“It’s Charles now!” The little Shovelhead shoved Harmony in to the wall, glancing over at Abigail who still stood nearby. “You can still call me Charlie. And I’m in charge of the Positive Energy Circle now. We have a new Teacher.”
Oh His little blood soaked smirk. Every time she found a decent one, Abigail understood Her Dark Mother a little better. Such pride in the deranged. Such beauty in the chaos. So much potential in passion.
He ran around the rave as a little terror the rest of the night. Like a puppy trying to catch his tail. Or a car, Abigail couldn’t decide which. Every once and awhile he would return, to make sure she was still watching. Still proud. She would smile and take his hand, reassuring him once before she let him run off.
It was why it always hurt to see when they slipped up, beyond what she could deflect and adjust. She could do so much with a fawning arm and a tilt of the head. She had masterfully learned how to explain that new bloods were always confused when she read the passages about the Land of Nod and Lilith’s appearance. Four years hiding as an Orchid amongst the weeds, it was a lie you mastered. In chaos like this, it was difficult to teach the fine line between subtly and passion.
The cries of “heretic” pierced her ears. She cringed for just a moment, until she realized they were not directed at her. Charlie. He looked around like a rabbit in a trap as they slowly slunk upon him. Abigail was so proud of him when he broken in to the sprint, to try to get out of the boundaries of the rave. Like he would have somewhere to go to outrun heresy hungry Sabbat. He wouldn’t make it far, that she knew beyond a doubt. But the zeal, the passion, the hope…She could taste it in the air for a moment and closed her eyes. He would have been such a fine bearer of the truth,
“I’m sure he’ll make it out okay.” Harmony piped up from her side, causing her to open them again. “He got a head start.”
Abigail just smiled and put her hand on Harmony’s shoulder, whispering an ‘of course Darling’ before walking to lean on a wall on the edge of the crowd for a moment.
Was this a punishment? Had she not made Her proud? Abigail had done such good work this night. Sewed so many seeds of disharmony. Found that mortal who kissed Her Mother’s feet and reinforced how right she was to do so. Reinforced that the female can and should trump the masculine amongst the broken little women she found scattered about, so they would rethink what the book said when they read it… What had she done wrong?
The Saints were making their appearance more…Known, now. Now that the feast was over and things were more serious and less fun, it made sense that the Inquisitor and his folk were around and about. She could not help but glance at Malachi as he swept past, after the group that ran off.
Was that what this was meant to be then? Was this punishment? She looked skyward, as if she would see Lilith’s face in the blanket of the stars and the Dark Lady would give her an answer directly. Was the Dark Lady upset she was not successful with the Priest? She hadn’t had enough time and he got swept away. Surely Mother could see that. It wasn’t for lack of trying. And she had intended to continue trying through the night before this happened….
Punishment for enjoying the game, then. For the shiver the Priest’s eye-roll gave her. She had been so certain she could have had him with just a little more work. The time crunch had been too much. Please, Mother. Abigail never asked much.
“I was greedy.” She whispered, inaudible over the thrum of the music and the noise of the crowd. “Like my brother Caine. I see it, Mother.” She ran the metal of her claw rings along the little sticker she had left on her arm near the tattoo of Lilith’s son on her flesh. “I tried to take too much too quickly. I went for too many. I just wanted to please you, Mother. Punish me, not the Boy.”
She glanced across the crowd, to where Zenith was watching. Her. And then the spot Charlie had been standing before he ran. And then Her again.
Oh. Oh is this what it was? The unworthy little shit she wanted to let Harmony and Charlie eat after the night was over. She should have fucking known. Weak. Disgusting. Afraid of the big bad Men all around him. That would be a matter for later. She could feel her hunger build now.
They dragged Charlie back, to the circle in the dance floor for all the little children and Sabbat to watch as they shackled him. She moved only a little closer.
“I understand.” She whispered. “Greed. I had such greed. “ she looked at the ground when she heard him begin to trash against the binds. “I will do better. Take him with you, in to your embrace, Mother. Hold him there. He will do you proud. He will be your shield.” The clipboard was in the mud and blood at his feet. If she looked, she could probably see where he had etched her name on the side of it. She smiled just a little bit. “I-“
“PRAISE LILITH!”
She was broken from her reverent apologies to Her Mother by Charie’s last shout. A Martyr. A precious, precious Martyr. To shout the name, with such pride and conviction. She could already hear whispers of new babies asking their Sires who that was. What the elders meant when they said ‘heretic’.
The Dark Mother was letting her know that she was forgiven. That there was work to do, to raise her chin. She was a recruiter, a whisper in the wind. Charlie had been a sweet little fire bomb, needing to burn bright.
“Praise Lilith.” She whispered and pulled up her fur lined hood. “Mother of us all.”
Macabress Manuscripts 