The Lion of Eomar by Eric K, Hasler (sight word books .TXT) 📕

She grabbed both of his hands and pulled him closer to her until their noses were almost touching, “Bodwin,” she whispered “there are some things that you don't need to know.”

He dropped her hands, looked deeply into her brown eyes and felt a tingle in his crotch, “what about the kiss,” he whispered, “you said it sealed the healing. What does that mean?”

“Well,” she said “there is no quarantee that you will not break yourself again. But, you will not break the same places again. Those parts are now sealed, unbreakable if you will.” She smiled, winked her left eye “let's go home, you need rest.”

“But...,” his words trailed off as she interrupted him “Bodwin my dear,” she said, “you ask too many questions. Can't you just be happy knowing that I care for your well being?” she smiled at him, placed her left arm over his shoulder. His crotch tingled again causing him to smile. Courage rose up in him as they walked towards The Rotten Splice empowering him to manoeuver his right arm around her waist; she scrunched in closer to him and started giggling like a little girl while Trayvr followed behind shaking his head and muttering to himself “Looks as though she has a new toy boy.”

Standing in the shadows, watching as Bodwin and the other two figures walked by, she couldn't help feeling apprehensive about the events she had just witnessed. 'I've got to get out of Eomar,' she thought. Holding still for a few moments, sucking in the serenity that she only finds in the darkness, staring at nothing while trying to ease the thoughts of that revolting smell out of her head, she noticed her whole body was shaking. The palms of her hands were dripping wet with sweat and she was subconsciously sniffing the air. She placed both palms on her cheeks and smiled as the soggy warmth stilled the shaking. Then turning in the opposite direction of the three figures, and walking deeper into the alley she sniffed the air and caught a whiff of something she hadn't recognized before. An extraordinary scent that made her feel as if she was sitting in the middle of a forest of cheery trees in full bloom. The mood she was in before these latest events returned bringing forth a balance to her walk. The calm, relaxing, soothing, and refreshing fragrance brought about the feeling of normality. She grinned at the feeling and quickened her pace, moving through different alleyways, and cracks, dodging the sleeping bundles of the desperate poor hidden within the shadows, while continuously sniffing the air, she hunted for the source. The stronger the scent became the less she cared where she was heading. Around another corner and into a wide alleyway the scent became much stronger, moister, kind of like the smell of summer rain, and yet had a very sweet floral tinge to it. She sniffed in deeply and felt her knees weaken. Her eyes widened, and she stalked forward. Fire torches hung in the bracers that lined this alleys wall producing a dull wavering orangey glow to the cobblestones that seemed to fight the darkness away, and yet she couldn't see the source. Moving through the glowing alley with the air of a cat, head swivelling left and right, sniffing for danger, she caught a whiff of a something spicy embedded within the sweet floral summer rain fragrance. She stopped, turned her head to the right, and peered down a dark alley, then smiled 'Got you' she thought.

As she wandered through the dark alley her heartbeats sped up. Her nose tingled; her eyes began to water ever so slightly as the fragrance strengthened bringing her almost to the point of ecstasy. Stalking slowly and deeper into the dark alley the divine fragrance seemed to be calling to her; no, encouraging her to come closer. With every footstep she sniffed deeper and deeper with pleasure, tasting the divine and creating a desire for more when the sound of her footsteps changed. They became more like a sticky kind of suction sound, the type that is heard when walking through a thick wet mud puddle. She looked down to see that she was standing in a dark black liquid. Lifting her left foot onto her right knee to look at the sole she noticed that the black liquid was more of a reddish colour, and the fragrance from it mixed with the dirty smell of her feet was almost irresistible.

Lucaresha continued moving forward slowly not knowing what to expect, strangely enjoying the warm feeling of her feet in the blackish reddish liquid while deeply sniffing the air, when she kicked something, stumbled and almost fell face first into the liquid. The sudden release of ecstasy caused by her stumble left her feeling hollow, and while squealing deeply but softly, she leaped backwards and unwittingly slammed her back against the alley wall. With wide eyes she started intently at the solid ball shape thing that had caused her to stumble. The harder she stared the more she managed to notice that it wasn't a ball. She crept forward, crouched down at the edge of the liquid, reached out with her right hand and touched the roundish object. It was kind of squishy and hard at the same time, the smell however, was fantastic. Reaching out with her left hand she grabbed hold of something that felt like fur, then sniffed deeply engrossing herself in the odour, closed her eyes and smiled with delight at the pleasure that was offered. Her hands continued to move over the object, in attempt to form blind recognition of what was being fondled, she failed. Opening her eyes, and then picking up the object, which made that suction type of sound, and bringing it close to her face, she noticed that she had hold of a severed female head. She dropped it, stood up, jumped back and once again slammed her back against the wall. Taste the blood said the voice in a tone that seemed to exude joy and confidence. “No!” she said. Go on said the voice with a hint of laughter. Her head fibrillated as she took two steps to her right and surveyed the scene. Looking through the darkness she could vaguely make out the silhouette of a leg on the other side of the alley, and a hand on a window ledge, but she couldn't see the body. Walking around what she now knew to be a blood puddle and subconsciously sniffing, she managed to find both arms, the other leg, but one hand and the torso was still missing. She leaned against a wall, realised she was sniffing, and despite the horrific feeling of the scene she managed to smile with pleasure as the fragrance continued to infiltrate her nostrils enticing a deep seeded desire for more.

Leaning against the wall trying to think of what to do next a drip splashed onto the crown of her head. 'Rain' she thought while sniffing the air. Another drip splashed on her head, then another. She looked up and saw the sign of the old fruit shop, which should have brought back menories of when she and Nicon use to steal apples. But instead, she found the limbless torso impaled on one of the points of the sign. Her eyes widened and her mouth opened, “By all the gods,” she said in a tone that suggested she was both appalled and awe struck by the sight, “who would do...” Her sentence was cut short as three or four drips of blood dripped from the corpse and fell into her mouth touching nothing but her tonsils. She automatically gagged, and tried to spit out the blood. Her head began to swim, and dizziness attacked her. She doubled over, stuck two fingers in her mouth and tried to tickle her tonsils. Don't do that said the voice sternly. Removing her fingers from her orifice, she tried to speak, but the dizziness became worse and she fell to her hands and knees. Tears welled up in her eyes, and that acid taste started boiling in the back of her throat, she tried again to vomit but nothing happened.

Raising her head and sniffing the air in attempt to hold back the tears she noticed that the fragrance had become stronger, sweeter, and spicer. A warm sensation started to swarm through her body, bringing peace, while at the same time producing a fear the enveloped her, almost torturing her internally. She began to get hot and flustered, sweat beads sprouted on her forehead, her vision doubled. Pain like she had never felt felt before arose in her stomach. Not a stabbing pain, more like fists trying to punch a hole through her stomach in attempt to escape her body. Her muscles compulsed, twisting her arms and legs into unnatural positions, and her heartbeat sped to an unbelieveable pace. She opened her mouth to scream, but all that came out was a terrifying cackle. Streams of tears carved their way down her cheeks and dripped from either side of her jaw onto the cobblestones, while the cackle continued, 'what's happening to me' she thought without any real hope of an answer. She shook her head trying to stop the cackle, but found that it only became worse; echoing off the alley walls the cackle sounded a little duller, and kind of funny, but also made her feel as if she could control it. So she tried to close her mouth and found that she couldn't. Panicking at the thought of this noise tormenting her for the rest of her life, she spoke to herself internally, demanding for it to stop. It continued. She shouted at herself in her head 'someone will hear us, and we will be caught, and tortured, and blamed for this murder, and then sacrificed to Dazbog. So shut up now!' It did. Her muscles stopped compulsing, and her heartbeat returned to what she thought was normal, and the internal fist fight with her stomach stopped.

Feeling relieved, sweaty, and short of breath she sat on her heels, looked towards the sky and noticed that morning was approaching 'I've got to get away from this mess.' As she started to climb to her feet the dizziness returned, with less force, but was seemingly inviting an uncontrollable shaking that quickly enveloped her and began producing a strong, deep, warmth within her head, which caused a steady stream of snot to flow down from her nostils and across her lips. As the shaking became more violent the dizziness made her feel a form of motion sickness. She leaned forward, placed her forearms on the cobblestones and rested her head on them in that prayer like position, and sobbed.

This will not last said the voice softly, almost encouragely. It is in you... it has always been in you. Taste some more blood and what you are feeling now will disperse.

“What is in me?” she sobbed out.

Ahaha... haha... hahaha...., was the soft, yet sweet reply. Grudgingly, she lifted her head, crawled toward the puddle, then lowered head towards the blood. Her hair fell into the crimson pool as she forced her face closer. With a sudden jerk backwards she said rather loudly, “No! This is disgusting.” The shaking returned bringing with it the dizziness; she sobbed again.

Yes said the voice in a calm and sweet tone, which suggested a form of compassion, it is disgusting to deny yourself the truth of what you are.

“What am I?” she whispered.

Daughter.... replied the voice softly.

Again she apprehensively willed her face down towards the puddle, then stuck her tongue out and halted. The shaking became worse as she fought with herself in attempt to keep her face from the blood, even though the fragrance was almost unbearable. Sweat beads began appearing on her forehead as she strained to keep her from inching downwards. The dizziness