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Thanksgiving, Year 8


August 18, 2016 by Lyn

Rix’s Guest Story

Content warning: rape, violence, and murder. 

She was wide awake so suddenly she realised at once that it couldn’t be natural. She was on her back with thin padding over something hard underneath her. Her arms were stretched and pinned above her head. She was naked from the waist down and someone was on top of her, no in-

“Forgive me for starting without you,” it was purred into her left ear, “But I didn’t want you to waste energy on resisting the preliminaries and have nothing left for the main event.” The speaker’s face moved into view above her as a cold, rigid-blade was pressed into her right cheek and neck. Yellow irises, round pupils, pointed ears laid back against his head with rings in the piercings down the outer edge of each, purple slate skin and hair the same colour in tight little braids ending in gold beads. No-one Penny knew. She tilted her head to try and see her hands but he was using the high point of his folded bat-like wings to hold them down. He’d probably had to position her just right to do that. “What, no screaming?” He purred again and the knife pressed harder into the side of her face. Just the fact of it, no threat with the edge, yet. The handle and his fist were on the side of her throat and the thing extended past its contact with the skin of her cheek. How big was it?

“Wings…could be cool.” Even to her own ears, she sounded like she was only trying to be brave.

“No-one will come and find you, you know.” It was obvious to her that he was enjoying himself, even without the thrust up into her he gave in emphasis. “If you have friends to go looking, you humans are such dumb cattle, those idiots in the store probably won’t connect you with the poor young woman who had one of her fainting fits and whose husband had to carry her back to their car.”

Something about his voice. “You followed me into the shop…” She’d held the door open for the young man in the sheep skin jacket and ear flapped hat so it wouldn’t hit him in the face behind her. She remembered thinking at the time that he’d looked nice. He’d said thank you and she’d something like “That’s alright.”

“Because we came in together, they believed me when I said I was your husband.” He chuckled and thrust up inside her. “You were polite. That earned you points for being a good girl,” he thrust again, “You really wouldn’t like what I’d do for us to get to know each other if you were a bad girl. I’d followed you for over a block,” she’d been walking from Kath’s mother’s house to pick up something they’d run out of for the holiday, “And you didn’t notice me.” He nuzzled her neck just behind the corner of her jaw under her ear then without lifting his lips from her skin he moved across to the corner of her mouth, then licked upwards to end just under her eye. “You smell of milk and baby.” He smiled in a way that made her fear for the twins, “So where is your child, little mother?”

“Somewhere safe.” Her voice sounded thin, scared, defiant.

“Oh, you say that now.” He moved the knife away from her face. “Let’s have a look at the rest of you, shall we?” He moved his weight to her left onto the elbow of his free arm and slid the knife up between her breasts and lifted. It cut through her bra and shirt with frightening ease. He flicked the two halves aside and laid the blade back alongside her face. “These do look nice. Let’s have a taste, shall we?” The stranger’s mouth came down on her left breast and began to suckle, as if in some awful parody of one of the twins.

This is really happening. He’s a Mara. Too big and strong for me to get away. Doesn’t he know? Wait, “You humans”, no, he doesn’t. My only advantage. Is he a Ned? What would he do to the babies? Kath? Her Mum? Wait, babies eat then sleep… The germ of an idea spun in her head as he lifted his head from her breast.

“You do taste good,” he drawled then casually reached down and squeezed her buttock, digging in his nails or claws and making her jump. Her hands grasped at the leathery wings pinning them and her fingers wrapped around the bases of the spurs that jutted out from those joints. He paused, “That does feel good.” He grinned and ordered, “Rub your fingers on that thick band of skin around the base of those spurs. Don’t stop until I tell you.” As she began to rub, he moved his mouth to her right breast and began to suckle again. The next thrust inside her seemed deliberate but after that was a group that felt – uncontrolled. He broke away from her breast and gasped, “Stop!” She let her hands go still. “Oh you’d make a nice little pet,” his free hand squeezed her left breast and he leant down to lick the small stream of milk off her skin.

Penny took the opportunity of his averted eyes to mouth, “Tempero tlactl,” and thought about him being thirsty for more milk. Would it work if there was no sound to hear? She needed subtle here, nothing so strong as to be unexplainable. Nothing he could hear, because then he’d know.

“Pity I can’t Keep you.” She didn’t have time for her heart to miss a beat before his mouth came down on hers in something that was half kiss, half bite and had her mouth being violated by his tongue.

She had no idea how long he carried on for. He kept her hands pinned with his wings and thus perforce kept her on her back under him where he could see her face. He seemed to enjoy the range of wordless sounds he could get her to make, moans and gasps of pain, pleasure and surprise. No screams but there were silent tears that he licked off her face with as much enjoyment as he raided her breasts for milk. Sometimes it seemed to her that she had lost control of her body and it thrust back at him in response to his rhythm, then he would do something painful and she would have it back again.

Finally he came in long, roaring, shuddering thrusts. He hung over her for a few moments, balanced on his forearms, breathing out all over her face, then he was up and crossing the room, casually tossing the knife onto an open bag of kit near Penny’s right.

She sat up slowly, shoulders stiff from her arms being held in place, taking in her surroundings. As she propped herself up with her hands beside her on the thin cotton mattress the remains of her shirt and bra fell to the ground. It appeared to be a corner of a disused industrial space, all concrete and disused equipment, with a few very recent additions. Let me guess, the mattress was so you wouldn’t skin your knees and the heater is so you don’t freeze your butt off. Probably can’t put him to sleep and keep him there. How much older then me is he? That could be a problem. He had his back to her, kneeling over an overnight bag or suitcase. A set of manacles on the end of chains hung down a wall and another two sets were on a work bench nearby. Penny put her left hand over her mouth to kill the sound and said into it, “Tempero tlacatl alpha.” It was the gentle Working she sometimes used to push an overtired twin into much needed sleep. His head dipped forward for a second. “Idu intinn, idu hugr,” again into her hand and she didn’t probe, she listened.

Satisfied he knew the girl well enough now to make her beg and scream on cue. Pleased his scenario seemed to be running to script, now she just needed to take the bait. Should he put her on the wall or the bench? Delicious on either… That big, shiny knife gleaming in the light so close to her hand and his exposed back were a trap that had worked before. A thread of regret that he couldn’t use hugr and enjoy his little game even more. Pleased he could fit his private pleasure into his trip from east to west between jobs/tasks/assignments/duties.

If not the steel blade, what else was in the kit bag? “Idu huamu,” again into her hand. Under the open edge of the bag, in a sheath and with a bone hilt, best not to ask what sort of bone, that was what she wanted. Up on her knees, over to the kit bag and silently pull the wooden blade from its sheath. She was going to get one chance at this so, “Idu tlacatl,” spoken into her left palm and thought of vulnerable locations. She regarded the length of the blade in her right hand and made her choice. “Tempero tlacatl beta,” into her hand, then as his head dipped forward, she moved quickly toward him on bare feet. It wasn’t until she plunged the rowan dagger into the space between his wing and neck, in behind the collarbone aiming for the loop of great artery behind the top of his breast bone, that she spoke again, “Abatu tlacatl gamma,” and imagined an extended blade shape around the real one in her hand, slicing further into his body.

As she jerked the knife backwards towards his shoulder blade, severing some of the nerves to his wing and arm, he spat out in realisation, “Ashanevai bitch!”

“Qorawiyay tlacatl delta,” she said firmly, knowing that none of her best Words would help here, and his lips seamed together and flesh grew over his nostrils. “Qorawiyay tlacatl delta,” as she pulled the dagger out for another strike on the other side and his tongue was stuck to the floor of his mouth. He was clawing at his face when she plunged the dagger in again on the other side, repeating her first attack Working, not so clean a hit this time but still doing damage and severing the nerves to his other upper limbs. She got a final strike and Working in to his kidney region, hoping for the arteries rather than the organs themselves, then retreated dagger in hand as he realised that he was running out of time but could still take her with him.

It was a macabre game of chasing with only one person who could be It and one who could do the chasing. He was fitter and almost certainly normally faster but now blood loss and the inability to breathe were catching up with him. Penny was extremely grateful for Luke’s PE lessons, without them she could never have pulled this much of it off. In the end he collapsed and stopped moving. She felt close to the end of her own energy and didn’t risk another working, but kept an eye on him and searched for her handbag.

It was under the pile of clothes he’d cut off her. The only garment that hadn’t been simply sliced off her body was her coat. She pulled the bag out of the pile then fished inside it for the mobile phone the school had made her carry off the premises. She remembered how to turn it on and how to make a call, she even remembered the emergency number for the school. She was beginning to shake when the phone answered. “Hello, this is Penny Brown. Could I please speak to Professor Fridmar, Luke or Doug? Thank you.” It seemed to take a lot of clicking for the call to be forwarded then, “Hello, yes, sort of.” “No, I don’t know where I am, I was unconscious when he brought me here. Look, I think I’ve killed a Nedetakaei Hunter. What do I do with the body?”


See my blog for a potential continuation of this story. 


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