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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/959939-Petrichor
Rated: XGC · Book · Horror/Scary · #2187629
Suitable refuse.
#959939 added May 31, 2019 at 8:54am
Restrictions: None
Petrichor
         "Dreamless dazes, mindless heads,
         do shimmy, shift, and shiver.
         Nameless nymphs, godless beds,
         do whinny, wilt and wither."
                   -The Vivoxia Ruqeflor, Book Three; 9:14
                              - Garveaux Translation




Slivers of blood drip from my lip as I watch her walk away.

Why do I let her treat me like this?

It's not like I'd let anyone else get away with treating me this way; if I don't do something soon, she may end up killing me.

Our relationship is unlike any I've had before, it's not sexual, it's not friendly, although that's not because I don't want it that way.

Somehow, I both love and despise her in equal measure; every week, we meet up in a dingy little room at the edge of town, I sit on the edge of the bed, then she starts laying into me while I continue to sit there in silence.

I can't explain it although when this mysterious beauty's slamming her fist into my face, I feel more alive than I've ever felt.

The best theory I've come up with is that we're using these fleeting shifts of power as some sort of temporary escape from the countless atrocious horrors that rage outside that thin wooden door.

Why else would two strangers act this way?



"Doctor Grover? Is everything okay, sir?"

I look up from the dirt road, into the stoic face of my superior, Major Alan Jenkins.

"Never better, Major. Why do you ask?"

What I can only describe as intrigue breaks upon his hardened face, twisting his distinctly masculine features as I nonchalantly sling my tweed jacket over my shoulder.

"It's just your face, it looks as if someone has been giving you trouble. If that was the case, I could have them taken care of for you."

His steely gaze remains squarely on my face; his chiseled cheeks twitch excitedly at the mere thought of enacting violence, reminding me just how deep his sadism dwells.

"I'm fine, Major. I had a slight tumble up the road a stretch, but I'm fine."

After an uncomfortable pause, the Major turned away from me and snickered.

"Okay Doc, if you say so. You understand that the success of this project is imperative, right? I'm sure I don't have to remind you what's at stake here?"

"Of course not, Major."



As I thoroughly scrub my hands in the little sink in my small operating chamber, I think of the picture that slipped out of her handbag when we met up last week.

We never talk about our real lives, although the crudely drawn picture of a stick-figure slathered in crayon shavings pointed towards her perhaps being a mother.

If she knew what we were doing here, would she still agree to meet me?

Two heavily armed soldiers lead three small children into the room, and strapped them down into the concrete chairs at the far side of the chamber.

Could one of these poor kids belong to her?

I shake off the thought and walk over to them as the soldiers leave.

"Hello children. My name is Doctor Grover, can you tell me your names?"

The one in the center speaks.

"I am Yuri, to my left is my little sister Inga, and to my right is my big sister, uh, my big sister, um. I'm sorry sir, I forgot her name."

My hand ruffles through the boy's hair.

"Thank you, Yuri. I think I've met your older sister before. Her name's Janie, isn't it?"

He nods.

"Well, are your ready to get started?"

The older sister grins and nods, whilst the younger ones stare up at me in fear.

I lean down to Yuri and whisper, "can you smell the rain?"

He nods again; I've caught another one.



Her slender fist flies at my nose, almost breaking it; violent bliss once more, and again.

She looks at me completely expression, just as usual.

I wonder if we could ever move beyond these strange encounters?

Hard knuckles meet my forehead, knocking me into that wonderful space between conscious and not.

One more to my temple slams me flat on my back, she straddles my waist and continues whacking into me.

This feels different somehow; it's almost as if reality has brought something strange in to interrupt our odd game.

She sits up and looks to the door, as do I; something knocks.

"Who is it?"



I awaken shackled to a concrete chair in my own operating chamber; beside me sits the mystery woman who only moments ago was pummeling my face in that filthy room.

Major Jenkins enters the room and slowly walks towards us.

"Care to introduce me to your friend, Doctor?"

I look over, then back.

How am I going to even try to explain this?

"I know how this looks, Major, and even though I can't tell you her name; uh, I mean, it's not what you think."

Jenkins sighs.

"How I wish I could believe you, doc. She's obviously one of them, and she's taken you as her thrall."

I struggle against my restraints as the Major reaches into his pocket.

"You don't think I'd know if, if..."

The woman beside me bestially howls, her head jitters, her eyes whiten, and her skin shrivels as her true self rises out of this humanoid shell's orifices.

A dark shadow beast, spews out of her but is quickly captured within the Major's containment cell which he swiftly yanked from his pocket.

"Jesus!"

I cry out; that undeniable rain-like odor hits my nostrils and I know my end has come.
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