Kisses From Hell Part 8

"Don'tcha wanna see what we got waitin'?"

Lick. Snap. Pound.

No, go away, go away. "I'm fine up here."

"Aw, come on. It'll be fun."

Lick. Snap. Pound.

Help! Go away! Help me! "No thank you. I'm fine."

"Whoo, boys! Ain't she cute, so proper."

More spiders bit at her legs, filling her with poison. Daring her stomach.

"Rheena!" Her birth mother paused the girl's h.e.l.l. "Oh, h.e.l.lo, boys. Shouldn't y'all be gettin' ready?" Rheena unpinched her eyes, stomach relaxing. "Well then, pick up your jaws and get goin'." They smirked hexes toward the girl and were gone.

For now.

"Ugh. You need to learn to stop distractin' them from their duties. Wh.o.r.e."

With one arm she ripped Rheena down from her seat of dreams and let her topple to the mud below. "It is almost time for the kill. We must prepare them to go. Above." She thrust one glowing shoulder toward the heavens, scrunching with fear and disgust; the last word a whisper. Her celestine blue eyes flicked, aware of the commotion around them. The hunters gathering their killing tools. Rheena could not see into the dark that engulfed them. "Come, girl. Wipe yourself off, you're always so filthy. I'll never get why you sit up there near the sun and risk bein' seen by one of them Others." Again, a whisper. As if speaking their name would tag those Below for death. Rheena smiled inside, hoping so. "It's morbid, Rheena. Revoltin'." She followed her birth mother's rant, dancing around pale bodies that shuffled about heavy and quiet with angst, until the opening of their cave was reached.

"Umm, excuse me?"

A sigh hissed past her birth mother's lips as she turned toward Rheena. "What is it now?"

"Could I go Above, with the men? Just once?"

"You are such a stupid, stupid girl."

Rheena was made to stand outside the mouth of their dwelling, invited in only when her father could be bothered with the sight of her. She nervously watched glowing figures buzz in and out of the openings of their hivelike residence. Don't leave me alone. Out here. With them.

"Do we really have to do this s.h.i.+t every single month?" The familiar speech from her birth father could be heard booming from outside their den where Rheena waited.

Always waiting.

"You women do not go Above, especially to hunt. It's men's work. Part of bein' a man. Why does that girl keep havin' to ask? She's gotta know that my answer's gonna be the same. No!" He paused, but as with all of the men Below he did not expect or want his wife's response. "Now bring her in here and I'll tell her. Again." The creak of his large wooden chair signaled that he had sat, exhausted and repulsed by the girl waiting outside. Like the months and years before, she tensed, waiting for her birth mother to shove her back inside to be greeted by her father's mask of hate and disgust.

But this time, something changed.

Rheena's birth mother cleared her throat; her voice shook with hesitation. "Should we actually stop her this time?" No answer. "I mean, she desires the Above so bad she will probably kill herself just tryin' to go up there. Shouldn't you just let her go?" The birth mother hurried along, allowing, hoping for no interruption. "No one'll ever pick her to breed, and she can't see good enough to even do simple tasks that need to be done around a house and for a man. We'll be stuck with her and everyone'll always look at you and me like we're no better than them that never grow. Really, you have done everything you can for that girl. So, I'm gonna ask again, should you stop her?"

"No."

One word decided fate.

One word proved love.

One word: free.

Her birth mother, the inventor of Rheena's new end, tore out of their cave, wrenched the girl's arm from her side, dragged her down a musty corridor, and thrust her into a large hole beneath the earth. With hateful satisfaction, her birth mother left the glowing inhabitants of the ma.s.sive area firm instruction: "She is to go Above with your men as they hunt. She is not to return." Rheena received nothing from the woman as she left.

Surrounded by hunters.

Surrounded by fear.

They waited for the final curve of the sun to set. There was no threat from the Others when night rose. The towering creatures were unable to survive in the absence of their sun. For stepping into the moon's time, the dark, awakened the Reaper.

The men Below began their ascent herded together. The ma.s.s grew hot with testosterone and killing fantasies. Rheena was groped, pushed, tripped forward as they marched up up up out of their hole.

Ants.

Three.

Crisp air still sprinkled with sun swirled around the girl birthed from the earth. Hunters scattered as she stood, motionless and thankful.

At last.

Inexperienced and young, she had no plan.

Only hope.

Always hope.

"Rheena." Her earth name floated, kissing the sky, murmuring good-byes. Home. Have I found you?

Light from the rising moon rubbed the dark of her hair. It shone onyx appreciation. The nameless looked around. Her old tribe shot arrows of annoyance and hate into her alien figure. They knew she did not join them for the hunt. The care she used when maneuvering through the thick gra.s.ses made their anger boil. How could she respect the Above? The gra.s.s tangled her new limbs, threatening to pull her back to where she was filthy stupid fun. She looked up as they looked out. She stood with arms outstretched as they crouched in hiding, waiting.

Always waiting.

They sank deeper into the tall gra.s.s, camouflage. Neglecting her Above as they had Below.

Except one. A man's ten spidery fingers wet with acid wove silent promises into her soul.

I will hunt you.

Find you.

Kill you. Lick you dry.

Freak.

Four.

She separated, nameless. Her cord cut.

Alive.

A broken spirit, she gently toured the mossy forest floor wide eyed, happy. She greeted the trees with her palms and poured her bare feet over their roots. She could feel the remnants of heat left by the summer sun and thanked the skies for their breeze.

The hunters were still close. She had not yet escaped the proud, primal outbursts of the kill. A wounded animal's cry shattered through new friends' trunks. It frightened her bruised body and flipped her down on the crunch of leaves.

The fall soft. Deceptive.

What sat in wait under, betrayal. Always waiting.

An Other's trap of rope had sprung. The nameless girl hurled back. Her friend's rough, thick frame proved unforgiving. Black spotted before her eyes, wordless beetles.

Five.

The sun awoke and knocked on Sol's open window. Without its presence his sleep was a coma. It tickled his neck and danced in song on his bare ebony chest.

Wake up, sleepyhead.

Do not go straight back to bed.

It's time to rise! It's time to s.h.i.+ne!

It's time to open your trap and dine!

Music, pa.s.sion. Wove jingles from nothing.

Open your trap and dine? "That is correct. I should have one from Below waiting."

Waiting?

Captured, hooked, snagged.

Hostage.

Murderer.

The Other wrung his mantis fingers, cracked his giraffe neck in preparation.

Ritualistic.

His kill. His feelings. His movements. All planned. Forever the same.

Murderer.

Sol opened the front door, calm.

Murderer.

Eyes closed, arms opening to embrace the scream that would engulf him. Part of his present.

Murderer.

But nothing. His gift echoed no noise.

Murderer.

"Nothing?" Sol deflated. Eyes cracked open. "Wait."

A something.

He robotically approached.

"What are you?"

The rope and leaves released, spilling the nameless. A young woman. Wrong color skin. He yearned for cloud white.

Wrong. All wrong.

Birdlike, he twitched fascination, curiosity. No emotion, never any.

She is unseen, alone, new.

He carried her inside. Placed her in his bed.

Effortless power. Strength of the G.o.ds. Speed stolen from wind.

Was this act compa.s.sion?