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THE LAW OF BEASTS 3: THE BELLY

By dapharoah69 All Rights Reserved ©

Scifi / Fantasy

Chapter 21: BLACK PAINT

Doneshius had other plans. “Kleopha. Formal mortal, vagabond…a woman with her own fertility, vision! An impeccable achievement thy presence has become. Ye love and adore the creatures of the earth, the same rodents that contradicted thy pompous Treaty of Animals. What was that contradiction, ye might ask? Ah! I thank ye for thy question! Animals kill themselves, that’s the type of fine print that blows thy mind, Kleopha! It boosts thy I.Q. to all new levels, challenging what you’ve learned before ye can advance to the next spectrum of life. How does it feel to be a failed advocate, Kleopha? Ye feel like Alex Cross or James Patterson? Ye feel like a character inside thy own defunct reality, or do ye feel like the author of failed experiments with a ghost light on Writer’s Block? Authors know nothing about microscopes or telescopes; ye should have stuck to thy day job. How can ye send a golfer into space when he thinks the moon is a par 4?”

I tightened my eyes, narrowing them on his masculine frame. A silhouette against the sky rising behind him into puffy clouds of bitterness and disdain, I wasn’t going to let him hypnotize or brainwash me again, so help me God.

“Ye art nothing more but a PETA wanna -be!” He blinked and a can of black paint appeared in my hands, and I was holding on to it as if I consciously picked it up. I held my breath, taken aback by the magnum opus of his execution. “Go ahead! Get mad! Get enraged! Throw the paint on my fur!” he growled and an expensive black, shiny and silky fur coat formed from ashes and dust all over his upper body! His hair extended to his buttocks, huge, bushy like a lion, but not quite.

His scary eyes widened and blackened. “Throw it! Ruin it! Wet me with thy paint of rage!” His fangs were breathtaking, truly a sight to see! Shined like gold, gleamed like platinum!

I didn’t hesitate taking him up on his request.

I threw the paint at his fur coat and he held up his hands and twirled them together. Meticulously, he gathered the black paint in a wind of circulation between twirling hands twelve inches from each other and he stomped the ground, and monstrous hands reached from the earth and held me in place, the steam from their fingernails burning my face and I screamed from the pain, distinctly using the part of my vampiric self to erase the blisters from my face, and create a shield around me and my unborn children. Those monstrous hands turned to Tarantulas and scurried off into the distance.

Oh, no! My babies art upset! They violently turned in my womb. Oh my God! I felt it! For the first time I felt my children move! Or was this the second time? Nonetheless it was the most glorious feeling!

I was choked up with fever! I was overcome with emotion. For the first time in my life I put someone before myself, and it actually felt good to do. This was unlike Chanteuse. I put her before me as a muse to destroy her, as I have. Good ridden, bitch!

No…I take that back. That wasn’t very positive or productive thinking. It wasn’t like I didn’t have my share of lies, things I told her as a means to mislead her down the path I needed her to go in order to initiate my plan to get her back for mocking my mother’s death, seek vengeance about her luring me into the rain and getting me sick, and for using my emotions as the back drop and the soundtrack of her life. What gave her the right? What gave me the right?

Why am I beating myself up over a lost cause?

The vultures ate the flesh from that dead unmoving horse centuries ago. She’s dead and gone. So was the entire Village of Opus.

Why was she still on my mind centuries later? I thought of her more than I thought of Zulu, my first love and my ex-husband. The one that ruined it for all the men that would soon follow his example in my life, and get the X when I inherit their wealth and riches, shutting their families out and eventually feeding on them all, erasing bloodlines as if they never existed, wiping them out completely.

His eyes enlarged as he hissed vehemently, spitting the paint towards me. I was startled by the oncoming onslaught. My mind boggled. I didn’t know what to do or how to react.

Once the black paint made contact with my skin it became boiling tar and gave me third degree burns. I screamed from pain, numbing the nerves surrounding my children so they didn’t feel an ounce of pain I no experienced.

I’d give myself a cesarean section and spare my children’s lives and sacrifice my very own if I had to, if I had only one option before I died, if that was the only thing left to do.

The paint clung to my garments and the porcelain of my skin like leeches and I quickly wiped it all off with the speed of light, my hands moving like synchronized swimmers with a bad sun tan, the pain of touch excruciating, the image of a lobster truly evident.

My skin was without blisters once more. The pain and the memory of paint and boiling tar a thing of the past.

He said, “Ye art more powerful than I thought!”

Enraged, he ran at me and punched me in the face and I flew a few feet backward, landing on my behind. My babies were angry!

They moved in a way they shouldn’t be moving, as if they were trying to tear through my womb because they were tired of waiting on my water to break. From instincts I knew they wanted to protect their mother.

My heart melted at the thought of someone or two beings protecting their mother from harm via their emotions and thoughts.

That became my life source.

It took a moment to realize he struck me. Yet he says he’s in love with me. I knew he was lying, he had to be. He already disrespected me and my body and now he leaves me abused and pregnant.

What kind of man in love treated a woman so viciously?

That wasn’t love, and couldn’t be love. I was wrong for even believing anything he had to say.

Fool Fool Fool! Shame on me!

I shook my head, my hair disheveled and disoriented. I was dazed at the present moment.

“Ye have amassed a fortune one cannot frown at. Ye have singlehandedly avenged the illegal slaying of animals of all kinds. I hand it to ye. Discipline ye have redefined. To have practiced thy discipline of the kill on killing the killers and murderers of precious animal life has been the best teacher ye have ever had.

“The churches and synagogues you’ve brought down have become legendary throughout the supernatural realm. Long after ye…vampires everywhere will know of ye and the legacy ye leave behind, since you’re giving it away because of thy new found faith in Christ. This journey ye travel has taught ye things I haven’t ascertained, things I never thought possible.

“Kleopha, please understand what I am saying. Look past my physical assault. I got a little too passionate for a moment, for that I truly apologize, but not for the action itself. I am frustrated with ye; I can admit what it really is.”

“But that gives ye the right to put thy hands on me, and to judge me, because I am living my life the way I see fit and ye can’t because ye worship a leader ye denounced inside the limitation of color of the rainbow.”

He was disgusted with me. It was written all over his gorgeous face. Dr. Jekyll met Mr. Hyde eight times in five minutes. His face was so perfect it seemed a bit disfigured, or was that me searching his face trying to find flaws, and finding not a blemish, not a mole, not a pimple.

“Looking past the obvious, and pushing thy feelings aside, this issue I have with ye, or what I must do I might say and must say and should say, whether ye like it or not, I will give ye an honorable mention to thy Council members when ye draw thy last breath.”

My senses were on high alert. He was threatening me, threatening the life of my unborn, and if he thinks I am going to take his attack lightly he was sadly mistaken.

He sucker punched me once already. It won’ happen again. The way he holds his breath before execution revealed his weak spot.

“Today has been a long time coming! And what a way to intercept ye talking to the wolves with thy version of an imposing war ye can’t begin to understand. This day and what has to be done must come to pass.

“And if ye protest or show the slightest resistance I will kill ye and our unborn children and write Amen in thy blood on thy tombstone: so be it.”

I faked a back ache. “And what is today, oh beautiful one?” I asked rhetorically, and said sarcastically. I was ready for any surprise attacks, I was ready for battle, mentally equipped to win.

I rose to my feet, brushing the particles of turf from my garments. He rushed to my side, taking me into his arms, rubbing my lower back.

“Is that better?” he asked soothingly, massaging my fake back ache. Ye damn fool. That told me he can read portions of my mind and thoughts.

When he was done we were on opposing sides again.

He made his point loud and clear. “Today is the day ye meet me for the first time.”

What the…?

I hope he wasn’t wasting my precious time. I had an agenda to fulfill. “I already met ye, Doneshius! Moments before and after ye ran off in a fit of cowardice I knew ye was a snake slithering through my ignorance. What art ye up to?”

“That wasn’t Doneshius, well yes, it was me, but a part of me. A foot dragon made in my image, if ye will. Something that represents me in a whole. Thy soul isn’t the only soul capable of leaving its physical body.”

I held my breath and really looked at him. My eyes zoomed in on his body and his erectness. For a moment he was unfamiliar to me. I knew him, but didn’t know him.

It dawned on me what he meant.

The form of Doneshius that led me here was Doneshius’s Soul.

And now I was talking to Doneshius’s physical body, I assumed.

He smiled bitterly. “His physical body ye speak to now. Doneshius’s Soul lured ye to this very point.”

“Does this…I mean I can’t imagine…” I couldn’t think! A great ringing sounded through my skull and brought me to my knees.

“Ye art becoming more and more human, so that mean thy pain will be greater and greater because of the void of supernatural and immortal protection. Norton has expired. The trial has run its course. Upgrades art unavailable. Ye have been fooled, bamboozled. Ye weren’t chasing me; ye were chasing my Soul, bringing ye to me as ordered. Doneshius ye met in the rainbow was my ghost. Doneshius’s Ghost. He impregnated ye after posing as the Messiah, and failing painfully. Ye have been set up, Kleopha. A booby trap this was. I spoke through him when he was speaking to ye so candidly. And yes, he was a gorgeous specimen.”

“So that wasn’t actually him speaking to me, but ye through the glow of his soul, that glow camouflaged by the most beautiful skin tone I have ever seen. Doneshius in a guise, or disguise, whatever label works for ye. Ye play foolish games, ye have no heart.”

“Don’t say it. It took a lot to get me to this point, a lot of loss and a lot of failure; a lot of tears and disappointment. There were a lot of expectations that faltered before the real birth of innovation. My greatest fear is the sight of ye.”

I wasn’t moved. “But why now? Why tell me who ye really art after hypnotizing me and casting a spell of confusion on me as well. Why explain yourself? If ye came here for a purpose by all means fulfill it, why all this lip? It’s falling on deaf ears.”

He said, “Deaf ears ye will never have, but the death of eyes suffers a greater agony of peril. As a child I thought as a child and killed as one as well. I was pulled against my better judgment into this meager existence of death and blood. I have to smell blood all the days of my life, never again will my nostrils know or smell fresh air. Ye have that luxury, I don’t.

“My beauty came at a price. Power and wealth came naturally to me…and the free will to do with it of my choosing since I was the age of three; the day I kissed my mother with love in my eyes and scowled, frowning at my father because he has tried to convince everyone he was the man of the house for years, yet he wanted to be a woman just as much as my mother was a genuine one, and he hated her for it, and she knew it!

“But he had no knowledge that she knew, and she used it to her advantage to get out of him all she can and stash it away, so when the day came he left his family for another man, or/and if he decided to sneak off behind her back and woo his lover’s rectum to a record deal, have his orifice singing upper soprano―he cleared his throat and sang, ahh ahh ahh e flat―she would have enough money put away to take care of me and herself for about eight months.

I said, “But she never got to use the money.”

He fell into a deep silence for a brief moment. I allowed him a moment of silence while I meditated with my eyes wide shut, meaning I left them open and focused on nothing. I was still thrown that a Beast obviously sent here to kill me was opening up to me like this was down town confessional without legal representation or doctor/patient privilege. Everything has a price tag, depends on who’s buying and selling, and what for. Nothing’s for free, absolutely positively nothing, but love.

He continued, blinking away tears. “In an instant, Kleopha, I killed them in pure blood.”

As the tears of his eyes turned to ash and pleasantly burned back into the skin of his immaculate face, he knocked me from silently meditating with his sudden response, picking up where he so abruptly left off, and I was disoriented for a moment.

He continued. “I used those little seedy green things, but during that time it was in liquid form, like what ye use to kill rats, and I poured some in mother’s cooking pasta on the burner while she was slow dancing with my father in the living room as if they didn’t have a care in the world. I hated the phoniness they displayed, putting on an act for my benefit and I already knew the deal and the source of their misery.

He paced a bit. “So I remained mum and slow-acting, making them think I couldn’t function as normal as everyone else, and I didn’t see how I did it, how I survived that bout of stress that was my so-called family during an era when computers was a thing of the future, but not in the homes of society, but the estates and dynasties of the rich were only granted such luxuries, until they figured out how to make society eventually dependent on them, make them public and reap the maximum profit; fire employees and replace them with mainframes, data bases and computers and cut down loss prevention by as much as 99%. Then send out the Trojan Horses to keep them coming back for upgrades, replacements and new purchases.

Sigh “It’s all a web of corporate lies, make-ye-broke-and-make-them-rich business that does everything other than make sense. Beasts I call them!

“And like them, greedy demons wearing corporations like a Voltron suit. I hated how my parents, like the smile of a politician, covered up their inability to communicate and wrote it off like a bad check in Europe. Life isn’t a Disney movie, Kleopha.

“It is about choosing whom to serve, God, Satan or yourself, and standing behind that decision and hope and pray ye chose the right one; from the look of things, and from what you’ve come into after being enlightened from thy breakthrough, and the knowledge and experience contained and incarcerated within, Satan is losing the spiritual war.

“There is only going to be one winner after the dust settles and the smoke clears, leaving thy eyes itchy and red with bags packed under them like cellulite. Chronologically 21, but ye will look 85 years of age with slight balding and lupus.

“The King of Kings, Lord of all Lords, Jehovah―” His lips twitched when he said the Lord’s name. “―will be the victor, even though I don’t fully believe in him. I’m sort of dabbling in the atheist pit of darkened, blind fools, who know what they do, but pretend the Lord knows not what they do, so there’s no neddeth to forgive or ask of it or even considering thinking of asking for repentance; I used to be one of them.”

His voice broke off and then came back with a vengeance.

He cupped my face and I cringed, prepared to take him out if he tried anything sneaky. I hissed, baring my fangs and he retracted his.

They rose back into his gums, out of sight.

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