Feeling the Way, CH 27 (Patreon)

I came awake to more than the memory of pain. The back of my head hurt, my back was sore. I was crumpled at the bottom of an uneven cavern wall. The first thing I saw on opening my eyes was the giant stone dildo that was the cause of the pain in my mind.

Flash of claws in the darkness, tearing at my core. At my very essence. Beings violating me in ways that couldn’t be done to a physical body. Watching the few hopes I had come undone at my own, twisted, hand.

Then, being pulled out. The sense of outrage at what was being done to me, to His follower. I felt a comfortable embrace for nowhere near long enough, then this reality.

My first attempt at speaking was a groan, not one of my best one either.

“Don’t touch that,” I finally managed.

“He’s whole,” Fiona said.

“That isn’t good,” Jeb answered.

I looked up at them, kneeling before me, and I closed my eyes as I sighed. “You have got to be fucking kidding me.” She was touching my hand when she pressed it to the stone. With magic, that counts as contact unless precautions are taken. Jeb wasn’t touching me, but what brother wouldn’t come to his siblings help if she cried out in pain the way my throat felt like I did.

Okay, what brother, other than mine, wouldn’t do that.

That would be contact right there.

When they said whole, they meant I was still myself.

They weren’t anymore.

One of the things imprisoned escaped through them. The only reason I didn’t join them was that I’m owned by someone with stronger claims, and an unwillingness to share me with some other god’s creation.

Some other god’s follower’s creations.

“Give me a minute here,” I said, as they shifted. “I’m still processing.”

“Very well,” Jeb said.

I focused on the memory of that touch, that embrace.

Unlike Eddy and the other from the Society, my family doesn’t have rituals where He claims us and we, in turn, claim Him. Eddy tried to describe it to me, once. The deepness of that connection as he had sex with Him. The momentary understanding that we were truly not alone, that we were cared for so profoundly that it wouldn’t end when we died. I didn’t argue with him; I envied him.

I felt tears fall.

“Is he broken?” Fiona asked.

“I don’t know,” Jeb answered. “He seems more resilient.”

“Someone helped him,” she said, displeased. “Maybe we should leave him be.”

I wiped at my eyes and looked up. Their eyes were fixed on me. What should be white was black. What should be colored is bright red, and the pupils were white. It was very disconcerting.

“You’re very considerate,” I told Jeb. “Thank you.”

The smile he responded with stretched the donkey’s lips so far they should rip off. The teeth they exposed were in the process of sharpening. “You are welcome. It isn’t because I will disembowel you that I can’t give you the time to come to terms with it.”

“Is the question what are you, or who are you?” I asked.

“Aren’t they the same thing?” The donkey tilted his head, and the skin ripped, exposing spines. “Or has the world moved so far from its origin it has forgotten how it works?”

“Names have power,” I said. “I had someone go off on a rant on me just a few days ago.”

“Hence—”

“But when enough people know that,” I cut him off. “They come up with ways around it. We’re clever that way. So I can tell you my name’s Wyatt. I can even tell you my Name’s Wyatt Orr and that isn’t going to do you any good.”

“Really?” Fiona said, grinning that muzzle distorting smile of theirs. On her, the spines around her neck were pushing through the skin and fur even as she didn’t move. “Then Wyatt Orr, rip out your throat for me.”

“No, thanks.” I smiled at her surprise. “Even in my family, and no matter what some will tell you, we are not the smartest ones out there. We understand what a name can mean. Honestly, I think everyone to deals in magic gets it at least on a subconscious level. Otherwise, when I told you my name, I’d have conveyed the sense of what it means at the same time, instead of just the sound of it. We all do that. So it’s got to mean something and looking at you two. I’m thinking we came up with it as a survival mechanism.”

“That is interesting,” Jeb said. “I don’t remember my prey ever being the eloquent.”

“Times change. So, is it what or who?”

“We are the creatures of the deep,” Fiona said, her voice taking on a raw edge to it that made me think something was happening to her throat. “The things that came before the light, we fought the maker of the world to stay and feed on its creation. We—”

“No, you’re not.”

Her eyes grew so wide in surprise it reached cartoon level. Only eyes weren’t meant to do that, so ruptures appeared and clear fluids seep out.

“You would question us?” Jeb asked, more curious than offended.

“There are no monsters that came before. I’m not going to claim to know if the gods created the world, or the world created the gods, but there are no bogeymen, no slenderman, no monsters, unless a follower created them. You, are someone’s creation. Unless you are that someone, twisted by the power you were privileged to have. That’s also happened a few times.”

Jeb leaned forward, far too close to my liking, and because of that it took a second to realize it was only his head that moved. I hoped there was nothing left of Jeb and Fiona in there, because if there was. They are going to have horrible hospital bills by the time this was over.

“You seem very sure of yourself.”

“There’s this thing called the internet. If you go back in that, I’ll show it to you. It’s filled with lies and half truth people tell each other to seem smarter or because they can’t stand who they are. But us, magic folk? We’ve been using it to talk, compare notes. Over the last twenty years or so only a handful of factions haven’t taken part, and it is amazing what you’ll discover when you work together. So yes, I am sure of myself. Because people way smarter than me did the work and shared the result. So I’m going to ask again. Is it a what or a who?”

“What does it matter to you? Are you one of those who needs to know who eats them?”

I shook my head, and it didn’t ring, so I’d stalled long enough. “As much as I don’t like fighting. I do like to know who’s ass I’m going to be kicking.” I was fast enough he didn’t react in time. Strong enough the punch sent his head to the side, stretching the neck even more and exposing more spines. I was up with a knee in Fiona’s face, then running, slowing only long enough to pickup the gun she dropped when she got a new tenant.

I checked the cartridge, seven bullets left out of fifteen. Large caliber, at least .44. That could do a lot of damage against most people, but I doubted it’d do me any good against those two without some help. I reached inside my jacket and cut myself on the metal shards of the pen I kept there.

Did the power surge, as something tried to take me over, do it? Some reaction to the power they came from causing the cum it held to explode? The only god I know we had some adverse reaction no longer exist, and that was mainly hatred, not combustion. No telling what Damian will cause, but I didn’t get much of a ‘sacrifice’ vibe from these two, so I don’t think I had to worry about him inheriting them.

First order of business, my phone and calling reinforcement. Then go for my spare pen, get writing on a bullet, and hope I got the syntax right because I didn’t think I’d get more than one shot at this.

I saw the pinprick of light at the end of the tunnel, then I felt something fly by me and I threw myself to the side. It crashed ahead, rolled and got to its, no, her feet. She was still mostly Fiona, although her shoulders were now bony with spines jutting from them. Her head and torso still mostly her. The lower legs had rippled the pants and fur, exposing black bones.

I raised the gun. If she was not done changing, this might work.

I fired, and her chest exploded open. There went her heart, if she even had one before all this. She stared at me, staggered, and a scream of rage behind me pointed out she wasn’t alone. I ran before confirming I did any lasting damage. I needed power to finish this. The kind I wrote, not had in me.

I made it outside as a wail of misery filled the cavern. Maybe I did real damage after all. And pissed Jeb off. Way to go me.

The folks would be proud.

I saw my phone in the sand, grab it as something screeched in the cavern and made my fur stand on end all the way to the tip of my tail. That was not a good sound. The phone was off, which was odd. I didn’t remember turning it off, just locking it.

I looked to the cavern’s entrance as I turned it back on. Another screech came from it and my body twitched in reaction. That was the sound of something scraping against the stone. Nothing scraping against stone should make that kind of sound.

The phone still wasn’t on. It couldn’t be out of power. The way the magic was written inside it, it could run for a week without being charged, and it had been slotted not even however long ago I got here. I ran to my bike and slotted the phone in.

Nothing happened.

Well, a head poked out of the cavern, but that wasn’t what I was hoping for.

My bike wasn’t starting. It wasn’t even registering the phone. It was as dead as it.

I realized the head was half the size of the cavern entrance.

I was so glad I went for mechanical latches instead of powered ones for my saddlebags. I opened the one on my side and grabbed the pen case. The screech happened again and the jerk it caused in me was so violent the case flew out of my hand.

Fuck, how was it doing that?

I grabbed the case out of the air as I heard stone crack. It was stuck in the opening. I smiled. It got itself stuck in the fucking opening.

I stopped smiling. It was fucking big enough it got stuck in the opening.

I opened the case, took the pen and got myself horny to activate it.

I’m an Orr, there are no situations where I can’t think of someone to turn me on. Topping Wolf will do it if nothing else manages it. I paid for it afterward, but it was so worth it.

I removed the clip and took the bullets out. I wished I’d known if it was a who or a what. Generalities don’t lend themselves to high power results. The more you wanted to affect the more you had to disperse that power.

Even ‘what the bullet hits’ fell under generalities.

Bigger bullets would also have been nice. My penmanship wasn’t the smallest. Orrs don’t really to anything small. Before I could write on the first bullet, a chunk of rock the size of my head nearly hit me. Used to be Jeb’s freed a…something from the cavern opening and was grabbing another chunk. I ran for the Jeep and made it behind to the thud of the stone impacting the other side.

I wrote. I needed to harden the bullets, so they’d stay intact after impact. Power increase, mainly kinetic, since that was behind the bullet’s damage. I threw in some mass increase, because this was a situation where more was better. Something of another Orr saying. More is always better. Velocity would help too. Connectors between the sigils and the bullets. Controls.

Parameters. 

“Fuck.” I kept forgetting about parameters. I wanted the magic to kick-in on impact, not when I pressed the trigger. There. Now to reload them in—

The jeep shoved against me so hard I nearly dropped everything. I kept hold of the important stuff; the bullets and the pen. “Fuck.” Why had I held onto the pen? I needed to put the bullets in the cartridge. I dropped it, grabbed the cartridge. Went to put the first bullet in, and realized my hand closed over them. Had I smeared the writing? Were they still in the right order?

I put them in as a rock the size of my bike flew over me. I didn’t have the time to go over anything. If it had rocks that large to throw, it had to be nearly out. I picked up the gun, slammed the cartridge in, pocketed the pen, and stepped out from behind the Jeep.

I jumped right where I came from, as a rock landed where I’d been. That thing was half the size of the Jeep. I ran for my life before it threw anything bigger at the Jeep.

Used to be Jeb wrenched itself out of the now much larger cavern opening.

Did they have seismic sensors in the area? Would they come investigate or do the sensible thing and tell the residents to evacuate?

“Why couldn’t I have been born to a normal, well adjusted, sensible family?” I leveled the gun at Use to be Jeb and fired. The impact wrenched its head to the side, and when he looked at me again, I saw it, right between its eyes. I aimed again, and he screamed at me.

My hands trembled. There was something in that scream that defied reality, wanted to break it and I had to wonder at the person who would make such a being. Or worse, become it.

I steadied my hand, and Used to be Jeb jerked as it broke out fully. I waited, and he—it?—looked at me again.

The second bullet hit the first one.

Way to go dad and your gift.

It ran at me, and I ran away.

I’m an Orr, not an idiot.

I had the head start, it had the better traction in this sand. Next generation, we need someone who can fly to be born. You hear me Whitney. You give us someone who can fucking fly. I’d demand teleportation, but it isn’t anywhere near as cool as flying.

I got behind an outcropping of stone and turned to aim.

Oh fuck, it was a lot closer than I thought. It opened its mouth for another reality wrenching scream and when it closed it, I put a third bullet exactly where the other two were.

I was running again. I aimed for rockier terrain. I needed the footing if I was going to maintain something resembling a lead. I ducked as I heard the whistling of air and turned as the stone flew where my head had been. As I’d hoped, it had to stop running to throw. Bullet number four went in with the others.

I was running again. Unfortunately, rocky ground means the mountain. I really hoped Used to be Fiona was dead, because that was where headed. If it had trouble getting out, getting back in should hold it in place long enough for the last two bullets.

I didn’t landed on my back as I turned to get into the cavern. The ground was littered with rubble, so much for sure footing; but Paul’s gift kept me on my feet. I lined a shot and decide against it. I couldn’t miss. I saw the grooves its body made against the wall of the cavern. From the looks of it, it grew larger as it moved to the exit.

I passed Used to be Fiona. Still dead, so that was good. Hopefully Used to be Jeb was pissed enough not to consider the trap this place was for something its size. The mountain shook as it entered and nearly all the light vanished. But there’s just enough so that it, and dad’s gift, meant I could make out its head as it forced its way in. I could even tell where the bullets were when it stilled to glare at me.

The flash from the gunshot was blinding in this situation, but I heard the bullet impact the one before it, and I backed up to give my eyes time to adjust. That spine curling screeching happened again as it forced itself deeper into the cavern. That was good for me, except that, you know, it was blocking the exit. I might not be able to get around it once it was dead.

“Problem for after it’s dead.”

I saw enough to make it out again, but not the details. Like where the fuck was its head? It moved, wrenched itself forward and let in just enough light I saw the glint and I fire at it.

Fuck, I hoped that wasn’t one of its eye.

The impact against the other bullet confirms I wasn’t screwed, and I smiled.

I backed up again and suddenly foot flew out from under me as I stepped on something. I was on my back, my head rang and my hands were empty.

“Fuck!”

That was a bad idea. The echo made my head ring even louder. “Kick in already,” I wished for dad’s gift and then my head felt better. Would another fuck be worth it for the chance I’d get a stronger version of his gift? There was no such thing as too much healing. Right?

I rolled on my stomach, looked deeper into the total darkness. I could sense the giant dildo, but it didn’t provide light. Where the fuck had the gun landed? I wasn’t going to find it lying here like I was waiting for a good top.

I put my hand down, and it landed on something cylindrical, large. Not the gun. I found the switch and light came from one end.

In this circumstance, something better.

I illuminated head of me and saw the gun. A screeching behind me and I looked, then ran like my life depends on it. Forget that; it did depend on it. How the fuck had it gotten here this fast? It had trouble getting out.

Magic asshole. It wasn’t like the thing only worked in your favor. I grabbed the gun and shone the light, looking for cover. The only object in the room was the twenty feet tall dildo. I was not hiding behind it.

It had nothing to do with it looking like it could be a dildo. I have nothing against them. Some of my best friends are dildo; well, okay, my brothers. The problem was that I’d have to lean against it to line up a shot and have cover. I was not touching that thing again, ever.

If I wasn’t going to go behind, I might as well stay where I was with it at my back. Nothing could exit it without being touched, right?

I was so fucking tired of this place already.

I crouched, illuminated the entrance and—

Blessed Balls and Cum!

Its head was barreling toward me.

I fired and threw myself to the side.

I made out the sound of the bullet impacting the others, then the detonation deafened me. I rolled on my back and I watched it collide against the giant dildo and melt against it; no, into it. All that was left were the fragments of seven bullets tinkling to the stone ground.

“Really?” I yelled at the dildo. “That’s all I had to do, fucking get them to touch you again? Couldn’t you have left me that message when you were busy with the psychic torture?”

I was so fucking done with this place.