Date: Fri, 13 Oct 2000 08:31:39 -0600 From: Robyn Herrington Organization: University of Calgary Subject: [WRITERS] SUB: CONTEST: Promethean Fire Only 4 days remain in this year's Halloween contest. Have your entries to me, rmherrin@ucalgary.ca, by midnight October 17th, for posting on the 18th. GET WRITIN', you guys! We need a few more entries for this contest. There *are* prizes involved -- hand made glass paperweights, made by my own little hands... (see http://www.ucalgary.ca/~rmherrin/newglass.htm for some examples) Robyn -------------------------------------------------------------- Promethean Fire =========== "She's prepared? The drugs have reached full effect?" Merdinus stalked towards the seated girl, tiny eyes blazing above a thin slash of a smile. I glanced at my wristwatch and nodded, watching my master as he ran long bent fingers through her hair; stroking the side of her neck; cupping one side of her face. For all the reaction she gave, he may have been stroking a statue. "Good. She's very pretty, Perceval. You've outdone yourself." I studied her briefly, shuddering when I realised I was trying to see her as he did. She was achingly thin, dark rings around her eyes and lines across her forehead and around the edges of her mouth. She looked like she cut her own hair and she dressed to be avoided. I knew that if I rolled up the thin sleeves of her blouse I would find long needle tracks. She had the face of a woman who had seen too much and felt too little for far too long. She was too used up and thrown away to be pretty to my eyes. Merdinus leaned over the girl, almost touching his nose to hers. "Oh yes, she has felt much of pleasure and pain. Delicious." He reached into the air and produced a shiny scalpel, turning towards me and smiling as he did so. He twirled it around in his fingers and turned back to the girl, placing one hand on the left side of her face as he moved the scalpel towards her right eye. "Come closer, Perceval. You know the eyes are the windows of the soul. They are that indeed, and so much more." I wanted nothing less than to stand by my master, but I was powerless to resist his command. I stood next to him and watched as he pushed the scalpel blade slowly into the corner of the girl's eye. "The eye provides the passage by which we experience the world in all its miserable glory. It is the route by which all magicks travel to and from the soul." Perhaps the hardest thing to bear was the knowledge that the girl was fully conscious and would be feeling everything. The mixture of poisons and narcotics I had used kept its victims gripped in paralysis, but withheld the blessing of unconsciousness, no matter what agonies were visited on the body. "The eyes allow us to fully participate in the magick of this world and manipulate its course. Everything we are is held within these strange and surprising spheres." He sliced the scalpel carefully around the eye until it came completely loose. I had seen this grisly operation, far too many times previously, but I was still surprised by how little blood was produced. I always expected it to gush out, fountaining from the empty socket, instead of trickling slowly down the cheek like dark red tears. Merdinus severed the optic nerve with an easy motion and cupped the eye carefully in one raised hand. "Now, young Perceval, your final task. Test this." He held the eye towards me and I delicately picked it up. "My personal wardings will protect me from disease or mundane poisons, but as you know, there's no such thing as being too careful. Test it. But just a tiny taste." Sometimes I dream about the women I've kidnapped. They come to me with their arms open, voices calling softly from empty red sockets where their eyes used to be. They hold me close and whisper words of forgiveness before drowning me in warm bloody waterfalls. I slipped the eye into my mouth, rolling it round with my tongue. It tasted of bitter tears and sweet blood. I held it between my teeth and bit down gently, releasing a warm splash of salty liquid. Beneath the taste of tears were other tastes. Eyes hold the taste of all they've seen, all they've experienced. I savoured the taste of blue skies; rainy days; shimmering colours. The tastes spread through my body as I tasted and saw and felt all the girl had experienced. I tasted her confusion and pain. I relished her romantic imagination and love of music. I savoured her shame and self-loathing. I enjoyed her feelings of pain as much as those of pleasure. The moment when her final sense of self worth was destroyed nearly brought me to my knees with ecstasy. "Perceval, enough!" My master's voice tore me roughly from the girl's experiences and back to sordid reality. "Return the eye." More reluctantly than I cared for I spat the eye into his hand and licked a final taste of life from my lips. Merdinus held it carefully in his left hand as he spoke. "From women's eyes this doctrine I derive: They sparkle still the right Promethean fire; They are the books, the arts, the academes, That show, contain, and nourish all the world." I whispered an apology to the girl while Merdinus was speaking. I don't know if she heard me, but I know she'll visit me in my dreams, bringing forgiveness and blood. "Leave me, Perceval. Return in the morning to dispose of this baggage." I have been in thrall to Merdinus for just over three years. He is not unusually cruel, but feelings or moralities of others hold no relevance to him unless he is able to use them to better his own interests. When we first met he promised to reveal the answers to many mysteries. I have never known him break his word and he has indeed taught me much. Not least of which is that the dangers inherent in magick are very much overstated. There is some danger of course; it is possible to lose control if you overstretch yourself, just as it is possible to lose control of a fast car if you drive beyond your ability. The first thing Merdinus taught me is that the main dangers do not come from the practice of magick, but from other practitioners. He noticed my first fumbling magicks and came to me with the offer to show me more than I could imagine. He dazzled me with petty tricks and poetic prattling and I accepted his offer. There was a price of course, a small one. All I had to do was accept a simple binding, one that would ensure I would never use the things I learned against him. It seemed a minor thing and my eyes were filled with glittering possibilities, so I accepted. I willingly accepted his binding enchantment. I willingly, if unwittingly, gave myself over to be his thrall, completely under his power until he died or lost his connection to the magick. This is my greatest shame. Not that I gather women for him to mutilate and destroy. Not that I obey his every command, no matter how painful or evil the action. I carry guilt for all of these things but not responsibility, for I am incapable of resisting. My greatest shame is that I gave myself over to this life of servitude willingly and without thought of consequence. Merdinus has taught me much and taught me well. He has taught me what a fool I am. I dealt with the girl's eyeless body the next morning; hacking and slashing and burning all that would burn in the furnace in my master's basement. I was gathering up the few scraps of bone that stubbornly refused to succumb to the flames when Merdinus summoned me to his study. He was filled with energy and fire; I could feel his strength from across the room. "She was good, Perceval. She had experienced many of the pleasures and pains of our world. Exquisite. But there was something lacking. She had given up; she had nothing to live for and no will to care. At the end she was thankful. Thankful for the pain because it was so long since she'd felt anything. Thankful for the oblivion that lay ahead." "I know what you are doing, my boy. You are trying to salve your conscience by only bringing me those with no reason to live. In a small way, you are challenging me." I felt a tingle of anticipation dagger through my body. If I had angered him enough I may have finally found a way out. He wasn't a vindictive man, he would kill me as quickly and efficiently as possible the find a new thrall. Maybe my next order would be to jump under a bus or throw myself off a building. "Don't worry, Perceval. I'm not angry. It has been a long time since a thrall managed to challenge me. I find it quite.stimulating. Though it is only fair that I challenge you in return. I will need your next offering in three months time, as always. But this time you are not to bring me any junkies or disease-ridden street prostitutes. No more hopelessly lost souls. Bring me a woman with a long future ahead of her. A woman who has much to look forward to and desires to live. Bring me someone who has seen miracles, feels joy and loves life." I had researched my situation, of course. Merdinus gave me free access to his library, because he knew I couldn't release myself from thraldom. I was incapable of acting against him or arranging for someone else to do so on my behalf. I couldn't even explain my situation to anybody or I would long ago have turned myself in to the authorities. I still held on to the hope that I had a chance for redemption. I chose women who had no will to live or hope of finding it, in the belief that it would count towards keeping my soul from being damned for all time. Now Merdinus had ensured that in three months time my soul would truly be lost. Unless I was able to find a way to subvert his orders my thirteenth victim would be the one that crushed my every hope of redemption. In two and a half months Is till hadn't found an answer. The dreams were starting to creep into my waking hours. I started seeing eyeless women weeping tears of blood everywhere I looked. They'd hold their arms out to me and cry wordlessly, only to vanish when I tried to speak to them, comfort them. Then I saw her speaking at an environmental rally. She was in her mid-thirties, and spoke with passion and fire as she stared out over the crowd who had gathered to protest some new governmental or corporate crime against nature. Her voice captured me as she spoke about the things she had witnessed, miraculous and horrifying. She spoke of the future and how we could save the world, if we only held together and stood by our beliefs. She made me feel that I could have a future myself. As I watched her being lead from the stand after she finished speaking I knew that she was the woman I would take to Merdinus. She was the woman who would set me free. I had grown so practiced at kidnapping, transporting and drugging Merdinus' victims that when the day came I accomplished it once more without incident and barely a thought. She was seated in Merdinus' study when he entered, his tongue eagerly flicking back and forth between his lips. He followed his usual pattern of inane prattle before removing her right eye and passing it to me to test. I slipped the eye into my mouth and closed my eyes as the taste of her life spread through me. I hadn't tasted a happy life before and I was almost overwhelmed as I experienced her delights and minor catastrophes. Learning to dance and being the star of her school show. A brand new puppy called Marco Polo because he loved to explore. Her first, much anticipated, kiss. As always, Merdinus interrupted my raptures and demanded the eyeball be returned to him. I complied and watched as he slipped it into his mouth. He didn't dismiss me this time; no doubt wanting me to witness the complete violation of this woman who contained so much love of life. I stood by him as he slid slowly to his knees, dropping the scalpel to the floor beside him. Rapture spread across his face, as he tasted the woman's life, experiencing everything she had felt and seen. I watched him closely, waiting for the right moment, waiting for him to taste his way through to her early twenties. At university she had been an active member of an animal liberation society. She'd organised a raid on the university science labs to release mice and rabbits. One of the group had decided to take a little extra action and brought along a homemade bomb. She had discovered him planting it and demanded its deactivation. In the ensuing argument they had both discovered why homemade bombs were a bad idea. It detonated prematurely and killed its maker instantly. She had been lucky, she was protected from most of the blast by his body, and only lost her eyesight. Permanently. Merdinus issued a stifled scream and collapsed as he experienced that exact moment. The effect would only last for a few seconds, but during that time he was as blind as she was, and thus cut off from his magick. I quickly picked up the scalpel and rammed it into his heart before the blindness wore off and I became his thrall once more. He died without a sound. I was free, finally, wonderfully free. The woman who had freed me was still paralysed but I explained that her ordeal was over. I would take her to a hospital and they would look after her. I begged forgiveness, but I knew that for a change this woman would not be returning to me in my dreams. I moved to lift her and realised I still held the scalpel in my hand. I went to throw it away but a glint of light from her remaining eye caught my attention. I found myself staring into it, remembering the taste of its twin. Redemption awaited, but the eye called to me. I looked at the scalpel, studying the light as it reflected off the blade. She had brought me freedom, and maybe something else as well. She didn't need the eye. She was blind with or without it. She couldn't use the eye, but I could. Without even realising I'd made a decision I slipped the scalpel blade into the corner of her eye and started to slice. I took longer than Merdinus making a much more ragged cut which bled considerably. I ignored the flowing blood and slipped the eye into my mouth. I could see dreams of eyeless women crowding around me as I bit down hard on the eye, allowing the taste of the woman's life to wash me away. The End ====== -- ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Robyn Herrington New Currents in Teaching and Learning / InfoServe Phone: 220-2561 Email: rmherrin@ucalgary.ca Story ideas are like rabbits that have ventured unwittingly into view. The slightest noise or movement can spook them and they bolt off into the dark undergrowth never to be seen again. -- Adrian Bedford ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~