Wages: Chapters Twelve & Thirteen

Chapter Twelve - Breaking Point

Louis was a lot of things. Distraught, confused, scared-- all of these emotions blending together to put the man into an utterly glum state.

In the days following his encounter with the two dragons, he had gone from being calm and collective to a state of near paranoia. No longer was he able to whittle his chess pieces with the skill he had possessed, rather, his hand shook and caused his pawns to become disfigured mutants, his bishop’s crosses to come out misshapen and twisted. Every day, every passing moment made the man wonder if the two were going to come prancing up to him, eager to converse. It worried him, not simply for his own well-being, but for them as well. The thought rattled around in the man’s head as he glanced up at the shotgun that hung loosely from Mike’s shoulder, its black barrel bouncing ominously as the man walked ahead of him.

“Jesus, Mike, is that thing loaded?” Louis asked loudly, being able to bear the thought of being outright decapitated no longer.

Mike stopped, coming to what was normally just a small brook, but was now a rushing torrent after the heavy downpour the day before.

“Yeah, but man, I’ve handled guns since I was jus’ a kid. Ya don’t gotta worry, thing’s on safety anyway.” He took a step back, then hurdled the brook with ease, boots landing on the slick granite riverstone with barely more than a wobble. “Here,” he said, holding his hand out, “hand the rods over”

Louis complied, gently passing the two maple branches that served as crude fishing rods to the man.

“Careful,” Mike cautioned, “the rock’s slip’rey as all fuck.”

Louis nodded, then, following the man’s motion, took a quick step forward and leapt. He landed on the rock beside Mike, but not with nearly as sure of footing as him. Flailing his arms, Louis felt his feet slide and his body begin to fall back, then a firm hand on his shoulder, steadying him.

“Like I said,” Mike repeated, pushing his thick rimmed glasses up and scratching his beard, “the rocks are slippery.”

“Yeah,” Louis muttered, giving a nervous laugh, “Thanks. How the hell didn’t you slip?”

Mike shrugged, stepping up the embankment to firmer ground. “My brother and I used to go fishin’ an’ swimmin’ in the Pecos when we were kids, guess it jus’ comes to ya naturally. By the way, where the ‘ell did Collin go?”

“Said he was goin’ up to pick berries or somethin’.” Louis said distastefully, “Like, what the fuck good will that do?”

“Berries are food, better yet they have vitamins.” Mike replied, continuing to walk in the general direction of the big river.

The two men walked in silence for a few minutes.

"Hey Mike," Louis said after a time, "whaddaya think Collin's game is?"

Again Mike shrugged, but said nothing.

“I mean, ya think he’s really up there picking berries?”

“What are ya gettin’ at?”

“What I’m gettin’ at is that he might be back at camp right now, hidin’ behind a tree with a gun.”

“I don’t think Collin would do something like that.”

“Why?” Louis retorted, “Why shouldn’t you suppose that ‘e’s not? Why should I suppose you ain’t gonna flip that gun off safety an’ kill me, or that I ain’t gonna pull this revolver out and put a bullet in your head?”

“How do I know?” Mike muttered, “I know you ain’t cause you don’t wanna kill anyone again, I seen it in your eyes. You ain’t like Collin, you ain’t a murderer. I ain’t gonna turn ‘round and shoot ya cause I don’t want the money that bad, cause it ain’t for me. Collin ain’t gonna kill us because he don’t kill friends, cause if he did he woulda done it already.”

“Christ, what are you, some kinda psychic or somethin’?”

“No,” said the man, “Jus’ observant.”

The men walked in silence for some time.

“What ‘cha mean the money ain’t for you?” Louis finally grumbled.

“The money’s for my brother.” He murmured after a pause, “My dad’s got that disease-- the one the queers get, guess it ain’t jus’ them anymore. Doctors say he ain’t gonna live, cause none of ‘em do once they get it. They don’t got no cure, and there ain’t ever gonna be no cure, but I honestly don’t care about him. Once he dies, though, my brother ‘ill go to foster. Imma use the money to buy him a plane ticket out here and to pay for his college fees.” Mike kicked a stone casually and watched it tumble down the steep slope, the bottom of which he could see opened up and became the stony bank of the river.

The two men half-walked, half-stumbled down the escarpment, eventually breaking out into the bright sunlight. The river was swollen and gorged on the run-off from the storm. It was remarkable to Louis, who was used to the slow, inanimate Hudson that he had seen on an almost daily basis growing up in New York. This river, a churning, roaring serpent that carved its way through the granite, struck an unknown fear into the man. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it. It was a fear akin to that of when he was but a young child, hearing his mother’s vacuum cleaner roar about like some monster. The vacuum, as he remembered it, was tremendously loud, though he knew now that it was nothing more than a whirr. The river, his mind told him, was nothing more than churning rapids, but there seemed to be something much more sinister behind it.

It’s interesting to think that, many thousands of years prior, two ape-men stood on the banks of the Nile, just upstream of Victoria falls. Digging through the mud for food, one thought that he saw a dead fish float past, and decided he would go after it. His fellow clansman watched as he was pulled away by the water and carried over the falls. The ape-man who stood on the shore stared for some time, then turned and walked back in the direction of the rest of his clan, mind engraining a single thought that told him to always fear the great river. He would return to his cave and tell stories around the fire of how his fishing partner had been taken by the great river spirit, and how they too should fear the river as he did. Now, in the year 1974 after the death of Christ, two men stood upon the bank of a swollen river, one of which feeling a fear that might well had started on the Serengeti two-hundred thousand years ago.

Louis squinted in the bright sunlight, then produced a pair of sunglasses from his breast pocket and placed them on the bridge of his nose casually. Mike, having none, simply pulled the bill of his baseball cap lower. He sat down on a large boulder that barely poked it’s head out of the churning water, the spray of the water bringing a pleasurable cooling sensation in the near intolerable heat, and cast out his line.

Louis remained standing, gazing up at the vast range of mountains that seemed to stretch ad infinitum across the azure sky. The sun had nearly reached its zenith.

“Eh Lou, what the fuck has been eatin’ away at you?” Mike spoke suddenly, nearly having to shout over the river’s loud prattle.

“What?” Louis retorted.

“Somethin’ has gotten to you. You ain’t been actin’ the same lately. What the fuck happened?”

Louis scratched his chin in thought momentarily. Mike was somewhat of a mystery, and whether or not he could trust the man remained so. The worst he can do is tell Collin, and he’ll probably find out soon enough already…

Coming to his decision, he kicked the dirt then looked over at Mike. “I’m gonna tell you something, you might think I’m crazy when I do, but I swear on my mothers grave man, this shit’s real.”

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Chapter Thirteen - Awakening

Sleep upon that wretched night evaded me. As the blackness befell the outside world, I wept and Celsko fell unconscious, head and body resting gently against mine. It seemed out of place, having her peacefully sleep. I’ll confess, often had thoughts crossed me about what it would feel like to lay curled around my friend. Not even from a sexual standpoint, mind you. Yes, though it was something I felt a near ever-present longing for, when I had envisioned the two of us sleeping, I imagined only warmth and love. Love, oh love, how I longed for it. It is love that I had always imagined would bring me pleasure, not simply the ecstasy of a mere climax. I would lay with my beautiful Celsko and hold her close.

Upon this night there were no such pleasures.

Twice Celsko awoke with a scream and a whimper. When I told her everything was okay, that I was there, that I would keep her safe, all she would do was whimper and try to curl herself into the smallest ball possible. It was as if she were asleep yet awake at the same time. It seemed she could neither hear me nor feel my presence in the blackness. Celsko, my dear friend, had left me upon that night, being replaced by a creature not unlike myself, a creature that possessed a broken mind.

Later, she ceased to shake and scream, a much deeper sleep befalling the dragoness. In this peace and silence, though the chaos of this world pervaded me and the blood of my friend stained my scales crimson, a small twinge of (pleasure?) something came to me. Watching my dear Celsko sleep, feeling the soft rise and fall of her breathing-- all of it seemed utterly passionate to me. After a time, the caressing grasp of sleep began to take hold. As it did, a profound thought came to me. No, thought is not the right word to describe this feeling. Urge, perhaps, is a better term.

I brought my head up and planted a gentle kiss on her cheek. The action caused a bizarre warmth to rise up in my chest. It was not the heat of rage that I felt ever so often, rather an electric feeling of pure ecstasy.

I laid my head down and curled tightly around her, only then realizing that my tail was intertwined with hers, and the relief and throes of sleep finally came.

Release.

---

The next morning, the heat of the sun against my back woke me. Celsko remained asleep, her breathing coming is short little pants. Her body now felt exceptionally hot, as if in fever.

Carefully, I pulled my wing back, leaving her frail form in the bright morning light. It was in this bright sunlight on a beautiful spring day that I could truly see what they had done to the beautiful creature. This time I did wretch, though I had nothing in my stomach but bile. A large gash ran from her shoulder down along her flank. Though it had scabbed over for the most part through the night, it’s covering was thin, weeping small droplets of blood and pus with every breath. My eyes traveled down the length of her body, to the now dried stream of blood that ran along the inside of her hind leg. It was here that my gaze remained for an unknown amount of time. Within my chest the hellfire of rage began to swell, only being quelled by the intense sadness that flowed over me like ice water.

I once again placed my wing over her and pulled her close, this time not caring about whether or not her scales touched mine. I suppose I cared not for anything besides my friend. I cared not that I embraced her with intimacy, or that she was a half-breed. She was a friend, my friend. This cruel fucking world could claw and tear at my pathetic existence all it wanted, this institution of torment and torture can destroy every fiber of my being, but I would never let it touch those who I…

Loved?!

I rested my head against hers and sleep returned.

By the time I awoke the sun outside had nearly reached its zenith. I twisted my head around and gave an almost involuntary yawn. It was yet another occurrence that seemed strange and out of place. A yawn is something that one gives on lazy afternoons or when regaling a friend or mate with stories late in the night. A yawn possesses an air of both confidence and contentment, neither of which I held within me.

A small chirp caused my eyes to drop to Celsko. One un-swollen green eye stared up at me.

A quiet moment passed.

“Celsko…” I said quietly, almost a whisper. “I’m s-sorry, I’m so sorry…”

Hot tears bled from me and dripped to the floor, just as my blood had days earlier. Pulling her close to me, I tried to bury my face in her neck and frills, all the while sobbing uncontrollably.

“Shh, shh… Nimbus…” she wheezed, her voice strangely holding firm to the soothing tone it had always possessed. “Nimbus, it’s not your fault, none of it is.”

“Y-yes it is!” I wailed. “I-I-I should’ve known! Should’ve known he would come for you! My fault, my fault!”

For several minutes I sobbed, sobbed until my throat was dry and my tears could no longer drip forth. What a selfish fuck you are, Nimbus! You sob and wail like a fucking whelp under your own accord as your friend, bloodied and raped, comforts you.

Am I not a humbled savage on this day?

I tore myself away from my precious Celsko and laid on the ground in front of her.

“Celsko, I promise, on the wings of Avie I promise that I-- I will get us out of here. I… I’ll take you away, far away where they can never ever hurt you. I’m sorry, Celsko, I’m so sorry.”

She placed a paw on my snout and stroked me gently, the soft pads of her toes leaving my scales tingling. “Nimbus…” she purred, voice cracking as tears began to run down her cheeks. “My beautiful, beautiful Nimbus… What have they done to us?”

---

There was a nudge on the underside of my jaw, and quickly I came out of my drowsy state. Celsko, who had been sleeping soundly for the past hour, nudged me once more, the gave a weak chirp.

I pulled myself to my feet. Surely she didn’t want me to be close to her like that…?

“What is is?” I inquired cautiously, then more fiercely, “Is something wrong?”

“Water.” she rasped. “Can we go to the stream?” Her voice was almost pleading now.

“Of course we can.” I murmured soothingly.

Carefully, I used my neck and tail to help her up. She stood slowly, her entire body shaking, a subtle moan escaping her lips.

“Here, hold still.” I whispered, sliding under her wing and allowing it to drape across my back. “You can use that for support, if anything’s wrong just tell me. I’ll make it right… I’ll make it right, Celsko, I promise.”

Slowly I walked with her out of the cave, stopping momentarily at the entrance to brush the shattered glass aside. Once outside, I looked across the glade to where a stream moved sluggishly along, bordered on either side by large flat rocks and shaded by trees. A small waterfall tumbled down into the pool, and oh, what beauty it possessed, swollen and churning over the rains the previous night.

“See, Cel, the stream-- it-it’s right over there. Not far, not far.”

When we had finally reached it, Celsko fell headlong into the water, sending ripples sailing silently across the pool. Hastily, I followed suit. The cool water brought utterly blissful sensation in the height of the afternoon heat.

The water was no deeper than my belly, and so I laid down and submerged myself. Slowly, I exhaled, then looked over at Celsko. She too was sunk low in the water, her coloration making her body near invisible against the green granite beneath the crystal-clear liquid.

It was beautiful.

Pushing off the bottom, I gently glided through the water towards her.

“Where does it hurt?” I murmured, so close to her that our snouts nearly touched. “You… you cleaned my cut, remember? Kiven-- he hurt me, and-and you made it better. I wish I could take it all away, Celsko, I wish I could take the pain away from you. I can’t, I can’t take it away, Celsko. I would kill myself, I would. Kill myself to take it all away. Show me where it hurts, Cel.”

I sat back on my haunches and brought my paws up to her face, stroking her frills.

“Don’t talk like that, Nimbus.” she whispered, closing her eyes as I touched her. Her voice sounded dead and empty.

“Where does it hurt?” I repeated. “Is it the big cut on your side? Celsko, I’d rip my own belly open and pull out my innards to make that go away, do you know that?” Pausing, I let my eyes drop to the wound. Undoubtedly, it was not the most painful thing that he had put her through, but it was the only wound I felt fit to tend to.

“How about your eye?” I said breathlessly. “Is it hurt bad?”

The dragoness shook her head slowly.

“Just bruised then? Bruised and swollen, that should h-heal in good time.”

She took in a slow breath, then let out a single, pain-filled wail, slowly dying to a bout of sobs.

“Shh, shh…” I soothed, pulling her close, encapsulating her in my wings. I let my head rest atop hers as I embraced her. “I’ll take care of you, Celsko. Friends take care of each other.”

We stayed like that for a moment, the cool water flowing around us. The world at that moment seemed profoundly calm and serene. It was nothing but a hell in disguise. The beautiful backdrop to a tragedy. How could the sun be shining and birds be singing after an innocent creature has been tortured and raped? I am not the savage upon this earth, merely a rift in the vast sea of savages. The world itself is nothing but a predator, preying on those who are weak. And so I held to the only thing I could in this world. Celsko.

Sanity slipped.

“Let me see the cut, Celsko. N-needs to be cleaned.”

Forgetting all inhibitions, I gave an affectionate nibble on her ear. The ring that was ever-present had been torn out, leaving a great gash in the thin membrane.

I brought my head down to the cut, the thick scent of blood filling my nostrils. It was worse than I had thought, so deep that I swore that I could see ribs. Wounds like that don’t just heal up. Wounds like that are the ones that kill. I couldn’t fix it, I knew I couldn’t.

But Louis Bekker could.

~Post Chapter Notes~

I am really disappointing with these chapters. I find the flow to be off, the dialogue to be wooden, and the plot-development to be poor. But whatever, I guess there are people out there who actually like the story.

We learn something about those two wooden characters that have been accompanying Louis, well, one of them at least. We get some more of Nimbus acting crazy and bland, and we get to see the after-effects of dragon-rape. Lovely.