The Lioness and the Black Widow 8

We all waited in the living-room while Lavinia worked her magic upstairs. Antigone and the twins stood with their backs to wall on one side of the room. Damijana, Black Sally and I did the same on the opposite side. The Duchess removed her Chinchilla and tossed it on the couch. The German Shepherd on Sally’s leash growled and bared his teeth at The Duchess. Damijana gripped her machete, gently tapping the tip of the blade against the wall behind her. The Duchess sat down and said, “You know, even barbarians believe in hospitality.”

Sally replied, “If the savages and barbarians hadn’t believed in hospitality, the world would still belong to the savages and barbarians.”

The Duchess tilted her head to the side and smiled, “I’m glad that’s not the case. I wouldn’t want to live this way if everyone else was doing it. I’ll remember to pack my own refreshments next time because the Kastelics are too hardcore to offer their guests a cup of coffee and something sweet.”

Ira entered without being noticeably summoned. Damijana said, “Bring us some coffee and cake.” Ira nodded her head and returned to the kitchen. The Duchess rubbed her hands together excitedly and said, “I’ll be surprised if we get to Sathanas before one of his associates kills him. We haven’t even got started yet and he’s already willing to pay us to leave him alone. After tonight, he’ll be isolated.”

Damijana asked, “Why did you go after The Fallen Angel? You know that we‘re not supposed to attack other Matriarchs without a very good reason.”

The Duchess said, “Why? Is it so we can create a community of telepathics and protect each other? Since I’ve been in this, it’s never been about creating and protecting communities. When I came in, the older women in the house taught me to realize my power through my own suffering and to strengthen myself through the suffering of others. They sent me out to hunt, torture and kill. In my house, if you haven’t done those things, then you’re not a member of ANY house. The Fallen Angel tried to call herself a Matriarch without having any blood on her hands, without bringing any sacrifices to the altar, without consuming the meat.”

Damijana stepped away from the wall, took a seat across from The Duchess and asked, “How did your house find you?” Ira returned with a silver tray loaded with coffee and cake. She set it on the coffee table between Damijana and The Duchess.

The Duchess poured herself a cup coffee and said, “I was a runaway. They found me on the street. An old lady came along offering me food and a safe place. She looked wealthy. I figured that I’d eat her food, warm-up and rob her later that night. When I got the house, the women beat me to the floor as soon I walked in the door. They tore my clothes off and tied me to a pole. Then they brought in a girl I knew from the street. She was about my age. They tortured her right in front of me. I remember the hot piss running down my thigh, when I saw them cut her open and remove her liver. They passed it around, eating it raw. Then the Matriarch shoved a handful of the meat into my mouth, held it shut and forced me to swallow. I don’t know how long I was tied to the pole. It could have been a day. It could have been a month. I was too busy screaming to worry about the time. They stuck needles in me, they burned me, they whipped me, they pulled out four of my teeth. They tore off my fingernails and toenails. They cut off my hair. They untied my ankles and held my legs spread apart, then they fucked me with baseball-bats until they had to pull me down and sew me up to stop the bleeding. Then they put me in a coffin and buried me alive behind the house. I had the opportunity to do a lot of soul-searching while I was in that coffin, staring into a darkness that a person who hasn’t experienced it could never comprehend. I thought I was suffering through my last hours of existence. I prayed for it to end, for death to just come quickly. Death didn’t come. The members of the house dug me up and healed me. Here I am resurrected.”

Damijana said, “You got your revenge though, didn’t you?”

“That’s not revenge, just like Lavinia killing Antonija was not revenge. That’s just the way this game is played.”

“So you expect to be murdered by your predecessor?”

The Duchess looked over at Antigone, “You don’t become a Matriarch by getting elected. The title doesn’t go to the prettiest, smartest or most graceful. This isn’t a fucking beauty pageant. There is only one road leading to the crown, murder. When that changes, all of these houses will fall.”

Heavy footsteps could be heard coming down the stairs. We all went out into the hallway. The three zombies stood motionless at the bottom of the stairs. All three stared at the ground. Chris foamed at the mouth. We placed Chris and the young woman in the trunk of the Cutlass. We put the man who had been tied to the cross in the trunk of The Duchess’ car. I looked at the house before getting in the passenger seat of the Lincoln. I focused on Lavinia and thought, “I love you.”

Lavinia’s voice came into my mind like a cool, refreshing breeze on a stifling summer day, “Clarence, your love is of tremendous value to me. I love you as much as you love me, if not more. I didn’t have to force, or manipulate, you into loving me or giving me your loyalty and obedience. You have given all of this to me out of your own free will. I’m not used to that. When I was crippled and disfigured, your loyalty increased rather than decreasing. That is devotion. I do not take your devotion for granted. Now go, you have work to do.” I felt a pair of soft, full lips kiss my cheek, but there was nobody at my side. Anguish filled my heart as I wondered what it must be like to exist behind that mask, without the ability to press your lips against the flesh of the one you love; without the ability to receive a kiss on the lips in return.

The Duchess yelled, “LET’S GO!” I hopped in the car. We drove into the city, followed by Antigone and the twins in the Cutlass. The streetlights had just come on as the last remaining light in the sky faded away. We pulled into the parking lot of a large apartment complex. As we slowed down to go over the speed-bumps, I looked out the window at the groups of young men hanging out in front of the buildings. Some were drinking, some were smoking; some laughed, while others fought. A heavy-set man with coal black skin and dreadlocks threw a gang sign at us. The Duchess stopped several feet away from the man. A group of young men came to his side and began yelling at our car. One of the young men lifted his shirt to show us the pistol he had tucked in pants. Antigone’s Cutlass came to a stop behind us. The Duchess said, “These guys right here, these are the guys The Great Sathanas uses as muscle. They’re getting ready to come looking for us. I figured we’d save them the drive.”

The heavy-set man approached the car. He raised his arms and yelled at me, “Wassup punk? You lookin’ for something?” The Duchess popped the trunk. When the heavy-set man saw the zombie climb out of the trunk, I saw him mouth the words, “WHAT THE FUCK” but no sound came out of his mouth. The man reached under his shirt. Before he could pull his weapon, the zombie was on top of him, tearing away the flesh of the man’s face with his teeth. Antigone let the other two zombies out. Gunfire erupted.

The Duchess ducked, opened her car door, grabbed my arm and pulled me out of the car with her, as she threw herself to the ground. She fell in a puddle of oil and water, soiling her Chinchilla. She sat up and looked at the stained arms and front of her coat. Bullets ricocheted off a dumpster behind her. She screamed, “LOOK AT THIS SHIT!” She stared at me wide-eyed while pointing at her soiled coat. I laid on the ground, curled up in the fetal position, my arms covering my head. Gunshots and screams filled the night air.

Antigone rushed to The Duchess side and asked, “What happened? Are you okay?” The Duchess replied, “Am I okay?” She pointed at her coat, “Do I look okay to you?” She stood up, pulled off her coat and threw it on the ground in front of the dumpster. Antigone yelled, “GET DOWN!” The Duchess continued her tirade as she walked to the trunk of her car, bullets whizzing past her head, “PUNK-MOTHER-FUCKERS!” She pulled an assault rifle from the trunk and opened fire. I couldn’t see what she was shooting at, or if she was hitting it. All I saw was the empty shells bouncing off the asphalt.

Antigone shouted, “DUCHESS! WE HAVE TO GO!” Then she scrambled back to the bullet-riddled Cutlass and climbed in the driver’s seat. The Duchess slammed another clip into her rifle and yelled at me, “CLARENCE! GET BACK IN THE CAR!” Then she opened fire again. When her second clip was empty, all the gunfire had stopped. I jumped to my feet and climbed over the driver’s seat into the passenger side. When I looked out the window, I saw all the fallen young men, their white shirts soaked in blood, the zombies tearing away and consuming their flesh. The night had gone silent except for the sounds of screams and distant sirens.

The Duchess threw her rifle in the trunk, slammed it shut and she hopped in the car. Antigone turned her car around in the parking lot and pulled out. We followed right behind. I looked at The Duchess and asked, “What about the zombies? What will the police do when they find them?”

The Duchess answered, “The zombies will be laid out like the dead when the police get there. They’ll take them to the morgue with the other dead people.”

“Did we get all of Sathanas’ guys?”

The Duchess laughed, “What do you mean ‘we’? You were on the ground curled up in a ball. But to answer question, we got enough of them. Those gangsters weren’t loyal to Sathanas, they were loyal to the money he paid them. After this…after the survivors go tell their friends about seeing people being eaten by fucking zombies…there is no gang on the face of this earth that is going to connect themselves to Sathanas. He’s done. What you need to be worried about is your meeting with Medea. You’re not out of danger yet Clarence. The night is still young.”

I asked, “How come I’m meeting with the Second-Chair of this house and not the Matriarch.”

“You should know by now that the Second-Chair has four functions; they enforce discipline in the house, they see that the Matriarch’s orders are carried out by the members of the house, they deal with minor problems so the Matriarch doesn’t have to worry about them and most importantly, they plot to murder the Matriarch and take her crown. That’s what Second-Chair does. So when you’re meeting with a Second-Chair, you’re usually meeting the next Matriarch of that house. Medea comes from one of the largest and most bellicose houses in existence. When they’re not at war with outsiders, they’re warring with another house. When they’re not warring with another house, they go to war with each other. Usually, they’re doing a combination of those things all at once. Their roots go back to the kingdom of Dahomey. They used women as warriors. An exceptionally vicious and brutal cult grew out of that practice. That cult still lives on in the shadows today. That’s who we’re on our way to see.”

“Is there anything I need to know before I meet her?”

“What’s there for you to know? They say Medea can tear man’s heart with her bare hands. If I was you, I wouldn’t assume they mean that figuratively. She places no value on human life, none whatsoever. Rumor has it that she murdered her own parents and siblings. I suggest that you maintain a degree of distance from her, don’t be ashamed to hide behind your Matriarch. You DO NOT want to be present at one Medea’s rituals and whatever you do, whatever she does, DON’T FUCK HER! If she fucks a man, she kills him. And from I understand, she likes to fuck a lot.”

“Wait a minute…you said that I will naturally serve the Keepers of the Altar. If she tells me to do something…”

The Duchess interrupted, “You belong to Lavinia. While that may not be generally approved of, it’s known. Even Medea doesn’t want problems with Lavinia, not if she can avoid it. She won’t force you to fuck her. But if you if spend too much time with her, she will be tempted. She’ll seek to seduce rather than force. That way she can lay the blame on you; when she fucks you, tears your heart out and eats it.”

I turned my head and stared out the window. Lavinia’s voice entered my mind, “Don’t be afraid of Medea. She is a woman who believes in honor. She has heard of your loyalty and respects it. She will tempt you and she will test you. If you fall to temptation or fail her tests, she will kill you. It‘s your responsibility not to fall or fail.”

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