Girl Desecrated 1984: Vampires, Asylums and Highlanders, page 25
“Lower the sheet.” His voice was dead, lifeless.
“Angus…” My lips trembled, and I blinked away the tears to clear my vision. A sob shuddered from my mouth.
His thigh muscles rippled with each step as he walked up to the bed and yanked the sheet from my hands. I screamed as it ripped one of my fingernails to the quick.
I covered my breasts with my arms. “Angus, please.”
He didn’t see me. He didn’t hear me. He turned away to lay the sheet over Lennox’s body, gently covering up his face.
“He’s dead?” My sobs turned to panic.
Angus whipped his head around, his narrowed eyes as dull and empty as clay.
I skittered sideways to get off the bed, but he moved faster, landing on the mattress, his weight bouncing me. He grabbed at me in mid-air. I twisted, landed on my stomach, but before I could scramble away, his hand gripped my ankle like a steel shackle.
I pushed the bed with my other foot, clawing my way off, but Angus yanked me back, so hard, pin pricks of pain radiated along my leg. He flipped me onto my back, gripping my body cruelly to drag me under him. I clawed the mattress to stop myself. Angus had his hands on my waist and then my shoulder and the weight of his thighs were pinning my legs.
I screamed for help and punched at him, striking his head. He tried to catch my hands, but I flailed like a madwoman to keep them out of his reach. To stop me, he dropped his body on top of mine, his weight violently crushing the air from my lungs.
I tried to push him off, but he pushed my hands up by my wrists so they were pinned onto the mattress on either side of my head.
Gasping for air, I lay helpless under his enormous body. His breathing was on par with mine, the wind whistling in his throat, and blowing my hair on the top of my head.
“Rachel!”
I gave another wiggle, trying to get out from under him. He wrapped my legs with his, his thigh muscles like bands of iron.
“Rachel,” he moaned, pressing his forehead against mine.
His heart pounded against my chest. Shivering, despite the warmth of his body weighing me down, my teeth chattered on my sobs.
His voice held an undertone of impatience, when he said my name for the third time.
“Rachel, please. Let me dae whit needs tae be done.”
I bit my lip to hold back the jagged sobs that jerked in my ribs. Angus sought my eyes, so I let him see them. I searched for a sign of the man I had trusted, the man I had been willing to be with, but Angus closed his lids before I could find him.
He brought his face closer and this time his bangs brushed my forehead. I closed my eyes to hide my hurt. He kissed my eyelid gently.
“Aam sae sorry, lass.”
“What… what has to be done?”
But I already knew, for he was rubbing himself against me, and I could feel his flesh growing between my legs.
“No!” The word screamed from my bottomless memories.
A useless word.
A word that stopped no one.
I tried to bring my thighs together but he forced his knee between my legs.
“Shhhhhh,” he whispered, kissing my lips, and I sobbed the word “why” into his mouth.
“Ah wanted tae tell ye. Tae explain.” He kissed my cheek, tenderly. “Ah thought if ye knew, it would be easier.”
I wanted to say, “rape is never easy,” but I slid down into that safe place, inside.
“Look at me,” he ordered.
The She flickered my eyelashes open like lifting a curtain before a performance.
His eyes were glistening with concern.
“Remember when…” He paused and licked his lips. “Remember what Ah said tae ye about destiny? Our destiny?”
The She nodded my head, and I felt her delight in pretending to be me.
“This,” he ran his eyes over my breasts squished by his broad chest. “This is our destiny.”
Hot tears dried in the back of my throat.
“From the time we were born, ye and me’self, we were headed here, tae this moment.”
He believed every word he was saying. Bullshit justification for what he was about to do.
“We have tae dae this.”
I remembered the moment in my apartment when I thought he might be a stalker.
“Please lass, dorn’t make it harder.”
Keeping his sorrowful eyes on mine, he softened his grip on my left wrist. The She let my hand lie limp, but inside she bunched up with tension.
Angus let go completely and slid his hand down my side, his warm palm heating my skin where it cut in at my waist.
I didn’t want his hands on me. Not those hands that had beaten Lennox to death. But I had chosen to leave this scene, and She had chosen to be present.
She slipped my hand down to his. He wrapped his fingers in hers, and then pushed her hand back up along the sheets until he could lean on his forearm again.
She turned my face to the side to hide her amusement, and watched the blood from his split knuckle trickled down to fill the valley between our fingers.
He nuzzled the side of my neck, breathing in my scent. “Ah’ve known about ye all mah life.”
He lifted his head and his eyes were twinkling now, teasing me as he had in the Albion. “Yoo’re more beautiful than Ah had ever hoped.”
The She snickered inside, but I felt her jealousy.
“I need ye, Rachel and ye need me.” He kissed the end of my nose. “We can’t be complete if we are apart.”
Angus was done talking. He kissed me-who-wasn’t-me, and She held still beneath his seeking. His mouth was gentle as he explored my lips that were no longer mine, increasing the intensity of his kiss.
She released a timely moan. I silently cursed her for her betrayal.
Angus, encouraged, pinned both of my hands above my head, and cherished my mouth with all the talent he’d shown before. His other hand slipped between us, exploring her beneath him.
Every touch I had hoped for came true as he gently traced these curves, and expertly enticed the dips of this body. I tried to resist him. I truly did. But my body was no longer mine, alone. I tried to disappear within myself to escape, but my ‘alter’ pushed me up. I tried to fog my mind with submission, but he wasn’t taking, he wasn’t demanding.
He was drawing sensation from me, like a humming bird draws nectar from a flower. He touched me as if he had known me a thousand times, and knew every secret of my body, every desire of my mind. He was practiced at rhythm, pressure, and stroke. I couldn’t resist.
The cold chills that had coursed through my spine were consumed by flames of longing, as still he coaxed. Suddenly, She fell away and it was only me there, beneath his warm skin, arching against his hand.
His lips and tongue secured the surrender of my mouth, and then moved to burn a trail of heat and moisture along my neck. His thick fingers delved deep into my body, turning my surprise into a pleasurable, aching groan…
My soul, which had previously cringed from his fierceness and violence, sold itself to desire, and welcomed him in.
CHAPTER 29: IT IS NOT THE HEART, BUT THE FLOW
~
I was a magnet and Angus was my lodestone.
His draw caused me to flicker with my ‘alter’, changing places with her randomly as we vied to dance with him. When she took over, my awareness would fade out, and when I came back to the moment, I’d find myself wrapped in a new position with Angus’ limbs.
His intoxicating man-scent glided over my senses, as I slid my body up his belly, my eyes locked onto the dock within his collar-bone. His chest hairs tickled my chin, bending like a hundred little fingers egging me on to that pulsating beat on his neck.
I straddled his hips and tested his skin with my tongue, tapping the wet tip against him like a gecko licks at its eyes. And then I opened my mouth wide and latched onto that vibrant throb beneath his jaw.
Angus’ heavy hand slapped the back of my neck, and I thought he would rip me off by the scruff. He was rougher with my ‘alter’, but at my shriek of surprise, his touch became gentle, and he stroked my hair.
“That’s it, Kit.”
He sat up, wrapped his arms around me, pulled me onto his lap. He grabbed my tube top and pulled it up past my breasts. I lifted my arms to let him take it off. Now I was clothed only in my chains and pendants. He rubbed at the marks the tube top had left on my skin.
“Poor lass,” he whispered.
He fisted one hand and ran his knuckles down the center of my bare stomach and my muscles contracted in response. I closed my eyes and gasped, grabbing for his shoulders to steady myself.
A thought of Lennox cooling on the floor tried to invade my thoughts, but my mind clamped down, repressing it.
His eyes dropped to the necklaces tangling on my chest. He clasped my cross in his fingers. The chain draped like a bridge between us as he inspected it closely, rubbing the centre pearl in small circles with his thumb. The way he held it out, tilted to the side, made it look like the X from my tea leaf reading.
The word stop hovered behind my lips, but I didn’t dare say it. I didn’t want to find out he wouldn’t listen.
Angus yanked on the cross, snapping the links painfully against the skin of my neck.
“Hey!” I slapped at him, but he grabbed my wrist, holding it away from his body.
“Be still.”
I obeyed, as he slowly brought the cross to his mouth, closed his eyes and pressed a reverent kiss into it. His low voice spoke some Scottish words I could not understand. Then my cross was flying across the room, the chain hitting the wall with a tinny rattle.
“Hang on tight, Lass.”
He pushed my arm up around his shoulder.
Then his hand slipped between us, and he made me forget… everything. I wrapped my arms around his neck, and he wrapped my hips with his hands and lifted me above him. He lined up our parts, velvet against silk, and drove me down on him, like he was piking me at the castle walls.
I cried out as my skin stretched around his thickness. He seemed not to care. His hands bruised my hips as he pulled me down to meet his bucking hips.
The sound of our skin slapping sharply against the sweat on our bodies was vulgar in a room where Lennox lay dead. We didn’t care. Human decency was washed away by our raw need.
Rising and groaning and grasping, until we could go no higher, we aligned our bodies and paced our rhythm to please only us. We tried to linger in that sweet moment of nothingness, that pause on the edge of infinity. Then, our mingled cry tumbled us into a blinding flash of exquisite pleasure. His member jerked and spat like a cobra into my womb, and from our combined juices there was a birthing, a writhing, an evil uprising.
It was only at that moment, I knew I must save myself.
I tried to twist from him, but he held me in place, while my alternate personality blossomed like a hemorrhage.
Her dark essence crawled like a subterranean creature in the marrow of my bones, spooking my soul into flight. Free will powdered and dusted in the air. Cloying, it clogged our lungs, and still, the echo of our orgasmic cry hung suspended between us.
I jammed my elbows into his clavicle, driving him down onto his back. Crouching on the Highlander’s pelvis like a gargoyle about to ride him to hell, I was consumed by a desire to claw his emeralds from his face.
But an ancient life flashed before my eyes, blinding me.
It was every nightmare I had ever had, playing out in my mind in a horror movie collage, and it all happened in an eternal second. And then it was over, and time congealed back to the present.
I was terrified, cowering within myself as a whipped child cowers in a corner, watching my madness mature into a powerful puppeteer of my body.
A single tear fell from my eye, swinging forward in a sickle arc as if blessing the Highlander’s brow. Shattering the thick air, a scream cut from my throat. My spine arched backwards in a crippling spasm, until my hair dusted the bottoms of my feet.
Like an out of control marionette held my strings, my head lashed forward, burying my face into Angus’ neck. The sharp spurt of his blood hit the roof of my mouth.
That brutal god-like strength that had beaten a man to death could not save his own life, now, for he had no will to fight.
Passively, he gave of himself, never lifting a hand in defence against me.
Sucking and gulping and swallowing like a feral beast, the glory of his crimson warmth made my eyes roll in ecstasy.
CHAPTER 30: LIFE IS A FEEBLE GAMBLE
~
IT MIGHT HAVE BEEN MINUTES, or hours, during which I had shuddered through a thousand orgasmic organ restarts before his pumping liquids slowed. I swallowed the last drop of tin-flavoured blood, and sighed like a sated lover against his rapidly cooling skin.
As I lay upon his chest, dazed with fulfilment. The feeble tapping that was Angus’ heart drummed out a weedy attempt to hold onto his life.
Through my sleepy lids, I spied the silver cross huddled in the corner, glistening with an aura of goodness that could not help me now, for I had tasted the gift of sin, and it was unforgettable.
Light beams streaked in from the window, shot by the sun setting in a cloud of billowing red. The sun dropped below the horizon at the same moment Angus’ heart set in his chest.
He started to seizure.
His quaking torso tried to throw me off.
I held on, enjoying the ride.
Then, he stilled.
And cooled.
And finally, a cold shock of reality jolted me to my senses.
Angus needed an ambulance.
With the return of my reason came the loss of control of my limbs. I commanded my body to move with silent orders. But it ignored me. I tried to lift my head, but my attempt failed as I thrashed only in my mind. I strained to slide off Angus’ body, but it was as if my arms were welded to his skin.
Again and again, I tried to tense and flex, reach and bend. The effort I was putting into moving my body should have ripped a groan from my throat. Instead, my lips curved into a smile that mocked my hopeless efforts.
That’s when I knew I had slipped into that place I had fought to stay out of all my life. Before Angus, I had been in control, and my ‘alter’ had been the “other”. Now she seemed to be the governor of my flesh.
He’s going to die, you bitch. Let me out! I shouted, but the words were only thoughts.
She answered me with my mouth, “Oh fiddle dee dee. Why do you worry your pretty little head, so?”
Her response was light and airy, full of a carelessness that can only belong to someone without a conscience.
She rose to sit on Angus’ bed and stretched my body like a cat.
I experienced her actions as if they were wind in the sails of a ghost ship, just feathery little whispers of the graceful movements she was putting my body through.
My mind grappled with reality as she continued speaking.
“You cannot help him, for if you dial zero on that silly contraption, you will only bring the law down onto your own head,” she drawled into the silent bedroom.
Her words were slow and soft, delivered in a porch swing cadence.
I was so intrigued by the sound of her voice, I could barely concentrate on her meaning.
Pointing my toes, she touched the floor with my foot as if dipping it into a hot bath. Finding it held, she stood and delicately moved aside the bed clothes until she located my jeans. Holding them up for inspection, she looked at the inside-out legs with disdain.
“And then, we will both lose our freedom,” she continued with finality, as she pulled on the jeans. “Is that what you want?”
Freedom? I shook myself out of the numbing shock and tried to understand her point.
She turned, fluid and graceful like a silk scarf in a gentle breeze.
“You have taken this man’s life.” She pointed at Angus, as if we did not share the same eyes. “You will pay for it. They will make you pay.”
I cringed as my mind conjured images of the Guelph Correctional inmates in their orange jumpsuits, raking the leaves away from the community park. She read my thoughts. A tinkling chorus of high-pitched notes chimed from my vocal cords.
“Don’t you worry your little head about him. He served his purpose. We both hold our own survival in high regard, Rachel,” she said. “I will always keep us safe.”
She bent over Angus’ body until my nipples brushed his arm. “My survival is the main reason Mr. McNab, here, needs to live.”
She yanked one of my necklaces from my neck. It was the cupid with the broken wing. Using the sharp edge, she opened up a vein on the inside of my arm. I cried out at the jab, feeling it the same as she did. But she enjoyed the pain, languishing in the fleshy slice with dark pleasure.
As I cursed her from within, she gripped Angus’ jaw, her nails digging into his flesh as she roughly opened his mouth. Then she held my arm over Angus’ lips and fed him my blood.
I watched the glistening drops splatter onto his blue lips and slip like satin teardrops into his mouth. Drop by drop, I watched and doubted whether my blood could ever feed him life.
“Your blood?” she laughed, harsher this time. “Rachel, you are such a ninny.”
Before I could reply with some very un-ninny-like words, a sound floated into the room.
So faint at first, I wasn’t sure if I was hearing a song or a mosquito buzzing near my ear. Then, the sound came closer, became louder. It was thick-tongued chanting.
An Cuan Eirinn o hì
Muir ag èirigh o hò
Suddenly, the spell was broken. The chanting pulled me, Rachel, up into my body, as if the singers had reached down their hands and drawn me from the black depths of the grave. My wicked Other clawed and fought her way through my insides, as she was tramped down.
An Cuan Eirinn o hì
Muir ag èirigh o hò
‘S cha bu lèir dhuinn o hì
Nì fon ghrèin ach na neòil
Her power over me crumpled like rose petals coming apart at the stem, and I landed with a loud thump on the floor.
