THE LAW OF BEASTS BOOK 1

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PART 2: 3 B.C. SWEET RAYSHUS

SWEET ЯŷæšħūŜ (Ray-shus)

Life for Ķleőpĥǻ was simply amazing, going about the Village of Opus with a keen sense of spirituality, only to have it undermined by Chanteuse, a girl in direct competition with her, a girl that never had a thing in her life, or had a thing outside of a meal given to her. But of course Chanteuse kept her agenda hidden, pretending to be friends with Ķleőpĥǻ, only Ķleőpĥǻ didn’t have a clue to her agenda, and that she had set one in motion after meditating in the darkness of the forest.

Ķleőpĥǻ praised Aten, Ђe §un God, loathed Ђe Rain God, and always said a silent prayer to Ђe Moon God. Chanteuse and Ķleőpĥǻ were inseparable. Where ye saw one ye always, most likely, saw the other.

Ђey were never less than fifteen feet away from each other. Σveryone Ķleőpĥǻ spake to adored her, and would do anything for her.

And as she grew into a voluptuous teenager, so did Chanteuse. They were strikingly gorgeous beauties. Ķleőpĥǻ had a hidden, burning sex appeal, so did Chanteuse, only Chanteuse wasn’t so…discreet.

Chanteuse had long, crinkly hair she sometimes washed in the river, only when the men weren’t urinating in it, which was usually around nightfall, while everyone slept, she would wash her hair, breaking the rules of the village, to never leave after hours.

§he never followed the rules, and knew exactly what she wanted. Her sandy red hair was a favorite amongst the villagers, but many couldn’t stand her. Many wives drew their husbands close when she sauntered by; many women often times wanted to scratch her eyes out, but she wasn’t worth the trouble, or the hassle.

Her gorgeous hair glistened under the rays of the sun, and had a ghostly appeal under the moonlight. Hung to the start of her calves. §he had a lively spirit and a whorish soul. Ķleőpĥǻ, in comparison to her best friend, and her sister at heart, was filled with love, vibrancy and promise.

Chanteuse was filled with evil, deceit and hatred, and experienced a rude sexual awakening that changed her life forever. By the age of 18 she bedded over two hundred men of the village. Every affair she kept a secret. Every man she slept with sworn to secrecy.

Ķleőpĥǻ treated her Italian family and Σlders with class and respect. Chanteuse often times sucked her teeth and defied any and every one, without bringing harm on herself.

Chanteuse also treated her parents like goats and herds of cattle. §he disrespected whoever she so chose. Ķleőpĥǻ didn’t like that side of her best friend, but she accepted it.

Ķleőpĥǻ had her dead mother’s eyes, sweet ЯŷæšħūŜ (Ray-shus) and spake with an angelic voice. §he confided in Chanteuse, told her everything to her heart’s content, everything pertaining to her life, even how she felt about the death of her mother. §he was the sister she wished she had, and the sister she never had. Ђere was a blinding love Ķleőpĥǻ had for her friend, and it was building as the days go by, and was built from the ground up since they were the tender age of six years old.

Chanteuse harbored a blinding hate for Ķleőpĥǻ. Ђe girl that hath it all was a bit of a snob to Chanteuse, even though Ķleőpĥǻ wasn’t a snob at all.

Ķleőpĥǻ was the most loving girl in the entire village, loved by exactly everyone.

Σveryone, in contrast, in comparison, in conclusion, hated Chanteuse with a passion, both as a loyal village, and individually. Two types of hatred; but they never shewed it when she came around with Ķleőpĥǻ.

And they never voiced it. Σverything Ķleőpĥǻ was granted were the very things denied to Chanteuse, and all the other kids of the village. Ķleőpĥǻ possessed a special gift of cheer, despite being born into a world through an act of death, her mother ultimately being that sacrifice.

§he hath hardly known a sad day, outside of her mother’s death. That was the source of her pain, and the only thing that saddened her. §he never stopped blaming herself long enough to explore potential possibilities as to why her mother demised so young, so soon, at the tender age of 19.

Chanteuse had a mother, and she flaunted her in front of Ķleőpĥǻ every chance she could get. Ķleőpĥǻ was never jealous. Behind Chanteuse’s back Kleopha grew a rather tight, close bond with Chanteuse’s mother, Mama Resha. Mama Resha was a tall woman with an elongated neck, and filled with knowledge.

§he used to be a Pharoah of Σgypt, a woman of power that has never been documented or revealed to the world, or inside books, because her ultimate sin was too grave and too deep. Golden rings, three inch pure gold metal hoops, used to line the entire length, and width therein, of her slender neck. Her immaculate bone structure was the finest of all the women and all the men of the land. The combined seeds of her mother and father, sister and brother, the most powerful bloodline in African history, all of which the others were built on, has been reduced to heresay and assumption, and urban legend.

One summer day, before seasons shaped the earth through bloodshed and social control through Pharoahs and images of gods with animal heads, such as Horus, and the §phinx, Resha was cooking over a small, controlled fire, the flames cackling deep within the wood of a redwood tree over yonder, out back, behind the hut on the left, where she performed secret rituals on her own, and alone, while the people of the village slept, other secrets looming throughout, on a cloud of suspicions and lies.

Mama Resha got involved in a little spat between Ķleőpĥǻ and Chanteuse. Chanteuse had a crush on a boy and Ķleőpĥǻ was already interested in him, but too shy to approach him and speak, because of fear of embarrassment.

“I had my eyes on him first!” Chanteuse screamed, getting in Ķleőpĥǻ’s face.

Terrified, because she hath never known peril, outside of her mother’s death, and eventually her father’s death, she ran behind Mama Resha. Angrily, Mama Resha slapped Chanteuse across the face, both of the 12 year olds staring each other down. One of the girls stared with contempt, and the other girl stared with adoration for her sister, but was in fear of fighting over a stupid boy. §he can have her, Kleopha concluded.

Σmbarrassed, Chanteuse held the side of her face, the right side, narrowing her eyes with evil cunning.

“Ye slap me in front of her?” Chanteuse scolded unfairly, hitting below the belt, and attacking her friend where it hurts. “Ђe girl that killed her own mother?”

Mama Resha was appalled. §he smacked her again. “Watch thy mouth young child! How dare ye throw life’s promises in her face! §urely ye will die as well. I speak it on thy life right this instant!”

“Take it back!” Chanteuse said, frowning, glaring at Ķleőpĥǻ.

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