The Lioness and the Black Widow 14

I woke up in a strange bed, with no memory of how I got there. The last thing I remembered was The Duchess pounding her fists into my face. Everything hurt. The tip of my tongue felt the hole where my front teeth had been. My left eye was swollen shut. There was no need for a mirror, I knew my nose was smashed. With my good eye, I looked around the room. There was nothing but me, my suffering and the bed I had been laid on. The walls were teal, the carpet beige. There were no windows, just one closed door. Again, I found myself agonizing over my ignorance; not knowing who was on the other side of that door.

After staring at the ceiling, looking into myself, for what seemed like hours, the door opened and Medea entered the room. She wore a black cloak over a long green dress. A long dark braid hung from each side of her hooded headed, resting like serpents in the afternoon sun on Medea’s firm breasts. An arrowhead hung from a silver chain around her neck. She carried a tray which she placed on the bed. The sight of the steam rising from the bowl of hot soup caused the acids in my empty stomach to foam and bubble. Medea helped me sit up. She laid the tray across my lap, she put the glass of water to my swollen lips and encouraged me to drink. She fed me spoonfuls of the nourishing broth.

Medea asked, “Do you feel abandoned by Lavinia?” I nodded my head. She blew the steam from the dark liquid on the spoon and raised it to my mouth. She stared at me for a long moment then said, “She didn’t abandon you. She just wants you to acquire a wide range of experiences. I sense your anger and I know your anguish. I’ve felt your pain. Lavinia wants you to grow, to evolve. In order to evolve, certain limits must be pushed, your existence must be threatened. The beings who raise themselves up to become master of the realm they exist in are survivors by definition. You cannot inherit the kind of power that Lavinia has. That woman is so powerful because of what she has survived. Everything else comes after that and is merely an add-on. If she had never suffered, if she had never had to fight her way out of situations where her existence was threatened, if she had never been pushed to survive when survival seemed impossible, she never could have become the force she is today. So I have to ask you Clarence, if she drags you up the same road, over the same rocks, ruts and razors that she had to crawl over to get to the top; is she doing it out of malice, indifference or love?”

My mouth was too swollen to answer. My mind was too traumatized and exhausted to fully consider her words. I just shook my head. Medea pulled a needle from a pocket in her cloak, “I’m going to give you something for your pain. I want you to rest for awhile.” I shook my head and managed to make out a muffled, “Nnnrow.”

Medea raised her eyebrows, “You don’t want anything for the pain? I don’t encourage you to trust anyone, but nothing will happen to you while you’re in this room. Your body needs rest.” I jerked my head from side to side moaning, “Nnnrow,” repeatedly. Medea placed the tray on the floor. Then, as quick as a viper’s strike, she grabbed my chin and pushed my head back with her left hand, then she stuck me in the neck, injecting the contents of the syringe into my bloodstream, with her right. After the initial shock and surge of adrenaline, a wave of euphoria swept over me and everything went numb.

I began to drift off after Medea laid me back down and pulled the blanket up to my chin. I wanted to ask one question before I fell asleep. I concentrated on her and asked the question in my mind over and over, “Why did you bring me here?” Medea’s voice entered my mind, “I want to use you for something, something important. You don’t have a week to lay here getting nursed back to health. You must recover quickly. Don’t communicate with me like this unless I initiate the conversation. You’re immediate needs have been tended to, I’ve provided you with the information you need. I can’t be bothered with your thoughts and questions entering my mind. Your fear, inner-conflicts and insecurities are none of my concern. Rest.” She picked up the tray and exited the room. The lid of my good eye grew heavy, a feeling of comfort and relief swept over me. Once again, I was engulfed in darkness.

Everything was white. The ground, the sky, the thick fur pelts that covered my body; I stood in snow that came up to my knees. I saw a spot of black in that infinite white realm of desolation, loneliness and merciless cold. It was the silhouette of a person standing on top of a hill in the distance. I began trudging through snow toward the unknown figure. After struggling to climb up the incline, after almost reaching the top only to tumble back down to the bottom several times, I finally made it. The figure stood with it’s back toward me, wearing similar fur garments as the one’s I wore. Terror seized my heart, besieging my consciousness. I feared that I had hoped in vain. I feared that I had fought and struggled all that way, hoping to find something, someone in that empty landscape, only to find myself; the one person in the world who I had spent my entire life trying to escape. Was I doomed to spend eternity alone with myself? Was I in hell?

I approached the unknown figure, grabbed it by the shoulders and turned it around. The Duchess’ face appeared framed in fur. Her eyes narrowed. She smiled and said, “I’m glad you’re here Clarence. I’ve been out here all alone. For centuries I’ve kept all the dark secrets that exist within the heart of man. I’ve kept them all to myself. In isolation, these secrets have been rotting away inside me; without anyone to share them with, without anyone to help me understand them.”

Happiness, at that moment I believed I had finally found the path to happiness. I had found another lonely soul. I believed that I could help alleviate her suffering, and through helping her and providing her with relief, I would lose myself in her. I believed that I had found my means of escape. Smiling, I said, “I’m here. Tell me anything, and I will listen; ask me to do anything, and I will do it. You are my salvation. I am so happy to have found you.” Tears welled up in my eyes.

The Duchess hit me in the side of the head with something hard and sharp. I collapsed in the snow; unable to move but still able to see, think and feel. She stood over me with a sharp rock in her hand. The blood was hot flowing down my neck. She pulled out a knife and cut open my fur coverings, exposing my bare flesh to the brutal cold. She knelt down beside me and raised the knife in the air, clenching it with both hands. I watched helplessly as she brought the knife down into my side, then pulled it across my body, slicing open my abdomen. Billows of steam rose from intestines. I tried to scream, but nothing came out. The Duchess set the knife aside and removed her gloves, then shoved her hands inside me; digging, clawing and tearing. She ripped my liver from my body, brought it to her mouth and took a large bite. Then smiled at me as she chewed, her mouth smeared with my blood.

Soaked in sweat and trembling, that’s how I woke up. Everything was soaked, the sheets, the pillow, the mattress underneath. The door opened and Medea entered with another tray. She placed it on the bed and looked down at me, “This time you can feed yourself. Try to sit up.” After much grunting, sweating and grimacing, I was able to sit myself up. She put the tray on my lap and sat down on the edge of the bed.

Her voice came into my head, “You seem disturbed. Did you have a bad dream?” I replied in thought, “Yes.”

“What was it about?”

“The Duchess was eating me alive.”

“Is that the part of the dream that disturbed you the most?”

After carefully considering the question I replied, “No.”

“What did disturb you most about the dream?”

“I was a fool.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was so desperate to escape myself, so terrified of being alone, that I walked right into the arms of a demon and was consumed by her.”

“I see. It’s been my experience that loneliness, along with the fear of being alone, causes many people to open their door to the devil. They know it’s the devil who they are inviting into their hearts and minds. But that doesn’t matter to them, not at first anyway. What matters to them at the time is that someone is there, someone other than themselves. Those people must have a very low opinion of themselves to prefer giving themselves over to someone, or something, that they know will destroy them, rather than reconcile themselves with their own hearts. If the devil offered a lifetime without loneliness in exchange for an eternity of suffering in hell, how many people would take that offer? Would you?”

“I don’t know.”

“The good thing about foolishness is that it’s curable. There is no bigger fool than the one who refuses to remedy his own foolishness, especially when the remedy is known to him and readily available. Don’t be that fool Clarence.”

“Okay.”

“Eat your soup. I want you to get on your feet and start moving around. You have work to do.”