The Lioness and the Black Widow 17

The three Matriarchs made their way to the dungeon, followed by their three victims. Damijana’s voice penetrated my consciousness, “Follow me to the tunnel.” I waded through the gore, stepping over armless, headless corpses. In the tunnel, dimly lit with red lamps, Damijana looked me in the eyes and whispered, “I’m glad you’re okay. I know The Duchess handled you pretty rough.”

My reply was, “I’m NOT okay! ‘Pretty rough’? The Duchess drugged me and had me raped. She recorded it and showed it to me when I came to. Do you know how that feels?”

“Clarence, look at the world you’ve immersed yourself in…”

“The world YOU immersed me in. I didn’t ask for this and I sure the fuck didn’t agree to it! And I don’t want to hear any more bullshit about ‘variety of experiences’, ‘enlightenment’ and ‘strengthening’. You brought me into a cult of death and self-destruction. You took my life and tore it…”

Damijana smacked me hard across the face, “How many chances have you had to walk away Clarence? HOW MANY ?!? Why didn’t you take Lavinia’s offer? She offered to not only free you, but to let you walk away a wealthy man. I’ve never seen you refuse to participate when called upon.”

“Doing what you’re told because there is a gun to your head…that’s not participation. Being manipulated, coerced, constantly tortured and threatened with torture; being forced into the role of accomplice-to-your-crimes…that is not agreement Damijana. I fell in love with you and I followed you.”

“You CHOSE to follow me Clarence.”

“I didn’t choose to fall in love with you. That’s what led me to this.”

“Save the dramatics Clarence. It doesn’t speed or slow my heart a bit.”

“Nothing does anymore, right? You’ve become a living ice-sculpture, calloused to everything. Is that what you wanted me to become?”

“If I loved you, yes, that is exactly what I would want you to become.”

Black Sally stepped into the tunnel and approached, “This isn’t the time for lover’s quarrels. All eyes are on us.”

Damijana turned away from me, toward Sally, “Appearances are meaningless at this point.”

Black Sally replied, “Appearances are NEVER meaningless!”

“Three Matriarch’s are butchering and consuming their sacrifices, but only one Matriarch will emerge from this tunnel.”

Black Sally looked at me and asked, “Are you alright Clarence? You seem a little shook up. You did a good job in there. I’m proud of the man you’ve become.” I was left speechless with a perverse feeling of pride. For the first time in a long time, I felt accepted.

Damijana appeared at my side, she kissed me on the cheek, then she placed something cold and heavy in my hand. I looked down to see myself holding a large nickel-plated revolver, the one that was used in the brutalization and murder of the Jehovah’s Witness. Black Sally whispered in my right ear, “You need to kill The Duchess.” In my left ear Damijana whispered, “We’re right here. You can handle this. Don’t be afraid.”

Black Sally pointed to a door in the middle of the tunnel and commanded, “Lavinia and Medea will come out that door first, followed by The Duchess. When The Duchess comes out, empty your gun into her face.”

Damijana and Sally both turned and went back into the bunker, they slammed the steel door shut behind them. I stood alone, fixed in place, fighting the urge to run, to vomit, to point the gun at my own head and pull the trigger. But there was nowhere to run, nothing in my stomach to heave and Death had never saved me from a Matriarch’s cruel grip before. On more than one occasion, they’d delivered me to Death, only to snatch me right out of Her solemn embrace. To these women, Death was the Matriarch of all Matriarch’s. They studied Her, they worshipped Her, they served Her; striving to emulate their Goddess, expecting to be granted a portion of Her Divinity. Since I served Lavinia, I also served the Goddess. I had become an instrument of Her Divine Will.

The door opened, startling me. I almost dropped the gun. Lavinia emerged from the dungeon. Her black and red wooden mask filled me with a mixture of terror, awe and longing. Medea followed closely behind. The two Matriarch’s passed me without speaking and exited the tunnel. I heard the door shut. I heard the lock slam into place. The Duchess still hadn’t appeared, but I felt her presence. I attempted to approach the entrance to the dungeon, I found I was frozen in fear.

Finally, The Duchess stepped into the tunnel. She was naked; every inch of her body was covered in blood as if she’d bathed in it. She gripped the long, dark hair of a severed head in her right hand. It wasn’t just the fear that paralyzed me then, I was stunned by her beauty, her power; I was enthralled by the terror and hatred she made me feel. I was disgusted with myself for the way I lusted for her. Damijana’s voice entered my mind, “Don’t be afraid of her Clarence. Just raise your hand and pull the trigger. You can do this Clarence. You are a warrior. I wouldn’t give you a task you are not capable of completing. Right now your task is to destroy that demon standing in front of you. Destroy her before she destroys you. Just raise your hand and pull the trigger.”

Inspired by the thoughts Damijana placed in my head, filled with a new resolve and subconsciously determined to make Damijana proud; I pointed the gun at The Duchess and pulled the trigger. The gun went ‘Click’. I pulled the trigger again and again and again. Click. Click. Click. The Duchess stood motionless and silent, her blood-steeped red-hair clung to her body. The whites of her eyes flashed violence and hate. My hand fell to my side, the gun dropped to the ground.

The Duchess’ high-pitched banshee-like shriek filled the tunnel. She closed the distance between us, and swung the head, before I could even think to react to. The human slammed into the side of my face. My head was rocked, my legs gave out. I found myself on the floor, dazed, looking up at the blurred burgundy figure standing over me, beating me with the head of her latest victim.

Knowing I wouldn’t be able to endure the crushing blows of The Duchess’ gruesome bludgeon for long, I quickly rose to my knees and wrapped my arms around The Duchess’ legs, planning to lift her off her feet and throw her to the ground. She slipped from my grasp, kneed me in the face, then brought the head down hard on the back of neck, knocking me unconscious.

I was awoken by a searing, agonizing pain in my rectum. My face was pressed against the cement floor. The Duchess was on my back, one hand held my head to the ground, the other was shoved up my ass. I felt her bloody wet hair on my face, the heat of her breath in my ear. I screamed out in pain as she pulled her hand out, then jammed it back in repeatedly. I heard her voice in my ear, “See what happens when you forget your place bitch!” She sunk her teeth into the back of my neck, then jerked her head from side to side. My teeth scraped against cement, my voice failed me, turning my screams to a raspy, guttural moan. I felt tears fall from my eyes when she tore a chunk of flesh from my neck. She spit it out on the ground next to my face, pulled her hand from my ass, then attempted to shove it in my mouth. She wasn’t satisfied with the damage she’d already done to me, she wanted to make me lick my own feces and blood from her hand.

I saw the revolver on the floor, inches from my face. I heard Lavinia’s stern, compassionless voice in my mind, “You are not defeated unless you choose to be. You can choose life. But you must earn your place at my Table. You have to prove yourself. If you want to live to feel the glory, love and acceptance that you’ve suffered so much to find, you must rise and overtake her.”

I flipped myself over suddenly, and with all the force I could muster, throwing The Duchess off omy back. Then I grabbed the revolver and threw myself on top The Duchess, straddling her. I quickly pinned her arms to ground with my legs and began beating her in the face and head with the revolver. In a panicked frenzy, I bludgeoned her as hard and fast as I could. When I stopped, her head was nothing but a thick repulsive stew, made up of bone, blood, teeth, cartilage, flesh, mucous and brain matter. I roared at the remains of The Duchess in triumph. I parted her legs, slid between her thighs, pushed my pants down to my knees and shoved my cock deep inside her. I lifted her lifeless legs in the air and fucked her hard and furious as I shouted, “NOW WHO’S BOSS YOU FUCKING BITCH! WHO’S ON TOP NOW YOU EVIL FUCKING WHORE!”

When I felt myself about to cum, I pulled out and ejaculated all over her stomach and breasts. Then I sat down beside her, laughing hysterically like a man whose fallen so far into the depths of insanity, he could never hope to return. I don’t know how long I sat there laughing. It could have been minutes, it could have been hours. I felt a firm hand on my shoulder. I looked up to see Lavinia standing over me. Her voice declared, “You’ve finally arrived Clarence. Get on your feet.”

I rose to my feet, pulled my pants up and thought, “I was surprised to see you. I didn’t expect to see you walk again.”

“I got prosthetics. I have to many responsibilities to be bound to a chair. I‘ve had to overcome far more obstacles than you. Your suffering pales in comparison to what I‘ve endured. I lost my legs, my beauty and one my breasts. But still, I overcame the dominant force. Despite my handicap, I became the dominant force. The Duchess ruled you, abused you and set out to destroy you. But you overtook her in the end. On Monday the title goes to the most determined, to the most fraudulent and crafty on the next. Wednesday belongs to the strongest and mightiest, followed by ‘the rule of the bookworm’ on Thursday. Friday is dominated by the wealthiest, while Saturday goes to the most insidious. On Sunday, nobody rests, the plotters plot and the spiders weave their webs, Sunday belongs to the strategist. If you wish to hold a position of power at my Table, and rule over others, you must be all of those things and more. You must be able to adapt to the circumstances as needed. Your ability to adapt will be your advantage. I don’t rule on just Sundays and Wednesdays, I rule seven days a week. The Duchess did not. Now you’ve seen the limits of that type of power.”

“What now?” I asked. Lavinia pulled a dagger from her skirt and handed it to me. She said, “Cut her open and take out her liver. We’ll go to dungeon and consume the meat together, alone. I missed you Clarence.”

“Why did you leave me to…”

Lavinia interrupted, gently placing her fingers on my lips, “I need someone who can carry the load. It isn’t profitable for me to attach myself to someone who I have to carry. If I was to continue to allow myself to fall in love with you, I had to help you realize your full potential. I don’t cater to the weak and I certainly don’t allow myself to love them. I want to love you, so I shaped you into what you needed to be. That’s why Clarence.”