In the Deadlands (32 page)

Invisible radiation lacerates our bodies.

The orb has become an eye of sleeting agony.

The senses are seared by it.

                                             
and the warm
                                             
amniotic presence
                                             
radiates stronger.

The commander winds up ninety knots.

All the senses

scream for release.

White hot agony.

The flesh is seared.

The ears scream.

The eyes burn.

Flesh

is torn

away

from flesh.

Living tissue

dissolves

in pain.

The rocks rip and tear and grind.

The soul writhes.

                                             
A funny taste,
                                             
a funny flat taste
                                             
like metal.

The commander winds up one hundred and ten knots.

                                             
It floods warm and cool

                                               
through me,

                                             
like wine.
                                             
Soul wine.

A whimpering

sound of fear,

something

crying for release.

Twenty-three molten agonies.

Twenty-three fear-stained souls.

Far away

something beats its mandibles in delight.

An immense weight

of terror,

a rasping in the lungs,

a pounding in the ears,

in the heart,

in the soul,

a throbbing in the flesh,

a pulsing stinging agony.

                                             
It floods down my throat,
                                             
down
                                             
and into my belly,
                                             
where it radiates
                                             
warmness
                                             
coolness
                                             
release
                                             
satisfaction
                                             
fulfillment,

i am six feet of burning, turning, twisting.

i am molten lava.

i am seared rock.

The soul shrieks soundlessly.

i am scraped raw.

The commander winds up one hundred and thirty knots.

                                             
and slowly
                                             
it permeates my body,
                                             
pulsing
                                             
outward through my
                                             
flesh,
                                             
something warm
                                             
and hungry and thirsting,
                                             
and i am warm
                                             
and hungry
                                             
and thirsting

and i whimper.

i shrink gibbering inside myself,

a quivering gobbet of flesh,

                                       
falling...

                                       
bending...

                                       
curling...

                                       
knees to chest.

                                       
Hands clenched in little pink
                                       
fists.

                                       
Fists to chin.
                                       
Head to knees.
                                       
Eyes tight.

                                       
Shoulders tight.
                                       
Elbows stiff.

                                       
And i am a ball of gibbering
                                       
fear.

                                             
and i am released
                                             
and satisfied
                                             
and fulfilled.

                                       
A whimpering fetus,
                                       
shivering
                                       
quivering.

                                             
i am fulfilled.

                                       
Clinging.
                                       
Must not let go.

                                       
The mouth works in silent
                                       
desire.
                                       
Imploring.
                                       
A red and white-hot burning
                                       
grows deep within the groin.

                                             
i am fulfilled.

                                       
Rivulets of icy sweat
                                       
streak the tightened flesh.

                                             
i am fulfilled.
                                             
Do you understand that?
                                             
i am fulfilled!

                                       
NO!

                                             
We are fulfilled!
                                             
We
are fulfilled!

                                       
Flesh,
                                       
chafed and scalded
                                       
and scraped raw,
                                       
bleeding from wounds too small
                                       
to see.

                                       
Searing air
                                       
rasps the throat
                                       
and burns the lungs.

                                             
All of us!
                                             
together!
                                             
We are fulfilled!

Somewhere a voice calls out,

One hundred and forty knots.

Far away is something big.

Something that scrabbles mindlessly,

clicking and ticking

and clattering across the deadlands floor.

Something that utters deep leathery groans

of slavering anticipation.

Chitinous claws scrape rock.

And fear

must un-knot me.

Fear must un-knot me.

                                       
Slowly,
                                       
a fist
                                       
unclenches,
                                       
becomes
                                       
a claw,
                                       
a hand.

                                             
but we are fulfilled...

                                       
Now
                                       
the other one,
                                       
slowly,
                                       
slowly...

                                             
We are fulfilled
                                             
with an overpowering
                                             
need
                                             
and love

                                       
Put
                                       
one hand
                                       
in front of the other

                                             
love...
                                             
(desire)

                                       
and
                                       
bring your head up.

                                             
for each other
                                             
and for the commander
                                             
and

                                       
Put
                                       
one knee
                                       
in front of the other
                                       
and
                                       
ignore
                                       
the bloody flowing
                                       
from scraped and stinging
                                       
hands and knees.