H C Turk, page 40
1 continued in my quick rate, reliving the sensations of a sinners' community, from broken glass to burnt tobacco to buildings of brick and timber. But no part of this town impressed me toward fondness. Then, after one street in Lucansbludge, I came aware that the most important parts of any community are its people. Elsie and Eric and the two elder women conveying me to Rathel's after Satan through my bottom had murdered. The coachman who lost himself attempting to aid me. But this sort of sinner lived not only in London. Since the kindly family thinking me Germanic were of this community, certainly more of their type were about. But one did not find such folk as though opera performed at a set date: They were met in the process of living with their ilk, which included suffering from their inferiors. To keep my wild living fine, I turned from this populace, intent upon espying at the town's edge as per my planning. Behind me, however, was a force as familiar as flies to feces.
"I would ask you, miss, of your business in my town."
Some sinning male smelling of fried tobacco and rare meat was immediate as I turned to a voice too near to ignore. Though drawn to my aspects, not likely was he following my wool.
"And a fine town you have, sir," I replied to the average, discomforting male. "How wealthy you must be to own an entire township. Be ye also so gracious as to identify yourself to an unmet lady?"
Tipping his hat as though dreading the move, the sinner stated, "I am an associate of the constable's office, miss, and would ask of your business, in that I see you have a bag."
"Sir, are you so determined to begin some professional venture that you verbally accost any prospective customer with luggage?"
"Miss, accosting business is right what I am after," he answered harshly, "for certain youths gone to stealing are those I seek."
Immediately I threw my bag down and opened it.
"Near all my life's possessions are here, and of these I have no hiding. My best velvet dress, my Sunday shoes, a pantaloon God Himself would not ask to see, and my mother's Bible from which I might read you a passage regarding humility." After pulling forth each item, I staffed the lot into the bag again, leaving it open before the male.
What blushing overcame him with the revelation of my under-thing. The crowd as well had a sharp, joint inhalation. Ah, yes, in town but a minute and an accumulation of sinners I had drawn, like flies to so on. At least in this less sophisticated community they remained paces removed so as not to jostle the semi-official male and me, most folks attempting to conceal their gaping, which shamed them. And though they desired to retain their comments, one too many and too loud was emitted, and heard by this constable's affiliate.
"Might she be, I'd ask, of the Lutheran persuasion?"
Like a dog my inquisitor then pricked his ears for better hearing.
"And your business in this town is what, you say, miss?" he asked, pricking his tongue for better speaking.
"I am seeking my aunt who concludes the affairs of my late uncle's estate, a business to bring such tears and torment to me that Auntie insisted I not attend. By the butcher shop I was to wait, though why she selected this site when I am terrified of dogs, I know not."
"Are you Lutherans then to come into Lucansbludge as though to disrupt our town by settling?" he of the constable's office asked.
"Sir, my grandparents have a home well removed, so herein we have no desire to live, and thank you. As for my religion, there is only one God for us all to worship, and He is of Jesus and England. Therefore, sir, in that you find me not so heinous as to be either Lutheran or criminal, may I be allowed to depart your perusal? May I continue in my Christian way and pursue the death of a loved one?"
"About your business then go, miss," he stated firmly, and walked away with no further salutation. Being a lady, however, and prideful in my etiquette, I was not so quick to release him, being also a bit of a fool.
"In final greetings, sir, I thank you for the gracious welcome given me by this town you allege to own, and wish you godspeed on your official concerns as paid for, I hope, not by decent taxpayers, who are civil."
Then I closed my baggage, lifted it, and left, the crowd thereafter dispersing. Behind me, the constable-oriented male watched, but did not follow as I passed the butcher shop, the barber, and vacated his town.
So displeased was I as to lose my design. From distaste would I depart Lucansbludge, thereby returning to Marybelle with insufficient knowledge? But what was our concern with these sinners unable to worship God without worrying of His foreign supporters?
I exited via the same route of my entry, remaining on the trail's surface as though I belonged there. Outside the town, I sensed two male riders who passed only to return and ask with smelly smiles if I required some assistance.
"No English I speak, sinners," I retorted, and waved at their horses with my bag, the animals bucking, though controlled by the men and their reins. These males then continued on their way with no further interest shown me, though they were certain to spur their mounts so that dust was lacked against my face, the devil take their Lutheran souls.
Once calming my ire so that sensibility was revealed on the volatile patina of my personality, I left the trail proper and moved out of vision of travelers. Near dusk, I stopped in a stand of diseased trees whose rotten husks offered a fine hiding site against sinners surely disappreciative of this odor more natural and inoffensive than their own. Confused and displeased, I determined to give my position proper consideration after a renewing sleep, hoping to wake in the morn with a fresh view of my journey. But when I awoke, it was not morning, and I did not wake alone.
That evening I dreamed. Through the water I walked, but no salt was present, the fluid about me so diseased as to be nearly black. My journey was reduced to a few final steps before I would gain the bank and good air. But though opaque beyond seeing, the water transmitted smell; thereby was I aware that on the bank stood a dog, one trained to guard anchor chains by sinners who coated the links with grease. Though harmless to me, the creature was a terror because in London 'I had told the magistrate that I was fearful of the beasts whom in fact I appreciated, what with their long necks and stripes. But because I had lied to another human in the official society of his ownership and then berated him in God's name, my lie had come true in reality, the reality of this dream that was currently my life. So drown or face a fear to make dying preferable were my choices as I took my final step toward the bank.
Then I awoke. Before me was a huge dog wagging his tail as he sniffed loudly in my direction. But not even waking to suddenly see this creature did I fear it. The dog was tied with a strap, the strap held by a man, and here was terror and hatred. The man was of the constable's office in Lucansbludge. And the despised smell of this person was not of sinners, but of a male aroused in his body.
"The heathen is now found by a true man of God," he loudly called down to me. "The Lutheran who tells folk that English is not her language-and is this lie not true? German you are, or is it the devil's tongue you hold in your mouth? But yet in England is no law against Lutherans who worship dissent more than Jesus. So arrest you I cannot, but my duty is to deliver you with God's truth and the laws of
morality through a lesson your kind deserves."
Then the man exposed the source of his hated stench, entering a hand into his pants to step toward me with his baby stick grasped, a Godly part held in Satan's fingers.
Up I leapt to run without confronting this sinner with anger or words. Up I ran, leaving my bag, having finally decided to end my journey by absolutely rejecting the sinners' realm. But only one step I took before the dog bit my ankle. His hold was nearly playful, though, for I was being tripped, not mutilated. Then the man was on me, but he displayed no gentility; his entire weight thrown against my back abolished my breathing. Though I knew by this sinner's grunting that he had harmed himself as well, the male was not so damaged as to discontinue his perversion. My only wish was to continue breathing, for the blow to my torso had ended my lungs' movement, and I felt myself suffocating on nothing. And I prayed God only for my breath to return, my terror so great that I could feel no concern for the foolish sinner who even then was killing himself on me.
Moments later when I breathed again, the dog was lapping my face. Though yet to fear this creature, I was terrified of Satan, for I felt in my loins a pain only the devil could envision. Agony averted my regarding the male's tragedy as he became trapped within me, for I longed to be merely breathless, merely drowning on nothing. So tightly did my baby muscles clench that a vision came of my innards exploding, as though an insect stepped upon and splattered. The sinner's grinding my breasts with both hands like pig meat for sausage passed me unfelt, for bodily pain is naught compared to the torment of an internal demon.
The agony continued along with the male's thrusting until I thrust in return. Such torture I felt that I prayed for both parties to die, but then I felt strength. Desperation was this idea, for God might end my torment if only I aided Him. Here my assistance was not selfish, but moral, for the strength I gained was that of righteous life, which is continued living; so I rejected the future that was not my further agony, but this male person's death. I insisted upon rejecting him, pushing him away while he yet was whole. But not with both hands on his shoulders could I press strongly enough to move the sinner, and my legs were so separated by his torso that I could not arrange my feet to kick at him. But somehow I managed to roll over. The man had quit his thrusting, my vagina locked on him in an agony to kill my senses, kill his, kill him, managed to roll over to sit on the male and press with both hands against his chest, press with both feet against the Earth using all the effort of my legs, my life, to separate the conjoined, killing persons, press so utterly that I stood, lifting the man's hips with me, moving up and down as he groped with both arms, attempting more poorly than I to depart. I shook myself while standing as though fucking this man, as though a child riding a broomstick, moved up and down attempting to drop him. But the witch succeeded where the woman failed, for having intentionally exerted to the absolute, my body continued beyond desire. My crotch continued as I fell upon the male no longer attempting to extricate himself. Having failed to save him, I was left with torture, and prayed God for the sinner to die. soon so that I might live, convinced that no sort of human could save him, God's will be done, prayed that if this pain were to continue, dear Lord take my life instead of the sinner's. But the only angel receiving prayers on this occasion was the black prince who had me suffer so long that when the sinner and I fell apart, my senses left also. Unconscious I was though deeply aware of a torture passed though permanent in its trauma, my innards feeling like spoilt meat, dead and rotting. When again I awoke to an awareness of agony, the dog was lapping my tormented bottom, the sinner relieved to find himself away from my cunt and with his master, Satan, in Hell.
Again a sinner had brought me revelation, this bloodless male displaying with his passive body the effortless intent of our greatest Lord. No sufficient thinking could I procure to comprehend a man's lax piety heinous enough to make him worthy of so devilish a demise, one provided by the Creator without effort. No lust and self-concern of my own so compiled an immoral mass to condemn me as a continual killer. Only the Deity kills with impunity and implies it exalted plan; and how casual was God's correctness to equate in castigation His sinner and
His witch, unequal people made similar by enhancing the devil's domain.
In the darkness near dawn, I arose with my bag to crawl away, then collapse, having to void my stomach of its most miserable contents, a rushing gush so painful that my very internals seemed rejected. Then away from this mess I rolled, moments later able to stand, but soon I was followed by a beast. First the dog ran to me and barked in no threatening manner, then returned to my stomach's contents to smell there a moment and then consume, eating some portion of my vomit as though my previous meal were not all digested. Away from him I moved as rapidly as my weakness allowed, but the dog followed in a most dedicated manner, his eating done and the play commencing. Since I ignored him, the dog made himself better known by leaping against me, disrupting my walking. I then made to gain his leash and tie him anywhere. But this he understood, running away with a wagging tail as I stepped toward him, the dog believing that I was playing. So I chased him as best I could with body bruised enough to be blackened, chased the dog that leapt and barked and would not allow me to near him nor allow me to leave, for it ran before me and blocked my path. When I turned away, it ran from behind to jump against my legs, knocking me down. When I stood to begin running, this proved to the dog that I was playing in return, the creature demonstrating himself better at this game by running faster than I to trip me or throw me to the ground again.
This contest continued until I could no longer run, could no longer walk, collapsing in the grass to make senseless noises as though mad, grunts of exasperation to a God Who had deserted me. Then He returned in the form of a dog who approached to lick my face. With the first kiss, I grasped his leg; and though the dog yelped and bit me bloody, I held him firmly, feeling anger enough to pull his leg off if need be; but there was the leash, and then in my hand. As I stood with a firm grip on the strap, I was prepared to drag the dog with all my force to the nearest site for tying. But as soon as I jerked his leash, the creature followed; and I walked away with him, leaving the open ground for the nearest tree. What a sight this would have been, the witch with a face seemingly grieved over a dog with wagging tail whom she followed to his dead master.
The man had moved. After ravaging me, the male had taken his reduced form and walked away; and I imagined him stumbling off in shock as his blood leaked out, collapsing only to die. Perhaps I had passed him unnoticed as I stumbled away myself, for he was between me and the stand of trees. Somehow he had managed to secure his pants about his hips again, so I had no view of his damage in moonlight adequate to reveal a horror. And I knew him dead from his stillness, not through smelling; for there is no smell of death in a living world, since death is a removal.
I tied the dog to the dead man's ankle. I tied him to his owner with no concern for the man's lost life nor the dog's potential starvation. After all, if no one found him, he could always eat the man, unless this dog had been trained by a butcher. I tied the dog and stumbled away, to my bag and then toward home, the secured dog yapping after me both happy and sad.
This walking was difficult, in that my body below the waist was a sack of raw parts rubbing together. But I removed myself far from the scene, lest the dog loose himself and follow. Then I forgot how to plan, to think, to feel. When next I was able to consider myself, I was awakening in a new day, and behind me was a broad creek I had crossed, not recalling my sense in so hiding my odor. Wet the witch was on one side where she lay against the ground, yet dry where exposed to God's sun or perhaps Satan's breath at her back, which surely followed her through life.
To the stream I returned and drank, smelling and viewing around me as I moved, sensing no other persons nearby, no barking dogs. With no thought in any sinning or witch's world except returning home, I grasped my bag and walked. Then I halted, for I was lost. One glimpse to the sky, and the sun told me my direction, that I would have to cross this stream again, and soon, for its path was divergent to mine; and any unneeded distance traversed might allow sinners to gain me if they were out with humorous, uningratiating canines.
After fording the shallow creek, much walking brought me to the same trail to Lucansbludge I had first followed. This trail I was best to cross, for my original course to it was too roundabout. But now I sensed a farmhouse ahead, and though I saw no populace, drawing near would surely draw the sinners near me. Being eager for rapidity, I crossed a field with insufficient trees to conceal me, another contest lost, for a sound behind of feet revealed a sinner running toward me pell mell.
The girl of the wagon. My immediate thought was to crush her head with my bag and be away, but this was foolish fear, not intent, and gone only to be replaced with dejection. If I ran from her, I would thereby reveal the exact path I traveled. As she neared, however, I sensed no intent to capture in her manner; for she seemed frightened enough to be running away from a horror, not toward one.
"Miss! Miss!" she called out while yet moving. "Oh, if only you could hear English talking!" Then she halted nearby, panting, looking toward me as though I required salvation.
"A little I know your speaking," I told her, and the girl was encouraged to continue.
"Oh, praise God, I saw you here and had to tell you what we have learned of terrors nearby."
"Terrors? What terrors these?" I responded.
"Demons, miss!" she hissed, looking about as though one might hear. "Demons in women or pure witches are about, and one has killed a town man."
"Kill?" I replied, truly distressed by that idea. "Someone is killed?"
"Yes, a man killed dead nearby-and Satan in human form they say the cause. Townfolk are out now with dogs looking for the evil folk, but if the demon finds you first ... I saw you, miss, and began fearing for ye!"
"No more land a girl ..." I said, thanking the sinner for her concern.
"Oh, miss, you must go home, or perhaps returning to my farm until the demons are driven off. Heretofore
one is captured, but if others be about. . ."
Some entity of superior strength struck me with a blow of certain knowledge enough to stop my heart a beat, yet I had to ask the girl explicidy.
"One captured? You tell me."
"Oh, miss," she began, leaning near and glimpsing about as though not to spill her demonology too far. "Oh, miss, I have not seen her, but talk is of a most ugly creature, one like a bent woman, and with a woman's clothes, but it is a demon inside her that makes her look so."
Then the girl stepped away from me, looking to my face in confusion because of my odd response.
