7: The Wall of Fog
Andrea entered Mr. Morgan’s prison, the main door shut and locked behind her. Andrea’s face tightened with the release of pleasure as her form shifted into her demon. The prisoners started yelling for help; the fear was a true inspiration. The serpent in her mind was readying itself for tonight’s feast. “What do I have here tonight?” Andrea moved over to the human strapped to the torture rack. She was looking over the various instruments set neatly on the table, multiple saws, and picks. Andrea did not see the need to use any of those; she stretched her black clawed finger out.
The human’s eyes widened with terror as the succubus’s lips parted, revealing her fangs. If he could shake his head, he would, the gag in his mouth prevented him from adequately pleading for his life.
Andrea placed her clawed hand on the back of his head and removed his gag; his screams would fill her taste tonight. Andrea began to soak in his life force while climbing on top of him and straddling his waist. Andrea lowered her head down to his neck as she deeply inhaled, breathing in his fresh scent of fear. Andrea's mental chained inserted themselves into his screaming mind, Andrea felt an intrusion; Katalina’s presence filled her mind.
“Come to feed with me tonight, my goddess?” Andrea’s concentration allowed her to barely able to hold a conversation with the goddess. She was draining the very life out of the meal, the extreme feelings of ecstasy and pleasure. The experience was nearly madding; the only task that would make this more pleasurable was if she was mounting him in the throws of lust rather than just holding his paling head. Andrea moaned with delight, and her body and mind were sitting on the tipping point just before she would drain her victim to death. Andrea would make her decision in a few moments, either wipe his mind of the experience or kill him; she was leaning towards killing him.
Katalina enjoys these sensations; watching her Hand perform these brutal actions would generally bring her joy. Taking a life, or consuming a soul of another god was a delightful experience. Tonight was inherently a different reaction. Katalina projected forcibly into Ka’Azalins mind, “Ka’Azalin, FOCUS!”
Andrea’s attention snapped to here the goddess words, “Yes! What?”
Katalina had brought Andrea’s awareness to a level where her demonic desires could be placed under control. “You have this fetish about punishing those who you perceive that has committed sins you find desirable.”
Katalina continued, “How do you come to your conclusion?”
Andrea thought and responded, “I probe their mind. I can see their pas sins. Let me demonstrate.”
Andrea silenced her prey; his screaming would not help at this point. She reviewed his thoughts, and she could see him committing heinous acts of debauchery. Him killing for fun, stealing, raping men and women for his pleasure.
Katalina waited for her Hand to show her this new skill. Katalina enjoyed watching her Hands learn new skills and fall flat on their faces as they practiced; it was this failure that made them stronger. “You don’t see anything different between the one you fed on last, night, or the nights before.”
Andrea shook her head, “No, not a thing. What am I missing? “. Her mind started trying to review the last days and weeks off of her victims. Andrea knew that something may be wrong at this point or how long she had been doing something wrong. She knew that Katalina would show her the error of her ways and a more effective way of acting.
Katalina retrieved the images and thoughts. “Let me show you, Ka’Azalin.”
She displayed the memories that Andrea had collected. Andrea started to see the pattern, the people that each victim had hurt, raped, or killed. These were all the same; people just set in different locations and events.
Andrea started to figure this out. She heard Katalina, “These memories are constructed. Tonight’s lesson is about mental walls and recognition of fabricated memories.”
Andrea did not like where this was going. “Yes, my goddess.”
Katalina directed Andrea on how better to search the mind; she found the blockage. It’s below the artificial memories; the wall’s image is perceived as a thick misty fog.
“Now we learn to break through this. You will have to come up with a way to attack this wall. This will be unique to your perspective.” Katalina projected, “Some think of a weapon that can break the wall, like a hammer.”
Andrea thought she had a mental projection when she feeds. The chain that she uses to work into the mind. Andrea was standing waist-deep in the water, with the serpent coiling around her body. She walked to the shore and looked and could see the thinning ribbon of light that represented her victim. Andrea already had her chains wrapped around the thread that represented his mind. Looking beyond the glowing thread there was a thick gray fog. Thinking of some tool needed to break through this wall, she shaped a chain with a sharp pointed end, which had a spiral tip. Andrea raised her hand and pointed, the chain shot upwards out of the water, moving into the wall of fog.
She sent more and more spiral tipped chains from the river to the wall of fog. She then pulled her hand backward in a yanking fashion. The chains all came tumbling downwards, the mist dissipated.
Andrea sent her awareness deeper into his mind now. What she found shocked her; she could see the day’s events more clearer now. The man she was feeding off was not a man who owed Mr. Morgan money; the man’s uncle refused to pay his debt to Mr. Morgan. He was to be used as ransom until the man’s uncle paid his debts. The man’s uncle still refuses to pay, Mr. Morgan threatened to kill him if he refused to pay the debt. This man had not committed the crimes, murder, rape or any of the other brutal acts. He was brought to this prison to die and send a message to the debtor. Andrea noticed a pale man in the blue suit in the repressed memories, his red eyes staring into the victims. The new images flashed before her eyes; they were the pale man’s own and not the victims! She had realized she been punishing, murdering innocent people. Andrea felt the serpent hissing with delight; this was better than feeding on the sick and twisted.
Andrea pulled out of his mind and slammed her clawed fist against the wall. She felt knots in her stomach form. Andrea’s stomach got upset, and she dry heaved, only a little liquid falling from her mouth. Andrea started breathing harder, letting out a scream of anger and frustration that shook the very ears of the prisoners trapped in their cells. Andrea had taken off her Sirens Silence before starting to feed tonight. She was practicing her fear aura on the prisoners, enhancing their torment before she feeds on them as well. Her whole body became warm, and she began trembling with anger and rage. Her rage poured out through her aura projection, pure hatred. The men in cells fell under the emotional sway of the succubus rage.
Katalina pulled her awareness out. She was going to watch her Hand overcome this new situation. The lessons of life are always hard. One moment you are on top of the world, the next, the world has been pulled out from under you.
Andrea raged around, pulling apart the racks of pain off of the walls. She wailed in her mental agony, she had been punishing these people who did not deserve the torture done to them. Tears began to swell now, the horror of what she had become, once again sank deep into her troubled psyche.
Victor stood up in alarm from his little hiding location. He heard the shout of anger from Andrea. He felt a spasm of hatred, a powerful emotion that was not his, had he had a soul; this would have commanded him to become angry. Then Victor watched as the door guards got mad with each other. The two started yelling and cursing pent up feelings—the words escalating into pushing and then quickly punching. The fighting soon continued to escalate as the guards pulled their weapons and started fighting in earnest. He moved out of his hiding place and into the small barracks across the way; he could hear the same going on inside. The guards inside started yelling and arguing over accusations that they often held in check. The hatred and anger were flowing to the point of violence. Victor could do the same, but only one person at a time. He let his body change; he felt his body dissolve into a fine mist.
Victor moved through the fighting mortals as his gaseous body filtered into the prison through the reinforced door gaps. The gaseous form rolled across the room. Andrea had succumbed to her anger and failed to notice the strange mist swirling across the floor. She was busy breaking the torture racks and punching holes into the nearby stone walls. The prisoners filled with rage; if they were not already locked up, they would be fighting each other as well. Everybody was shouting curses and threats to each other.
Victor had been prepared for such an event; he had already intended to remove this particular threat when the demon went out of control. Mr. Morgan was not his master, just an influential associate who paid him off in blood. This demon had upset this balance, something Victor could not allow.
The mist took his humanoid form behind the raging succubus. He reached inside his coat pocket and pulled out a set of chained silver shackles. He quickly cuffed her flailing hand and connected the other shackle to a set of neighboring bars. Immediately, her eyes stopped flailing, and she cried as her body forcefully retracted all of her demonic appendages. She clutched at the shackle, trying to pull the restraining bracer off.
Victor quickly grabbed her throat and pushed her up against the wall; he could see the fear in her eyes. He extended his fangs, Andrea could feel his cold breath across her neck as his fangs slid slowly down. Andrea felt the fear; she had been doing this to others herself. She had lost her strength or any connection to her powers. The serpent screamed for the blood of this creature in the background of her mind.
Victor spoke in a waspy voice, “I wonder what you taste like? Your scent is foul like burnt vegetation.”
Andrea went to pull Bloodfang from the blade’s sheath from her waist. Victor was quicker; he quickly caught her wrist, disarming her weapon and tossing the enchanted blade to the stone floor. He promptly kicked it across the room away from her reach. Victor then pushed her to her knees with a wicked twisted grin on his face.
“Katalina, help me!” She was hoping the goddess would respond. Nothing, she was alone to face this challenge. Andrea had been told; if it were not related to a god. Katalina was not concerned with mortal affairs. This was Andrea’s problem.
The vampire kept his clawed hand on her throat. He pulled a key from his belt and unlocked the one shackle connected to the cell bar. He dragged her struggling into one of the empty cells and shackled her to the wall.
Andrea’s eye went wide with fear; the memories of being shackled to the altar all came back to her. She struggled again, trying to pull at the locks. She tried to access her magic, the shackled restrained that as well.
“No need, the shackles also prevent the casting of magic. I keep these for those fine folks, like yourself.”
“Nobody knows you are here, even your precious Master Oliver.”
Andrea fears came forth; she was going to be sacrificed again. Not again. she started crying, the tears came forth streaking down her cheeks. Andrea’s fears were evident for all to see, “Not again! No!”
Katalina was not going to help directly; this was not a god. She still had her hero to work with. There would be a little time; Victor enjoys playing with his food. Ka’Azalin, you are not alone; you need your hero.
Oliver was asleep comfortably in his wide bed; his dreams as of late were nightmares. Lately, in these dreams, Andrea was sacrificing him and the rest of his team. This dream was different. In the area being constructed by The Strong Box Trading Rail Road, he was walking the Under Road. He followed a series of side tunnels until he reached a series of rooms. The bodies of humans lay about the entrance. One door was wide open; he entered inside to see a torture chamber. Andrea was chained to one of the torture racks; her eyes were wide and dull. Her skin was pale as if the very blood had been drained.
Mr. Morgans henchmen, Victor, stood panting next to her, “BY THE GODS! THE POWER IN HER BLOOD! THIS IS WHAT IS TO FEED OFF A GOD!”
Oliver heard Andrea’s weak voice, “Not again, somebody save me.” Andrea’s eyes went dull and lifeless. Oliver had seen this before when his victim’s mind retreated into a place of sorrow and desperation.