Meat and Bone

The trouble with gods is that they answer to no one. A king must answer to nobles and ministers, a president must answer to his people, but a god answers only to himself. Memmon could not tell the super being to stay away from Klimbooreg. She warned him in vane of the dangers that lay there, but while she slept he slipped away to feed his curiosity of this new world. Where he was she did not know but knew she could not follow. She had lost her hope, she had lost her vengeance, she had literally lost her god.

She did not meet her bossie sister Carrissa in the tunnels of Klimbooreg as arranged. She could not face her with such failure; it was better to not find the god at all than to have found and lost him. Many had made such a journey before, some returned empty handed and many even died. All who under took this improbable quest were hailed as heroine and martyrs to the cause. Their names were marked in the secret caves and their belongings divided among other future travelers as icons. Memmon knew this would not be the honor bestowed upon her.

Now she must undertake a second quest into the wasteland to salvage what she could of an incomplete mission. This was not the way she had traveled before. It was a short cut rarely taken due to its immense dangers. In the distance set the fortress of Modrog the farthest outpost before entering into the great forbidden. Ahead of her were now mountains of snow that would lead into barren fields of ice and beyond the ice was her destination. A place she has been before. The womb of the gods, the lair of her master Rex, Earths secret seat of power...Purgatory.

It grew late in the darkness of Earth and Memmon Atrusk grew weary of travel. It had been days since she had rested or eaten well. The pit pond before her would have fresh sqill swimming beneath it, more than enough meat for her journey. She would have to supply her self well before entering the wastelands and this would be her last opportunity to do so. There at the opening of the salt water well she threw in her sqill cord and waited. For hours she sat patiently in the biting cold not moving except to flick her rest and jiggle the cord.

Suddenly with out alarm the cord jolt with a quick savagery. Memmon pulled and heaved giving fight back to her prey below. She faced the chance of being pulled down into the pit with the beast, trapped and unable to climb out of the slick cold walls. There she would be devoured entrails first as it an several other of this aquatic pack animal would feast to a frenzy at her soft part until they had emptied her torso of all it organs leaving no more than a meat and bone shell.

The Bossie freedom fighter yanked the cave lake creature from it watery pit to begin their land battle. It flounced and flailed she swung and dodged. The sqill was ferocious, but no match for Memmon outside of the water. Finally both were exhausted, but only one was still within her domain, the daughter of miners gave the beast its final blow. She ate well that day then packed the separated parts of her capture away for another long and perilous trek.

A Strange Absence of Sound

For many days now Memmon has been traveling back towards the wastelands. Here at the edge of them she begins to remember the harshness of its deadly landscape. She hesitates to re-enter, but she has no choice. The god may be lost but not his domain. Purgatory still exist deep in the icy forbidden and it is there in this thought to be mythic place that she would find the answers to her problems... How to find a missing god? How to tame him? How to use him and if that should fail how to destroy him.

The trip back into the wastelands was quieter than usual. Not the typical hush that she was accustom to but a strange absence of sound with an odd faint odor in the breeze. She continued on but with greater caution, something seemed not right. As the odor became stronger a feeling of peril began to slowly seep inside her. She did not know what it was, it could be a dozen different things but she did realize she was no longer alone.

She was tired but dare not stop. What ever was stalking her did so with unusual stealth. If she could reach the frozen flats she might be able to put some distance between it and herself. Memmon traveled day with relentless intent to be on the flatlands before nightfall. The smell of what was behind her was not as strong but still lingered. She could not take the chance that she had evaded her pursuer, she continued on.

With immense relief Memmon stepped upon the frozen flats to begin the most dangerous portion of her venture. Ice deserts such as theses are considered by most to be impassible. Cold days and freezing nights have littered the landscape with statue-like figures of those who had formerly tried to cross. Quick freezing currents of wind plagued this area instantly solidifying those unfortunate enough to have stepped in their path. Memmon, however was less concerned about this and more that the strange odor from days ago had returned. She glanced back and for a second thought she saw something move in the distance but then nothing. What ever hunted her was determined to catch its prey and patient enough to lurk with out being seen.

Unable to stop, the bossie ate her sqill raw while walking towards the mountains in the distance before. The prowler behind her was still following. The mountains would be a prime opportunity for it to attack. There it would use the rocks and cliffs to maneuver around to her close enough to pounce. She would not be able to evade it. It was obvious to her that the creature was tracking her by the scent of her sqill. She knew she could not leave her precious rations behind to throw off her predator; she would starve to death long before she reached purgatory.

The situation became more desperate as Memmon approached the mountains. Above the great peaks a storm began to form. If she did not reach the shelter of the Hoja cliff caves before its freezing wind and rains were released she would be instantly killed. The stalking beast behind her would have noticed the danger also, would it attack first then quickly drag her mangled body to the safety of a cave to gorge in peace or patiently wait until she had found hollow trapping herself so that it might come in behind her to have its way.

The Fate Favored Monster

She knew that fate now favored the monster. The cave was just ahead and the beast odor was incredibly strong. It was close, so close that she knew it could reach out and touch her. What ever this menace was it had a calculating temper. Memmon a last understood its stratagem...It would wait until she had entered the cave as the storm came in to trap her in side, it would then enter for an easy slaughter. The bossie Rebel had other plans however. She never traveled anywhere unarmed. Though it appeared she only had a club, hidden beneath her coat unknown to the fiendish follower was an incineration pistol. She would travel deep within the earth, choose a vantage then ambush her would be attacker.

As she reached the mouth of the cave the smell of the beast was nauseating. Memmon paused to think in horror. The creature seemed brilliant; it may have reached the cave before her and already entered. If this was so then she was walking into same trap she had designed. Her only chance was to have her weapon drawn before she entered. The element of surprise no longer be hers, but its.

Down into the dark corridors she traveled until there was only slivers of darkness dancing across the cave walls. The storm came in with an eerie scream and large balls of ice that pounded the mountain like artillery in an assault. The beast could not have been outside, nothing could survive the tempest. It was then she knew for certain that the monster was already inside the caverns with her.

The smell of the creature permeated the cave. A stink of foul musk in this damp, but warm place in the earth. An unnatural warmth that seemed to filter through its passages and moisten its walls. Suddenly a sound...movement in a corner...and finally a horrific but familiar moan. This cave was not uninhabited; the beast that stalked her across the ice fields may have been smart enough not to enter this cave after all, for what dwelled here in the darkness was so terrifying for Memmon Atrusk that she considered taking her chance outside in the storm. The beast had probably decided to die quickly outside instead of painfully slow from what lurked in here. Memmon rushed to find the cave entrance. It was better to die outside with the beast that hunted her than to fall prey to the monsters that dwell in the darkness.

The bossie did not make it to the exit before the attack. Tentacles arose from all over lunging to grab her and pull her back. She did not know what the stalker was that followed her here, but these creatures she was all to familiar with. They were Ochoghee, severely mutated human males whose only purpose was to inseminate human females to continue mankind’s existence. These however were wild ochoghee that pack together in dark caves to penetrate one another in a writhing sweaty copulative gathering. Unlike the domesticated, these have no female to pleasure their genetically increased desires therefore the globular masses of flesh mingle themselves in large piles to satisfy one another. It is unfortunate for any women to happen upon these female starved abominations, for she is instantly seized, pulled into the pile, tentacles stuffed in every orifice to be continually penetrated to death.

Memmon fired her weapon. She could not allow her self to be taken by these impure creations. Few survive what they would put her through, but worst would be to survive after it. One is never the same after an attack. Flames arose and fell but they would not yield. One after another she incinerated them but more seem to come out of nowhere. They were driven by a mad need that was more important than even their lives. Finally surrounded Memmon feared the worst. The loss of her god had cursed her and it was here that fate would penalize her for her failure. A slow death of agony and disgrace.

 

Tremble as I Breathe

She felt a tentacle around her wrist and the pistol pulled free. With desperation she tried vigorously to pull from their grasp. Her feet suddenly slipped from under. She fought with everything she had, but hope of escape was only a burden to her mind. The ochoghee had her and their was nothing that could be done but to except fate.

Memmon could fell the warm wet appendages madly searching beneath her garments for an opening. She let out a scream, but her voice was cut short as the ochoghee found their first orifice. Memmon began to choke as the tentacle slid down toward her stomach. Tears rolled down her eyes as she felt herself being entered below. Darkness fell about her. All she could feel was pain.

A semi-comatose state fell over memmon. The pain became an appalling pleasure. She fell into a deep dream of which she did not want to return. Within her false euphoria she found herself back within the secret seat of power. She walked down the halls of purgatory to find her master, the heir of trudeau, the god of destruction... Rex the red.

He was a titan in her mind, towering inside his metal bonds. His eyes were like fire, his skin like snow and his hair the color of blood. An invincible structure in the form of a man. Quickly Memmon set her deity free from his eternal made prison. She handed him his magnificent garments, then his weapon of power. The Bossie pilgrim stood beside him ready to take back their world of woe. The mighty red master of destruction fired his doomsday pistol and all fell to its strike.

But dream turned to nightmare as she felt herself filled in every socket of her body. For her dream was the vision of a child raise on the folk-lore of a dark deliverer who would wipe the earth clean to begin anew. Memmon; however was no longer a child, nor was she naive as before. She felt betrayed, for deep in the hearth of purgatory she found the unexpected...a mere man imprisoned in an ancient device. How could this Rex be a god? He was a buffoon, a madman weak from a strange deep sleep. She saw no great power; the earth did not tremble at his breath, and the only thing that seemed to tremble was this Rex.

Anger surged through her. A vicious embitterment that grew to rage. To die for a false religion was too much to bare. Memmon saw the face of her deceiver over and over in her mind. A grin of foolery, Eyes of feebleness and a frame of frailty. This puny malefactor could not save her people and even if Rex could she doubted he would. She embraced within her pain a new faith, a separate but similar religion than the sisterhood of Trudeau. Her devotion would be to the martyrdom or Rex.

In her enlightened state fate yielded it grasp of her life. She felt her hand caress a familiar object in the dark. Her strength was miraculously restored as her anger for Rex fueled her determination. She broke free, firing her pistol with cold accuracy. Memmons slaughter brought her to the brink of delight, she bask in the pain she dealt. She seemed to danced through them effortlessly. The cave became a blaze with her madness. Flames and molten flesh parted for her as she procured her escape. Into the wilderness she fled. The storm had ceased its fury; yet the storm inside her heart continued to brew.

Memmon pulled the remaining severed tentacles from inside her as she continued her sprint. She would make her way back to purgatory. There she would learn its secrets and wait. Like a monster in the dark she would set a trap for this Rex Trudeau. He would be made to experience all the suffering that she had endured, he would tremble as she breathes and once his life was extinguished she would take his corpse to her sisters as a martyr to her cause. They would then realize that the human race must wait no more. If they wish to be free they must fight, even to the end of them all.

The bossie warrioress new that she had not truly survived her ordeal in the cave. Ochoghee were designed to impregnate human females. To keep the race in existence. Women bare either normal female humans or male Ochoghee. This however occurs only in the domesticated breed. Wild Ochoghee are tainted, extremely genetically inferior. A child from them would be something totally different from those bred pure. A monster of a sort that could kill her at birth or even if she were to survive kill her sometime after.

The odds of not being pregnant were just about nil. It was what the ochoghee were bred for. Still, if their was a child from such a union as this, even if it appeared normal their might be oddities to arise later in life. If the child was male it would be most certainly be an abomination. Any offspring would slow Memmon down, an anchor that would grow heavier as time went by. An abortion was impossible with out killing herself. The fetus attaches itself in too vital an area as to be removed. Her only choice was to take a chance and carry it to term.

The bossie welcomed this new burden to her life. Strength could only come from such misery and that which is unexpected would keep her alert. It had given her power beyond that of any false god. She no longer feared the world. It had now thrown her its worst. she would continue to cross the seemingly endless scape of ice and snow. A cold inhospitable frozen rock that she calls home and all who dwell upon it call Earth.