Caryatid Rising (unfinished manuscript)

A lone figure emerged from the neglected fringes of the tattered colony habitat; stealing across an ancient debris field, moving from dim to shadow, navigating a beaten path between blast torn ceresteel and the native thorn brush, witnessed only by the slanted glare of the planet’s star above, Sipo’s Eye. Obscured by the ceaseless dust blows, constant in the valley where the habitat lay, movements deviating between reckless catastrophe and fearless blindness, her faded gray garb blended into the harsh, gray environment. Through the limited view afforded her by the covering hood of her BAD helmet, the girl marked the path that would lead her to the women’s quickening huts. The steps that carried her forward matched time to the litany of the planet as it echoed through her mind.

We are the Few

We are the Righteous

We are the Children of Sipo

Nerves frayed, skin clammy under the heavy cloak of holy female garb, she pushed herself forward towards the ugly, little hovels. In times past, such subterfuge would have been impossible, clerical guards would have been posted along the route to ensure the bleeding vessels remained separated and didn’t attempt to sneak back to taint the habitat with the sinfulness of their unclean time. Her feet followed a track worn by numberless females winding their way from their home pods within the habitat past blast warped slabs of the same ceresteel of the colony settlement.

We are the Few

We are the Righteous

We are the Children of Sipo

Her thoughts strayed from the holy words to Mary, her sister by her father’s under wife. They had been raised together and were close as true sisters could be, Cary was there when Mary had blossomed and she had been immediately banished to the quickening huts, the taint of her uncleanness sent away from the habitat. When the time of blood had passed, Mary would be made ready for her Purity Ceremony, where she would be inspected and blessed by Lord Torquemada himself and declared fit to become a good colony wife. A vessel pure for breeding strong children for the habitat, and for Sipo.

That Cary’s mother and her sisterwife had left her alone in the femden at the family pod while they had gone to Temple together could only mean one thing - the time for Mary’s Purity Ceremony was near. Cary longed to see her, to let her know that she wouldn’t abandon her because of her change into womanhood. If anything, they would be closer as Mary had been betrothed to Cary’s older brother Roya from birth, now they would be real sisters! She allowed herself a small dream of helping to raise up her kin with Mary and Roya, that is, until she herself blossomed and was betrothed. Cary didn’t want to think about that now. Before anything more could happen, Cary felt a strange need to make sure dear Mary was safe. That she was joyfully abiding her penance in peace now that she was finally a real female.

Cary couldn’t remember the last time she was left alone in the femden, Mother had instructed her to use this as time of prayer and reflection, but with thoughts of Mary intruding on her invocations, she couldn’t help but think Holy Sipo was giving her the courage to go and lend support to her beloved friend before her ceremony. With Him allowing intrusions of Mary into her mind while she should have been in prayer, she felt He had been speaking to her, encouraging her to insure Mary’s well being. Squinting through the visor, she saw she was almost to the huts, from her vantage point she could see the mountains surrounding Sipo’s valley, the habitat laying in it’s center surrounded by rubble, the large road to the waterfall off which the algae beds lay, the path to the quickening huts, and another leading from the habitat to the Pyres. Cary didn’t want to think about the pyres, or if she could be spotted and recognized by the men tending to the algae vats, she was alone, outside, for one purpose, to ensure her sister’s well being. Feeling her passage had the blessing of Holy Sipo, she hurried along, BAD boots kicking up dust against the wind as she struggled to increase her pace.

We are the Few

We are the Righteous

We are the Children of Sipo

At last Cary arrived at the place she had not visited since accompanying her mother when she was just a useless baby girl. Turning back along the path she had just trekked she saw no one following. A shiver ran down her spine at the emptiness, always at the habitat she was among others; she shared a bed with Mary, spent most of her time in the femden with Mother and her sisterwife, or in the pod’s room of Prayer and Instruction where she worshiped with her clan, and all the Habitat’s attendance was required at the Temple for the Call to Prayer. Here, on this path, she was alone.

We are the Few

We are the Righteous

We are the Children of Sipo

From where she stood, the habitat looked nothing more than a solitary gray blot laying in a far depression not unlike the hollow where the Quickening huts lay. the huts were as she remembered, a valley within the valley filled with rough lean-tos parsed together from twisted ceresteel provided some small, mean shelter. It seemed smaller, somehow, darker, since she had last been. Sipo’s blessing, it seemed emptier as well. Wandering, she came at last to an occupied hut, yet she hesitated outside the refuge, doubts were beginning to trouble her mind. Should she enter? Would Mary even be inside, and what if she wasn’t alone? Would there be time for her to talk to Mary before the others came for the ceremony? Would she be able to get back to the family pod unseen, before the family? Fear rising, she held her breath, thoughts racing. Having come this far she reasoned, Holy Sipo would surely punish her if she failed to check on the well being of her dear sister, yet she couldn’t forget the swift and terrible punishment she would face if she was caught outside without a male minder to protect her. Fear froze her into place. As she hesitated, the rough cloth that hung before the quickening hut’s entrance moved and a thin arm grasped Cary and pulled her into it’s dark interior. Stumbling inside, her BAD helmet was snatched from her head and out of the gloom, Mary’s face coalesced into view.

“Are you alone? Did anyone see you? Did you see anyone on your way here?” The words tumbled from Mary’s mouth as she trembled in her friend’s arms.

“Sipo’s Eye be upon you….” Mary’s voice trailed off as she buried her head in Cary’s shoulder.

Comforting Mary allowed Cary time to study the interior of the quickening hut. It seemed much smaller then she recalled, dim light was provided by a single torch and a small brazier lit in the corner, neither of which did little to warm the dwelling. It was a dark, musty space filled with shadows, reeking of old blood and providing little comfort for a vessel now fit to rut.

We are the Few

We are the Righteous

We are the Children of Sipo

…..and this, too, will pass

‘This too will pass,’ the quiet female phrase sometimes whispered at the end of the proverb, hushed tones between Mothers and daughters and sister wives and friends, a small balm of comfort between them, learned through the blood and the pain.

This too, shall pass

Cary cast these unworthy thoughts aside with her growing unease.

“Sipo’s eye be upon you, sister! How could I not come, dearest one? The Great God Sipo himself commanded me to seek you and provide comfort, to rejoice with you that soon you will be a beautiful bride” Mary’s forlorn countenance spoke more to Cary than her next breathless words could.

“I’m scared, Cary, scared of everything that’s happening, how my own body betrays me, how my Mother looks at me now, like I’m a stranger, some kind of ugly demon! Why, Cary? Why?! I did not ask for this, I never wanted this!”

As Mary grew more agitated, her headscarf fell to her shoulders, revealing her now clean shaven head. Seeing Cary looking at her, Mary self consciously ran her hand over her bare scalp.

“To symbolize the shedding of my girlhood,’ she muttered, raising the cloth to drape over her bald head. Hoping to soothe her friend, Cary again pulled her close, patted her face and held her eyes with her own.

“The righteous and holy god Sipo sees your purity and knows your heart to be true to his teachings. I always know you to be the better of us, Mary, and I am so happy for you, dear sister.”

Mary’s breath hitched as she muttered, “Oh, Cary, blossom is horrible! I thought I was dying, all the blood everywhere and I could not tell where it was coming from! And my belly, how it aches! Now the blood is gone, but Mother told me I must stay here and my fast continues. And this pain inside of me, it will not ease.”

“That’s just excitement,” said Cary, hoping to calm her. “Soon you will undergo the purification ceremony and get to be a worthy, submissive bride to a good, colony husband strong in faith.

“You know females must be spiritually prepared by the Purity Ritual before marriage.” To Cary’s dismay, instead of steadying Mary, she saw tears now welling in her friend’s eyes.

“But I am weak and fear my soul is lacking. Surely I will fail the ceremony” said Mary.

“My ritual time must be coming soon,” Mary said. “Mother came here as Sipo’s Eye stood high above in the sky. She was with some Aunties, and some Priestesses. They took me out far beyond the end of the huts to a stand of jaggroot bushes - they called it the Vessel’s Grove - and commanded me to disrobe and present myself to Sipo’s Eye. Then they bade me to harvest a handful of the sharpest thorns from the nearby brush for use in the ritual.”

Cary wondered at this oddity. Outside? With Priestesses but no clerics to guard them? Then to have Mary submit to some sort of naked inspection? Females were only permitted outside the habitat to venture to the quickening huts and back after their time of blood, and never without wearing a BAD suit for protection.

“You and the other females were outside the habitat? Alone? With no men to protect you?” Cary asked. Disturbed by the freakish happening, she thoughtlessly blundered on.

“What did you see? Could you see all the way to the Hells on either side of our valley?” Her own ideas of the event were interrupted as Mary continued.

“The wind nearly froze me, but I daren’t shiver in front of the brood! I was scared, as Holy Sipo’s great Eye fell upon me, there was no retreat! They all poked and prodded me, squeezing my shameful part, clucking their tongues, clicking their finger zills at me. Finally a priestess pressed a small blade into my hand, spun me around and ordered me to find the sharpest and strongest thorns from the surrounding brush. I was unsure what to do, but I prayed and with Sipo’s direction, I found good thorns quickly. With his divine guidance, I felt the peace and rightness of my actions while I was collecting, but as I was cutting the last one, something came over me, a wind seemed to blow up around me and into my soul and I got scared again. I could sense some other thing was out there with us, watching us. Something not of Sipo. Some wrongness…” Her voice trailed off.

“Maybe a devil….I don’t know.”

“The Holy Men teach us that only the righteous can inhabit this world,” assured Cary, still hoping to set her friend’s mind at rest.

“It probably felt strange because it was only the Priestesses there with you without Holy Clerics, that’s all. You know they would never allow any harm to befall you, females beget new followers for Sipo.”

“No it wasn’t just them, I tell you,” Mary insisted.

“Then surely it was only the weight of the Eye of Sipo that you felt,” Cary said. “He made us this world as our testing ground. We, this valley, the habitat, are all that was or ever is, Sipo be praised.” That there was no answering ‘Sipo be praised’ from Mary disturbed Cary more than anything she had experienced so far.

“The Holy Men teach us that only righteous folk inhabit this world,” assured Cary, still hoping to set her friend’s mind to ease.

“It was probably just because the Priestesses were there without a cleric, that’s all. None would ever let any harm befall you, we are necessary to provide new followers and….”

“No, Cary, it was something else,” she insisted. “Something evil, something wrong, something not of Sipo. I felt it out there with us, stalking us, hidden in the dust blows, I knew we weren’t alone. I….I know this will sound crazy, but I swear I did catch a glimpse of something watching me, staring at me with eyes of green hate when I was alone in the brush! I hurried and finished and ran back to the females! Mother gave me back my BAD suit while a Priestess took my thorns in what she said was a sacred cloth. Then they led me back here.”

“I’m sure they would have seen something out there, following you!” said Cary.

Both girls knew none of the other females would have heard anything under their BAD suit headgear, between the chanting of their voices and the ringing of their zills - standard issue for the gloves of the Priestess’s own BAD suit gloves.

“After we came back here and prayed, they bade me to strip again and then the Priestesses wiped me all over with holy water they had brought with them from the Temple and wrapped me in this Temple robe. She paused, her breath hitched as she spat out her next words.

They begged me to pray on Sipo and to prepare myself,” Mary continued. “I believe my ceremony is going to begin soon.”

Her voice hesitant, she asked “Will you stay here for me? I am so afraid, only I know I could be strong enough to face Sipo’s judgement If I knew you were nearby. I know I shouldn’t ask this of you, dear sister, it’s just that I am so scared after catching those eyes watching me out there…..” her voice trailed off, she knew what she was asking of Cary. She took a breath and continued.

“I would not wish to taint your eyes by viewing the rite, so I will hide you and I beg you, sister friend, not to watch, as I would not want the weight of this, my shame, upon your soul. Yet my weakness begs that you stay nearby and I will take great comfort from that, knowing through your prayers I will be granted strength. I have no right to ask this of you, to have you risk eternal damnation, but as weak and so very, very afraid.

Cary rushed to hug her friend, to give her some small assurance, as she could feel Mary shivering in her arms.

“Mary, I told you, our great god Sipo would not allow me to concentrate on my prayers, on my worship of Him! He kept sending thoughts of you into my mind. That’s why I am here for you, dear one. I believe he wants me here to lend you strength, so I will remain. Know that I will be here for you, praying for you.”

“Thanks be to Sipo” Mary whispered in reply.

“Thanks be to Sipo,” Cary echoed.

Nodding in agreement with no need for further words, the two girls break apart to begin shifting sheets of discarded plasteel, rank cloth and other detritus together in the darkest corner of the quickening hut. Working together in the chill air of the hut, they quickly managed to form a hiding niche far enough from Mary’s bed space not to be noticed, yet Cary knew, once hidden, she couldn’t make the slightest movement or the smallest of sounds without giving herself away. She would need to be still, still as the rocks outside the door and as silent. Satisfied with their work, Cary crouched down to make herself as small as possible as Mary covered her with an old blooded mat and more sticking, filthy rags. Ill concealment to be sure, Sipo willing it was enough as the girls were risking their very lives to it.

Cary wiggled her way deeper into the stinking detrimis, making herself as small as possible, curling into a tight little ball as doubts began to cloud her mind. How long could she stay here before someone discovered her missing? The air surrounding her began to sour, the pungent scent of women’s wastes lodged in the back of her throat. Cary squirmed, turning just enough to get a bit of air while still keeping her face in shadow. Long, slow breaths, she told herself. Calm yourself.

We are the Few

We are the Righteous

We are the Children of Sipo

Dear Sipo, Cary thought to herself, what have I done by coming here? Her heart was filled with fear, yes, but love for her dear friend overruled sense. Guilt, too, for running off, and, if she was honest with herself, she was a little jealous of Mary. Cary always thought she would be the first of the pair to flower, to marry, but it seemed Sipo deemed Mary the purer of the pair, and granted her to be blessed with blossom first. Mary would have a strong, righteous colony husband before her, and would become a vessel for many children before herself. That was their function as females, and Mary would be first. The Purity Ritual was something all girls went through, how bad could it be? Some prayers, probably another inspection, Mary is pure, she’d be fine. From her hiding place, she could watch Mary, see as her head, bent in prayer, suddenly shot up.

“They’re coming”

Cary could now too hear the distant clanging of zills alerting them that Priestesses were nearby. In no short time, the noise was within the chamber, some peeling like the Temple bells, others only offering a dead clanging, the discord ringing Cary’s ears and piercing her heart. She had never heard so many, nor so loud! Until now, the music of zills was only for Temple, tapping time to a Priest’s holy steps, or rang out at the Recycling Rites to bid farewell to loved ones. Every Priestess carried a set for each hand, while some few sets were passed down from mothers to daughters. So many had to be within the little hut to make such a racket! That the cacophony was so loud attested to the many females involved in the rite.

Daring to peak, Cary saw there were more than just Priestesses within the hut, others adorned in common Habitat garb also girated within the mix. Cary had never seen so many females together without a guardian, Priest or husband nearby; Cary felt their feminine energy growing, their heat and sweat and noise swelling, filling the hut. She had always thought the zills had sounded like the bells of angels, now the number and noise ran a jagged tune along her nerves as their stomping footsteps seemed to beat through the ground up into her stomach.

“Worthless flesh to holy vessel, Sipo be praised!

Worthless flesh to holy vessel, Sipo be praised!

Worthless flesh to holy vessel, Sipo be praised!”

Daring a glance, Cary watched as they flitted around Mary, caressing her, pinching her budding breasts.

“Ready for sucking, Sipo be praised!” Slapping her buttocks and thighs.

“Ready for mounting, Sipo be praised!” Punching her back.

“Ready for female’s work, Sipo be praised!” One of the brood hitched Mary’s robe up to slap her knees.

“You’ll need more calluses there, vessel! Much work for females is done on our knees. Sipo be praised!”

“Sipo be praised! Sipo be praised! Sipo be praised!” they squacked.

The chanted words, the stamping feet, the slapping, the clang of the zills all grew louder reaching a crescendo until Mary finally lost her step from the center of the circle and tumbled to the dirt floor, which froze the mod to abrupt silence. Yet before Mary could recover and rise, one of the females ran to her, dragging her back to the circle, forcing her to kneel in it’s center. Holding Mary in place, she called out.

“Here! Here is my offering to the Great God Sipo, the vessel he has blessed me with through the blood and the pain! To Sipo I pledge her!”

“Sipo be praised! The blood and the pain” the others answered, zills ringing.

“Sipo now blesses her to suffer with the blood and the pain!”

“Sipo be praised! The blood and the pain!”

“She has been presented to His Great Eye”

“Sipo be praised! The blood and the pain!”

“She has collected His Sacred Thorns!”

“Sipo be praised! The blood and the pain!”

“Blessed is she with the blood and the pain!”

We Repent our sinfulness with the blood and the pain!” the priestesses answered.

A selfish sense of relief washed over Cary as she realized any small noise she may make would be covered by their holy racket, Sipo be praised! Soon this will be done, and she could get back to the pod, and prayers…if she didn’t get herself caught - but that did not bear thinking about.

Calm down! Silence yourself! She shifted her position so she could get a better peek at the females as they crowded around Mary, who looked so small, on her knees in the center of it all. Sipo be praised, if this was all there was to the ceremony Mary had nothing to fear, as Cary knew her to be pure and righteous. Mary will make a fine vessel, Sipo be praised, she had nothing to fear. The Purity Ritual was something all females went through, how bad could it be? There were only females here in the quickening huts, some prayers, an inspection. It should be done soon, then I can get back to the pod. Mary was pure, she would be fine.

A cold wind blew pierced the hut, and the female’s keening was cut by the roar of a Priest.

“SILENCE! You females may say she is pure, but you are unfit to decide! Who among you makes this offering?” but at the Priest’s entrance they had fallen to silence in prostration before such a Holy Man.

“Come on now! Which of you stupid cunts did she fall out of?”

May’s mother crawled forward, groveling, kissing the bottom of the Holy Man’s robes before she dared answer.

“This vessel is a seed of my bearing, Holiness.” a voice squeaked out.

“ I beg you, Holy One, to judge me by placing her to the test of purity in the name of our most holy God, Sipo. Please, we beg Sipo to honor this lowly female with the Test.”

Cary could hear the fear behind her words, but wondered at their content; did Mary’s mother truly believe her own daughter to be unclean? She spoke of her friend as if she was somehow sinful, unworthy….that was not right. Cary knew Mary to be pure in thought and deed, it saddened her to hear her own Mother question her own flesh. A weight of quiet anger bore on Cary to further smother her in her refuge under the debris.

“I am a MAN, a Lord Priest, and only I am fit to judge!” the Lord Priest bellowed.

“Bring the little bitch before me!” With his heavy boots he kicked Mary’s mother away from him, Cary watched as she quickly rolled back to prostrate herself again, while also dragging Mary forward. The pair crawled forward on their hands and knees, as soon as the pair got within his reach, he wrenched Mary to her feet before him. Her mother stayed in the dust before him, the other females still as the stones outside.

Mary was a good girl, very well behaved. She kept her eyes downcast, kept silent. To Cary, she looked very small standing before the High Priest, like one of the dolls they played with as babies, so easily loved, so readily discarded.

Looming over her, he grasped Mary’s jaw, commanding her to open her mouth.

“She has not eaten during her time of blood?”

“No, your Holiness, by my eternal soul, she has not eaten since her time began” her Mother replied.

“And her bleeding has ended?” Yet before she could answer, he continued, his voice becoming more strident, more pointed, as if he were speaking to a child, not a productive vessel.

“Her first blooding must be finished or she will die in the ceremony and you will have to pay for failing her. For Failing the Temple. For failing our great God Sipo!”

Turning from her, his focus now fell to dear, sweet, silent Mary, and he declared “Let the Purity Ceremony begin!”

At his words, the females rose and began to chant ‘the blood and the pain’ as they stripped Mary of her robes and forced her to kneel naked before the Lord Priest. HIs face was a mask of contempt as he roughly grabbed Mary’s chin, pulling her face closer to his own, closer, closer, until their faces were but a breath apart, he thrust a finger into her mouth. He must of found something displeasing as he withdrew his fingers and backhanded Mary with a force so strong she fell free from the arms of the women holding her. No matter this abuse, Mary remained silent as the women fell upon her, stripping her of her vestments, dragging her to lay shameful and naked in front of the Lord Priest. To Mary, he shouted “Filthy hell spawn devils! Hold the dirty slut tight!”

Questions tumbled through Cary’s mind; how could the Lord Priest say such? Why was Mary unclean? Mary said she had been bathed with holy water, the Priest had not even cleansed his hands before touching her.

No sound nor struggle did Mary make as the women grasped her arms and forced her legs apart, she submitted to their will. Cary’s heart pounded inside her chest as she bit her lips to stifle her sobs at her friends’ rough treatment. Please, Holy Sipo, please please please lend my friend the strength to endure this’ Cary silently prayed. As much as she would like to simply close her eyes, Cary could not tear her gaze away.

The Lord Priest knelt between Mary’s legs on a pillow one of the women had placed there. As they held her still she did not struggle. Cary could see her eyes tightly closed, lips mouthing the litany of our world.

We are the Pure

We are the Righteous

We are the followers of Sipo

Cary prayed for Mary to keep her eyes tightly shut, she would not want her to see - may Sipo protect her, she couldn’t see what Cary saw as the Lord pulled a small blade from the sheath he wore on his waist. (produced like black magic?)

His hand paused to finger that secret place between her legs, and still Mary did not struggle. Cary watched as the Priest carved the petals of Mary’s flower away from her maidenhead.

Mary released a high pitched shriek and began to struggle against those holding her down, yet the females did not yield to her exertions or relent, rather they chanted louder to drown out her cries. They had done this before.

“Sipo be praised! The blood and the pain!”

“Blessed is she with the blood and the pain!”

Cary’s throat closed on the gasp she had been holding while her stomach fell down, down out the back of her spine to the center of hell itself. Dear great god Sipo, she silently begged, put an end to this. She pleaded with her god to take her life and soul there, now, if only to release her friend from this torture. The Lord raised the blooded blade again, and again a third time as Mary’s piercing cries echoed through her ears and down her spine. She watched, helpless, as his arm rose and fell and Mary’s legs twitched and the whole world seemed to collapse in upon itself. She heard Mary’s heart wrenching sobs, not drowned out by the rejoicing of the other women celebrating Mary’s passage into womanhood.

Silently Cary begged “No more! Please great merciful god Sipo! No more!” and she believed that her god heard her, for it was at that moment the Lord Priest stopped and licked Mary’s blood from his blade. She saw one sweet drop still decorated his fat, loathsome lip as he stared at nothing, rapturously satisfied in his triumph before re sheathing his blade at his side. Be strong, Mary, she thought to herself, it’s finished now. Praise be to Sipo’s name, it’s done. Briefly she closed her eyes to offer a prayer of thanksgiving. Her prayer of gratitude was premature, for Mary’s testing was not yet finished.s name

She watched as the Lord Priest reawakened from his sordid lurid thoughts and eyes hardened as he addressed Mary’s Mother, thrusting out his hand, demanding, “Give me the locks to preserve her virginity. She is a weak one, and this rite must be completed.”

From her spot on the ground Mary’s mother produced a rag she had been clutching, which a priestess then snatched away to unwrap to place on the floor beside the Lord. Peering at the contents, he said, “At least these are fitting. What I now sew shut shall remain in place until this tramp’s hole is healed. Then perhaps when she shows it to her husband, he can judge her a righteous bride wife. Only he may spread her again in order to receive his holy seed.”

Tears flowed from Mary’s eyes as he stitched her femininity shut with the thorns she, herself, had picked. Cary hoped she would be granted the mercy to pass out, but as the first thorn pierced her tender flesh, Mary’s eyes flew open, searching for Cary as first one thorn was pressed through her flesh than another and another until all were gone from the sacred cloth.

The Lord Priest stood and instructed the women to bind Mary, warning, “Tie her thighs tightly. If you allow her to take big steps, the would will rip open and she will be deemed unworthy and will rightly die.” He then wiped his hands with a cloth offered him, never glancing at what he had left on the ground, and left.

For the first time in her existence, Cary questioned why she had been born a cursed female, when all she longed for was the ability to dismiss this abomination from her mind and simply walk away, like a man. Yet she could not leave, she stayed trapped in a dark hard place and watched as the women, now tender, tied Mary’s legs shut and carried her to her bedroll. She watched as they wet her lips from their flasks, Slowly, the women bled from the room leaving Mary with her Mother who now cradeled her head in her lap, spilling a liquid from a small flask she had tucked away in the folds of her robes into Mary’s parted lips.

Crooning softly, “There now, daughter, the worst is over now, rest now, and later I will bring you something to eat.” But her friend, her sister, stayed quiet. Her mother admonished her, “You should feel happy and rejoice, for you are now of worth to be a wife!” Getting no response, she rose, turned her back to Mary and left the quickening hut, this pen of agony, this pain stall.

Cary stayed silent and hidden, watching as Mary’s eyes lost their focus and closed. She hoped her friend had fell asleep, that that was the cause of her silence, as she too wanted to take her leave of this freakish perversion, but time had stopped for Cary, so she sat unmoving, a shell of stillness, time passed as her focus snapped back to this reality’s horror as she heard Mary stirring, faintly weeping.

Mary grunted with pain as she rolled on her side, anxiously peering into the half light, softly crying out “Cary?”

NO, Cary was not ready for this to be real, could she have not one more small moment of mercy?

“Cary? Cary? Are you still there, beloved friend?”

Yes, Cary softly whispered, yes, I’m still here’ as she struggled out from underneath the trash and rags. She approached her friend but could not touch her for fear that in this harsh moment, touching, either of them would shatter.

Mary groaned and opened her eyes, meeting Cary’s own.

“I’m pure now, Cary. I’m pure” she whispered. Tears ran down her cheeks as Cary saw the innocence and joy had faded from her face to be replaced with an empty husk. Mary stretched out her hand to Cary,

“It’s alright, Cary……please…”

It was that plaintive plea from a soul much loved that broke her.

Cary fled from the quickening hut.