind is tantalizing. She licks her jowls and purrs. Soon … very soon.
| Author Notes |
HERBAL INFORMATION:
ECHINACEA- an herbal remedy prepared from the pulverized leaves and stems of purple coneflowers, thought to bolster the immune system; Echinacea (E. purpurea, angustifolia, pallida), while more famous for its immune-enhancing properties, was used topically by Native Americans and white settlers to heal wounds, insect stings, and snake bites. Scientific studies confirm that plant extracts are anti-inflammatory and hasten skin repair. Chemical constituents of echinacea also protect collagen (the protein that gives skin its strength) from free radical damage, as can happen after exposure to ultraviolet light. The plant also inhibits hyaluronidase, an enzyme that digests connective tissue (including the gel-like matrix in the deeper layers of the skin). Theoretically, inhibit of this enzyme can help keep that skin Jello intact, retard the spread of toxins through tissues, and keep tissues from leaking fluids (as happens after a bee sting). Echinacea also has some activity against bacterial and fungi. http://www.herbco.com/t-herbs-for-skin.aspx MARIGOLD: The marigold plant acts as an anti-inflammatory and soothing agent, helping to reduce inflammation due to irritation, pain and swelling. By speeding up healing time, the marigold also protects against bacterial infection when used on burns, stings and other inflammation of the body or on the skin. Marigold can be used on any inflamed or infected skin, and even aids in reducing varicose ulcers. A compress of marigold flowers is used on irritated and inflamed skin, while a juice made from marigold leaves can be used to heal warts. Marigold juice may be made not only from leaves, but from stems and flowers as well. Sponsored Links Read more: Marigolds Used for Health | eHow.com http://www.ehow.com/info_8085116_marigolds-used-health.html#ixzz1p8jDEpJr Create a lotion by cooking fresh marigold flowers in preheated lard. After stirring, leave the mixture overnight and reheat before straining into a jar to be used to soothe skin irritations such as burns. COMFREY root is often added to this mixture for added healing benefits Read more: Marigolds Used for Health | eHow.com http://www.ehow.com/info_8085116_marigolds-used-health.html#ixzz1p8jZPYtQ COMFREY: One of the most common uses of Comfrey extract is as a skin treatment. The plant contains the small organic molecule allantoin, which is thought to stimulate cell growth and repair while simultaneously depressing inflammation From the Univ. of Maryland Med. Center as sited on Wikipedia CORN: The fresh silks contain allantoin; see 'comfrey'above. ALOE: The juice from its leaves stimulates skin growth and repair; reduces pain and inflammation; may be taken internally; increases production of fibroblast cells responsible for collagen in the skin's dermis. http://www.ehow.com/list_7470591_healing-properties-aloe.html UNDER EARTH SPECIES: Vertant-the off-spring of two Vermel; looks human. Vermel-mutated humans who live in Under Earth; communicate via sign language and various sounds; noted by their single, particulate-collector naris; one eye; dark or red, coarse body hair; flat or twisted feet with three to six long toes; three fingered hands with long curving claw-like nails; pointed teeth in irregular, double rows; intelligent, but with strong base instincts. Particulate collector - a Vermel adaptation to living in a polluted underground; mutation ; porous tubular filaments; can extend from the naris in a searching fashion; they both taste and smell; alert to emotions of other species; Vertants may or may not have remnant nodes in nasal pharynx tissue(back of throat). dissident-rebel, nonconformist, protester; somebody who publicly disagrees with an established political or religious system or organization. DRINKS & SMOKING Elixirs: Euphoric-Blue - arouses passion without arousing anger or fear Green - calms aggression and base tendencies to mutilate, kill, cannibalize Caramel-clarity(female enhancement) Ruby-rigidity (male enhancement) Fitzel- a carbonated alcoholic beverage; a light intoxication; makes one funny, silly, uninhibited, kind Smoking- usually a mix of madine and sedderthal Hallucinogenic fungi grown in Bellow City Fazil- a smoking or chewing compound that stains the teeth Arnag-a fungus grown as food; a favorite rubber-chew flavor LOCATIONS: Under Earth- a civilization that exists totally under ground; Vermel territory. Bellow City- located in Under Earth. Jacknel's Arena- where Hunter and Trell were trained and exploited as 'Man' and 'Man #2'. Club ErrOw- a dance club downstairs; Chambers for coupling are upstairs. Sadie's Palace - a night spot where Vertant males are displayed for Vermel viewing and pleasure; masterbation columns are very popular in the Mural Room as is the free elixir bar. Alitian - Sir Alitus was the atrium's designer CHARACTERS: Gima-a Vertant; rescued and raised by Hunter and Asmel Trell- a Vertant; raised by Vermel, escaped to Upper Earth; has not yet learned to speak but has learned to understand it from Gima, his mate. Blathen- Gima and Trell's Vermel son; single, particulate-collector naris, one eye; on the hierarchy of Vermel his appearance labels him a Prime-One. Zee-Gima's second son who looks human Hunter- Nigel once a business man in the city; was captured and tortured by Ticum to become 'Man' in Jacknel's Arena in Bellow City; 'Papa' to Gima; suffers from PTSD. Asmal- a survivalist; built a cabin in the mountains; rescued Hunter; raised Gima with Hunter; 'Papa-Azzy' to Gima Ticum-Vermel;Jacknel's Circus trainer; beat and tortured Hunter; deceased Trum- Vermel; Ticum's brother; Trell's trainer at Jacknel's Arena Sadie- runs a display and pleasure house featuring male Vertants. Milim - Sadie's assistant a Vermel Picar-Vertant at Sadie's Jami-Picar's Vertant lover; Sadie's favorite. Mr. Arnst- Trell's abusive uncle; now a caznu(neutered)and no longer abusive Rom- Arnst's younger companion, lover Disposal Officer- Designated by numbers e.g. DO-45, DO-50; executioners; but they sell their prisoners, usually Vertants, on the black-market to various shady characters like Jacknel and Sadie for use in sport, entertainment, pleasure and artificial insemination collection and sales. Trolious- Head of Ministerial Affairs; Trell's father; Sadie's first cousin Lida - Trolious' wife; Trell's mother Betta - Lida's sister in Cindel City; raised Trell Larue- Assistant of Ministerial Affairs; canzu(involuntarilly castrated by Dyrel) Vermel Brackus- Larue's Vertant charge and lover Lem- the youngest Vertant to escape with Larue's help Rolak- Chief Enforcement Officer Vermel speech/sounds: twortle-a sound pattern distinctive to the Vermel; a combination of glottal stops, tongue click-clucks and snorts; an assertive pattern. chort- throaty sounds varying in tonal inflection and duration; normal speech; he chorts=he says. toning- saying; using a series of sounds other than speech thrumping songs-songs Trell learned growing up in Bellow City, Under Earth; melodic, throaty, glottal. Vocabulary: particulate collector - a Vermel adaptation, mutation; porous tubular filaments; can extend from the naris in a searching fashion; they both taste and smell; alert to emotions of other species; Vertants may or may not have remnants; nodes in nasal pharynx tissue may be all that remain in Vertant. Arnag-a fungus grown as food; a favorite rubber-chew flavor Caznu-neutered male Vermel; usually gay and neutered by choice for the good of the gene pool by decree of Trolious ; castration is a common punishment regardless of sexual orientation. And-End - Amen Pernard- a Vermel curse Dangle- a Vermel penis; they have two dangles. Mintrinet - minute alum- short for aluminium; usually recycled cans; a valued metal. mold-blossom - a fungi; small, dark brown and caramel colored flowerettes cluster to form a large crysantehmum-type flower; its heavy, sweet decaying scent is used in perfumed oil. |
By barkingdog
| Author Notes |
I would like to thank chickadee for her lovely art 'Ambush!'
UNDER EARTH SPECIES: Vertant-the off-spring of two Vermel; looks human. Vermel-mutated humans who live in Under Earth; communicate via sign language and various sounds; noted by their single, particulate-collector naris; one eye; dark or red, coarse body hair; flat or twisted feet with three to six long toes; three fingered hands with long curving claw-like nails; pointed teeth in irregular, double rows; intelligent, but with strong base instincts. Particulate collector - a Vermel adaptation to living in a polluted underground; mutation ; porous tubular filaments; can extend from the naris in a searching fashion; they both taste and smell; alert to emotions of other species; Vertants may or may not have remnant nodes in nasal pharynx tissue(back of throat). dissident-rebel, nonconformist, protester; somebody who publicly disagrees with an established political or religious system or organization. DRINKS & SMOKING Elixirs: Euphoric-Blue - arouses passion without arousing anger or fear Green - calms aggression and base tendencies to mutilate, kill, cannibalize Caramel-clarity(female enhancement) Ruby-rigidity (male enhancement) Fitzel- a carbonated alcoholic beverage; a light intoxication; makes one funny, silly, uninhibited, kind Smoking- usually a mix of madine and sedderthal Hallucinogenic fungi grown in Bellow City Fazil- a smoking or chewing compound that stains the teeth Arnag-a fungus grown as food; a favorite rubber-chew flavor LOCATIONS: Under Earth- a civilization that exists totally under ground; Vermel territory. Bellow City- located in Under Earth. Jacknel's Arena- where Hunter and Trell were trained and exploited as 'Man' and 'Man #2'. Club ErrOw- a dance club downstairs; Chambers for coupling are upstairs. Sadie's Palace - a night spot where Vertant males are displayed for Vermel viewing and pleasure; masterbation columns are very popular in the Mural Room as is the free elixir bar. Alitian - Sir Alitus was the atrium's designer CHARACTERS: Gima-a Vertant; rescued and raised by Hunter and Asmel Trell- a Vertant; raised by Vermel, escaped to Upper Earth; has not yet learned to speak but has learned to understand it from Gima, his mate. Blathen- Gima and Trell's Vermel son; single, particulate-collector naris, one eye; on the hierarchy of Vermel his appearance labels him a Prime-One. Zee-Gima's second son who looks human Hunter- Nigel once a business man in the city; was captured and tortured by Ticum to become 'Man' in Jacknel's Arena in Bellow City; 'Papa' to Gima; suffers from PTSD. Asmal- a survivalist; built a cabin in the mountains; rescued Hunter; raised Gima with Hunter; 'Papa-Azzy' to Gima Ticum-Vermel;Jacknel's Circus trainer; beat and tortured Hunter; deceased Trum- Vermel; Ticum's brother; Trell's trainer at Jacknel's Arena Sadie- runs a display and pleasure house featuring male Vertants. Milim - Sadie's assistant a Vermel Picar-Vertant at Sadie's Jami-Picar's Vertant lover; Sadie's favorite. Mr. Arnst- Trell's abusive uncle; now a caznu(neutered)and no longer abusive Rom- Arnst's younger companion, lover Disposal Officer- Designated by numbers e.g. DO-45, DO-50; executioners; but they sell their prisoners, usually Vertants, on the black-market to various shady characters like Jacknel and Sadie for use in sport, entertainment, pleasure and artificial insemination collection and sales. Trolious- Head of Ministerial Affairs; Trell's father; Sadie's first cousin Lida - Trolious' wife; Trell's mother Betta - Lida's sister in Cindel City; raised Trell Larue- Assistant of Ministerial Affairs; canzu(involuntarilly castrated by Dyrel) Vermel Brackus- Larue's Vertant charge and lover Lem- the youngest Vertant to escape with Larue's help Rolak- Chief Enforcement Officer Vermel speech/sounds: twortle-a sound pattern distinctive to the Vermel; a combination of glottal stops, tongue click-clucks and snorts; an assertive pattern. chort- throaty sounds varying in tonal inflection and duration; normal speech; he chorts=he says. toning- saying; using a series of sounds other than speech thrumping songs-songs Trell learned growing up in Bellow City, Under Earth; melodic, throaty, glottal. Vocabulary: particulate collector - a Vermel adaptation, mutation; porous tubular filaments; can extend from the naris in a searching fashion; they both taste and smell; alert to emotions of other species; Vertants may or may not have remnants; nodes in nasal pharynx tissue may be all that remain in Vertant. Arnag-a fungus grown as food; a favorite rubber-chew flavor Caznu-neutered male Vermel; usually gay and neutered by choice for the good of the gene pool by decree of Trolious ; castration is a common punishment regardless of sexual orientation. And-End - Amen Pernard- a Vermel curse Dangle- a Vermel penis; they have two dangles. Mintrinet - minute alum- short for aluminium; usually recycled cans; a valued metal. mold-blossom - a fungi; small, dark brown and caramel colored flowerettes cluster to form a large crysantehmum-type flower; its heavy, sweet decaying scent is used in perfumed oil |
By barkingdog
Dear Reader: The GLOSSARY is included by request. It's not a required part of the reading. It's merely to assist a new audience. Thank you for reading. :) barking dog
Previously:
| Author Notes |
I plan to add a paragraph in a previous chapter to show how Blathen picked up the 'Gottcha' phrase from Hunter. Hunter will say it when Blathen is pitching him apples.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ loquacity- long-windedness; gift of gab; talkative. UNDER EARTH SPECIES: Vertant-the off-spring of two Vermel; looks human. Vermel-mutated humans who live in Under Earth; communicate via sign language and various sounds; noted by their single, particulate-collector naris; one eye; dark or red, coarse body hair; flat or twisted feet with three to six long toes; three fingered hands with long curving claw-like nails; pointed teeth in irregular, double rows; intelligent, but with strong base instincts. Particulate collector - a Vermel adaptation to living in a polluted underground; mutation ; porous tubular filaments; can extend from the naris in a searching fashion; they both taste and smell; alert to emotions of other species; Vertants may or may not have remnant nodes in nasal pharynx tissue(back of throat). dissident-rebel, nonconformist, protester; somebody who publicly disagrees with an established political or religious system or organization. DRINKS & SMOKING Elixirs: Euphoric-Blue - arouses passion without arousing anger or fear Green - calms aggression and base tendencies to mutilate, kill, cannibalize Caramel-clarity(female enhancement) Ruby-rigidity (male enhancement) Fitzel- a carbonated alcoholic beverage; a light intoxication; makes one funny, silly, uninhibited, kind Smoking- usually a mix of madine and sedderthal Hallucinogenic fungi grown in Bellow City Fazil- a smoking or chewing compound that stains the teeth Arnag-a fungus grown as food; a favorite rubber-chew flavor LOCATIONS: Under Earth- a civilization that exists totally under ground; Vermel territory. Bellow City- located in Under Earth. Jacknel's Arena- where Hunter and Trell were trained and exploited as 'Man' and 'Man #2'. Club ErrOw- a dance club downstairs; Chambers for coupling are upstairs. Sadie's Palace - a night spot where Vertant males are displayed for Vermel viewing and pleasure; masterbation columns are very popular in the Mural Room as is the free elixir bar. Alitian - Sir Alitus was the atrium's designer CHARACTERS: Gima-a Vertant; rescued and raised by Hunter and Asmel Trell- a Vertant; raised by Vermel, escaped to Upper Earth; has not yet learned to speak but has learned to understand it from Gima, his mate. Blathen- Gima and Trell's Vermel son; single, particulate-collector naris, one eye; on the hierarchy of Vermel his appearance labels him a Prime-One. Zee-Gima's second son who looks human Hunter- Nigel once a business man in the city; was captured and tortured by Ticum to become 'Man' in Jacknel's Arena in Bellow City; 'Papa' to Gima; suffers from PTSD. Asmal- a survivalist; built a cabin in the mountains; rescued Hunter; raised Gima with Hunter; 'Papa-Azzy' to Gima Ticum-Vermel;Jacknel's Circus trainer; beat and tortured Hunter; deceased Trum- Vermel; Ticum's brother; Trell's trainer at Jacknel's Arena Sadie- runs a display and pleasure house featuring male Vertants. Milim - Sadie's assistant a Vermel Picar-Vertant at Sadie's Jami-Picar's Vertant lover; Sadie's favorite. Mr. Arnst- Trell's abusive uncle; now a caznu(neutered)and no longer abusive Rom- Arnst's younger companion, lover Disposal Officer- Designated by numbers e.g. DO-45, DO-50; executioners; but they sell their prisoners, usually Vertants, on the black-market to various shady characters like Jacknel and Sadie for use in sport, entertainment, pleasure and artificial insemination collection and sales. Trolious- Head of Ministerial Affairs; Trell's father; Sadie's first cousin Lida - Trolious' wife; Trell's mother Betta - Lida's sister in Cindel City; raised Trell Larue- Assistant of Ministerial Affairs; canzu(involuntarilly castrated by Dyrel) Vermel Brackus- Larue's Vertant charge and lover Lem- the youngest Vertant to escape with Larue's help Rolak- Chief Enforcement Officer Vermel speech/sounds: twortle-a sound pattern distinctive to the Vermel; a combination of glottal stops, tongue click-clucks and snorts; an assertive pattern. chort- throaty sounds varying in tonal inflection and duration; normal speech; he chorts=he says. toning- saying; using a series of sounds other than speech thrumping songs-songs Trell learned growing up in Bellow City, Under Earth; melodic, throaty, glottal. Vocabulary: particulate collector - a Vermel adaptation, mutation; porous tubular filaments; can extend from the naris in a searching fashion; they both taste and smell; alert to emotions of other species; Vertants may or may not have remnants; nodes in nasal pharynx tissue may be all that remain in Vertant. Arnag-a fungus grown as food; a favorite rubber-chew flavor Caznu-neutered male Vermel; usually gay and neutered by choice for the good of the gene pool by decree of Trolious ; castration is a common punishment regardless of sexual orientation. And-End - Amen Pernard- a Vermel curse Dangle- a Vermel penis; they have two dangles. Mintrinet - minute alum- short for aluminium; usually recycled cans; a valued metal. mold-blossom - a fungi; small, dark brown and caramel colored flowerettes cluster to form a large crysantehmum-type flower; its heavy, sweet decaying scent is used in perfumed oil. |
By barkingdog
Dear Reader: 'Gima' is Fantasy-Adventure. The author notes ' GLOSSARY is included by request. It's not a required part of the reading. It's merely to assist a new audience. Have fun reading. :) barking dog
Previously:
Hunter and Asmel are humans who raised Gima, a vertant. Gima met Trell, a vertant, in secret and later had Zee and Blathen who is a vermel. They ran from the Papas because Asmel would kill anything vermel. The men pursued Gima, wanting Zee who appears to be human.
Gima persuaded Trell to rescue Hunter from a forest fire. She left to find healing herbs. Hunter and Trell went back in the forest to find Asmel who's been mauled by a black bear.
Blathen is developing at a much faster rate than Zee and has Prime One skills-spewing acid is the first to surface. He was a partner in killing the black bear that Hunter eventually shot to save Trell's life.
Chapter 27
Hunter and Trell found Asmel injured by a black bear, after killing the bear, they took Asmel back to camp for treatment.
Far away in the northwestern forest, Gima has been clinging to life. In the safety of a gigantic oak tree for nearly a week, she’s been treating herself for snake bite and surviving on fruits and roots that she’s stuffed into her medicinal pouch.
Chapter 28
Trell’s gift, the deer hide boots, had miraculously protected her leg from the three foot rattler’s initial lunge. She killed it, but when she attempted to sever the reflexively snapping head, its venomous fangs had accidentally pierced her hand.
She thought nothing of it, because she’d been bitten many times by baby rattlers when she and Asmel would hunt. Little ones were always turning up in the piles of firewood stored near the Papas' cabin. The bites had less and less effect on her until, finally, they were nothing more than annoying scratches to be treated for infection. That's all she thought this mishap was—a scratch. But this larger snake of a different family in a different area had proven her wrong.
Dizzy and unable to focus, she couldn't track her way back to Apple Valley. So, she decided to stay put and attempt to treat the poisonous bite as best she could using the paw-paw tree’s fruit to digest the venom’s protein. The oak gave her shelter, and the paw-paw patch grew in its shade.
******
It's only the second day back at the camp and Asmel frowns, disliking his new status. Accustomed to always creating the loop, making the decisions, he's lost his clout. Here in Trell's valley, he's not the strongest or the apparent leader. He feels threatened and uneasy not being in control.
Trell isn’t too sure about Gima’s Papa Azzy. All he does is talk and ask questions: Who? What? Where? When? Why? Is this a human trait? Trell can’t take the interrogation any longer. Without a word to anyone, he sprints away, leaving Asmel’s incessant questions and medical care to Hunter.
”Where’s he going, now?” Asmel turns to watch Trell disappear into the east forest clearing.
Hunter shakes his head and continues dressing Asmel’s shoulder. He moves on to treat the head wound with aloe-echinacea ointment, wrapping it with Spanish moss which looks rather like a ridiculous turban.
Asmel repeats. "So, where's he going?"
“Out for lunch?”
“Cute, Hunter.”
Hunter smiles and tries to look 'cute', but with his burns still painful he winces. "Oww."
Asmel kicks Hunter’s uninjured foot and laughs, “We’re a bloody mess. We are.”
******
Trell enjoys his five mile run in the comparatively quiet forest. When he nears the black bear’s carcass, he hears rustling in the brush and interrupts a bobcat who gives him a menacing stare as it slowly drags off its fresh kill— the smaller of the two cubs. Trell nods, grunts and leaves the cat to its work while he goes back to his.
Half-way through the skinning, a narrow beige muzzle with a wet black nose pokes out from the blackberry bushes. It's followed by brown eyes below a wide, fury black forehead and large, rounded upright black ears. It whimpers, looking for its mother then retreats behind the brambles to watch the harvesting.
Trell reaches for some berries to quench his hunger and withdraws quickly when a long pink tongue darts out and licks his hand's familiar scent. By now Trell smells just like Mama. The cub steps forward yowling a mournful mumble. Trell draws his knife and is ready to strike when the cub makes two familiar squeals: a lonely cry Trell knows, missing Gima, and a sad one he remembers. These sounds are his sounds, too. Cautiously, the thirty-five pound orphan rubs against Trell's boots and plops down across his feet. Trell kicks him aside.
“Go away.”
Trell tries to continue his work but the pesky cub keeps coming back, getting in the way; it seems, every ten seconds. Trell’s patience wears thin and he, finally, gives the pest a great shove and growls, “Sit.” That’s all it takes. The cub obeys and one could even say that it smiles.
Trell folds the pelt and, slinging a rear haunch over his shoulder, turns toward camp. I’ll make it before nightfall. They’ll be hungry
Trell runs through the charred, lifeless forest at a light trot and into the colors of the meadow. Hunter sees him coming and knows the game— ‘monster-attack.’ Hunter sits back on the cougar pelt to watch and enjoy as Trell rushes in, this time with a bearskin over his head and twirls as before in a dance. Asmel is horrified and 'screams like a stuck pig,' according to a later telling of the story by Hunter and Trell.
“Damn you, Hunter, you knew all along.” Asmel throws apple cores, his cup, clumps of grass, anything that he can reach, at Hunter who's bent over with laughter and hobble-skipping away toward Trell.
“Help, help,” Hunter taunts playfully, “there’s a moss-headed, mad man throwing dangerous nuts and apple cores.” Hunter teases, mimicking bursts of Asmel's high pitched scream, while he and Trell run around laughing and backslapping so hard that they both fall backwards into the stream and begin splashing each other like two frivolous youngsters.
“Hunter, what are you doing? Are you crazy? You’ve finally lost it all together ... ass-hole.” Asmel feels left out as he watches the two interact with such freedom and trust. They seem to have the same bond that he's always had with Hunter. He feels their brotherly bond being threatened and doesn't understand where their long friendship stands with Trell, a vertant, in the picture.
Then Asmel sees it, lopping forward merrily across the huge meadow sending butterflies lifting from the clover and coneflowers. It gallops sideways, and then, hearing laughter, pauses and looks in that direction. Like a missile spotting its target, it runs lickety-split past Asmel and heads directly toward the stream, whining at something it sees.
“Bear,” yells Asmel, incapacitated under the hickory tree, his leg splinted and shoulder strapped.
Hunter jumps from the water. “Where?”
If bear cubs can fly, this one tries. It seems to glide directly at Trell, and with a playful squeal it lands with a resounding splash.
“Get the gun, Hunter. Shoot it!” Asmel’s face is red as he attempts to pull himself toward the rifle. "It's attacking Telly."
Trell and the bear roll together, black then white, over and over in the water. The sounds that they make answer each other. Asmel stops where he is, hits the heel of his hand to his forehead, and listens. “Now, you’re gonna tell me he talks 'bear'?”
“Shit ... if I know!” Hunter turns his hands palm up and squats down beside his friend to watch what seems impossible. Trell and the black bear cub appear to be catching and eating fish.
Eventually, Trell exits the water and the cub, shaking a spray, doddles along behind. The little one’s black nose twitches toward the sweetness of a pile of Johnathans beside Blathen who throws one, hoping to fend off the smelly, wet thing.
To Blathen’s wonderment, the cub catches the apple in its mouth. Blathen laughs, "Daddy, daddy watch … Papa, watch." He senses a new game, so, he winds up and lobs another. It's right on target. The cub chomps away apple core and all; juicy slobber of satisfaction drips from his muzzle.
“Will ya look at that?” Asmel begins to understand the way of things at this camp and actually relaxes with a big belly laugh which hurts but is a welcome response. Hunter and Trell smile as if to say, ‘shit, finally.’
Eyes sparkling, the cub sits up on his rear haunches, waves his front paws and squeaks at his new playmate. Blathen takes a bite and throws another apple.
“Does he know he’s playing with a bear?” Asmel asks.
“Beh, Beh.” Blathen points, teasing the cub with another toss.
“Guess that’s a ‘yes,’ old pal.” Hunter hands Asmel a cup of echinacea tea. “Good name for a mascot … Beh.”
“What is ‘mascot’?” Trell asks, leaning against the willow, feeding Zee.
“Telly asks a question?” Asmel, the man of many questions, smiles thoughtfully at the simplicity of Trell’s question compared to the complexity of his own.
Beh snuggles next to Trell with Blathen and Zee. Wonder what the hairless one is drinking. Smells good. He nudges the milk pouch hoping for a taste. Trell bats the top of the cub's head and emits a throaty bark. Beh nuzzles his nose into Trell’s lap, and rolling his eyes with disappointment, goes to sleep.
You’ve had enough fish and apples, young giant. Trell yawns and begins to nod off. Tomorrow, I’ll milk enough for you to share. He rests his lonely hand on the cub’s heaving side. Where is my Gima?
Meanwhile, Hunter is cooking hickory smoked steaks. The aroma travels and curious animals sniff. One in particular, a ravenous young cougar snarls at the north edge of camp. Asmel sees the hunger in her amber eyes and throws a large cut of raw meat in her direction. She dodges in for it, gives it a shake and rushes back into the cornfield.
******
On this the sixth day, weak, thirsty and hungry, Gima decides to slide down from her comfortable oak fork cradle to scout for food and water. Disoriented and still unable to focus her vision, she wanders westward along miles of narrow deer trails until she comes to an expansive, peaceful lake surrounded by beech and maple trees with silky white water lilies flowering along its edge. She collapses to drink, digs five-inch crawfish from their tunnels to eat her fill and at last, wades into the peaceful, green envelope to bathe.
Pleased with her progress, Gima sighs and, sitting on the mossy bank, swishes her feet in the water. She enjoys the sounds around her, crappies splashing for midges, green-headed mallards squawk landing on the lake, others on the shore, quack, preening chestnut-brown feathers.
Gima hums a simple tune, scoops up reddish bank mud and generously rubs it all over her body for protection and camouflage. Then she pushes herself back from the shore to a dry, grassy area and lies back to rest. A red squirrel, watching from above, dances from limb to limb chattering away.
“Silly fellow, what is it?”
Blue jays argue and dive bomb around their nest site while a wild canary whistles then stops. Ground twigs crack under step.
A blur lumbers toward her.
“Trelly?”
It laughs. It’s not Trell.
Other footsteps rush from behind. A foul, musky stench with a hint of fresh skunk encircles her and she hears familiar mumbling.
Fear flashes a warning. Escape, but where? Gima tries to make it into the water. I know they can't swim. Slowed by weakness and clumsy with fever, she slips on the lakeshore's muddy bank and falls forward. With her one good hand, she frantically digs the earth, barely inching forward toward the water's edge.
| Author Notes |
New Vocabulary in Chapter 28
up-way tunnel- Vermel term for tunnels that lead from Under Earth to topside or Upper Earth crappie- a lake fish midge-an insect that lands on the water; fish eat them HERBAL INFORMATION: ECHINACEA- an herbal remedy prepared from the pulverized leaves and stems of purple coneflowers, thought to bolster the immune system; Echinacea (E. purpurea, angustifolia, pallida), while more famous for its immune-enhancing properties, was used topically by Native Americans and white settlers to heal wounds, insect stings, and snake bites. Scientific studies confirm that plant extracts are anti-inflammatory and hasten skin repair. Chemical constituents of echinacea also protect collagen (the protein that gives skin its strength) from free radical damage, as can happen after exposure to ultraviolet light. The plant also inhibits hyaluronidase, an enzyme that digests connective tissue (including the gel-like matrix in the deeper layers of the skin). Theoretically, inhibit of this enzyme can help keep that skin Jello intact, retard the spread of toxins through tissues, and keep tissues from leaking fluids (as happens after a bee sting). Echinacea also has some activity against bacterial and fungi. http://www.herbco.com/t-herbs-for-skin.aspx MARIGOLD: The marigold plant acts as an anti-inflammatory and soothing agent, helping to reduce inflammation due to irritation, pain and swelling. By speeding up healing time, the marigold also protects against bacterial infection when used on burns, stings and other inflammation of the body or on the skin. Marigold can be used on any inflamed or infected skin, and even aids in reducing varicose ulcers. A compress of marigold flowers is used on irritated and inflamed skin, while a juice made from marigold leaves can be used to heal warts. Marigold juice may be made not only from leaves, but from stems and flowers as well. Sponsored Links Read more: Marigolds Used for Health | eHow.com http://www.ehow.com/info_8085116_marigolds-used-health.html#ixzz1p8jDEpJr Create a lotion by cooking fresh marigold flowers in preheated lard. After stirring, leave the mixture overnight and reheat before straining into a jar to be used to soothe skin irritations such as burns. COMFREY root is often added to this mixture for added healing benefits Read more: Marigolds Used for Health | eHow.com http://www.ehow.com/info_8085116_marigolds-used-health.html#ixzz1p8jZPYtQ COMFREY: One of the most common uses of Comfrey extract is as a skin treatment. The plant contains the small organic molecule allantoin, which is thought to stimulate cell growth and repair while simultaneously depressing inflammation From the Univ. of Maryland Med. Center as sited on Wikipedia CORN: The fresh silks contain allantoin; see 'comfrey'above. ALOE: The juice from its leaves stimulates skin growth and repair; reduces pain and inflammation; may be taken internally; increases production of fibroblast cells responsible for collagen in the skin's dermis. http://www.ehow.com/list_7470591_healing-properties-aloe.html UNDER EARTH SPECIES: Vertant-the off-spring of two Vermel; looks human. Vermel-mutated humans who live in Under Earth; communicate via sign language and various sounds; noted by their single, particulate-collector naris; one eye; dark or red, coarse body hair; flat or twisted feet with three to six long toes; three fingered hands with long curving claw-like nails; pointed teeth in irregular, double rows; intelligent, but with strong base instincts. Particulate collector - a Vermel adaptation to living in a polluted underground; mutation ; porous tubular filaments; can extend from the naris in a searching fashion; they both taste and smell; alert to emotions of other species; Vertants may or may not have remnant nodes in nasal pharynx tissue(back of throat). dissident-rebel, nonconformist, protester; somebody who publicly disagrees with an established political or religious system or organization. DRINKS & SMOKING Elixirs: Euphoric-Blue - arouses passion without arousing anger or fear Green - calms aggression and base tendencies to mutilate, kill, cannibalize Caramel-clarity(female enhancement) Ruby-rigidity (male enhancement) Fitzel- a carbonated alcoholic beverage; a light intoxication; makes one funny, silly, uninhibited, kind Smoking- usually a mix of madine and sedderthal Hallucinogenic fungi grown in Bellow City Fazil- a smoking or chewing compound that stains the teeth Arnag-a fungus grown as food; a favorite rubber-chew flavor LOCATIONS: Under Earth- a civilization that exists totally under ground; Vermel territory. Bellow City- located in Under Earth. Jacknel's Arena- where Hunter and Trell were trained and exploited as 'Man' and 'Man #2'. Club ErrOw- a dance club downstairs; Chambers for coupling are upstairs. Sadie's Palace - a night spot where Vertant males are displayed for Vermel viewing and pleasure; masterbation columns are very popular in the Mural Room as is the free elixir bar. Alitian - Sir Alitus was the atrium's designer CHARACTERS: Gima-a Vertant; rescued and raised by Hunter and Asmel Trell- a Vertant; raised by Vermel, escaped to Upper Earth; has not yet learned to speak but has learned to understand it from Gima, his mate. Blathen- Gima and Trell's Vermel son; single, particulate-collector naris, one eye; on the hierarchy of Vermel his appearance labels him a Prime-One. Zee-Gima's second son who looks human Hunter- Nigel once a business man in the city; was captured and tortured by Ticum to become 'Man' in Jacknel's Arena in Bellow City; 'Papa' to Gima; suffers from PTSD. Asmal- a survivalist; built a cabin in the mountains; rescued Hunter; raised Gima with Hunter; 'Papa-Azzy' to Gima Ticum-Vermel;Jacknel's Circus trainer; beat and tortured Hunter; deceased Trum- Vermel; Ticum's brother; Trell's trainer at Jacknel's Arena Sadie- runs a display and pleasure house featuring male Vertants. Milim - Sadie's assistant a Vermel Picar-Vertant at Sadie's Jami-Picar's Vertant lover; Sadie's favorite. Mr. Arnst- Trell's abusive uncle; now a caznu(neutered)and no longer abusive Rom- Arnst's younger companion, lover Disposal Officer- Designated by numbers e.g. DO-45, DO-50; executioners; but they sell their prisoners, usually Vertants, on the black-market to various shady characters like Jacknel and Sadie for use in sport, entertainment, pleasure and artificial insemination collection and sales. Trolious- Head of Ministerial Affairs; Trell's father; Sadie's first cousin Lida - Trolious' wife; Trell's mother Betta - Lida's sister in Cindel City; raised Trell Larue- Assistant of Ministerial Affairs; canzu(involuntarilly castrated by Dyrel) Vermel Brackus- Larue's Vertant charge and lover Lem- the youngest Vertant to escape with Larue's help Rolak- Chief Enforcement Officer Vermel speech/sounds: twortle-a sound pattern distinctive to the Vermel; a combination of glottal stops, tongue click-clucks and snorts; an assertive pattern. chort- throaty sounds varying in tonal inflection and duration; normal speech; he chorts=he says. toning- saying; using a series of sounds other than speech thrumping songs-songs Trell learned growing up in Bellow City, Under Earth; melodic, throaty, glottal. Vocabulary: particulate collector - a Vermel adaptation, mutation; porous tubular filaments; can extend from the naris in a searching fashion; they both taste and smell; alert to emotions of other species; Vertants may or may not have remnants; nodes in nasal pharynx tissue may be all that remain in Vertant. Arnag-a fungus grown as food; a favorite rubber-chew flavor Caznu-neutered male Vermel; usually gay and neutered by choice for the good of the gene pool by decree of Trolious ; castration is a common punishment regardless of sexual orientation. And-End - Amen Pernard- a Vermel curse Dangle- a Vermel penis; they have two dangles. Mintrinet - minute alum- short for aluminium; usually recycled cans; a valued metal. mold-blossom - a fungi; small, dark brown and caramel colored flowerettes cluster to form a large crysantehmum-type flower; its heavy, sweet decaying scent is used in perfumed oil. |
By barkingdog
Dear Reader: 'Gima' is Fantasy-Adventure with a touch of Horror. This chapter is the first of several that contain aspects of Horror. The author notes ' GLOSSARY is included by request. It's not a required part of the reading. It's merely to assist a new audience. Have fun reading. :) barking dog
Previously: Gima, a vertant, left camp to find healing herbs, was bitten by a rattlesnake and pursued by a cougar. She eluded the cougar and treated the bite with the paw-paw plant's protein digestive fruit.
After a week, recovering in an oak tree, she's hungry and needs water. Her vision still blurred, she travels until she finds Duck Lake. She rests with a water lily in her hair, thinking about Trell, her mate.
Chapter 28
Blue jays argue and dive bomb around their nest site while a wild canary whistles then stops. Ground twigs crack under step.
A blur lumbers toward her.
“Trelly?”
It laughs. It’s not Trell.
Other footsteps rush from behind. A foul, musky stench with a hint of fresh skunk encircles her, and she hears familiar mumbling.
Fear flashes a warning. Escape, but where? Gima tries to make it into the water. I know they can't swim. Slowed by weakness and clumsy with fever, she slips on the lakeshore's muddy bank and falls forward. With her one good hand, she frantically digs the earth, barely inching forward toward the water's edge.
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| Author Notes |
UNDER EARTH SPECIES:
Vertant-the off-spring of two Vermel;looks human. Vermel-mutated humans who live in Under Earth; communicate via sign language and various sounds; noted by their single, particulate-collector naris; one eye; dark or red, coarse body hair; flat or twisted feet with three to six long toes; three fingered hands with long curving claw-like nails; pointed teeth in irregular, double rows; intelligent, but with strong base instincts. Particulate collector - a Vermel adaptation to living in a polluted underground; mutation ; porous tubular filaments; can extend from the naris in a searching fashion; they both taste and smell; alert to emotions of other species; Vertants may or may not have remnant nodes in nasal pharynx tissue(back of throat). dissident-rebel, nonconformist, protester; somebody who publicly disagrees with an established political or religious system or organization. DRINKS & SMOKING Elixirs: Euphoric-Blue - arouses passion without arousing anger or fear Green - calms aggression and base tendencies to mutilate, kill, cannibalize Caramel-clarity(female enhancement) Ruby-rigidity (male enhancement) Fitzel- a carbonated alcoholic beverage; a light intoxication; makes one funny, silly, uninhibited, kind Smoking- usually a mix of madine and sedderthal Hallucinogenic fungi grown in Bellow City Fazil- a smoking or chewing compound that stains the teeth Arnag-a fungus grown as food; a favorite rubber-chew flavor LOCATIONS: Under Earth- a civilization that exists totally under ground; Vermel territory. Bellow City- located in Under Earth. Jacknel's Arena- where Hunter and Trell were trained and exploited as 'Man' and 'Man #2'. Club ErrOw- a dance club downstairs; Chambers for coupling are upstairs. Sadie's Palace - a night spot where Vertant males are displayed for Vermel viewing and pleasure; masterbation columns are very popular in the Mural Room as is the free elixir bar. Alitian - Sir Alitus was the atrium's designer CHARACTERS: Gima-a Vertant; rescued and raised by Hunter and Asmel Trell- a Vertant; raised by Vermel, escaped to Upper Earth; has not yet learned to speak but has learned to understand it from Gima, his mate. Blathen- Gima and Trell's Vermel son; single, particulate-collector naris, one eye; on the hierarchy of Vermel his appearance labels him a Prime-One. Zee-Gima's second son who looks human Hunter- Nigel once a business man in the city; was captured and tortured by Ticum to become 'Man' in Jacknel's Arena in Bellow City; 'Papa' to Gima; suffers from PTSD. Asmal- a survivalist; built a cabin in the mountains; rescued Hunter; raised Gima with Hunter; 'Papa-Azzy' to Gima Ticum-Vermel;Jacknel's Circus trainer; beat and tortured Hunter; deceased Trum- Vermel; Ticum's brother; Trell's trainer at Jacknel's Arena Sadie- runs a display and pleasure house featuring male Vertants. Milim - Sadie's assistant a Vermel Picar-Vertant at Sadie's Jami-Picar's Vertant lover; Sadie's favorite. Mr. Arnst- Trell's abusive uncle; now a caznu(neutered)and no longer abusive Rom- Arnst's younger companion, lover Disposal Officer- Designated by numbers e.g. DO-45, DO-50; executioners; but they sell their prisoners, usually Vertants, on the black-market to various shady characters like Jacknel and Sadie for use in sport, entertainment, pleasure and artificial insemination collection and sales. Trolious- Head of Ministerial Affairs; Trell's father; Sadie's first cousin Lida - Trolious' wife; Trell's mother Betta - Lida's sister in Cindel City; raised Trell Larue- Assistant of Ministerial Affairs; canzu(involuntarilly castrated by Dyrel) Vermel Brackus- Larue's Vertant charge and lover Lem- the youngest Vertant to escape with Larue's help Rolak- Chief Enforcement Officer Vermel speech/sounds: twortle-a sound pattern distinctive to the Vermel; a combination of glottal stops, tongue click-clucks and snorts; an assertive pattern. chort- throaty sounds varying in tonal inflection and duration; normal speech; he chorts=he says. toning- saying; using a series of sounds other than speech thrumping songs-songs Trell learned growing up in Bellow City, Under Earth; melodic, throaty, glottal. Vocabulary: particulate collector - a Vermel adaptation, mutation; porous tubular filaments; can extend from the naris in a searching fashion; they both taste and smell; alert to emotions of other species; Vertants may or may not have remnants; nodes in nasal pharynx tissue may be all that remain in Vertant. Arnag-a fungus grown as food; a favorite rubber-chew flavor Caznu-neutered male Vermel; usually gay and neutered by choice for the good of the gene pool by decree of Trolious ; castration is a common punishment regardless of sexual orientation. And-End - Amen Pernard- a Vermel curse Dangle- a Vermel penis; they have two dangles. Mintrinet - minute alum- short for aluminium; usually recycled cans; a valued metal. mold-blossom - a fungi; small, dark brown and caramel colored flowerettes cluster to form a large crysantehmum-type flower; its heavy, sweet decaying scent is used in perfumed oil. |
By barkingdog
Dear Reader: This is listed as Sci-Fi Horror, actually it is Fantasy-Adventure-Horror, but there is no category for it on FanStory. If you do not like this genre, please do not continue reading. I do not intend to offend anyone, but language and behaviors used are essential to the characters and storyline contrasts. Scenes are meant to arouse a range of emotions. I hope that they do. Thank you for reading. Enjoy.:) barking dog
Previously:
Trell thinks Gima is dead and mourns her loss. Hunter and Asmel are healing from their injuries. Blathen, Zee and Beh are growing.
Gima was captured by a bounty hunter, Pike, and his men. He hopes she will be useful as 'bait' to bring Trell to Bellow City. It's life threatening for the Vermel to stay top-side long enough to find Trell.
We open in Bellow City.
CHAPTER 30
Several weeks after capturing Gima, Pike has healed her snakebite and wants his bounty for the intact merchandise. Several of his men have died from exposure to the sun, and he's, continually, sweating from Top Side Fever. Still, he feels that it's time to attend to business.
Pike has deposited Gima in a holding pen behind Jacknel’s Arena and stands on the arena stage. To add to his feverish discomfort, he's heard that Jacknel's had a bad day.
“Wait here. I’ll report your business to the boss.” Teleck, Jacknel’s efficient assistant, charges through the office door, slamming it behind him.
The silence is broken only by the scampering of rats and their cousins fluttering in the rafters. Pike's hump feels a twinge, a sudden premonition to leave, but he pushes it aside sure that it's just the fever's dehydration, not his usual sixth-sense.
******
It had not been a good day for Jacknel. The crowd that usually packed the Arena's stands for the opening-day event of the Seasonal Warrior Games had been smaller than expected. Jacknel had invested a great deal of time and money organizing the afternoon warm-up to the evening’s extravaganza. He’d scheduled a pair of equally matched, top rated Vertant fighters, knowing that the two Vertant giants’ reputations for brutality would fill his coffers with critons, as blood thirsty vermel would travel far and pay highly to see them destroy one another. He’d advertised for months. But, just two hours ago, it all went wrong, and Jacknel ended up losing at both the box office and in the Arena.
Jacknel's Vertant Warrior, whom he had brutally molested the night before, had succumbed to the well-oiled, fierce champion from his rival promoter, Warik of Upperton. Recently, Warik's small warrior training facility had been drawing attention away from Jacknel’s shows, and Jacknel had hoped that this contest would end Warik’s growing reputation for undefeatable vertant warriors, and original flamboyant choreography and costumes. To counteract the latter, he’d even seen fit to pay his trainer Trum five hundred critons to design unique weaponry and lighting.
Jacknel, excited about improving the shows, offered Trum suggestions such as pointing several audience-control lasers at the stage. Trum looked away and rolled his eye. He turned back, smiled and said he'd think about it, knowing that he had no intention of resetting the entire system to stun; such a reset would render all the lasers ineffective for crowd-control. Very bad idea. Besides, he wasn't about to waste a warrior to a laser. Too fast, too clean, too silent. Where was the fun in that? Where was the entertainment without spurting fluids, growls and disembowelment?
Earlier in the day, around noon, Warik, dressed like a peacock in high season, had marched in through the front gates past the crowd at the box office with a replacement fighter for his agreed upon champion warrior. Jacknel was aghast at the brazen entrance—through the front gates— and astonished that a switch had been made without consulting him.
Warik, being Warik, merely reached his designer rat-skin jacketed arm around Jacknel’s shoulder and, jostling Jacknel closer, jokingly explained that he’d had to ‘discipline’ the previously scheduled fighter. Which probably meant that he’d killed him during another of his sudden rages. Warik, standing straighter, taller, than the scoliotic Jacknel and peering through his pince-nez monocle, had assured the livid, older vermel that his recently captured dissident had been expertly trained. He guaranteed Jacknel an excellent match.
However, it was too late; hundreds of patrons left their seats in a rage when they saw the unknown fighter, and the word rapidly spread that the event had been altered.
A green faced warty female, dragging her pale, gray offspring, chorted, “Jacknel’s cheating us again.”
“Not me, I’m demanding my money back.” An elderly man with a bent hump beat his way through the crowd with his cane.
“And, me … I’m no sucker.” Disposal Officer Fifty grabbed his buddy, Disposal Office Forty-five, by the arm. “Let’s go.” Officer Forty-five stumbled, spilling his pig chips and fitzel on a primping, curly blonde female.
“Dragon fodder ... cobra fart." the blonde yelled brushing herself off as Officer Forty-five ran for the exit bent over with laughter.
The rush of the exiting crowd met those in the street, waiting for tickets. It was like a great wave. It washed prospects clean. With the Arena only a quarter full, the pig sickle and fitzel peddlers did their best to make a living. They chanted competitive specials and tripped each other, sabotaging products whenever they had a chance. Wasted food and drink laid in seats and up and down the aisles.
Jacknel was livid, pacing on the side lines, arms crossed, cursing Warick who sat gloating in the first row with his harlequin-suede derby slightly askew and his over the knee, sewer-rat skin boots crossed, cavalierly, at the ankles. Warik leaned back in his seat while his entourage of ‘devoted’ vertant females cooed and fondled him.
Warik’s sleek, tall warrior stepped easily onto the Arena's high stage. He wore only Warik’s brand, a circled horizontal triple bar on his right cheek and a black pig’s skin loin cloth. Seeing that the youth was only minimally scarred -- a three pronged tear across his shoulder, another running from his buttock onto this thigh and a strange, smooth welt on his left cheek, Jacknel hoped that his experienced champion would win. But in only eight rounds of the promised twenty, his weakened fighter was pummeled to death by the swift, exceedingly strong, light haired newcomer, Picar, son of Betta, first cousin of Trell.
Right now, it's late afternoon, and Jacknel needs some good news. He pushes open the filthy, office door, letting the flies out or in, depending … and stomps onto the stage, chomping a deep-fried pig chop. The two Vermel, one anxious for his bounty money, the other anxious for a prize captive to boost his ticket sales, meet on the bloodied Arena stage beneath its rust red, domed ceiling. Hungry for the notorious, valued commodity, Trell, Jacknel licks the chop bone and tosses it at Pike. “Well …?”
Beady eyes sway in the dome's arches. Small gray tongues lick in anticipation of their turns at the pools of blood and the savory bugs that trace thin paths around the floor’s red lakes. The minimal light from flickering gas lamps around the edge of the stage give a strange upward shadow effect to the two eerie figures and cast long thin wavering forms behind them as the pompous business sharks take center stage. Behind them the audience risers wait to echo any argument in empty darkness. On with the show.
Jacknel paces in his purple cape and black pig suede, hip-high boots. His favorite antique, a gold handled saber, sways at his side. Prior to Pike’s entering the Arena Complex though its front gates, Jacknel had seen the new merchandise, Gima, in the back alley’s pen area. He’s not pleased.
With his hands clasped behind him, Jacknel turns to Pike and, red faced, begins. “I sent you for Trell and only Trell … and you bring me a common, vertant female. Do you expect a reward? Have your processes begun to falter? ”
“No, sir. But, but she’s… she’s …”
“She’s a useless, dark-haired bitch. That’s what she is.” Jacknel bloats with anger and, darkening to magenta, shows his Prime One collector. Pike, being only a level three with no spewing ability, backs off. “I invested in your crew because you are … or were the best."
In one oft' practiced move, Jacknel unsheathes his saber and Swish! Pike’s right forearm flies through the air, bouncing twice before landing – Thud—on the arena floor. Pike watches in disbelief, as his blood sprays everywhere— in Jacknel ‘s face, on the office door, up to the eyes in the rafters—where ever his arm points. He slips at Jacknel’s feet and groveling, pleads, “But sir … Trell ...”
A diamond-studded tongue, panting through a pointed toothy grin, sends intermittent reflections into the rafters as Jackel gives his cape a triumphant swirl. He slurps Pike’s warm blood from his face and sheathes his saber.
Jacknel is joyous, like a child at play on the Subby Side tracks with pigs' heads, when he kicks Pike's head with a spiked boot. Blood flows as Pike slides across the arena floor through the day’s red pools, adding his blood to the mix.
Jacknel sneers at Pike's shocked expression and continues. “Trell … you dare mention his name without his hairless vertant ass suffering in one of my pens. His life should be mine. But yours will do.” A minimal acidic spew to Pike’s leg, and Jacknel glares with satisfaction as leather chaps, flesh, sinue and bone sizzle and melt away. “You are slowly diminishing to meet my lowered expectations of you,“ he laughs maniacally.
“Stop, Jacknel. She … that one out there. She knows …” Pike attempts to point toward the alley with his remaining hand and explain Gima's importance in capturing Trell.
“She knows what all vertant know … that they are useless chattel. I’ll take her off your hands,” Jacknel laughs spritzing Pike’s other arm, “now that you have none.”
Pike, a mere one-legged body, kicking itself in slippery circles, screams in agony.
“No more, let me live, no more, Jacknel, please.”
“Only if you remain silent, my cousin … I only let you live because you are family.”
To remain silent meant only one thing— Pike takes a deep breath and protrudes his tongue. Jacknel calmly walks over, takes the bulb-tipped tongue in his hand and kneeling down bites it off, chews and swallows. He wipes his mouth with a black suede handkerchief, folds it neatly and puts it back in his vest pocket.
Picking his teeth with a gold-tipped claw, the master of his arena saunters to stand stage-left, out of the light. As Pike slowly spins in torment in the twilight of the dome, Jacknel from the darkened off-stage area, matter-of-factly, chorts, “Teleck.” Where are you? “ Teleck.”
Obedient and ever present, Teleck darts out from another shadowed corner. “Yes, sir.”
“Oh, there you are … Teleck, take my poor cousin to the surgeon. He’s had an accident.” Jacknel smiles. “Then, cage him for the freak show.”
Pike’s eye, washed with blood from his head wound, widens with horror. He’d rather be dead, but all he can do is rumble muffled throat sounds. With no hands to sign or a tongue to speak, he’s trapped, forever at Jacknel’s mercy. Gima’s value as ‘bait’ churns in Pike’s head; it’s useless information to a circus freak. Whereas, to a bounty hunter, it might have been worth a cartoom of critons.
"Finally, my day improves." Jacknel with a little pep in his step throws the exit door open and walks outside to the alley. Now, to the verdant female. “Let’s have a look at you.”
Gima, sitting naked on pelt tatters, shivers in holding pen number thirty-three which reeks of a former female. It’s larger than the one next to it, where Trell was held four years ago.
Ready for a different kind of fun, Jacknel's eye roves up and down the huddling, wide-eyed 'split-tail.' Orange drool and remnants of Pike's tongue accumulate on Jacknel's chin as he pokes Gima with a nearby prod used for such merchandise. Zap— the prod speaks, repeatedly, with each of Jacknel’s searching glares. Zap!
| Author Notes |
I would like to thank amfunny for the art work, 'Cut-Up.'
UNDER EARTH SPECIES: Vertant-the off-spring of two Vermel; looks human. Vermel-mutated humans who live in Under Earth; communicate via sign language and various sounds; noted by their single, particulate-collector naris; one eye; dark or red, coarse body hair; flat or twisted feet with three to six long toes; three fingered hands with long curving claw-like nails; pointed teeth in irregular, double rows; intelligent, but with strong base instincts. Particulate collector - a Vermel adaptation to living in a polluted underground; mutation ; porous tubular filaments; can extend from the naris in a searching fashion; they both taste and smell; alert to emotions of other species; Verdants may or may not have remnants, nodes in nasal pharynx tissue(back of throat). dissident-rebel, nonconformist, protester; somebody who publicly disagrees with an established political or religious system or organization. DRINKS & SMOKING Elixirs: Euphoric-Blue - arouses passion without arousing anger or fear Green - calms aggression and base tendencies to mutilate, kill, cannibalize Caramel-clarity(female enhancement) Ruby-rigidity (male enhancement) Violet- given to submissives, primarily Vertants, to change their behavior to aggressive in order to please the Vermel customer at Club ErrOw's Chambers. Fitzel- a carbonated alcoholic beverage; a light intoxication; makes one funny, silly, uninhibited, kind Smoking- usually a mix of madine and sedderthal Hallucinogenic fungi grown in Bellow City Fazil- a smoking or chewing compound that stains the teeth Arnag-a fungus grown as food; a favorite rubber-chew flavor LOCATIONS: Under Earth- a civilization that exists totally under ground; Vermel territory. Bellow City- located in Under Earth. Jacknel's Arena- where Hunter and Trell were trained and exploited as 'Man' and 'Man #2'. Club ErrOw- a dance club downstairs; Chambers for coupling are upstairs. Sadie's Palace - a night spot where Vertant males are displayed for Vermel viewing and pleasure; masterbation columns are very popular in the Mural Room as is the free elixir bar. Alitian - Sir Alitus was the atrium's designer CHARACTERS: Gima-a Vertant; rescued and raised by Hunter and Asmel Trell- a Vertant; raised by Vermel, escaped to Upper Earth; has not yet learned to speak but has learned to understand it from Gima, his mate. Blathen- Gima and Trell's Vermel son; single, particulate-collector naris, one eye; on the hierarchy of Vermel his appearance labels him a Prime-One. Zee-Gima's second son who looks human Hunter- Nigel once a business man in the city; was captured and tortured by Ticum to become 'Man' in Jacknel's Arena in Bellow City; 'Papa' to Gima; suffers from PTSD. Asmal- a survivalist; built a cabin in the mountains; rescued Hunter; raised Gima with Hunter; 'Papa-Azzy' to Gima Ticum-Vermel;Jacknel's Circus trainer; beat and tortured Hunter; deceased Trum- Vermel; Ticum's brother; Trell's trainer at Jacknel's Arena Sadie- runs a display and pleasure house featuring male Vertants. Milim - Sadie's assistant a Vermel Picar-Vertant at Sadie's Jami-Picar's Vertant lover; Sadie's favorite. Mr. Arnst- Trell's abusive uncle; now a caznu(neutered)and no longer abusive Rom- Arnst's younger companion, lover Disposal Officer- Designated by numbers e.g. DO-45, DO-50; executioners; but they sell their prisoners, usually Vertants, on the black-market to various shady characters like Jacknel and Sadie for use in sport, entertainment, pleasure and artificial insemination collection and sales. Trolious- Head of Ministerial Affairs Lida - Trolious' wife Larue- Assistant of Ministerial Affairs; canzu(involuntarilly castrated by Dyrel) Vermel Brackus- Larue's Vertant charge and lover Lem- the youngest Vertant to escape with Larue's help Rolak- Chief Enforcement Officer Pike-the lead bounty hunter; brought Gima to Jacknel; Jacknel's cousin Teleck-Jacknel's office assistant; a voyeur. Beh- a black bear; male; followed Trell home; camp's mascot. Vermel speech/sounds: twortle-a sound pattern distinctive to the Vermel; a combination of glottal stops, tongue click-clucks and snorts; an assertive pattern. chort- throaty sounds varying in tonal inflection and duration; normal speech; he chorts=he says. toning- saying; using a series of sounds other than speech thrumping songs-songs Trell learned growing up in Bellow City, Under Earth; melodic, throaty, glottal. Vocabulary: particulate collector - a Vermel adaptation, mutation; porous tubular filaments; can extend from the naris in a searching fashion; they both taste and smell; alert to emotions of other species; Vertants may or may not have remnants; nodes in nasal pharynx tissue may be all that remain in Vertant. Arnag-a fungus grown as food; a favorite rubber-chew flavor Caznu-neutered male Vermel; usually gay and neutered by choice for the good of the gene pool by decree of Trolious ; castration is a common punishment regardless of sexual orientation. And-End - Amen Pernard- a Vermel curse Dangle- a Vermel penis; they have two dangles. Mintrinet - minute alum- short for aluminium; usually recycled cans; a valued metal. mold-blossom - a fungi; small, dark brown and caramel colored flowerettes cluster to form a large crysantehmum-type flower; its heavy, sweet decaying scent is used in perfumed oil. Events: Warrior Games - Under Earth competitions to the death; all are eligible, male, female, Vertant or Vermel; The odds are stacked in favor of the Vermel. |
By barkingdog
Dear Reader: This is actually Fantasy-Adventure-Horror, but there is no category for it on FanStory. If you do not like this genre, please do not continue reading. I do not intend to offend anyone, but language and behaviors used are essential to the characters and storyline contrasts. Scenes are meant to arouse a range of emotions. I hope that they do. Thank you for reading. Enjoy.:) barking dog
Previously:
Gima was captured by Pike and taken to Jacknel's Arena. Jacknel maimed Pike, angry that he'd brought a worthless female Vertant instead of Trell who is valued as a dissident. Maimed, Pike has no tongue or hands to tell Jacknel that he brought Gima for bait, hoping to attract Trell to Bellow City.
With the Warrior Game's slow box office and losing a top fighter to his competitor Warik's fighter, Picar, Jacknel enjoyed torturing Pike.
Chapter 30
"Finally, my day improves." Jacknel with a little pep in his step throws the exit door open and walks outside to the alley. Now, to the verdant female. “Let’s have a look at you.”
Gima, sitting naked on pelt tatters, shivers in holding pen number thirty-three which reeks of a former female. It’s larger than the one next to it, where Trell was held four years ago.
CHAPTER 31
Ready for a different kind of fun, Jacknel's eye roves up and down the huddling, wide-eyed split-tail. Orange drool and bits of Pike's tongue accumulate on his braided beard as he pokes Gima with a nearby prod used for such merchandise. Zap— the prod speaks, simultaneously, with Jacknel’s glare. “Spread your legs,” he demands. When Gima refuses he presses the pole to her stomach—zizzz— until she complies. I like what I see. A rumble comes from his throat.
Without a moment’s hesitation, Jacknel slinks around to the end of the rectangular cage and unlocks its only door. Gnarled and scarred, his anxious hand lowers to the wide belt around his thick waist to stroke the cool metal handcuffs that hang aligned with various divisions of keys, identified by Vermel symbols. He finds a set tagged cage thirty-three.
Jacknel’s deep-set purple eye twitches as thoughts of torture retool his face, and he unlocks a spring-ring just inside the cage, releasing Gima’s chain. His drab-yellow right fist grasps the heavy chain attached to the choke collar around Gima's slender neck. She sits at his mercy in the far back corner; a little thing clenching her legs, rocking, ghostly thin, a near apparition.
He pauses, hands on hips, to relish the pleading look in her watery, lake green eyes. Suddenly, seeking momentum, he hisses, “Hey baby, wakie, wakie,” and jerks the chain tightly upward. Gima gasps and grabs her metal linked slip-collar with both hands. Her own fingers, beneath the collar, press against her choking throat. “Out ... down ... here ... now.” He accents each word with a sudden, sadistic pull. Gima squirms for breath until she tumbles from the three precarious open-grid stairs, falling on the alley’s gravel that grinds into her hands and knees. She falls back, knees and palm bleeding. The chain relaxes, spiraling to the ground. Gima gasps putrid air but air, none the less.
Curved ebony claws, manicured to fierce points, scrape Gima’s scalp as Jacknel grips her hair and pulls her head upward. He cups his swelling pouch and presses it to her upturned face. “I’ll have you … and if you please me,” he raises Gima to standing, backs her against the cage and, meticulously, scratches a single, diamond-jeweled claw path down her cheek, neck and breast, around a nipple to her tight stomach and into the vertant strip of silk that leads between her legs. He laps his pierced tongue along the red path and moans, savoring flavors of fresh air and paw-paws, lakeside mushrooms and fear. Gima whimpers as his drool mixed with spew welts the trail.
Smacking his asymmetrical swollen lips and licking her scraped flesh from his claw, he continues “… mind, only if you please me, I’ll save you from the chambers at Club ErrOww. You’d much rather stay here with me …” he grins, flaunting his dangles. They whip eagerly and strain their length toward her musk. Flirtatiously, one dangle curves and shows its barbs. The other, Jacknel’s favorite, enlarges with its gold nugget and amber implants protruding on its sides. “Wouldn’t you rather stay here with us, my dear?”
His laughter echoes in the alley and toward Main Street of Bellow City’s Platform Thirty-One. Passers-by think nothing of it. It’s that time of the day. A young couple rush down the alley to stop behind the steel fence, hoping to hear the usual screams that follow Jacknel’s outburst of insane glee. They smoke tartanulum and wait to copulate, listening for free titillation to heighten their first release of the evening.
“Brolicious bod?”
“What pig snouty-pie?”
“Remember, you promised front section seats for the big Triple Challenge event at the Arena tonight.”
“No worries.” He pulls out the metal chits for section A row twelve, seats twenty-three and twenty-four.
Seeing them, she extends her collector to his pink flowering member and sucks. They collapse on their side of the metal partition. No more waiting for screams.
Back on the Arena side of the alley wall, Jacknel calls for his assistant who pops out of yet another shadowy space—this time between the cages. “Yes, sir.”
“Set up the Ring Table on the stage and bring a bottle of blue.”
“Immediately, sir.”
Jacknel cackles at Gima’s struggle against his hold. His aging pendulums hang low as he waddles away from the cage and flings her like he expects her to stick against the solid metal alley partition. He holds her up against its chill and she shivers while his bulbous tongue licks her face clean of sweat and tears. They intoxicate and arouse him. He breathes her in.
“Our table should be ready, my dear. Shall we?” With an elegant sweep of his hand toward the arena door and a touch to the small of her back—one would think they were off to have tea— he casually invites her to a lover’s tryst or a tête-à-tête —Jacknel style.
Gima digs her toes into the stony alley’s concrete, resisting the chain’s choking pull into the Arena. She whimpers and pees a trail as they cross the threshold.
With the ring-table ready and a bottle of blue provided, a figure crouches. Hidden in the dim inside light, it breathes deeply as its orderly hand unlaces a full cod-piece. It watches the stage.
“Stand here.” Jacknel pushes Gima, face down, over the table designed for its purpose and, stretching her arms to the far forward corners, handcuffs her wrists to two of the many rings. The bottle of blue is on a smaller table to his right. He pulls out the cork with his teeth and spits it at her her back. Gima flinches. He snickers, gulps a long pull of euphoric blue and shudders as it enters his system. Unclipping his cape and belt, he lets them fall. His curly haired well-groomed back hump, fully raised, protrudes through the slits in his ruffled shirt and gray rat-skin vest.
Jacknel paces around the table several times, ceremoniously stooping beside her to rub his hump on her hands and hair. Eventually, he stops several feet behind her, shakes his arms, flutters his hands at his sides and rotates his shoulders to stimulate the vile ooze from the hump's many fleshy openings relieving themselves.
Ready for the prize, Jacknel squats to face it, to open it. His purple eye glimmers when he spreads Gima's legs; he grunts deep persuasive sounds, licking her smooth calf and inner thighs while he ties her ankles to the narrow, marble table's stone, clawfoot legs. Deformity to perfection, the powerful vermel stops to stare at what he'll take, and breathes her in.
As he eyes her smooth round buttocks and quiet slit, his collector slithers, seeking moisture but finds only dry borders. In retaliatory response to her non-responsiveness, Jacknel's cadaverous smelling drool turns to a thick pasty, brown slime. He mumbles ancient vermel phrases and names of renowned torturers and recalls past conquests. Seeing her stillness, Jacknel, surrepticiously, creeps his icy clawed hands from her quivering feet on the floor to her thighs, on up to encompass Gima's slim waist, where he squeezes for slow enjoyable penetration, needing to elicit pain.
Gima cries out at the sudden punctures to her side.
That a girl … louder next time. Jacknel stands to take another swig of blue. His work has just begun.
Teleck moans in the shadows and tosses back a tube of ruby rigidity.
Bent over the table, Gima sees Pike’s severed forearm. She’d recognize it anywhere by its forefinger’s steel claw. Jacknel’s everything Trell told me: sadistic, brutal, and deadly.
With a firm grip on her hair, Jacknel lifts Gima’s head back and slams it into the table. “I’m just warming you up, my sweet. You’ll like this little game. Have you nothing to say?” The open gash on her forehead sends warnings to her entire body. She hears Trell’s voice – ‘I should have done nothing … not said a word’ – and Gima shuts down.
Gima is silent, submissive ... not a further tear or whimper. Trell had shown her his own wounds which he said only increased as his protests grew louder. She knows for the ‘game’ to be a ‘success’ for Jacknel, it needs her active participation. She feels Jacknel stroke her back with something thick and wet and slowly insert something thin and cold. Gima readies herself for the worst; clenching her fists and jaw, she braces to remain silent.
“Let’s see how you welcome this.” Jacknel takes another swig, and expels blue into a tube. Seeing Gima's instant stiffening reaction, he bellows to his favorite member, “Drink up boy,” and expertly forces the stone enhanced dangle into her elixir enhanced darkness. A fire of torn flesh ignites at its size. The snake-like dangle undulates forward. Gima feels it lapping the elixir-blood cocktail which mixed inside as Jacknel begins torrid thrusting—deeper and deeper. He screeches three high-pitched calls of vermel satisfaction at her tightness and pushes to the painful end of her—again and again.
The dark tower of vermel stink and bloat drinks, thrusts, and listens, waiting for the female vertant’s blood curdling, crying answer to his virility. Like all the others, she will scream, curse and resist me many times. I’m sure of it. His passion is held in check, awaiting Gima's ‘answers’ which to Jacknel are calls of love or as close as a vermel can ever get to it.
Except for Teleck’s fast pounding in the shadows, all there is silence. A thumb-sized roach runs up from the floor and across the table, gobbling blue and blood. It crawls over Gima’s arm and exits via a shaking finger, the only evidence that she suffers. Jacknel’s keen hearing tunes to its feet's scratch 'n scurry and, then, goes back listening to only Gima’s even, controlled breathing. No moans. No screams. Not even a whimper? The roach returns. Collector retrieved, it squirts white; reflexive legs twitch between Jacknel’s angry double rows.
“What’s wrong with you?” Jacknel shakes his toy. “You’re alive, bitch. Scream your pain!”
Gima is silent, submissive. Just wait, you perverted piece of shit. Just you wait. I’ll give you nothing—today. Gima doesn’t utter a single cry to increase his pleasure, his size or endurance, or to promote the use of the dangerous barbed twin.
Jacknel reaches under the table for his knotted leather straps and whips Gima’s buttocks and back raw. “Cry out, bitch.” Jacknel tantrums. “Cry out!” He whips and plunges. He bites her neck and shoulders; rips hair from her scalp. His claws sink into her arms, breasts, buttocks ... Her wounds ooze until her body is slick with blood. Still nothing. Like a rag doll, Gima flops under him without resistance. There’s only silence from this victim.
Only silence. I swear that’s all you’ll get from me— raised by Asmel and Hunter, wife of Trell, mother of Blathen the Defender, a Prime One, and Zee, the small. I am all of these. Here and now. Withdrawn into her quiet world, Gima concentrates on the birth of her sons, its pain and its joy, the fighting of wolves, her flight from the cougar and the killing of the rattler. I can survive this. I will not obey to meet your needs. Gima drifts with her memories, and her face relaxes as a peace, a strength, surges through the torn vessel containing her resilient spirit.
| Author Notes |
cod-piece- an outer garment worn over the male genitals
ASAP- 'as soon as possible.' UNDER EARTH SPECIES: Vertant-the off-spring of two Vermel; looks human. Vermel-mutated humans who live in Under Earth; communicate via sign language and various sounds; noted by their single, particulate-collector naris; one eye; dark or red, coarse body hair; flat or twisted feet with three to six long toes; three fingered hands with long curving claw-like nails; pointed teeth in irregular, double rows; intelligent, but with strong base instincts. Particulate collector - a Vermel adaptation to living in a polluted underground; mutation ; porous tubular filaments; can extend from the naris in a searching fashion; they both taste and smell; alert to emotions of other species; Verdants may or may not have remnants, nodes in nasal pharynx tissue(back of throat). dissident-rebel, nonconformist, protester; somebody who publicly disagrees with an established political or religious system or organization. DRINKS & SMOKING Elixirs: Euphoric-Blue - arouses passion without arousing anger or fear Green - calms aggression and base tendencies to mutilate, kill, cannibalize Caramel-clarity(female enhancement) Ruby-rigidity (male enhancement) Violet- given to submissives, primarily Vertants, to change their behavior to aggressive in order to please the Vermel customer at Club ErrOw's Chambers. Fitzel- a carbonated alcoholic beverage; a light intoxication; makes one funny, silly, uninhibited, kind Smoking- usually a mix of madine and sedderthal Hallucinogenic fungi grown in Bellow City Fazil- a smoking or chewing compound that stains the teeth Arnag-a fungus grown as food; a favorite rubber-chew flavor Tartanulum - a tasty smoking compound containing spiders Verbenium - a pill; dissolves under the tongue to speed orgasm; used when time is of the essence. LOCATIONS: Under Earth- a civilization that exists totally under ground; Vermel territory. Bellow City- located in Under Earth. Jacknel's Arena- where Hunter and Trell were trained and exploited as 'Man' and 'Man #2'. Club ErrOw- a dance club downstairs; Chambers for coupling are upstairs. Sadie's Palace - a night spot where Vertant males are displayed for Vermel viewing and pleasure; masterbation columns are very popular in the Mural Room as is the free elixir bar. Alitian - Sir Alitus was the atrium's designer CHARACTERS: Gima-a Vertant; rescued and raised by Hunter and Asmel Trell- a Vertant; raised by Vermel, escaped to Upper Earth; has not yet learned to speak but has learned to understand it from Gima, his mate. Blathen- Gima and Trell's Vermel son; single, particulate-collector naris, one eye; on the hierarchy of Vermel his appearance labels him a Prime-One. Zee-Gima's second son who looks human Hunter- Nigel once a business man in the city; was captured and tortured by Ticum to become 'Man' in Jacknel's Arena in Bellow City; 'Papa' to Gima; suffers from PTSD. Asmal- a survivalist; built a cabin in the mountains; rescued Hunter; raised Gima with Hunter; 'Papa-Azzy' to Gima Ticum-Vermel;Jacknel's Circus trainer; beat and tortured Hunter; deceased Trum- Vermel; Ticum's brother; Trell's trainer at Jacknel's Arena Sadie- runs a display and pleasure house featuring male Vertants. Milim - Sadie's assistant a Vermel Picar-Vertant at Sadie's Jami-Picar's Vertant lover; Sadie's favorite. Mr. Arnst- Trell's abusive uncle; now a caznu(neutered)and no longer abusive Rom- Arnst's younger companion, lover Disposal Officer- Designated by numbers e.g. DO-45, DO-50; executioners; but they sell their prisoners, usually Vertants, on the black-market to various shady characters like Jacknel and Sadie for use in sport, entertainment, pleasure and artificial insemination collection and sales. Trolious- Head of Ministerial Affairs Lida - Trolious' wife Larue- Assistant of Ministerial Affairs; canzu(involuntarilly castrated by Dyrel) Vermel Brackus- Larue's Vertant charge and lover Lem- the youngest Vertant to escape with Larue's help Rolak- Chief Enforcement Officer Pike-the lead bounty hunter; brought Gima to Jacknel; Jacknel's cousin Teleck-Jacknel's office assistant; a voyeur. Beh- a black bear; male; followed Trell home; camp's mascot. Vermel speech/sounds: twortle-a sound pattern distinctive to the Vermel; a combination of glottal stops, tongue click-clucks and snorts; an assertive pattern. chort- throaty sounds varying in tonal inflection and duration; normal speech; he chorts=he says. toning- saying; using a series of sounds other than speech thrumping songs-songs Trell learned growing up in Bellow City, Under Earth; melodic, throaty, glottal. Vocabulary: particulate collector - a Vermel adaptation, mutation; porous tubular filaments; can extend from the naris in a searching fashion; they both taste and smell; alert to emotions of other species; Vertants may or may not have remnants; nodes in nasal pharynx tissue may be all that remain in Vertant. Arnag-a fungus grown as food; a favorite rubber-chew flavor Caznu-neutered male Vermel; usually gay and neutered by choice for the good of the gene pool by decree of Trolious ; castration is a common punishment regardless of sexual orientation. And-End - Amen Pernard- a Vermel curse Dangle- a Vermel penis; they have two dangles. Mintrinet - minute alum- short for aluminium; usually recycled cans; a valued metal. mold-blossom - a fungi; small, dark brown and caramel colored flowerettes cluster to form a large crysantehmum-type flower; its heavy, sweet decaying scent is used in perfumed oil. Events: Warrior Games - Under Earth competitions to the death; all are eligible, male, female, Vertant or Vermel; The odds are stacked in favor of the Vermel. |
By barkingdog
Dear Reader: This is actually Fantasy-Adventure-Horror, but there is no category for it on FanStory. If you do not like this genre, please do not continue reading. I don't intend to offend anyone, but language and behaviors used are essential to the characters and storyline contrasts. Scenes are meant to arouse a range of emotions. I hope that they do. Thank you for reading. Enjoy.:) barking dog
Chapter 30
Jacknel, a sadistic vermel, has violated and beaten Gima. She refuses to cry out and remains silent.
Only silence. I swear that’s all you’ll get from me— raised by Asmel and Hunter, wife of Trell, mother of Blathen the Defender, a Prime One, and Zee, the small. I am all of these. Here and now. Withdrawn into her quiet world, Gima concentrates on the birth of her sons, its pain and its joy, the fighting of wolves, her flight from the cougar and the killing of the rattler. I can survive this. I will not obey to meet your needs. Gima drifts with her memories, and her face relaxes as a peace, a strength, surges through the torn vessel containing her resilient spirit.
| Author Notes |
gambian-as in gambian rat; a large rat species; pets in Under Earth
UNDER EARTH SPECIES: Vertant-the off-spring of two Vermel; looks human. Vermel-mutated humans who live in Under Earth; communicate via sign language and various sounds; noted by their single, particulate-collector naris; one eye; dark or red, coarse body hair; flat or twisted feet with three to six long toes; three fingered hands with long curving claw-like nails; pointed teeth in irregular, double rows; intelligent, but with strong base instincts. Particulate collector - a Vermel adaptation to living in a polluted underground; mutation ; porous tubular filaments; can extend from the naris in a searching fashion; they both taste and smell; alert to emotions of other species; Verdants may or may not have remnants, nodes in nasal pharynx tissue(back of throat). dissident-rebel, nonconformist, protester; somebody who publicly disagrees with an established political or religious system or organization. DRINKS & SMOKING Elixirs: Euphoric-Blue - arouses passion without arousing anger or fear Green - calms aggression and base tendencies to mutilate, kill, cannibalize Caramel-clarity(female enhancement) Ruby-rigidity (male enhancement) Violet- given to submissives, primarily Vertants, to change their behavior to aggressive in order to please the Vermel customer at Club ErrOw's Chambers. Fitzel- a carbonated alcoholic beverage; a light intoxication; makes one funny, silly, uninhibited, kind Smoking- usually a mix of madine and sedderthal Hallucinogenic fungi grown in Bellow City Fazil- a smoking or chewing compound that stains the teeth Arnag-a fungus grown as food; a favorite rubber-chew flavor Tartanulum - a tasty smoking compound containing spiders Verbenium - a pill; dissolves under the tongue to speed orgasm; used when time is of the essence. LOCATIONS: Under Earth- a civilization that exists totally under ground; Vermel territory. Bellow City- located in Under Earth. Jacknel's Arena- where Hunter and Trell were trained and exploited as 'Man' and 'Man #2'. Club ErrOw- a dance club downstairs; Chambers for coupling are upstairs. Sadie's Palace - a night spot where Vertant males are displayed for Vermel viewing and pleasure; masterbation columns are very popular in the Mural Room as is the free elixir bar. Alitian - Sir Alitus was the atrium's designer CHARACTERS: Gima-a Vertant; rescued and raised by Hunter and Asmel Trell- a Vertant; raised by Vermel, escaped to Upper Earth; has not yet learned to speak but has learned to understand it from Gima, his mate. Blathen- Gima and Trell's Vermel son; single, particulate-collector naris, one eye; on the hierarchy of Vermel his appearance labels him a Prime-One. Zee-Gima's second son who looks human Hunter- Nigel once a business man in the city; was captured and tortured by Ticum to become 'Man' in Jacknel's Arena in Bellow City; 'Papa' to Gima; suffers from PTSD. Asmal- a survivalist; built a cabin in the mountains; rescued Hunter; raised Gima with Hunter; 'Papa-Azzy' to Gima Ticum-Vermel;Jacknel's Circus trainer; beat and tortured Hunter; deceased Trum- Vermel; Ticum's brother; Trell's trainer at Jacknel's Arena Sadie- runs a display and pleasure house featuring male Vertants. Milim - Sadie's assistant a Vermel Picar-Vertant at Sadie's Jami-Picar's Vertant lover; Sadie's favorite. Mr. Arnst- Trell's abusive uncle; now a caznu(neutered)and no longer abusive Rom- Arnst's younger companion, lover Disposal Officer- Designated by numbers e.g. DO-45, DO-50; executioners; but they sell their prisoners, usually Vertants, on the black-market to various shady characters like Jacknel and Sadie for use in sport, entertainment, pleasure and artificial insemination collection and sales. Trolious- Head of Ministerial Affairs Lida - Trolious' wife Larue- Assistant of Ministerial Affairs; canzu(involuntarilly castrated by Dyrel) Vermel Brackus- Larue's Vertant charge and lover Lem- the youngest Vertant to escape with Larue's help Rolak- Chief Enforcement Officer Pike-the lead bounty hunter; brought Gima to Jacknel; Jacknel's cousin Teleck-Jacknel's office assistant; a voyeur. Mr. Colwin-Mr. C; manager of Club ErrOw Beh- a black bear; male; followed Trell home; camp's mascot. Vermel speech/sounds: twortle-a sound pattern distinctive to the Vermel; a combination of glottal stops, tongue click-clucks and snorts; an assertive pattern. chort- throaty sounds varying in tonal inflection and duration; normal speech; he chorts=he says. toning- saying; using a series of sounds other than speech thrumping songs-songs Trell learned growing up in Bellow City, Under Earth; melodic, throaty, glottal. Vocabulary: particulate collector - a Vermel adaptation, mutation; porous tubular filaments; can extend from the naris in a searching fashion; they both taste and smell; alert to emotions of other species; Vertants may or may not have remnants; nodes in nasal pharynx tissue may be all that remain in Vertant. Arnag-a fungus grown as food; a favorite rubber-chew flavor Caznu-neutered male Vermel; usually gay and neutered by choice for the good of the gene pool by decree of Trolious ; castration is a common punishment regardless of sexual orientation. And-End - Amen Pernard- a Vermel curse Dangle- a Vermel penis; they have two dangles. Mintrinet - minute alum- short for aluminium; usually recycled cans; a valued metal. mold-blossom - a fungi; small, dark brown and caramel colored flowerettes cluster to form a large crysantehmum-type flower; its heavy, sweet decaying scent is used in perfumed oil. Events: Warrior Games - Under Earth competitions to the death; all are eligible, male, female, Vertant or Vermel; The odds are stacked in favor of the Vermel. |
By barkingdog
Dear Reader: This is actually Fantasy-Adventure-Horror, but there is no category for it on FanStory. If you do not like this genre, please do not continue reading. I don't intend to offend anyone, but language and behaviors used are essential to the characters and storyline contrasts. Scenes are meant to arouse a range of emotions. I hope that they do. Thank you for reading. Enjoy.:) barking dog
Previously:
Trolious beat and violated Gima. By Trolious' order,Teleck, his assistant, has hired two lackeys to deposit her at Club ErrOw for brothal use in a Chamber as a violet enhanced Vertant. To inject violet runs the adrenals at top speed and could kill her. Trolious sees this as final revenge against Gima.
Banya and Brewik, two young vermel, are courting.
CHAPTER 33
And there is no doubt that Banya wants that dream: a station-cabin home in Subby Wayside and litters of young Vermel, playing on the tracks. Like a small red ferret she slinks underneath Brewik and presses her swelling-back’s invitation against his enlarging question.
Banya shyly pulls away and looks toward Heaven’s metal highway and its trail of blinking lights. The two young vermel, isolated by mutual intoxication, chatter love sounds and pant toward a future, away from all of this. Eyes widen in agreement, and they weave through the blur of noise and faceless couples toward the twinkling stairway and neon lit chambers.
Brewik slaps Banya’s abundant backside as they near the steep, metal grid steps. She chortles nervously, tottering in her precarious heels. “I … I… don’t know …” A rush of blue euphoria’s after-effects sends her into ripples of melodic laughter.
“Got ya.” Brewik sweeps her up. His muscles, pumped, sense her as weightless—doll-like while his mind manufactures things that he’ll do to her – especially her feet.
Banya turns her face up toward his, and her bulbous, silver-pierced tongue eagerly swipes across his eye and circles his naris. Banya's nostril flares, and her small body tightens. Coyly, passionately, a silver-flecked lash blinks over her wide green eye and then the content vermel rests her head on his strong shoulder to drift off into thoughts of fertilization, a home, and a family. Safely cradled in Brewik’s arms, waiting their turn at a Chamber, Banya dreams of being filled with young. Brewik jolts her back to the moment when he begins to move ahead, seeing a motion to approach from the man at the top of the stairs.
Suddenly, another couple, pushing forward, charges the line. Rolak, a large unkempt Enforcement Officer, drags a Vertant ‘club-worker,’ Lotik by the hair. Rolak is loud, obnoxious and peaked to perform.
“Outta the way, you two,” Rolak threatens, slamming Brewik against the wall. “Damn, bitch! Hurry, up! This can’t wait all night,” he grunts, grinding on his double-tenting crotch and slapping her roughly forward.
“But I’m hungry, Rolak. You promised …,” Lotik signs, whimpering and sinking to her knees.
“I’ll feed you, later. First things first!” Snarling, he pulls her up by her long ash-blonde hair, nearly lifting her starving frame off the floor; he drags and then pushes, kicking her up the stairs.
Brewik protectively presses Banya close to him and glares. Asshole! I’m gonna kick your … "Shit, Banya what are you doing?" Banya’s round tongue slides perfectly between his double rows. He grabs her tiny foot and, feeling its high twisted arch push into his hand, all else fades. Brewik’s anger subsides.
Halfway up the stairs, Lotik turns and lands a strong kick to Rolak’s jaw.
Rolak grins, grabs her leg, and twists. He likes to play rough, very rough. They fall, sliding, bumping down the metal stairway.
Laughing as the blood flows from his mouth, Rolak spits teeth. “They’ll grow back, no worries, doll.”
Lotik springs to standing at the smell of fresh blood. Her chest heaves and eyes widen. She grabs Rolak’s arm as he swings for her and, using it for leverage, she jumps forward. Mounting him, she wraps her strong legs around his waist. The crowd spreads, making room for what they’ve seen many, many times before – Rolak, the Chief of Enforcement, disciplining a Vertant sex-worker.
“Mmmm, Rolak!” she licks, cooing. Ravenous, Lotik encompasses his mouth with hers and sucks the mixture of seeping blood and drool. Her legs tighten, her nails dig into his back. Lotik is ‘attached.’
She gnaws him first on the neck. Then licks across his cheek …
She’s hungry … shoulda fed her … fresh pig tails, 10 bruicks … ‘n bought her a nip of blue.
Finally, she bites off his ear and swallows it whole.
“Vertant, bitch!” Fuck me for being cheap! Damn! This is gonna cost me!
Suddenly, realizing what she’s done, Lotik snaps back to reality and is face to face with Rolak’s anger. His blood drips down her chin onto his chest. She knows that it’s too late and howls her last call in fear. Oh, father of my father’s, why did I not obey? “Oww, oww—ooooo.”
Those in the street hear her cry. Two of Teleck’s flunkies, pushing a cart, take note.
“Rolak’s off tonight!” signs one.
“Sounds like it.” The object under the tarp curls smaller.
“Let’s drop this off and watch.”
“Hurry, before we miss it all.” They key open a chute at the club's front entrance and slant the cart. Gima, hog tied, her ear stapled with a violet tag, indicating inject, slides down to a receiving bin below.
Claws clicking and collectors waving to the Duba Buta beat piped into the street, the two lackeys sweep inside Club ErrOw through the brass and glass, revolving door. They eagerly join the crowd that's already gathered to watch Rolak proceed with another of his 'disciplinary actions.'
In one swift move, Rolak pushes Lotik’s head back and rams two of his three fingers deep into her frightened eyes. Plucked out, cords trailing, he shakes them off to the floor.
Instinctively, Lotik's legs grip tighter, and her nails anchor deep into his back as her teeth snap aimlessly at blood scents in the air. Panic yields no escape.
“Snap, snap, baby!” Quickly, efficiently, he breaks her with one tight jerk to the waist. She squeaks and goes limp, her legs release. The crowd gasps satisfaction. They cheer, clap and celebrate the free show. Several off-duty enforcers, members of Rolak’s division, are proud of one of their own.
“Way to go, Rolak! Atta boy, show them Vertant bitches whose boss!” Aroused by death, the Enforcers kneel to pound the floor and facing outward, form a circle and lean back to repeatedly, rhythmically, touch swollen back humps.
To stop this possible army of rampant destruction, the alerted speakers announce: “Rounds of green on the house!” With a push of a button by the man upstairs, Mr. Colwin, the speakers automatically call for passivity-green. Nip lines drop from the ceiling, and latching begins. “Sit and relax.” The voice chortles calmly. Lights dim. Everyone drinks, calming songs replace the tribal rhythms, collectors connect and as in prayer with Trolious, swaying and a droning hums begin. It lasts for five minutes.
With another signal, the music changes back to the usual drumming, and tweeting howls of the Duba Buta Band. The evening resumes with discussion.
“So, what do you think this’ll cost him, this time?”
“This was just a bit of sport; it’s not considered a punishable kill. Killing a Vertant … isn’t unauthorized.”
“But a LICENSED brothel worker… licensed here—to Jack's … These vertant are not illegals.”
“Rolak’s got no worries. It’s only a fineable offense.”
“Yeah? How much … bet he’ll pay big … it’s his third this month. They let it slide on the first two!”
“Mr. C. decides that.” Heads turn toward the burnt-orange recliner.
Lotik is merely a trophy, and as such, Rolak struts with his fingers inserted in her eye sockets, holding her light frame high, waving it from side to side like a banner. He roars and stomps, justifying his kill. The crowd, calmed with passive-green elixir hardy notices.
Lotik, starved and made to work for food, died well by Vermel standards. If she had obeyed, she could have lived longer – not better, but longer. Vertant workers scurry for cover behind counters and screens, fearing a mass kill when the 'green' wears off.
Rolak climbs the stairs, rationalizing. It’s not my fault; the disobedient must die. It’s my job as Chief Enforcer to catch, punish, and kill the disobedient. Too bad that this one was Trolious’ daughter.
It’s all in a day's work for Mr. C. who waves Rolak, once again, on toward the all too familiar, dented disposal slot. Rolak deposits his kill, pulls out the wall’s flashing green line and squats to guzzle mandatory sedation.
As Lotik’s frail body bounces against the sides of the chute, her disintegration begins. Rolak showers, chooses a black jump-suit from the vending machine, pays Mr. C. a fifty bruick disposal fee and jaunts down the winding exit from Heaven. Meanwhile, dust lands on dust, on dust in the alley. Lotik blows away—Poof!—a small cloud of nothing at all.
Harrumph!” Rolak bullies when he passes Brewik and Banya meshing into one. “Get a fucking chamber!”
The young couple nipple up to euphoric ‘blue’ and, soon, Brewik successfully carries Banya, Gima’s baby vermel sister, up the stairs to ‘Heaven.’ Just down the hall, the new delivery, Gima is being scrubbed and perfumed with mold blossom extract for a special guest summoned by Mr. C.
Mr. Colwin, a fellow with his own agenda, sent news of a new Vertant, a violet one, a captive from Upper Earth to Warik, Jacknel’s competition. Warik waits seated in a secret room beyond the chamber's main corridor, eating pig delicacies—spicy liver and heart with fresh maggot sauce from a low stone table inlayed with ivory vermel symbols. Around him are plush burgundy pillows, wall tapestries and a festoon cornice motif, projecting an air of elegance.
All are a stark contrast to Gima’s bleak appearance when the mirrored wall unit opens revealing her clad in a filmy silver fluttering of practically nothing. Her abundant wavy hair is clipped up by alum circles and her hollow face is ceremoniously painted: one half swirled with yellow and brown, her eye near invisible and the other half-- only the lips are enhanced with red and her eye blinks a sequined blue lash. Gima's a simulation of Vermel beauty.
Warik straightens his brocade vest and confidently approaches, leaning in towards her. Suddenly, Gima takes a broad stance and, snarling, fights back with every skill Asmel and Hunter ever taught her. A fist to Warik’s nose; a kick to his gut. He gasps. A chop to his throat and a twirling back kick, taught to shatter a knee--did many a small tree. But it misses due to his short stature and hits his thigh instead. Taken aback but a fighter himself, Warik staggers forward and grabs Gima's wrists. She growls and struggles wildly, spitting what little’s left in her, not understanding his strange expression.
Warik‘s smile widens beneath the blood from his broken nose; he recognizes something remarkable—talent for the Games. Impressed with Gima’s never seen skills, her unbelievable strength for her size and endurance in an obviously battered condition, he pays Colwin a hundred critons, knowing he'd have gone to five hundred. Warik cloaks Gima under his arm and escapes down the back stairway, as if he’d never been here. Once in his private track-car, they speed by rail to his warrior facilities in Upperton. Gima, as luck would have it, shivers by yet another stranger’s side.
Gima has just avoided Rolak’s ‘attention’ by a matter of minutes. He’d had wind of her delivery and is now sedated; his anger was so great at having missed out on a violet enhanced one that he injured two other Vertant workers before he was subdued by the tazers of Mr. C’s downstairs guards, not part of local Enforcement.
Note to Jacknel from Colwin: Sir, I’m sorry to report but the Vertant female that you sent over with the violet tag is dead. She didn’t last the night. Regards, Colwin.
In the private Chamber, Colwin’s ample belly jiggles as golden critons flow through his fingers to the velvet cloth in his lap—who’s to know ... bodies are incinerated daily. His uncontrollable cackling tickles the tapestry figures who share his secrets in this, his clandestine, room.
Colwin, a supposed puppet of Jacknel, watches himself, a sly, rich man, in the mirror. He props his feet up on a priceless relic, a Grizzley’s head whose pelt lies warm in front of the breathing gas fire. In his embroidered silk caftan he sinks into the deep pillows and pops a bite of festive pig ‘n dip, washing it down with fiztel. His assistant has taken his place, for an hour or so, in the dilapidated orange recliner. Ah, this is the life.
| Author Notes |
Thank you Skyangel02 for the use of your art, 'Starry Night.'
UNDER EARTH SPECIES: Vertant-the off-spring of two Vermel; looks human. Vermel-mutated humans who live in Under Earth; communicate via sign language and various sounds; noted by their single, particulate-collector naris; one eye; dark or red, coarse body hair; flat or twisted feet with three to six long toes; three fingered hands with long curving claw-like nails; pointed teeth in irregular, double rows; intelligent, but with strong base instincts. Particulate collector - a Vermel adaptation to living in a polluted underground; mutation ; porous tubular filaments; can extend from the naris in a searching fashion; they both taste and smell; alert to emotions of other species; Verdants may or may not have remnants, nodes in nasal pharynx tissue(back of throat). dissident-rebel, nonconformist, protester; somebody who publicly disagrees with an established political or religious system or organization. DRINKS & SMOKING Elixirs: Euphoric-Blue - arouses passion without arousing anger or fear Green - calms aggression and base tendencies to mutilate, kill, cannibalize Caramel-clarity(female enhancement) Ruby-rigidity (male enhancement) Violet- given to submissives, primarily Vertants, to change their behavior to aggressive in order to please the Vermel customer at Club ErrOw's Chambers; it runs the adrenals at peak capicity, adrenal depletion is fatal. Fitzel- a carbonated alcoholic beverage; a light intoxication; makes one funny, silly, uninhibited, kind Smoking- usually a mix of madine and sedderthal Hallucinogenic fungi grown in Bellow City Fazil- a smoking or chewing compound that stains the teeth Arnag-a fungus grown as food; a favorite rubber-chew flavor Tartanulum - a tasty smoking compound containing spiders Verbenium - a pill; dissolves under the tongue to speed orgasm; used when time is of the essence. LOCATIONS: Under Earth- a civilization that exists totally under ground; Vermel territory. Bellow City- located in Under Earth. Jacknel's Arena- where Hunter and Trell were trained and exploited as 'Man' and 'Man #2'. Club ErrOw- a dance club downstairs; Chambers for coupling are upstairs. Sadie's Palace - a night spot where Vertant males are displayed for Vermel viewing and pleasure; masterbation columns are very popular in the Mural Room as is the free elixir bar. Alitian - Sir Alitus was the atrium's designer Upperton- A bustling city, located some fifty miles west past the tunnels of Subby Side, Upperton is noted for its many swine product factories from meat packaging and curing hides for upholstery to the cutting and sewing of belts, vests and boots; location of Warik's Warrior Training Facility. CHARACTERS: Gima-a Vertant; rescued and raised by Hunter and Asmel Trell- a Vertant; raised by Vermel, escaped to Upper Earth; has not yet learned to speak but has learned to understand it from Gima, his mate. Blathen- Gima and Trell's Vermel son; single, particulate-collector naris, one eye; on the hierarchy of Vermel his appearance labels him a Prime-One. Zee-Gima's second son who looks human Hunter- Nigel once a business man in the city; was captured and tortured by Ticum to become 'Man' in Jacknel's Arena in Bellow City; 'Papa' to Gima; suffers from PTSD. Asmal- a survivalist; built a cabin in the mountains; rescued Hunter; raised Gima with Hunter; 'Papa-Azzy' to Gima Ticum-Vermel;Jacknel's Circus trainer; beat and tortured Hunter; deceased Trum- Vermel; Ticum's brother; Trell's trainer at Jacknel's Arena Sadie- runs a display and pleasure house featuring male Vertants. Milim - Sadie's assistant a Vermel Picar-Vertant at Sadie's; rebel army leader; captured by Brel to be a warrior Jami-Picar's Vertant lover; Sadie's favorite. Mr. Arnst- Trell's abusive uncle; now a caznu(neutered)and no longer abusive Rom- Arnst's younger companion, lover Disposal Officer- Designated by numbers e.g. DO-45, DO-50; executioners; but they sell their prisoners, usually Vertants, on the black-market to various shady characters like Jacknel and Sadie for use in sport, entertainment, pleasure and artificial insemination collection and sales. Trolious- Head of Ministerial Affairs; Trell and Lotik's father Lida - Trolious' wife Larue- Assistant of Ministerial Affairs; canzu(involuntarilly castrated by Dyrel) Vermel Brackus- Larue's Vertant charge and lover Lem- the youngest Vertant to escape with Larue's help Rolak- Chief Enforcement Officer Pike-the lead bounty hunter; brought Gima to Jacknel; Jacknel's cousin Teleck-Jacknel's office assistant; a voyeur. Beh- a black bear; male; followed Trell home; camp's mascot. Marik- Jacknel's competition; trains his own warriors for the Games; located in Upperton Mr. Corwin- Mr. C. ; Jacknel's manager of Club ErrOw and the Chambers Lotik-vertant sex-worker at Club ErrOw; Trell's litter mate Banya- vermel, small, redhair;Gima's baby sister Brewik- vermel Banya's mate Warik- has a warrior training facility in Upperton; his fighters are matched against Jacknels in Arena competitions. Vermel speech/sounds: twortle-a sound pattern distinctive to the Vermel; a combination of glottal stops, tongue click-clucks and snorts; an assertive pattern. chort- throaty sounds varying in tonal inflection and duration; normal speech; he chorts=he says. toning- saying; using a series of sounds other than speech thrumping songs-songs Trell learned growing up in Bellow City, Under Earth; melodic, throaty, glottal. Vocabulary: particulate collector - a Vermel adaptation, mutation; porous tubular filaments; can extend from the naris in a searching fashion; they both taste and smell; alert to emotions of other species; Vertants may or may not have remnants; nodes in nasal pharynx tissue may be all that remain in Vertant. Arnag-a fungus grown as food; a favorite rubber-chew flavor Caznu-neutered male Vermel; usually gay and neutered by choice for the good of the gene pool by decree of Trolious ; castration is a common punishment regardless of sexual orientation. And-End - Amen Pernard- a Vermel curse Dangle- a Vermel penis; they have two dangles. Mintrinet - minute alum- short for aluminium; usually recycled cans; a valued metal. mold-blossom - a fungi; small, dark brown and caramel colored flowerettes cluster to form a large crysantehmum-type flower; its heavy, sweet decaying scent is used in perfumed oil. gambian-as in gambian rat; a large rat species; pets in Under Earth Events: Warrior Games - Under Earth competitions to the death; all are eligible, male, female, Vertant or Vermel; The odds are stacked in favor of the Vermel. |
By barkingdog
Dear Reader: This is actually Fantasy-Adventure-Horror, but there is no category for it on FanStory. Thank you for reading. Enjoy.:) barking dog
Previously:
Gima, captured by vermel bounty hunters and taken to Bellow City, has been beaten and violated by Jacknel and is now in Warik's Warrior Training facility in Upperton.
Three months have passed since we were in the Valley. We return now after time has passed and all believe Gima is dead. Trell, grief stricken, has not spoken.
CHAPTER 34
Leaves patter on the slanted bark roof of the valley cabin as gusts sweep the oaks across the sunrise. Trell’s silent days have run into silent weeks and months, and Fall's chill touches the Valley. Another day without her. Trell crosses the room, a ghost of what he used to be. He passes Zee, Blathan and Beh who sleep in the corner's shadows curled together like a litter of pups on a pile of various pelts. They've grown ... in size and friendship. Trell's shadow bends and changes on the walls and table unlike his somber disposition.
Asmel and Hunter, settled into a daily routine, enjoy a game of checkers lit by the lantern sputtering overhead. Elbows on the split oak table, they ignore the aging blood stain deep in the wood of the once wolf strewn cabin floor. The once watching amber eyes sleep at Asmel’s feet. Her name is Shalu, a sleek, intelligent cougar. "Your move, my friend." Asmel, hair grown long and tied with deerhide, chuckles, sure of his win.
Blathen wakes, meanders over to the far corner and plops down on a pallet of wolf and rabbit skins to sort his sharpened, polished collection of wolf bones that he'd salvaged during cabin clean-up. Being what he is, inquisitive, he’s tired of Trell’s moping, and out of sheer logic, knowing of bones, the small vermel asks, “Father, dead ones have bones. Am I correct?”
Trell nods.
Hunter leans back to listen. The smell of sweet applewood tobacco puffs from his calabash pipe. Asmel scratches the scar on the back of his head and, stretching his well healed shoulder, reaches to jump several of Hunter's black deer hoof checker pieces with his lighter horn colored ones.
"Gotcha." Asmel, triumphant, listens to Hunter's distraction -- Blathen's question.
“Then, Father …” Blathen pauses for emphasis much like his grandfather, Trolious, might do in order to gain attention or to prove a point. “Father... tell me ... where are Mother’s bones?”
Trell grunts and turns back toward the doorway, persisting in his sullen mood. He leans forward, one hand on each side of its frame as if trapped by some unseen force controlling him from within.
“Where are Mother’s bones, Father?” Vermel temper rising, Blathen stands and bangs two wolf bones together with a resounding clack, clack. “Bones.”
“He’s right,” Asmel says under his breath, leaning across the narrow table toward Hunter.
Determined to have an answer, here and now, Blathen stomps over to Trell who has stepped outside into the chill of morning. Aggravated, he tromps around to stand in front of his father. At only one third Trell’s height, he cranes his neck to look up, crosses his arms over his barrel chest and demands, "Where are they?" His uncontrollable, angry collector whips against Trell’s arm leaving a snaking red welt.
Trell jolts.
Blathen immediately realizes the disrespect that he’s shown and bows in apology. “Forgive me, Father.” Yet, he still persists, “Where are they, damn it?” just as Asmel might retort. Blathen's certainly heard Asmel’s profanity often enough to repeat it with perfect inflection. Asmel can’t help but smile. He kicks Hunter’s foot under the table and motions his head side-ways toward Blathen's pressing interrogation.
Trell straightens his shoulders, stands tall and takes a deep breath. Blathen steps away. For the first time since finding Gima’s torn clothing and returning to Apple Valley, Trell is faced with another possibility. There were no bones, only tattered leather and her unlaced boots. No bones, no body, no death. Half smiling, half crying – looking more insane than sane, Trell bends down, snatches Blathen by his leather strapped leggings and throws him high in the air. Blathen squeals, waiting to be caught but falls, instead, into a pile of damp, red and gold maple leaves.
Hunter jumps to his feet. His chair clatters to the floor as he rushes outside to rescue Blathen, positive that Trell’s finally gone mad after months of silence. He positions himself between Trell and Blathen who’s struggling to sit his roly-poly self up, waving his arms and legs in the air like a topsy-turvy turtle.
“Telly. Stop." Hunter shoves Trell who's inches taller and pounds more muscular , hoping to move him toward the cabin door away from Blathen. "Asmel, help,” the normally quiet man yells inside to his friend while gripping Trell’s arm. Unsuccessful in his efforts—he may as well try to move an ancient oak—Hunter resorts to reason. “ Listen now, Telly, Blathen just misses his mother.”
Blathen is up, brushing off leaves, and heads toward the cabin door, miffed that Trell didn't catch him. He throws a handful of leaves at Trell in minor retaliation.
“No bones. No bones. No bones,” Trell laughs hysterically, “no bones … not dead … if no bones.” He moves Hunter aside with a touch of his finger and grabs Blathen to swing him around. “Gima lives.” Trell's smile gleams at Hunter and Asmel while he holds curious logic, kicking in mid-air. Sunrise lights the sky behind the small one's head. “Blathen’s question is the answer. I knew not what to do. My son … my son.” Trell spins, holding Blathen close for the first time in months.
“You okay, man?” Azzy shouts.
“Gima’s out there … somewhere.” A new color of hope replaces the paleness of grief in Trell’s face.
"Oh my god, the little fella’s right.” Hunter throws his arms around them both. “Azzy, Gima’s alive.”
“No bones.” In the midst of the hugging, Blathen affirms the truth with a very serious expression.
Asmel lands a hearty slap on Trell’s deerskin clad back as he joins the celebration.
Blathen wiggles, coughing and clearing his throat. Human sweat. I’ll never get used to it. Trell puts him down with a fatherly pat to his round yet immature hump.
Blathen toddles inside to disassociate himself from all of this emotion and regain composure. He sits on his pile of wolf skins, picks up two femur bones and starts beating an innate Vermel rhythm on several wolf-skull drums. He weaves from side to side formulating a complex rhythm on the snarling skulls. He's in a world of his own.
“Are you alright?” Asmel repeats Hunter’s question to Trell.
As drum beats echo from the log house walls, Trell rushes about gathering and stuffing long forgotten gear into his worn leather pack. His pace is frantic, thinking of the time that he’s let pass with self-indulgent pity.
“What are you doing?” Asmel follows Trell who packs deer jerky, knives, dried fruit, nuts, and herbs as well as jack-in-the-pulpit, daffodil bulbs, foxglove pollen and belladonna berries— poisons, quiet weapons.
“I go to find Gima.” Trell opens the door.
Beh wakes with the gust of cool, early autum air. His fat ripples when he shakes, and drool-strings fly, sticking to the wall. He roars readiness, standing beside Trell.
Blathen pulls a wolf pelt over his head; its tail trails behind him. He peers out of an eye hole in the hood and waddles his well-rounded torso on its wide, flat feet over to the door to join them. The sharpened bones that hang in slits on a wolf-skin belt around his waist rattle with every step. “Ready.”
“What the hell.” Asmel looks at Hunter then over at the deserted game of checkers and, without hesitation, reaches toward the equipment wall. “We can finish that game later.”
Hunter smiles at Asmel who’s already grabbed his new bow and full quiver of arrows. “Aye my friend, we have a better one to play.” Hunter straps on his scabbard and reaches for his quiver of cattail torches.
Shalu stretches, trots outside and jumps on the oak branch felled by lightning and, purring, sharpens her claws. Her eyes bright in the reflecting sunrise, she feels the excitement.
Trell leads the unlikely band of steadfast cohorts. Blathen, red and fearless, wears the wolf cloak; Asmel, dark and powerful, the bear skin. Hunter, cautious and brave, belts a rabbit parka while Trell, masterful and cunning, ties his deerskin. They march out of the warm cabin into the chill of a red and gold fall morning. Shalu lopes along with Zee and his infant gear in saddlebags across her back. Beh brings up the rear–his large black rump swaying rhythmically from side to side as Trell leads them across the stream westward toward the far mountains.
Hunter begins to whistle then sings a marching song and then another and another. Asmel adds his baritone to Hunter's tenor as they tromp along, frightening rabbit, squirrel and bird from den and tree with their human caterwaulering. Finally, after miles of this, Blathen covers his ears. “I think we hit an off note there, Azzy.” Hunter laughs and punches his friend's shoulder. Blathen attempts a polite smile but is secretly relieved to have a reprieve from the incessant human noise. He takes this venture very seriously.
After half a day’s steady march, they reach the pile of Gima’s torn clothing, memorialized by Trell months ago. It remains undisturbed. Leaves have gathered for cover and protection, but it seems that even in Upper Earth, the Under Earth’s sacred symbols are respected by animals. Trell breaks the circle with an incantation, thus allowing Beh and Shalu freedom to nose about. As luck would have it—Gima’s scent remains snug inside her boots. The cougar remembers following that very scent in the footprints, long ago, as a cub with its mother. This is Shalu's range. She knows where the scent originated. She roars to Beh. Beh growls to Trell. Trell motions and clicks, “Follow Shalu.”
Hunter and Asmel are speechless and fall in line, now, with Shalu in the lead. She gallops ahead. The line quickens through the stand of birch, past bayberry and under the towering shade of ash.
Blathen coughs and complains,”Hey guys, I can't keep up. Slow down.” Beh mumbles a few low tones and Blathen pulls himself onto Beh’s back where he's seated like a king. Beh trots forward. It’s quite a sight: A wolf pelted vermel, riding a bear, brings up the rear of a small army that follows a cougar carrying a human child seated in a deerskin saddle bag. They couldn’t be happier, each one having their purpose, their individuality being part of a whole.
At the site of the oak rising above the paw-paw patch, Beh climbs to the high fork and yowls that Gima had been there. He’s congratulated with much hard patting. Encouraged, Beh continues to search. His mouth opens to take in any scent that may be on low rocks. His keen nearsighted vision picks up Gima’s trail where she staggered blindly against a thorn bush and fell, leaving her flesh and hair on its brambles.
At Mallard Lake, its shoreline scattered with Fall's brown and gold disintegration, Beh finds one of Gima's torn fingernails among the red ferns at the base of a russet ash, the clawed witness to Ruel’s assault. They find several other strange articles: Blathen finds a leather pouch with Jacknel’s arena insignia branded into it and a dark metal knife inscribed with ‘Ruel‘ in vermel symbols. Shalu uncovers several pointed, greenish-brown teeth.
Trell, Hunter and Asmel exchange glances and simply agree in unison. “Vermel.”
Blathen holds the dark knife in one hand and the Arena pouch in the other and asks, “What is ‘vermel?' ” They ignore his question. Asmel and Trell throw the teeth far into the lake where fish flee the sharp, arrow-like edges.
The troop stays on the deer path with Trell in the lead. Certainly, it’s the most logical choice for strangers to Upper Earth to follow a ready made path rather than to cut through brush. And no brush had been trampled or cleared, according to Asmel who scouts ahead.
Finally, they come to the cave and stand gaping at Ruel, its gruesome greeter, his eye picked out by crows. His body hangs, now, only dried sinew and bone with his green, sharp double-rows grinning broader than ever, and his clawed hand pointing its welcome toward the mountain's tunnel entrance of pitch darkness. Trell's stomach churns to meet the posted challenge.
Beh hurries forward to enter the cave as do Shalu, Trell and Blathen. “Whoa, doggies,” shouts Hunter. “We need light.”
The humans need light. Blathen sighs and waits, tapping his foot, while Hunter hands Asmel a cattail torch, finds his flint and lights it. Why can I see in the dark, and the Papa’s cannot? He continues to wonder.. Why am I the only one with a nose tube and a hump, the only one who can spew, the one with three fingers to their five, one eye to their two ... ?
“Let’s go, son.” Trell motions to Blathen.
Blathen’s train of thought is interrupted. But, out of the corner of his eye as they pass Ruel’s skeleton, he sees the three fingered hand with claws identical to his own and double rows that he has felt in his own mouth, and a single hole for only one eye. He knows in a flash that what they are hunting … is what he is. I’m a Vermel.
He puffs up, angry that no one’s told him and wonders why, but then thinks back. No one’s told Beh that he’s a bear. I still don’t know what Shalu is. Father is Father, but what IS he; and Mother— what IS she? The humans … I know are human because Father's always saying ‘the human this and the human that’ …
"Come on squirt, let’s go," Hunter touches Blathen’s fuzzy red hair, “time to find your Mama.”
| Author Notes |
Thank you Sandra for your lovely pastel art, 'autum somewhere in the woods.'
calabash- a gourd cattail torch- cattails soaked in animal fat and dried can last up to six hours depending on their size. gambian-as in gambian rat; a large rat species; pets in Under Earth UNDER EARTH SPECIES: Vertant-the off-spring of two Vermel; looks human. Vermel-mutated humans who live in Under Earth; communicate via sign language and various sounds; noted by their single, particulate-collector naris; one eye; dark or red, coarse body hair; flat or twisted feet with three to six long toes; three fingered hands with long curving claw-like nails; pointed teeth in irregular, double rows; intelligent, but with strong base instincts. Particulate collector - a Vermel adaptation to living in a polluted underground; mutation ; porous tubular filaments; can extend from the naris in a searching fashion; they both taste and smell; alert to emotions of other species; Verdants may or may not have remnants, nodes in nasal pharynx tissue(back of throat). dissident-rebel, nonconformist, protester; somebody who publicly disagrees with an established political or religious system or organization. DRINKS & SMOKING Elixirs: Euphoric-Blue - arouses passion without arousing anger or fear Green - calms aggression and base tendencies to mutilate, kill, cannibalize Caramel-clarity(female enhancement) Ruby-rigidity (male enhancement) Violet- given to submissives, primarily Vertants, to change their behavior to aggressive in order to please the Vermel customer at Club ErrOw's Chambers. Fitzel- a carbonated alcoholic beverage; a light intoxication; makes one funny, silly, uninhibited, kind Smoking- usually a mix of madine and sedderthal Hallucinogenic fungi grown in Bellow City Fazil- a smoking or chewing compound that stains the teeth Arnag-a fungus grown as food; a favorite rubber-chew flavor Tartanulum - a tasty smoking compound containing spiders Verbenium - a pill; dissolves under the tongue to speed orgasm; used when time is of the essence. LOCATIONS: Under Earth- a civilization that exists totally under ground; Vermel territory. Bellow City- located in Under Earth. Jacknel's Arena- where Hunter and Trell were trained and exploited as 'Man' and 'Man #2'. Club ErrOw- a dance club downstairs; Chambers for coupling are upstairs. Sadie's Palace - a night spot where Vertant males are displayed for Vermel viewing and pleasure; masterbation columns are very popular in the Mural Room as is the free elixir bar. Alitian - Sir Alitus was the atrium's designer CHARACTERS: Gima-a Vertant; rescued and raised by Hunter and Asmel Trell- a Vertant; raised by Vermel, escaped to Upper Earth; has not yet learned to speak but has learned to understand it from Gima, his mate. Blathen- Gima and Trell's Vermel son; single, particulate-collector naris, one eye; on the hierarchy of Vermel his appearance labels him a Prime-One. Zee-Gima's second son who looks human Hunter- Nigel once a business man in the city; was captured and tortured by Ticum to become 'Man' in Jacknel's Arena in Bellow City; 'Papa' to Gima; suffers from PTSD. Asmal- a survivalist; built a cabin in the mountains; rescued Hunter; raised Gima with Hunter; 'Papa-Azzy' to Gima Ticum-Vermel;Jacknel's Circus trainer; beat and tortured Hunter; deceased Trum- Vermel; Ticum's brother; Trell's trainer at Jacknel's Arena Sadie- runs a display and pleasure house featuring male Vertants. Milim - Sadie's assistant a Vermel Picar-Vertant at Sadie's Jami-Picar's Vertant lover; Sadie's favorite. Mr. Arnst- Trell's abusive uncle; now a caznu(neutered)and no longer abusive Rom- Arnst's younger companion, lover Disposal Officer- Designated by numbers e.g. DO-45, DO-50; executioners; but they sell their prisoners, usually Vertants, on the black-market to various shady characters like Jacknel and Sadie for use in sport, entertainment, pleasure and artificial insemination collection and sales. Trolious- Head of Ministerial Affairs Lida - Trolious' wife Larue- Assistant of Ministerial Affairs; canzu(involuntarilly castrated by Dyrel) Vermel Brackus- Larue's Vertant charge and lover Lem- the youngest Vertant to escape with Larue's help Rolak- Chief Enforcement Officer Pike-the lead bounty hunter; brought Gima to Jacknel; Jacknel's cousin Ruel- a member of Pike's bounty hunting party; attacked Gima at Mallard Lake, Pike killed him and hung him at the tunnel entrance, pointing the way to Under Earth. Teleck-Jacknel's office assistant; a voyeur. Beh- a black bear; male; followed Trell home; camp's mascot. Shalu- a young female cougar Warik- Jacknel's competition; his Warrior Training facilities are in Upperton Vermel speech/sounds: twortle-a sound pattern distinctive to the Vermel; a combination of glottal stops, tongue click-clucks and snorts; an assertive pattern. chort- throaty sounds varying in tonal inflection and duration; normal speech; he chorts=he says. toning- saying; using a series of sounds other than speech thrumping songs-songs Trell learned growing up in Bellow City, Under Earth; melodic, throaty, glottal. Vocabulary: particulate collector - a Vermel adaptation, mutation; porous tubular filaments; can extend from the naris in a searching fashion; they both taste and smell; alert to emotions of other species; Vertants may or may not have remnants; nodes in nasal pharynx tissue may be all that remain in Vertant. Arnag-a fungus grown as food; a favorite rubber-chew flavor Caznu-neutered male Vermel; usually gay and neutered by choice for the good of the gene pool by decree of Trolious ; castration is a common punishment regardless of sexual orientation. And-End - Amen Pernard- a Vermel curse Dangle- a Vermel penis; they have two dangles. Mintrinet - minute alum- short for aluminium; usually recycled cans; a valued metal. mold-blossom - a fungi; small, dark brown and caramel colored flowerettes cluster to form a large crysantehmum-type flower; its heavy, sweet decaying scent is used in perfumed oil. Events: Warrior Games - Under Earth competitions to the death; all are eligible, male, female, Vertant or Vermel; The odds are stacked in favor of the Vermel. |
By barkingdog
Dear Reader: This is actually Fantasy-Adventure-Horror, but there is no category for it on FanStory. Thank you for reading. Enjoy.:) barking dog
Previously:
Gima has been captured and taken to Upperton. The Four -- Trell, Asmel, Hunter and Blathen -- go to rescue her.
End of Chapter 34
Blathen’s logic is interrupted. But, out of the corner of his eye as they pass Ruel’s skeleton, he sees the three fingered hand with claws identical
to his own and double rows that he has felt in his mouth, and a single hole for only one eye. He knows in a flash that what they are hunting … is what he is. I’m a Vermel.
Blathen holds his breath, puffing his cheeks, angry that no one’s told him and wonders why, but then thinks back: No one’s told Beh that he’s a bear. I still don’t know what Shalu is. Father is Father, but what IS he; and Mother— what IS she? The humans … I know are human because Father said ‘the human this and the human that’ …
“Come on, squirt. Let’s go,” Hunter touches Blathen’s fuzzy red hair, “time to find your Mama.”
CHAPTER 35
I guess, it doesn’t matter what I am. Blathen stands up, happy to rush ahead. Shalu and Trell take the lead into the darkness with Beh and Blathen. Hunter and Asmel trudge along behind, lighting the rear with a torch.
“Looks like an old coal mine.” Asmel recalls the ones he's explored and pilfered for tools, lanterns and such, east of the Whitetail River. “It’ll weave its way deeper and deeper.”
Beh confirms with a roar that Gima’s scent lingers on the damp coal-veined walls.
Blathen picks up another, musky putrid smell. One he’d have if he never bathed. He reports. “Vermel.” And sniffs the air.
Trell turns with a start to tone, “What?”
“Those like me have passed through here. You call them Vermel. So, I report Vermel.”
“Those are NOT like you.” Hunter rushes forward.
“They are monsters,” Asmel says without thinking.
"What is ‘monster’?" Blathen chorts and coughs.
“Something you are not.” Hunter saves the moment with tact.
“Good, son,” Trell proudly signs, “very good.” Blathen walks forward to stand beside his father as they, the tall and the short of them, march down into the darkness.
Shalu’s exploratory growls and Beh’s testimonial roars disappear into the miles of intertwining tunnels. Folded above, meditative, penitent witnesses startle, and swoop, adding their screeches to the travelers' trailing echoes.
“Down.” Asmel pushes Hunter to the tunnel floor.
Hundreds of furry brown creatures with large round-ears and foot-wide wing spans maneuver past the torch light, screaming toward the exit in panic. The two men lie prone tight against damp coal and cracked vermin bones while the oily stink of beating wings fans past them.
“Man, what I’d do for a game of checkers, right now.” Hunter, purposefully, steps on a small skull. Then, picking up his lucky hat, dusts it off on his thigh with a swift swat.
Soon, the squish of guano fills the otherwise deafening quiet of the tunnel. Hunter and Asmel, eager to catch up, take long, slippery strides, steadying themselves with each other.
Blathen’s unmistakable silhouette stands, hand on hips, just ahead.
“Humans, we’re waiting.” Blathen scowls, tsk-tsks with a pointed finger and trudges forward into the darkness.
“Looks like we pissed him off … again.” Asmel mumbles.
“Yeah, he’s hard to please, these days.”
“I’m frickin’ tired of being treated like a ‘puny human.’”
“Ummm, but we ARE Gima’s puny humans.” Hunter laughs.
“If we weren’t, they’d have eaten us by now.” Asmel holds back a grin.
“I doubt that they’d eat you.”
“And why not?”
“Too tough and full of it.” Laughter bounces from the slick jagged walls.
The flicker of Hunter's cattail disturbs a family of beady red-eyes that scurries to the left when the tunnel forks.
“Follow the rats.” Trell motions the group forward.
Miles of tunnels later, Trell, Hunter and Asmel recognize the work of the Vermel. “We’re near,” announces Trell.
“Watch for fall traps,” Hunter warns. A shiver runs through him, remembering his own capture. He and Asmel take the lead, setting off traps with firm plunges of discarded metal poles left by the vermel during construction of the traps.
Shalu and Beh jump easily over a dropped door's plunging darkness and pace on the other side, waiting, anxious to continue.
“Up, Up.” Blathen calls to be carried. He stares into the endless hole at the curving metal slide to captivity. “Where does that go?” He motions round and round with his clawed finger.
So, they tell him. For miles and miles they answer his questions. Eager to learn, Blathen absorbs epic tales of the Arena, its torture, and the century’s old vermel vs. human conflict and the Vertant mutation—a new species, below and the survival of man, above. He listens with rapt attention and, by the end, understands much more, especially, about humans—Asmel and Hunter. I walk with the last of their kind. Brave men … these humans. My family.
They come to another trap and Blathen chorts, “Up … up.” Trell reaches to lift him. Blathen backs away. “I want Azzy to carry me this time.” Trell cocks his head to the side. “Please, Father.” Trell grunts, nods, and before Asmel knows what’s what, Trell has taken the human's gear, and Blathen jumps up to piggy-back ride. Smiling from ear to lopsided ear, Blathen grabs hold of Asmel's pony-tail.
“Ready? Set?”
“Jump,” Blathen and Asmel chort in unison. In a graceful leap to rival any buck in the valley, Asmel clears the trap.
Blathen slides off, bows a thank you and skips forward to Trell.
“Now, that was just frickin’ strange. What just happened?” Asmel picks up his gear.
“I think your puniness has been dissolved by the ‘king’ himself.” Hunter slaps Asmel on the back. “Way to go.”
Trell notices Blathen stumbling and walking slowly but holds in his deep concern. Happy after the last trap-jump with Asmel, Blathen sings a song that Papa Hunter'd taught him. “If you’re happy and you know it, clap your hands.” Clap. Clap. Trell contemplates. He’s getting weaker. The journey depletes what little reserves he has left. … and you really wanna show it …His breathing’s labored. Upper Earth’s illness attacks him … “clap your hands.” Trell’s eyes glaze with tears. Gods of my fathers, fathers let his last moments be brave.
Long before the others, Trell hears the motors of a pumping station. He looks at Blathen and another probability dawns. Might my son's lungs recover when the Under Earth’s stench fills them? Blathen continues cheerfully unaware of his near mortal condition. “If you’re happy and you know it …” Trell smiles. Its mold may heal what Upper Earth’s sunlight has destroyed. Trell with renewed optimism tones along with Blathen. “... and you really wanna show it. If you’re happy and you know it. Clap your hands.” Clap. Clap.
Always scouting forward, Asmel rushes back from the exit. “Shhhh, you two. We’re there.”
Trell wipes an optimistic tear and turns to face Asmel. “Right, then ... let’s go.”
They exit the mine into the dim gas light of the forbidden tunnel zone just outside Upperton. Sounds of Under Earth’s ventilation system, churning out years of recycled air, and the scurrying squeaks of their little red-eyed travel companions, begging for food, greet them to Under Earth.
Trell had forgotten the vile reek of where he was born. It carries memories of his youth with Picar, his many cousins and Aunt Betta. Then with a whiff of madine and sedderthal lifting from the vent, he pictures the back of his mother, walking away. His body tenses and the reason for his taking this phenomenal risk returns. Gima is alive ... captured. Rage pushes every hair shaft on end.
Disconnected yet momentarily focused, he abruptly places Blathen in the center of the large ventilation grid. “Stay here, DO NOT follow me. Understood?”
Blathen feels light headed as Under Earth’s mold spore stew, the stuff the vermel call air, enters his lungs. He breathes deep and drifts with the thick comfort of the vermel-enticing stench. He breathes, heaving in great breaths, addictively feeding his hungry lungs. He exhales. Useless, dead cells are carried out with the stew's moisture. Color begins to replace the underlying pallor in his red skin, and his tongue returns from pale gray to bright pinkish-red.
Just inside the tunnel the others confer with little resolution.
“We’re here without a plan, and we are few.” Asmel looks to Hunter and Trell with obvious questions.
“The Resistance Camp's near. Wait …” Trell runs into the dank grayness.
“Whoa, that was fast. Where’d he go? What Resistance Camp?”
“I guess it’s his to know, and we’ll soon find out.” Hunter supposes. He pulls out some jerky. "Here," handing Asmel a piece, "so far ... so good. Relax."
They eat, feed Zee and wait. Beh and Shalu snore with Blathen at the entrance.
Trell returns with Jamie who carries several magnificent swords with stunning polished silver handles and sleek black blades. "These are of the best steel ...," Jamie hands one to Asmel, "forged as none other ..." with a splendid air-cutting swish, Jamie demonstrates his skill and the sword's perfect balance before handing the second beauty to Hunter, " for you with my compliments from the master metal works in Cinder City."
“Jamie can lead us to Warik’s compound. Picar’s there with others of our army, captured by Warik's bounty-hunter guards to fight in the Arena.” Trell turns to fence with his shadow on the flickering wall.
“These others … Vertant?” Hunter asks.
“And vermel who sympathize with our cause,” Jamie adds.
“How will we know the difference? Shit, how do I say this? Your sympathizers … damn it … all vermel look the same to us …” he pats his own chest and Hunter’s back. “… to us— humans.”
“Warik’s brand is on their right cheeks.” Jamie stoops to trace two parallel horizontal waves in the dust. “Those with this are friends.”
Armed with Trell’s poisons and Jamie’s cache of incomparable swords, they leave Shalu to guard the young. She curves around the two who appear to sleep. She dreams: Butterflies lift from periwinkle as she bounds through Apple Valley chasing rabbits. She laps deer milk and lazes in the shade. Rolling over on her back, a hand touches her chest. Zee, thumb in his mouth, shifts position.
"We’re almost there," Jamie motions to hunker down and be quiet.
"Cough. Cough."
” Shhh.”
The cough repeats.
“Blathen?” Trell is furious. “Blathen, son of Trell, grandson of Trolious, come here.”
Blathen urges Beh forward. “I am a warrior, not a baby like Zee.” Blathen slides down from Beh and touches his belt of razor-sharp bones.
“You disobeyed me.” Trell signs, silently.
“No, Father. I merely made no reply to your request that I stay. I did not agree. I remained silent because you are sometimes wrong.” And affirmatively stupid. “What is your plan? Three of you who look as you do, plan to walk right in? Me who looks like them, you leave behind? Explain such a plan.” He stands tapping his foot.
Trell and the others are silent and have gone pale.
“Not the correct choice, Father.”
“He’s right, Trell, how are we supposed to sneak around like this?” Hunter wiggles his fingers and blinks his eyes. “Can’t hide what we are.”
Trell defers to the Prime One's instinct and steps back with respect.
Blathen grabs the bag of poisons. “I have a delivery to make. Have I not?” He smirks so cleverly that Asmel and Hunter have to stifle their laugher. “Jamie, if you’d be so kind … exchange your clothes with mine and point the way.”
Transformation complete, Blathen walks to Warik’s front gate and pulls the bell cord. An eye peers out, followed by a rotund form.
“Delivery from Ophram’s Delight. ‘A treat to die for.’” Jamie had suggested using the name of the best carryout food service in Upperton with a catchy slogan.
“You’re not on my list. Go away,” the front guard snaps.
“Oh but sir, this is a one-of-a-kind offer for the discerning palate. I’m ordered to offer it only to highly-regarded, rich and successful, previous clientele.” Blathen opens his satchel. The tempting aroma of berries and roots weave through the gate’s bars.
“So,” the guard wipes drool from his receding chin, “Mr. Warik isn’t expecting this?”
“No, Ophram sends it with his compliments. It’s free … a special surprise for his best customer.”
“Give it to me, I’ll take it to him.” A second guard’s greedy hand grabs the satchel and slams the gate.
“Thank you. Be sure Mr. Warik gets it, or I’ll be in big trouble,” Blathen, the prevaricator, saunters away. Not running until far out of sight, he eventually skips and picks up speed, puffing the last fifty yards. He returns guffawing and rolls on the ground unable to speak, gasping and grabbing his stomach.
“What happened?” Hunter tugs on Blathen’s foot. Jamie, caught up in Blathen’s glee, jumps around clapping his hands above his head.
“He bloody well did it. That’s all. He bloody well did it.” Asmel pats Blathen so hard that he knocks him over onto his round bottom.
“I bloody well did it." Blathen sits. His round belly and hump jiggle at the joke he’s played.
Trell stands sword in hand, his back leaning against the entrance, or exit as the case may be. Filled with pride, he watches Blathen's first moment of glory. A memory to store away forever with Blathen's awakening and the killing of wolves.
Blathen looks at his tall Vertant father and knows or feels, if that's possible, a need for what he tasted in that tear long ago, but being a vermel, he pushes it away and grabs an apple. His appetite has improved with the success of his first venture. Successful deception ... delicious. He throws the apple, one bite taken, to Beh and reaches for another to enjoy, legs crossed, seated on the ventilator.
| Author Notes |
Emmex had a question about 'cough,' so I Googled and found that 'cough' is considers onomatopoeia. Quotes are correct. "Cough. Cough." She asked that I let everyone know. So, now we all know how to cough. "Cough." LOL
calabash- a gourd cattail torch- cattails soaked in animal fat and dried can last up to six hours depending on their size. gambian-as in gambian rat; a large rat species; pets in Under Earth UNDER EARTH SPECIES: Vertant-the off-spring of two Vermel; looks human. Vermel-mutated humans who live in Under Earth; communicate via sign language and various sounds; noted by their single, particulate-collector naris; one eye; dark or red, coarse body hair; flat or twisted feet with three to six long toes; three fingered hands with long curving claw-like nails; pointed teeth in irregular, double rows; intelligent, but with strong base instincts. Particulate collector - a Vermel adaptation to living in a polluted underground; mutation ; porous tubular filaments; can extend from the naris in a searching fashion; they both taste and smell; alert to emotions of other species; Verdants may or may not have remnants, nodes in nasal pharynx tissue(back of throat). dissident-rebel, nonconformist, protester; somebody who publicly disagrees with an established political or religious system or organization. DRINKS & SMOKING Elixirs: Euphoric-Blue - arouses passion without arousing anger or fear Green - calms aggression and base tendencies to mutilate, kill, cannibalize Caramel-clarity(female enhancement) Ruby-rigidity (male enhancement) Violet- given to submissives, primarily Vertants, to change their behavior to aggressive in order to please the Vermel customer at Club ErrOw's Chambers. Fitzel- a carbonated alcoholic beverage; a light intoxication; makes one funny, silly, uninhibited, kind Smoking- usually a mix of madine and sedderthal Hallucinogenic fungi grown in Bellow City Fazil- a smoking or chewing compound that stains the teeth Arnag-a fungus grown as food; a favorite rubber-chew flavor Tartanulum - a tasty smoking compound containing spiders Madine and sedderthal- a narcotic laced smoke; one drifts into mindlessness for a time; no thought, no worries. Verbenium - a pill; dissolves under the tongue to speed orgasm; used when time is of the essence. LOCATIONS: Under Earth- a civilization that exists totally under ground; Vermel territory. Bellow City- located in Under Earth. Jacknel's Arena- where Hunter and Trell were trained and exploited as 'Man' and 'Man #2'. Club ErrOw- a dance club downstairs; Chambers for coupling are upstairs. Sadie's Palace - a night spot where Vertant males are displayed for Vermel viewing and pleasure; masterbation columns are very popular in the Mural Room as is the free elixir bar. Alitian - Sir Alitus was the atrium's designer CHARACTERS: Gima-a Vertant; rescued and raised by Hunter and Asmel Trell- a Vertant; raised by Vermel, escaped to Upper Earth; has not yet learned to speak but has learned to understand it from Gima, his mate. Blathen- Gima and Trell's Vermel son; single, particulate-collector naris, one eye; on the hierarchy of Vermel his appearance labels him a Prime-One. Zee-Gima's second son who looks human Hunter- Nigel once a business man in the city; was captured and tortured by Ticum to become 'Man' in Jacknel's Arena in Bellow City; 'Papa' to Gima; suffers from PTSD. Asmal- a survivalist; built a cabin in the mountains; rescued Hunter; raised Gima with Hunter; 'Papa-Azzy' to Gima Ticum-Vermel;Jacknel's Circus trainer; beat and tortured Hunter; deceased Trum- Vermel; Ticum's brother; Trell's trainer at Jacknel's Arena Sadie- runs a display and pleasure house featuring male Vertants. Milim - Sadie's assistant a Vermel Picar-Vertant at Sadie's Jami-Picar's Vertant lover; Sadie's favorite. Mr. Arnst- Trell's abusive uncle; now a caznu(neutered)and no longer abusive Rom- Arnst's younger companion, lover Disposal Officer- Designated by numbers e.g. DO-45, DO-50; executioners; but they sell their prisoners, usually Vertants, on the black-market to various shady characters like Jacknel and Sadie for use in sport, entertainment, pleasure and artificial insemination collection and sales. Trolious- Head of Ministerial Affairs Lida - Trolious' wife Larue- Assistant of Ministerial Affairs; canzu(involuntarilly castrated by Dyrel) Vermel Brackus- Larue's Vertant charge and lover Lem- the youngest Vertant to escape with Larue's help Rolak- Chief Enforcement Officer Pike-the lead bounty hunter; brought Gima to Jacknel; Jacknel's cousin Ruel- a member of Pike's bounty hunting party; attacked Gima at Mallard Lake, Pike killed him and hung him at the tunnel entrance, pointing the way to Under Earth. Teleck-Jacknel's office assistant; a voyeur. Mr. Colwin- Mr. C; manager at Club ErrOw Beh- a black bear; male; followed Trell home; camp's mascot. Shalu- a young female cougar Warik- Jacknel's competition; his Warrior Training facilities are in Upperton Vermel speech/sounds: twortle-a sound pattern distinctive to the Vermel; a combination of glottal stops, tongue click-clucks and snorts; an assertive pattern. chort- throaty sounds varying in tonal inflection and duration; normal speech; he chorts=he says. toning- saying; using a series of sounds other than speech thrumping songs-songs Trell learned growing up in Bellow City, Under Earth; melodic, throaty, glottal. thrump-a of singing pattern from the throat; Vertant and Vermel variation of humming. Vocabulary: particulate collector - a Vermel adaptation, mutation; porous tubular filaments; can extend from the naris in a searching fashion; they both taste and smell; alert to emotions of other species; Vertants may or may not have remnants; nodes in nasal pharynx tissue may be all that remain in Vertant. Arnag-a fungus grown as food; a favorite rubber-chew flavor Caznu-neutered male Vermel; usually gay and neutered by choice for the good of the gene pool by decree of Trolious ; castration is a common punishment regardless of sexual orientation. And-End - Amen Pernard- a Vermel curse Dangle- a Vermel penis; they have two dangles. Mintrinet - minute alum- short for aluminium; usually recycled cans; a valued metal. mold-blossom - a fungi; small, dark brown and caramel colored flowerettes cluster to form a large crysantehmum-type flower; its heavy, sweet decaying scent is used in perfumed oil. Events: Warrior Games - Under Earth competitions to the death; all are eligible, male, female, Vertant or Vermel; The odds are stacked in favor of the Vermel. |
By barkingdog
Dear Reader: This is actually Fantasy-Adventure-Horror, but there is no category for it on FanStory. If you do not like this genre, please do not continue reading. I do not intend to offend anyone, but language and behaviors used are essential to the characters and storyline contrasts. Scenes are meant to arouse a range of emotions. I hope that they do. Thank you for reading. Enjoy.:) barking dog
Previously:
Blathen delivered poisonous flowers, roots, berries, etc. to Warik's Warrior Training Compound, Upperton, Under Earth. Trell, Hunter, and Asmel with the help of a dissident army member, Jamie, wait for the poisons to take effect.
Chapter 35
“What happened?” Hunter tugs on Blathen’s foot. Jamie, caught up in Blathen’s glee, jumps around clapping his hands above his head.
“He bloody well did it. That’s all. He bloody well did it.” Asmel pats Blathen so hard that he knocks him over on his bottom.
“I bloody well did it." Blathen sits. His round belly and hump jiggle as he laughs at the clever deception.
Chapter 36
Back in Warik’s compound, the guards enjoy the joke that they think they’ve played on Blathen. “That stupid, delivery twerp’s afraid we’ll get him in trouble,” snortles Grot who sports a red three-clawed tattoo on his left cheek’s bulging tumor. He greedily stuffs poisonous rhubarb leaves and tansy buttons in his drooping mouth.
One whiff of the golden-yellow tansy flower’s sweet mint and thousands of fleas, the smartest of the lot in the compound, form a jumping black puddle and exit the front gate with hats, coats and baggage, if anyone’s of a mind to look closely.
Outer perimeter guards, hired for their keen sense of smell, sniff their way inside. They dig armpits and crotches, heads and chests as their fleas, wanting to live, scurry to join the exodus.
“We gonna take this stuff to Warik?” An outer guard wonders.
“Nah.” Skeet chews. Green juice from asparagus berries runs down his chin. “He doesn't need to know." Skeet scans the others’ faces and shakes his fists, offering columbine roots and oleander.
“Right?” Grot glares a threat to any dissenter and crunches a daffodil bulb. His eye rolls back in ecstasy when its dense, earthy flavor bursts. He tosses another up in the air, and with his head back and mouth open, it falls in. He snaps it .
“Dig in.” Leel, a front guard, welcomes five more rear-gate defenders. He laughs and pours crude-metal beakers to overflowing with an unknown concoction from an unusual container.
Bellied-up around the large marble table which stands like a headless dragon on paws of stone, the vermel squabble over sweet belladonna berries, their claws scraping as they grab to gather and down them by the handfuls.
The merry entourage gorges on daffodil stems and purple jack-in-the-pulpit. They tone tribal songs and beat rhythms, stomp and twirl while they chug apple cider permeated with foxglove pollen. Their sweet enjoyment never questions the unusual container—a gourd.
“That little rat turd was right. This is ‘a treat to die for.’” And with that, Grot laughs and, simultaneously, projectile vomits across the courtyard, knocking over a prized alum statue of the vermel hero, Laric.
They enjoy the ‘special delivery’ until their eyes dilate and visions blur, sweat pours, their heads ache and they grow dizzy to stagger, bouncing from wall to gate to ground, hallucinating.
“Get it off me,” Skeet screams, pushing the rotund guard, Leel, against the wall.
“They’re shredding my skin.” Leel jumps frog like, shaking off imaginary attackers.
“Plasicians, everywhere,” Grot beats the air, screaming, “… where’s my hand? One’s eaten my hand.”
With Grot’s freshly severed hand clenched between his teeth, Leel runs a frantic path, defending himself from monsters that glimmer, appear and disappear, in the smoky haze of the courtyard.
The guards turn on each other. Green, red, yellow, brown—every imaginable bodily fluid splatters floors, ceilings and walls, courtyard and foyer. Fingers, hands, arms, pendulum sacks are ripped off, chewed and spat out. Hearts enlarge and pound faster than time itself.
Stricken, the vermel bob and weave like gas lights in tunnel drafts, attacking each other with blades, tearing with razor edged double rows, and bludgeoning the real and the imaginary with the dismantled statue of Laric. A sharp blue metal foot wielded by Skeet runs toe to heel into Leel’s misshapen yam of a head.
One by one, and some taking each other down in pairs, they sink into the hallucination of an undulating floor, shiver in perceived cold blue light and writhe to the flaming heat of red visions.
Their brains expand and press to burst, pounding, scratching confined in their bony prisons, but there’s only one way out. The Pop–Pop-Popping begins. Each eye bulges until its window explodes. What pushes to freedom oozes slowly downward into a screaming mouth.
Others' bodies protest with volcano-like vomit and explosive bowels, expressing dissatisfaction with the cuisine. The lucky die swiftly, a few linger.
**********
Asmel picks up the empty gourd and throws it against the rough uneven rock wall, shattering it to pieces. Jamie kicks bodies, checking for life. Hunter steps over, around and through the dead.
“There …,” Hunter points, “and there.” Several vermel moan and call to their gods in murmuring, chanting tones. Red pustules cover their hands and faces while praying lips pulsate, crack, bleed, and ooze vomit and drool.
“Let’s give ‘em a break, ole buddy,” Asmel laughs. He reaches down, throws Skeet over his knee and snaps the quivering vermel’s back. “Love that sound, don’t you?” He stands and Skeet rolls to the floor.
“Music, my friend ... pure music.” Hunter pulls Grot up by his hair and with a swift twist snaps the large, gate-guard's neck. Jovial, he casually tosses the body aside, satisfied that the battle has begun. He turns to walk ahead but stops with a mischievous grin and a twinkle in his eye. He walks back and stomps on Grot’s head, splattering it like an overly-ripe, valley melon. Hunter wipes his boot on Skeet’s back and looks around, pleased.
"That guy remind you of somebody?" Asmel slaps Hunter on the
back.
"Yeah, Jacknel." Hunter spits.
They look at Trell.
"What?" asks Asmel, raising his shoulder. "You don't do that?"
Hunter bursts out laughing when Asmel stomps another 'punkin' head.'
Needless to say, Trell is amazed at the 'peaceful' men's vigorous enjoyment of the kill.
“This way.” Jamie takes the keys from Grot’s belt and heads toward the Vertant dormitories. In the hallway, a delirious straggler exits the relieving chamber, vomits and staggers right into Trell.
Mechanically, the guard draws his sword. Trell takes the challenge and with two clashes, he runs the shivering guard through and pins him to the wall like a cockroach to wiggle his last, merciful compared to the mind-splitting intra-cranial light show which would have followed. Then with a swift jerk, Trell withdraws his sword to admire its first blood.
Jamie unlocks the dormitory door. Vertants and vermel, all branded just as Jamie had described with the horizontal double waves on their right cheek, clamor to get out. Alerted by the noise, a dozen Central Compound Black Guards rush from both ends of the central corridor toward the dormitory.
Grabbing display swords and trophy spears from the walls, the Warriors and Dissident Army captives let go a united yell, ‘Rhooo ah,’ and rush forward as one. The guards never know what hits them. Many never even draw their swords.
Surprised heads fly; mouths open, they roll to rest on an ear or the flat back of their heads, gaping upward. Geysers of blood shoot from the decapitated bodies that slide blood trails down the narrow corridor walls to line up for inspection.
Cut off from the others and cornered by a small wiry guard in an alcove, Asmel loses his footing on the carnage and fumbles his sword. Just as another huge gorilla sized Black Guard lunges forward to impale Asmel, a not so young but well trained vermel canzu, named Larue, jumps on the large guard’s back, diverting the sword thrust toward Asmel into the wall, slicing Asmel's ear. Jamie takes on the small wiry guard.
Larue’s eye gleams and he shoves his blade full into the dark guard’s sizeable hump. It runs straight, slick as butter, to exit the stomach, relieving the huge beast of green bile which mixes with the red on the floor. All swirls to brown when the guard rages, roars and, ignoring his injury, reaches around for Larue.
In one swift move, Asmel kicks his fumbled sword up into his hand and recovers his stance just in time to save Larue, who’s rising up to stand within the guards reach. Asmel pushes Larue back down, steps on his back and runs his blade through the guard’s astonished eye. Larue then comes up from underneath, and with a curved blade snatched from a nearby severed hand, he swivels to gut the staggering attacker. The Black Guard swims his last air-strokes, dragging his own pulsating intestines and liver, then falls dead.
Asmel, bloodied and thankful, and Larue, the branded dissident, grin affirmative camaraderie. In seconds that felt like forever, the Warriors, Jamie and the dissident vermel and vertant soldiers, Trell, Hunter, and Asmel are all that’s left standing. They turn to Trell and raise their weapons in one cheer of solidarity to their leader whom they thought was dead long ago.
“Trell, you’ve returned.”
“Thank the gods of our fathers …”
Asmel and Larue bow, acknowledging their brotherhood.
Suddenly, there's an interruption. There’s a noise, a shadow in the doorway. The Warriors and soldiers press their backs against the wall, trying to become the wall, to disappear into it. Eyes dilate and mouths open wide enough for them to crawl inside themselves and hide.
Larue and the other vermel dissidents connect collectors and begin to pray, to chant, to weave from side to side. A fearful presence that they don’t recognize paralyzes the bravest of the Under Earth.
A mountain of fur with a little red fuzz ball seated on its back stands in the entrance. “Did you leave nothing for us to do, Father?”
Trell steps forward and places his hand on Beh’s head. The crowd relaxes with a sigh of relief and much mumbling of ‘look at that,’ ‘he’s not afraid,’ ‘what is it’ but still they keep their distance.
“Meet my son, Blathen and his friend, Beh.” Trell gives another disapproving stare at the son with a mind of his own. Blathen merely smiles, eyeing the gore. Red— my favorite color.
There's an audible gasp. They all kneel, knowing that this is Trolious’ grandson. They see his Prime One identity in the dual collectors that he waves in greeting. This great one has tamed a monster and is unafraid. Blathen raises his hand, instinctively, and the crowd stands.
“Finish what you have come to do,” Blathen says calmly. The Under Earthers take it as a proclamation. Once more Asmel and Hunter watch. Trell nods to his son while Beh snorts a low, though frightening, exclamation point.
Everyone sprints to do as commanded. They release the female captives.
Gima rushes out with the others and bumps headfirst into Trell.
Trell and Gima stare and think the same thing: I had no idea you were here. They say everything else with a brief touch of hands to cheeks, an electric moment.
“Hurry, we must leave.” Trell chorts, holding her by the waist.
“We must take them all, Trell.” Gima motions toward the others.
Trell looks at the faces—frightened to stay, eager to go. “Hurry then.”
Jamie is frantic. “Where’s Picar?”
Down the corridor in Warik’s plush living area, Picar, scarred by Sadie, branded by Warik, kicks down the door and lets out a blood curdling whoop. He jumps from stone floor to tabletop to marble counter and grabs a steel-tipped staff mounted on the wall. With one more leap and an imaginary target on Warik’s chest, he lets go the javelin. Warik looks up just in time to see himself Shish Kabobbed to the pig skin pillows. His bald head slumps to his chest.
Blathen rides in on Beh with all of the others in tow. Warik looks up long enough to see them, covers his face in fear and passes out.
Jamie reaches out his hand to Picar’s crazed expression. Feet still antsy, Picar eager to continue, Jamie persuades, “Picar, let’s go. Let him die slowly, suffering. He can’t hurt us. Picar, let’s go!” Picar runs to embrace the only one he’s ever loved.
With Blathen riding Beh in the lead, they all silently hurry from the compound by the back gate and head to the tunnels.
| Author Notes |
Plasicians- folklore monster of the Vermel
Thank you jbdjd123 for your 'Hint of Autum.' UNDER EARTH SPECIES: Vertant-the off-spring of two Vermel; looks human. Vermel-mutated humans who live in Under Earth; communicate via sign language and various sounds; noted by their single, particulate-collector naris; one eye; dark or red, coarse body hair; flat or twisted feet with three to six long toes; three fingered hands with long curving claw-like nails; pointed teeth in irregular, double rows; intelligent, but with strong base instincts. Particulate collector - a Vermel adaptation to living in a polluted underground; mutation ; porous tubular filaments; can extend from the naris in a searching fashion; they both taste and smell; alert to emotions of other species; Verdants may or may not have remnants, nodes in nasal pharynx tissue(back of throat). dissident-rebel, nonconformist, protester; somebody who publicly disagrees with an established political or religious system or organization. calabash- a gourd cattail torch- cattails soaked in animal fat and dried can last up to six hours depending on their size. gambian-as in gambian rat; a large rat species; pets in Under Earth DRINKS & SMOKING Elixirs: Euphoric-Blue - arouses passion without arousing anger or fear Green - calms aggression and base tendencies to mutilate, kill, cannibalize Caramel-clarity(female enhancement) Ruby-rigidity (male enhancement) Violet- given to submissives, primarily Vertants, to change their behavior to aggressive in order to please the Vermel customer at Club ErrOw's Chambers. Fitzel- a carbonated alcoholic beverage; a light intoxication; makes one funny, silly, uninhibited, kind Smoking- usually a mix of madine and sedderthal Hallucinogenic fungi grown in Bellow City Fazil- a smoking or chewing compound that stains the teeth Arnag-a fungus grown as food; a favorite rubber-chew flavor Tartanulum - a tasty smoking compound containing spiders Madine and sedderthal- a narcotic laced smoke; one drifts into mindlessness for a time; no thought, no worries. Verbenium - a pill; dissolves under the tongue to speed orgasm; used when time is of the essence. LOCATIONS: Under Earth- a civilization that exists totally under ground; Vermel territory. Bellow City- located in Under Earth. Jacknel's Arena- where Hunter and Trell were trained and exploited as 'Man' and 'Man #2'. Club ErrOw- a dance club downstairs; Chambers for coupling are upstairs. Sadie's Palace - a night spot where Vertant males are displayed for Vermel viewing and pleasure; masterbation columns are very popular in the Mural Room as is the free elixir bar. Alitian - Sir Alitus was the atrium's designer CHARACTERS: Gima-a Vertant; rescued and raised by Hunter and Asmel Trell- a Vertant; raised by Vermel, escaped to Upper Earth; has not yet learned to speak but has learned to understand it from Gima, his mate. Blathen- Gima and Trell's Vermel son; single, particulate-collector naris, one eye; on the hierarchy of Vermel his appearance labels him a Prime-One. Zee-Gima's second son who looks human Hunter- Nigel once a business man in the city; was captured and tortured by Ticum to become 'Man' in Jacknel's Arena in Bellow City; 'Papa' to Gima; suffers from PTSD. Asmal- a survivalist; built a cabin in the mountains; rescued Hunter; raised Gima with Hunter; 'Papa-Azzy' to Gima Ticum-Vermel;Jacknel's Circus trainer; beat and tortured Hunter; deceased Trum- Vermel; Ticum's brother; Trell's trainer at Jacknel's Arena Sadie- runs a display and pleasure house featuring male Vertants; Trolious's niece Milim - Sadie's assistant a Vermel Picar-Vertant at Sadie's Jami-Picar's Vertant lover; Sadie's favorite. Mr. Arnst- Trell's abusive uncle; now a caznu(neutered)and no longer abusive Rom- Arnst's younger companion, lover Disposal Officer- Designated by numbers e.g. DO-45, DO-50; executioners; but they sell their prisoners, usually Vertants, on the black-market to various shady characters like Jacknel and Sadie for use in sport, entertainment, pleasure and artificial insemination collection and sales. Trolious- Head of Ministerial Affairs Lida - Trolious' wife Larue P. Darlit - Assistant of Ministerial Affairs; canzu(involuntarilly castrated by Dyrel) Vermel Brackus- Larue's Vertant charge and lover Lem- the youngest Vertant to escape with Larue's help Rolak- Chief Enforcement Officer Pike-the lead bounty hunter; brought Gima to Jacknel; his cousin; now the tattooed-cobra, a circus freak. Ruel- a member of Pike's bounty hunting party; attacked Gima at Mallard Lake, Pike killed him and hung him at the tunnel entrance, pointing the way to Under Earth. Teleck-Jacknel's office assistant; a voyeur. Mr. Colwin- Mr. C; manager at Club ErrOw Beh- a black bear; male; followed Trell home; camp's mascot. Shalu- a young female cougar Warik- Jacknel's competition; his Warrior Training facilities are in Upperton Vermel speech/sounds: twortle-a sound pattern distinctive to the Vermel; a combination of glottal stops, tongue click-clucks and snorts; an assertive pattern. chort- throaty sounds varying in tonal inflection and duration; normal speech; he chorts=he says. toning- saying; using a series of sounds other than speech thrumping songs-songs Trell learned growing up in Bellow City, Under Earth; melodic, throaty, glottal. thrump-a of singing pattern from the throat; Vertant and Vermel variation of humming. Vocabulary: particulate collector - a Vermel adaptation, mutation; porous tubular filaments; can extend from the naris in a searching fashion; they both taste and smell; alert to emotions of other species; Vertants may or may not have remnants; nodes in nasal pharynx tissue may be all that remain in Vertant. Arnag-a fungus grown as food; a favorite rubber-chew flavor Caznu-neutered male Vermel; usually gay and neutered by choice for the good of the gene pool by decree of Trolious ; castration is a common punishment regardless of sexual orientation. And-End - Amen Pernard- a Vermel curse Dangle- a Vermel penis; they have two dangles. Mintrinet - minute alum- short for aluminium; usually recycled cans; a valued metal. mold-blossom - a fungi; small, dark brown and caramel colored flowerettes cluster to form a large crysantehmum-type flower; its heavy, sweet decaying scent is used in perfumed oil. Events: Warrior Games - Under Earth competitions to the death; all are eligible, male, female, Vertant or Vermel; The odds are stacked in favor of the Vermel. |
By barkingdog
Warning: The author has noted that this contains strong violence.
| Author Notes |
Plesacians- folklore monster of the Vermel
Thank you Clip Art for 'Fantasy Swords.' UNDER EARTH SPECIES: Vertant-the off-spring of two Vermel; looks human. Vermel-mutated humans who live in Under Earth; communicate via sign language and various sounds; noted by their single, particulate-collector naris; one eye; dark or red, coarse body hair; flat or twisted feet with three to six long toes; three fingered hands with long curving claw-like nails; pointed teeth in irregular, double rows; intelligent, but with strong base instincts. Particulate collector - a Vermel adaptation to living in a polluted underground; mutation ; porous tubular filaments; can extend from the naris in a searching fashion; they both taste and smell; alert to emotions of other species; Verdants may or may not have remnants, nodes in nasal pharynx tissue(back of throat). dissident-rebel, nonconformist, protester; somebody who publicly disagrees with an established political or religious system or organization. calabash- a gourd cattail torch- cattails soaked in animal fat and dried can last up to six hours depending on their size. gambian-as in gambian rat; a large rat species; pets in Under Earth DRINKS & SMOKING Elixirs: Euphoric-Blue - arouses passion without arousing anger or fear Green - calms aggression and base tendencies to mutilate, kill, cannibalize Caramel-clarity(female enhancement) Ruby-rigidity (male enhancement) Violet- given to submissives, primarily Vertants, to change their behavior to aggressive in order to please the Vermel customer at Club ErrOw's Chambers. Fitzel- a carbonated alcoholic beverage; a light intoxication; makes one funny, silly, uninhibited, kind Smoking- usually a mix of madine and sedderthal Hallucinogenic fungi grown in Bellow City Fazil- a smoking or chewing compound that stains the teeth Arnag-a fungus grown as food; a favorite rubber-chew flavor Tartanulum - a tasty smoking compound containing spiders Madine and sedderthal- a narcotic laced smoke; one drifts into mindlessness for a time; no thought, no worries. Verbenium - a pill; dissolves under the tongue to speed orgasm; used when time is of the essence. LOCATIONS: Under Earth- a civilization that exists totally under ground; Vermel territory. Bellow City- located in Under Earth. Jacknel's Arena- where Hunter and Trell were trained and exploited as 'Man' and 'Man #2'. Club ErrOw- a dance club downstairs; Chambers for coupling are upstairs. Sadie's Palace - a night spot where Vertant males are displayed for Vermel viewing and pleasure; masterbation columns are very popular in the Mural Room as is the free elixir bar. Alitian - Sir Alitus was the atrium's designer CHARACTERS: Gima-a Vertant; rescued and raised by Hunter and Asmel Trell- a Vertant; raised by Vermel, escaped to Upper Earth; has not yet learned to speak but has learned to understand it from Gima, his mate. Blathen- Gima and Trell's Vermel son; single, particulate-collector naris, one eye; on the hierarchy of Vermel his appearance labels him a Prime-One. Zee-Gima's second son who looks human Hunter- Nigel once a business man in the city; was captured and tortured by Ticum to become 'Man' in Jacknel's Arena in Bellow City; 'Papa' to Gima; suffers from PTSD. Asmal- a survivalist; built a cabin in the mountains; rescued Hunter; raised Gima with Hunter; 'Papa-Azzy' to Gima Ticum-Vermel;Jacknel's Circus trainer; beat and tortured Hunter; deceased Trum- Vermel; Ticum's brother; Trell's trainer at Jacknel's Arena Sadie- runs a display and pleasure house featuring male Vertants; Trolious's niece Milim - Sadie's assistant a Vermel Picar-Vertant at Sadie's Jamie-Picar's Vertant lover; Sadie's favorite. Mr. Arnst- Trell's abusive uncle; now a caznu(neutered)and no longer abusive Rom- Arnst's younger companion, lover Disposal Officer- Designated by numbers e.g. DO-45, DO-50; executioners; but they sell their prisoners, usually Vertants, on the black-market to various shady characters like Jacknel and Sadie for use in sport, entertainment, pleasure and artificial insemination collection and sales. Trolious- Head of Ministerial Affairs Lida - Trolious' wife Larue P. Darlit - Assistant of Ministerial Affairs; canzu(involuntarilly castrated by Dyrel) Vermel Brackus- Larue's Vertant charge and lover Lem- the youngest Vertant to escape with Larue's help Rolak- Chief Enforcement Officer Pike-the lead bounty hunter; brought Gima to Jacknel; his cousin; now the tattooed-cobra, a circus freak. Ruel- a member of Pike's bounty hunting party; attacked Gima at Mallard Lake, Pike killed him and hung him at the tunnel entrance, pointing the way to Under Earth. Teleck-Jacknel's office assistant; a voyeur. Mr. Colwin- Mr. C; manager at Club ErrOw Beh- a black bear; male; followed Trell home; camp's mascot. Shalu- a young female cougar Warik- Jacknel's competition; his Warrior Training facilities are in Upperton Vermel speech/sounds: twortle-a sound pattern distinctive to the Vermel; a combination of glottal stops, tongue click-clucks and snorts; an assertive pattern. chort- throaty sounds varying in tonal inflection and duration; normal speech; he chorts=he says. toning- saying; using a series of sounds other than speech thrumping songs-songs Trell learned growing up in Bellow City, Under Earth; melodic, throaty, glottal. thrump-a of singing pattern from the throat; Vertant and Vermel variation of humming. Vocabulary: particulate collector - a Vermel adaptation, mutation; porous tubular filaments; can extend from the naris in a searching fashion; they both taste and smell; alert to emotions of other species; Vertants may or may not have remnants; nodes in nasal pharynx tissue may be all that remain in Vertant. Arnag-a fungus grown as food; a favorite rubber-chew flavor Caznu-neutered male Vermel; usually gay and neutered by choice for the good of the gene pool by decree of Trolious ; castration is a common punishment regardless of sexual orientation. And-End - Amen Pernard- a Vermel curse Dangle- a Vermel penis; they have two dangles. Mintrinet - minute alum- short for aluminium; usually recycled cans; a valued metal. mold-blossom - a fungi; small, dark brown and caramel colored flowerettes cluster to form a large crysantehmum-type flower; its heavy, sweet decaying scent is used in perfumed oil. Events: Warrior Games - Under Earth competitions to the death; all are eligible, male, female, Vertant or Vermel; The odds are stacked in favor of the Vermel. |
By barkingdog
| Author Notes |
stiletto - a small dagger with a narrow tapering blade
Plesacian- folklore monster of the Vermel tracky-car - a train like vehicle that travels the tracks between Upperton and Bellow City Thank you MoonWillow for sharing 'Prying Eye.' It's perfect. UNDER EARTH SPECIES: Vertant-the off-spring of two Vermel; looks human. Vermel-mutated humans who live in Under Earth; communicate via sign language and various sounds; noted by their single, particulate-collector naris; one eye; dark or red, coarse body hair; flat or twisted feet with three to six long toes; three fingered hands with long curving claw-like nails; pointed teeth in irregular, double rows; intelligent, but with strong base instincts. Particulate collector - a Vermel adaptation to living in a polluted underground; mutation ; porous tubular filaments; can extend from the naris in a searching fashion; they both taste and smell; alert to emotions of other species; Verdants may or may not have remnants, nodes in nasal pharynx tissue(back of throat). dissident-rebel, nonconformist, protester; somebody who publicly disagrees with an established political or religious system or organization. calabash- a gourd cattail torch- cattails soaked in animal fat and dried can last up to six hours depending on their size. gambian-as in gambian rat; a large rat species; pets in Under Earth DRINKS & SMOKING Elixirs: Euphoric-Blue - arouses passion without arousing anger or fear Green - calms aggression and base tendencies to mutilate, kill, cannibalize Caramel-clarity(female enhancement) Ruby-rigidity (male enhancement) Violet- given to submissives, primarily Vertants, to change their behavior to aggressive in order to please the Vermel customer at Club ErrOw's Chambers. Fitzel- a carbonated alcoholic beverage; a light intoxication; makes one funny, silly, uninhibited, kind Smoking- usually a mix of madine and sedderthal Hallucinogenic fungi grown in Bellow City Fazil- a smoking or chewing compound that stains the teeth Arnag-a fungus grown as food; a favorite rubber-chew flavor Tartanulum - a tasty smoking compound containing spiders Madine and sedderthal- a narcotic laced smoke; one drifts into mindlessness for a time; no thought, no worries. Verbenium - a pill; dissolves under the tongue to speed orgasm; used when time is of the essence. LOCATIONS: Under Earth- a civilization that exists totally under ground; Vermel territory. Bellow City- located in Under Earth. Jacknel's Arena- where Hunter and Trell were trained and exploited as 'Man' and 'Man #2'. Club ErrOw- a dance club downstairs; Chambers for coupling are upstairs. Sadie's Palace - a night spot where Vertant males are displayed for Vermel viewing and pleasure; masterbation columns are very popular in the Mural Room as is the free elixir bar. Alitian - Sir Alitus was the atrium's designer CHARACTERS: Gima-a Vertant; rescued and raised by Hunter and Asmel Trell- a Vertant; raised by Vermel, escaped to Upper Earth; has not yet learned to speak but has learned to understand it from Gima, his mate. Blathen- Gima and Trell's Vermel son; single, particulate-collector naris, one eye; on the hierarchy of Vermel his appearance labels him a Prime-One. Zee-Gima's second son who looks human Hunter- Nigel once a business man in the city; was captured and tortured by Ticum to become 'Man' in Jacknel's Arena in Bellow City; 'Papa' to Gima; suffers from PTSD. Asmal- a survivalist; built a cabin in the mountains; rescued Hunter; raised Gima with Hunter; 'Papa-Azzy' to Gima Ticum-Vermel;Jacknel's Circus trainer; beat and tortured Hunter; deceased Trum- Vermel; Ticum's brother; Trell's trainer at Jacknel's Arena Sadie- runs a display and pleasure house featuring male Vertants; Trolious's niece Milim - Sadie's assistant a Vermel Picar-Vertant at Sadie's Jamie-Picar's Vertant lover; Sadie's favorite. Mr. Arnst- Trell's abusive uncle; now a caznu(neutered)and no longer abusive Rom- Arnst's younger companion, lover Disposal Officer- Designated by numbers e.g. DO-45, DO-50; executioners; but they sell their prisoners, usually Vertants, on the black-market to various shady characters like Jacknel and Sadie for use in sport, entertainment, pleasure and artificial insemination collection and sales. Trolious- Head of Ministerial Affairs Lida - Trolious' wife Larue P. Darlit - Assistant of Ministerial Affairs; canzu(involuntarilly castrated by Dyrel) Vermel Brackus- Larue's Vertant charge and lover Lem- the youngest Vertant to escape with Larue's help Rolak- Chief Enforcement Officer Pike-the lead bounty hunter; brought Gima to Jacknel; his cousin; now the tattooed-cobra, a circus freak. Ruel- a member of Pike's bounty hunting party; attacked Gima at Mallard Lake, Pike killed him and hung him at the tunnel entrance, pointing the way to Under Earth. Teleck-Jacknel's office assistant; a voyeur. Mr. Colwin- Mr. C; manager at Club ErrOw Beh- a black bear; male; followed Trell home; camp's mascot. Shalu- a young female cougar Warik- Jacknel's competition; his Warrior Training facilities are in Upperton Vermel speech/sounds: thwortle-a sound pattern distinctive to the Vermel; a combination of glottal stops, tongue click-clucks and snorts; an assertive pattern. chort- throaty sounds varying in tonal inflection and duration; normal speech; he chorts=he says. toning- saying; using a series of sounds other than speech thrumping songs-songs Trell learned growing up in Bellow City, Under Earth; melodic, throaty, glottal. thrump-a of singing pattern from the throat; Vertant and Vermel variation of humming. Vocabulary: particulate collector - a Vermel adaptation, mutation; porous tubular filaments; can extend from the naris in a searching fashion; they both taste and smell; alert to emotions of other species; Vertants may or may not have remnants; nodes in nasal pharynx tissue may be all that remain in Vertant. Arnag-a fungus grown as food; a favorite rubber-chew flavor Caznu-neutered male Vermel; usually gay and neutered by choice for the good of the gene pool by decree of Trolious ; castration is a common punishment regardless of sexual orientation. And-End - Amen Pernard- a Vermel curse Dangle- a Vermel penis; they have two dangles. Mintrinet - minute alum- short for aluminium; usually recycled cans; a valued metal. mold-blossom - a fungi; small, dark brown and caramel colored flowerettes cluster to form a large crysantehmum-type flower; its heavy, sweet decaying scent is used in perfumed oil. Events: Warrior Games - Under Earth competitions to the death; all are eligible, male, female, Vertant or Vermel; The odds are stacked in favor of the Vermel. |
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