《Heartthrob》


 Act One (Ch. 1) - Modern Graveyard; or A Vampires Footstool

    12:00 PM. Time to wake up.


    A sleepy blonde head shook itself free of the thick, cushy covers which surround it. The girl it¡¯s attached to yawned, her bleary eyes blinking away slumber¡¯s embrace. This girl is Esper James Price-Wynnfield: your average 23-year old office worker, living in your average hyperdense urban metroplex, eking out a living performing soul-crushing labor for the infamous ¡®Man¡¯ and whiling away her free time with trivialities and distractions. There¡¯s just one small difference to set her apart from the average urbanite.


    She rose to a stand, still nude save for a pair of ill-fitting boyshorts (she hasn¡¯t grown much since her teen years), and padded over to the bathroom. Her apartment is pitch black from the heavy curtains over the window, but this didn¡¯t bother her in the slightest. Daylight burns the eyes, of course. With the flick of a lightswitch she¡¯s illuminated, getting a good look at herself: the pale, soft skin; the tousled locks, golden-pale save for black-dyed tips; the red-flecked emerald eyes that stare like hollow pits in her face. She looked like a wreck, or so she thought. And then, she smiled.


    Thin lips pull back to allow a glimpse of her teeth - or rather, her fangs. Two rows of vicious, bladelike ivory razors fill her mouth, made to tear and consume flesh both cooked and raw. They had once been what you or I may bear, but irreversible fate had rendered them more apt for carnivorous exercise than a standard human''s own. Indeed, she could barely even stomach other substances, save for poisons like alcohol; after all, you could rarely poison what was already dead.


    Esper James is a ghoul. A flesh-eater. A walking dead. Ten years ago, a semi-trailer bisected her like a candybar and spread her caramel filling guts across the pavement. A beautiful chance at life turned to tragedy in an instant. She was scraped up and transported to the morgue, left to sit cold and dead and at peace, free of the rat race that was modern life. Here in Vitus, however, things don¡¯t always stay the way they¡¯re put when it comes to mortality.


    She begins the daily routine slowly and tediously, the special electric toothbrush gently polishing and scrubbing her maw as she contemplates the night to come. She worked, as mentioned, as a secretary for a company called Tsang Solutions, who specialized in helping people like her (The undead, that is, or the ¡®second-living¡¯ as their PR campaigns would have you call them). What this entailed wasn¡¯t exactly clear. Whenever she tried to dig deeper, however, wall after wall of propaganda, jargon, and security measures sprung up like weeds. After multiple roadblocks, she was content to leave it at that.


    Teeth? Brushed. Then came the shower, and the dressing, and the pills; bleak little black things with a bright red X upon their surface. These were the suppressants for her appetite - the appetite for her fellow man; to consume, to ravage, to befoul and to eviscerate until her unnatural gluttony was slaked. The second-living were mandated to take these daily, with legal repercussions if the regiment wasn¡¯t followed. Such repercussions began at fines, then went to community service, and then straight to lengthy prison sentences. Those who were too far gone would simply be taken straight to Tsang Solutions HQ, shuffled away from public view for eternity. Only dark speculation could reveal what happened to them past that.


    Tsang Solutions took a pretty purse from the suppressant business, the price gouging making insulin look like a corner-store convenience. Some ¡®independents¡¯ went broke trying to keep up with their usage, finding their home or work on the street-corners just to pay the piper at the local pharmacy. The only way to avoid this brutal extortion was to sign on with the very people who produced the pills, Tsang themselves, a cruel racket that was futile to oppose. They called the pills Fix-Ate; Esper James thought it was sort of funny the first time she heard the name. Now it just made her weary.


    A white blouse with a black tie and pencil skirt made her professionally presentable. Ebon heels and brown hose topped the look off and made her almost cute, if not for her exhausted eyes. Grabbing a plastic pre-wrapped package of the generously named ¡®beef sashimi¡¯ and a bottle of water from her fridge was the last task before she was out the door and plodding down the steps of her apartment. She stole a glance out of a smog-stained window as she descended the stairs, out at the heart of Vitus, at the hellacious scramble of city life, highways and alleys so clogged with constant traffic, the arteries of the city straining against themselves to pump even the most meagre trickle of vehicular blood through.


    Her own heart, so cold and yet still beating, felt that much heavier in her chest from the sight.


    -


    The sidewalk outside was only slightly less congested than the roadways, with throngs of bystanders hanging about like packs of wild animals. Like any smart resident of Vitus, Esper James kept a knife on her person: on her inner thigh, tucked into a garter, a foldable blade five inches long sat uncomfortably cold and heavy; however, she dreaded the potential of ever needing it¡¯s unfeeling company. The fear was as much for herself as for whoever she may raise it against - pills could only do so much.


    The streets of Vitus were littered with debris from constant construction and demolition, the careless citizens, and the ash from the factories. In a world where death was an inconvenience, people seemed to care less and less for their own safety and health. Go figure. She stepped over empty beer bottles and shattered glass, spent cigarettes and crumpled bags from Dougals¡¯ Snack Shack. A vagrant panhandler shook his tin cup at her; she looked away without a word, breath tight in her chest, words caught in her throat.


    Past crowds of leering humans and sneering vampires Esper James went, ducking between punks, vagabonds, and doom-sayers along the way. She could feel their eyes clinging to her when she walked: nicely dressed, only five-foot-four and walking alone in the bad part of town: she was a delectable hunk of meat dangled for starving beasts. Whenever a hand brushed her hip she tensed; whenever someone so much as looked at her she felt her cool blood run cold. More than a temptation, however, Esper James was an oddity - ghouls were the most uncommon type of second-living, their very creation an aberration in the metamorphosis of a vampire. A freakshow to the living, and a step below the ruling dead.


    And then, like that, she was at the door. Two glass panes with metal handles shaped like a vampire¡¯s fangs stood before her, the word ¡®TSANG¡¯ engraved into the surface in flowing traditional script. Her watch beeped. A minute late. Ten minutes of pay docked. Esper hurried inside, past the receptionist who barely looked at her, past the middle-managers who sneered at her and jeered as she nearly tripped on her own feet, and past the security guards who snickered as she struggled to slide her pass correctly.


    The interior of Tsang Solutions was just as imposing and deceptively monolithic as the exterior. On her first day she had been lost for an hour, and promptly given the scolding of a lifetime once she finally arrived at her workplace destination. Nowadays she could navigate the compound blindfolded through sheer virtue of wanting to avoid such an experience ever occurring again.


    If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    Into the elevator Esper James went, steel doors closing behind her with agonizing slowness. Tsang HQ had stairs, of course, but they were hell in heels; her office (her boss¡¯s office, technically) was on the 38¡¯th floor anyways.


    The office itself was a majestic, if dour and dark, locale: black marble and gold trim dominated much of it, run through with dark wood trim and flashes of red in the decor. The wage-slaves of the lower decks never got this high in the towering structure; this luxury was one of the only ones she was afforded. Rounding the corner to her manager¡¯s office, she ran head-first into something cool and firm and tall - as she stumbled onto her ass, her eyes locked onto a small metal name-badge that said ¡°JUDAS¡±.


    ¡°You¡¯re late.¡±


    -


    Through three sets of doors, in a small office of mahogany and crimson with bars on the window, two women now took up residence. One was taller and stood proudly: she wore a dark grey suit with red button-up and black tie; her hair was dark black and long and straight, like a waterfall of ink; her eyes were a deep crimson, her skin a gentle almond. She was lanky but leaned towards curvy where it counted, and her features were sharp, elegant, and well-rested. This was Judas, EJ¡¯s manager and direct supervisor - she was important, powerful, beautiful, and confident. All things EJ was not.


    The other woman was, of course, EJ. She sat in her chair at her desk, the large leather throne far too big for her. It only accentuated how small the blonde felt before the ravenette, the former¡¯s eyes glued to her feet, the latter¡¯s boring a hole into EJ¡¯s head. Two pairs of black high-heels faced one another in the silent office air, the sound of soft classical music drifting in over a hidden radio.


    ¡°So. Esper James. This is the¡­¡±


    ¡°Fifth.¡±


    ¡°Fifth?! Fifth! The fifth time you¡¯ve been late to the office this week. Let¡¯s not even address this month, for Heaven¡¯s sake. There is obviously a serious problem here, isn¡¯t there?¡± Esper James was silent for a long time, or so it felt; in reality, it was a few minutes. Judas drummed her fingers against her bicep, tapped her foot, and furrowed her brow - EJ just felt a droplet of sweat bead and roll down her forehead.


    ¡°Y-Yes¡­¡±


    ¡°Yes what?¡± Judas'' eyes narrowed further, her stilletto-clad toe tapping against the carpet with dull, thudding rhythm.


    ¡°Yes, m-ma¡¯am!¡±


    Judas¡¯s fist slammed down onto the heavy wooden desk, the slap of flesh against timber resounding through the small room like a gunshot. Esper James flinched visibly, the hot, salted sting of tears starting to well within her vision. Her hands balled up at the hem of her skirt, pulling it up inadvertently, teardrops beginning to bloom upon the cloth. They were a sad little rain for a sad little girl, and they vexed her for the weakness and fright they showed.


    She gasped aloud when Judas¡¯s slender hand took her chin in thumb and forefinger, sharp black nails pressing softly into the secretary¡¯s pale, forgiving flesh. Her gaze was raised to the horizon, while Judas leaned down to meet her - their faces were inches apart. EJ¡¯s eyes went wide, previous shame and embarrassment replaced by visceral fear as her gaze locked with that of her superior.


    ¡°Esper James, I¡¯m not a woman who lets such trivial problems interrupt my life. Do I make myself clear?¡±


    EJ couldn¡¯t nod quickly enough, the scent of Judas¡¯s breath and perfume - blood, tobacco, dark berries, and cinnamon - giving a heady undertone to her fear-clouded senses. Judas nodded in affirmation, her expression softening slightly; her mascara¡¯d lashes and vivid irises made her eyes look large and predatory this close, and it was no coincidence.


    Judas opened her mouth to speak once more, and EJ tore her eyes away from the other woman¡¯s only to catch upon her fangs: the canines of her mouth were slightly elongated, and her tongue was sharp and bestial, tapering to a pointed tip that she had topped with a silver stud. Vampirism¡¯s tells were more subtle than those of a ghoul, but they were present all the same.


    ¡°As such, you have two choices, effective immediately. Either you will promise me to make it to work on-time EVERY DAY from here on out, or you will face instantaneous and irreversible termination. Termination will break your contract as well, and render you liable for the consequences. I don¡¯t need to elaborate on what that entails, do I?¡±


    She did not. Termination from Tsang wasn¡¯t just a loss of a job - it destroyed you socially and economically. Officially, nepotism didn¡¯t exist in Vitus and there was no conspiracy between businesses. Unofficially, losing a position at Tsang meant you were blackballed into the darkest places of the city, forced to work dirty and degrading jobs or slip into the allure of a thriving and dangerous criminal underbelly. Esper James Price-Wynnfield was not the type of girl to survive in such a place.


    She swallowed hard, another stake of panic driven into her bleeding heart. Her life was already out of her hands; it had been since before she had died, to be truthful. Student debt, inability to find a job she could hold, bodily dysphoria which spread further than undeath, a strained relationship with anyone who still kept in contact with her¡­ Her current job had been a shot in the dark to even land, and now she was on the verge of losing it all. She grit her teeth, choking back tears as best she could, though she knew her employer could see them rolling hot and salty down her cheeks.


    ¡°Y-Ye¡­ Yes, ma¡¯am. I promise. I¡­ I won¡¯t show up late anymore. Ever. You can¡­ You can count o-on me.¡±


    The words were broken glass in her throat, but what else could she do? Staring up at Judas was like facing an angry, testy goddess, and she''d say anything to appease that diabolical deity if it meant retaining peace and quiet.


    ¡°Good! Then we won¡¯t need to resort to any extreme measures. Yet. Now, I have an appointment soon; I checked on your computer, since you weren¡¯t here to tell me. Once I¡¯m done with that, I expect you to take your lunch early to synchronize it with mine so you can accompany me. Got it?¡±


    EJ nodded, the ill feelings in her gut tamped down by a casual lunch ¡®invite¡¯. Judas never invited people for things; she simply told them they were coming, and they came. It was one of the few friendly gestures she offered her coworkers, much less her secretary, but the ghoul knew it was still an attempt. To her surprise, Judas smiled with satisfaction - and then leaned forwards to place a soft, brief kiss upon the distraught secretary¡¯s forehead.


    Vampiric hormones shot straight into EJ¡¯s system, a brief hit of dopamine to shatter the advance of her unease. She blinked away tears in dumbstruck awe that the gesture was even given, but Judas just laughed beneath her breath. ¡°Don¡¯t get used to that. I may be your boss, but I can¡¯t stand seeing you bawl. If you¡¯re going to cry, go do it in the bathroom like everyone else; in my office, you had better plaster a smile on that pretty little face of yours.¡±


    And then she was gone, having released EJ¡¯s chin, straightened herself, and walked away without even giving her pet ghoul a chance to respond. Perhaps it was better this way; another short burst of tears came in as EJ sobbed into the crook of her arm, the momentary euphoria she had received draining away to reveal the misery inside. She felt better, though, good enough to get through the day. Good enough to make it to lunch.

 Act One (Ch. 2) - The Jezebel; or, Bodily Purity

    The rest of the evening was uneventful, and she was thankful for that. Temporarily freed from the shackles of her employment, she stepped out onto the street with a new spring in her step. Judas must have felt bad for her: she had bought her dessert at lunch, a delicious sugared foie gras paste chilled to resemble ice cream. A little affection went a long way for the unfortunate ghoul, and she was already thinking of when she¡¯d need to sleep on Sunday to make it up for work in time. However, for now? It was EJ time. She scanned the endless streets of the metropolis, wondering to herself¡­ Where to first¡­ Where to first?


    The decision was a Friday-night classic: to some dodgy club to drink and revel and forget the weekdays. A timid walk became a confident gait as the nightlife of Vitus crawled from darkened alleys and shadowy structures: men, women, and what lay between all began to mix and mingle along busy, crowded streets. Food stands and alleyway bars sold meat both fresh and cooked, their sanguine aroma drifting into the night air beside the smog, the humidity, and the dust; doors to nightclubs were propped perpetually open by hulking bouncers with brass knuckles or beatsticks. A salary worker like Esper James could simply drift where she pleased, letting the night take her on a journey all her own. Her eyes roamed the busy streets with less trepidation than before; free from work, ready to play, she was nearly twice as headstrong. Emboldened by liberty of choice, she chose the first establishment her eyes landed on: The Jezzebelle Club.


    Standing tall and thin and inscrutably deep into the wall of buildings surrounding it, the Jezzebelle Club was a dark, smoky, thrumming hub of sound and strobe lights and bodies. Esper James breathed deeply as she entered, the bouncer at the door (a brutish ghast with a glass eye who sneered as she passed) having cleared her without a word. Blood lingered in the air, mixed with sweat, adrenaline, booze, and perfume¡­ Ghoulish senses kept her informed of everything. She could practically taste the cheap cologne from the dancefloor, and her eyes could pick out every face like a photograph. The Jezzebelle was, of course, a corpse-club; that is, a club exclusively for the undead, or those with a penchant for them. Some living mingled with the dead willingly or moreso; coffin-jockeys looking to go home with a vampire at best, or a zombie at worst. Necrophilia was slowly becoming vogue, depending on your definition of the word.


    The club itself was strikingly urbane; counterculture if only for the sake of it. Blacks and reds and neon hues were the dress code, with spikes, leather, latex, and denim taking up the majority of what parts remained clothed; EJ was horribly underdressed with her white dress blouse and pencil skirt, office chic versus underground runway style. It was only once a man in square sunglasses bumped into her and flashed his fangs that she realized she was still standing in the foyer, overanalyzing everything again. What blood she could muster formed a bloom in her cheeks as she mumbled an apology, scurrying away towards the bar - solid metal and laden with band paraphernalia, she struggled for a few moments to even hop up onto one of the hardback stools. The barkeep was busy with another patron, and so she took a moment to check her phone, trying to ignore the disdain in the looks of the clubbers who flanked her. No messages - typical. The only person who texted her was Judas, anyways; fat chance she¡¯d speak to her outside of work in the first place. A cleared throat made her turn her eyes back up, inadvertently locking them with those of the bartender - an ashen-skinned man with deep scarlet eyes and a shaggy black mop of hair. EJ swallowed.


    ¡°You look out of place, sweet thing; are you lost? Library¡¯s two blocks up the street.¡± His voice was deep and smoky like a fine cigar, the bass in it nearly drowned out by club beats. EJ cleared her throat, sitting up a bit straighter in her seat as she shook her head.


    ¡°No, no, j-just here for a drink. One axe-murder, please.¡± She bit her tongue as soon as she was finished speaking, fists balling with shame at just how timid she sounded. Vampires had that effect on people - making them feel small, scared, powerless, entranced. It was the eyes, mostly, but also their skin and scent: powerful short-range pheromones were brewed in altered sweat glands to entice potential prey into a sense of ecstasy, making them easy targets. The eyes then hypnotized with their jewel-like color and seemingly shifting patterns, a low subliminal hum from their voicebox causing them to be all the more hypnotizing.


    The man to her left elbowed her a bit harder than was playful, snickering to himself as he mocked her. ¡°Pwease! Such nice manners! What, mommy let you hit the town without her for once? Gotta remember your manners around strangers?¡± The cackling jackass had a few moments more to chuckle before a glass of water was dumped on his head, the bartender who held it glaring daggers.


    ¡°Hey, cunt, harassing the patrons is my job. Piss off back to the dancefloor or leave her alone. And yeah, one axe-murder, coming right up.¡± The aggressor opened his mouth to bitch about how his lovely satin button-down was soaking wet, but the bartender was already mixing up Esper James¡¯s cocktail; he instead simply gave her a disgusted, contemptible look before hopping to his feet and making his way out to the floor.


    Esper James watched him go with her tongue stuck out, emboldened by the bartender¡¯s backup. She turned back to thank him, but the drink was being thrust towards her before she could even speak. ¡°Here. Drink. Now. You already stick out like a lamb in a lion¡¯s den; if you¡¯re at least fucked-up on blood or booze you won¡¯t attract assholes like him. ¡®Least not in the same way.¡± She stared down at the concoction - rum, pig¡¯s blood (or donor blood at high-class establishments), black pepper, and energy drink - and took a deep breath.


    ¡°Oh¡­ Y-Yeah, sure. Thanks, by the way. My name¡¯s Esper James, but most people ca-¡± She was cut off mid-sentence as he spoke, the words dying in her throat as his own trampled over them.


    ¡°Save it. I just met you. No need for introductions right yet. Now, bottoms-up. I¡¯ll start you a tab, Esper James.¡± He was already typing her information into the cash-drawer, not even looking at her anymore. She didn''t have the option to argue her point, at least not now.


    Bottoms up. EJ was pathetically used to taking orders, and the drink goes back for a first sip like clockwork. Lips on the rim¡­ The taste of blood on her lips, her tongue, her palate¡­ Her senses flaring to shame a blazing pyre as it truly hit her. To the undead, the second-living, whom have been thrust into life anew, the remnants of ¡®true¡¯ life are euphoric to say the least. The flesh and blood of animals are second-rate compared to the forbidden thrill of human indulgence, to partake of one¡¯s kin, but for a little wagie like Esper James it was top shelf. She shivered as it went down, the heat and tang of the additives making it smooth and sumptuous for her inhuman taste array.


    Her muscle fibers swelled and became taut like a drum, every part of her shivering as the blood¡¯s hormones, nutrients, and essence dribbled into her own cold veins. Her eyes dilated then contracted, stomach balling into a knot, skin becoming warm. She¡¯d been starving herself, in a way - FixAte was a way to stave off cravings, but this was a way to satiate them, if only to a degree. The bartender watched like a bad influence as EJ¡¯s body reacted to the drink, eyes catching upon her thin, soft lips, her flexing biceps and forearms and hands, and her slight shiver as the elixir ran through her. He smiled, dark goatee covering it partway, his fangs adorned with faux-silver to appear plated. The bartender then put himself down onto the counter, leaning upon crossed arms; to EJ¡¯s surprise he spoke first without prompting, tearing her away from her momentary trance. His voice was rich and buttery now, the blood in her mouth and gullet and glass making her just that much more heightened in the sensory deluge. It didn¡¯t help that it was crammed with booze and stimulants.


    ¡°Alright, little lamb, how is it? You¡¯re lookin¡¯ like you¡¯re new to this thing, but somehow¡­ No, I doubt it. But I can tell it¡¯s been a while.¡± The bartender''s eyes were back upon her, inky irises rolling up and down her petite frame. It wasn''t the same predatory way some vampires would undress you with their eyes, but he was searching - watching the way her body reacted as the new blood contacted the old within her veins and gut, electrifying a tired physique.


    EJ nodded and met those dazzling, swirling red eyes, even that tidbit of tincture bolstering her confidence. She took another sip before answering, her saliva thick with the heady, peppery, sweet blood, her lovely ivories covered with red. ¡°It¡¯s good, just what I needed; a little more pepper than I usually like, but-¡± The bartender laughed to himself, a bit more callous than simple mirth. He smiled a bit wider, giving EJ a wink.


    ¡°You¡¯ll get used to it. A little pepper never hurt anyone. I¡¯m Roth - nice to meet you. Welcome to the Jezze. Keep drinking that and you¡¯ll grow up strong to play with the big boys and girls, ok?¡± EJ pouted at this, but still nodded along - she gave a gesture with her head to acknowledge his name, pout turning to a begrudging, cordial smile.


    ¡°Nice to meet you, Roth. I¡¯m Esper James, but you already knew that, I guess.¡±


    Pleasantries were exchanged, smalltalk following even as EJ felt her heart burning and her flesh moving in waves. Roth¡¯s eyes mesmerized her just as easily as they did any human, and he was friendly; a bit sarcastic and more than a tad snarky, but otherwise much easier to talk to than anyone EJ had recently had the good luck of conversing with. She found herself smiling, laughing, wasting time¡­ Wasting money. Tsang paid well, but only so many drinks could be viable, and she wasn¡¯t a big girl to start with. Somewhere in the mix of booze, bass, and bartenders she was given a bone to chew, now sitting at the bar with her top button undone, tie askew, bone-in-mouth and phone sitting barely-attended on the bartop. She was about to ask for another drink despite her eyelids barely wanting to open or close when she ordered them when something caught her gaze, stopping her words in her mouth - a flash of bubblegum pink out on the dancefloor.


    In the midst of thrumming sound and pulsing light, a splotch of pink stood out like blaze orange in a hunting-field. A woman was throwing herself around with wild abandon, getting up close and personal with various clubbers as she did: hips bumped on hips; laps were graced by a firm, barely-concealed ass; hands found bodies and bodies found one another. EJ watched her with mouth agape, studying her appearance, fair skin and pink hime cut complimenting a PVC and plastic ensemble bordering somewhere between cyberpunk and sex dungeon. The thick leather collar on her neck said ¡®PURITY¡¯ in large iron text, it¡¯s leash-hook shaped like a heart. A snapped finger from Roth took EJ from her drunken, horny reverie - she hadn¡¯t noticed how enamored she was until now, a few breaths cooling the roaring furnace within heart and loins. She pushed her drink away for a moment as Roth leaned in.


    ¡°Bad choice, lamb. She¡¯s not your type. Hell, neither is this place, but I mean it - you¡¯re just gonna get your heart broken at best.¡± His tone had turned paternal, protective; whatever he knew, he''d seen it before.


    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    Esper James threw Roth an indignant glance, alcohol delaying her words a fair few moments as she worked them up and sent them forth. ¡°Psh! Whad¡¯d¡¯you know? I can, uh¡­ I can be cool too, I guess? ¡®Sides, who I¡¯m lookin¡¯ at ain¡¯t none of yer¡¯ business!¡± Her tongue left her mouth in a childish gesture, but retracted with the sound of a yelp as Roth boldly and without hesitation reached out to snatch at it to chastise her.


    ¡°You¡¯re like, what, an accountant? I hate to gatekeep, but bitch, this isn¡¯t your scene. Maybe you¡¯ll have some luck - she¡¯s into dead people, so I hear - but you¡¯re getting yourself in over your head either way.¡±


    ¡°Oh, fuck off. Why does no one have any god damn confidence in me?!¡± Without another word EJ pushed herself off her stool - nearly falling to the floor as her legs tottered - and straightened up, heading out onto the dancefloor.


    ¡®This was a bad fucking idea¡¯ was the first and foremost thought in her head almost immediately - the crush and swell of bodies cold and warm was cataclysmic against her meager form, the strength to push through only bestowed from the copious amounts of blood currently taking her physique to it¡¯s physical limits. The scents, the sights, the sounds, the sensations, all of it came in the form of blatant sensory overload as the determined office girl ducked and wove between bumping and grinding, puking and passing out, and anything in-between. In Vitus, hedonism to the degree of self-destruction was standard fare for all walks of life; the only difference was the method. Finally, body damp with sweat and hair a tousled mess, she made it to where the object of her intoxicated affections was swaying her hips and seeking company. Moments ticked by in the blink of an eye while EJ thought of how to even approach, confidence draining away like abattoir excess while frantic eyes watched the other woman move - up until her counterpart opened her eyes, colored contacts hueing them a terrifying ice-white, and she smiled directly at the secretary.


    In a whirl she was swept up by the idol¡¯s black-gloved hands, the other woman standing at least half a foot taller than her and certainly less frail looking - she was curvaceous up close, her outfit revealing through translucent blacks and greys, her physique everything EJ¡¯s was not. And yet, here she was: pulling the blonde around like a marionette, directing her drunken motions to involve her in the party rather than push her away. She smelled like sweet fruits, wine, and candy; she pulled EJ close to look into her eyes, pupils shaped like hearts, lips confectionery pink. Her voice was barely audible over the grinding industrial beat surrounding the pair, but EJ could make it out: her name was Purity, but Puri worked fine. Esper James stammered her own back drunkenly, and Puri laughed; she remarked that EJ was a cute name, fitting for a cute girl. EJ smiled in return, but the warmth in her face wasn¡¯t the only place her still blood rushed.


    Dancing became a blur - Puri was more than happy to oblige EJ¡¯s curiosity and eagerness, and soon the ghoulette and the human were moving in time with one another as best one can to such music. If Puri could tell how bad EJ was burning up for her, she only added fuel to the fire; they spoke with their motions, their conversation salacious albeit almost one-sided. As the night progressed the crowd became thick and stifling, bodies packed like sardines - the pair finally took their leave back to the bar, where Roth had two drinks already awaiting them. His smile spoke more than words could when the weary wage-woman was helped to her stool, and the message was reinforced when her temporary tease tossed an arm about her shoulder and made their stools adjacent. Puri had something as fruity and pink as her hair in her cup - EJ had a bit of straight rum, to cut the blood-high from getting too overwhelming. Just as she was about to take a drink, Puri took EJ by the chin between two well-manicured fingers (thumb and fore) and gently swayed their gazes to meet.


    ¡°So¡­ EJ. First off, great to meet you! You¡¯re not bad on the dancefloor; I was getting worried that no one was gonna really give it their all, but you were a life saver out there~¡± Not true at all - EJ could barely dance on her own, and Puri pretty much guided her the whole time - but there¡¯s no way in Hell that Ms. Price-Wynnfield would ever admit that. Not when her ego was being so thoroughly stroked. She beamed up at Puri with her bloody fangs in full view, red-flecked eyes half lidded from the action; seeing the signs of her monstrous nature only seemed to pull Puri in, not push her away as it did some humans.


    ¡°Hellllllll yeah! I¡¯m a fuckin¡¯ party girl all the way, boo - I¡¯d never leave a cutie like you out to dry, haha!¡± Puri laughed at her counterpart¡¯s comment, voice like a sonorous bell through the auditory shitheap that filled the club¡¯s bar. She let go of EJ¡¯s chin only to caress her cheek, the cool latex a stark contrast to the ghoul¡¯s rosy flesh.


    ¡°A party girl, huh? I know what that means. I¡¯d buy you a drink, but you seem pretty fucked up already - maybe I¡¯ve got something else for you, yeah? You stay right here, let nice Mr. Roth keep you sitting up straight, and I¡¯ll bring you a little gift for being my dance partner tonight~¡±


    No way EJ was passing up an opportunity like that. Whatever this ¡®gift¡¯ entailed was going to be great, she could feel it - she nodded, but when she opened her mouth to answer, by time the sluggish words rolled across her tongue Puri had already disappeared into the furthest reaches of the club. Roth¡¯s hand reached across the bar to steady EJ as she went to turn back to him, finally slipping in a drink of her glass of rum. It was toffee flavor.


    ¡°Look at you, little lamb - or should I say little lion? Going out after your first kill like that, haha! Maybe you¡¯re not as soft as I thought¡­ though I wouldn¡¯t advertise it to everyone, y¡¯know.¡± A gesture from Roth had Esper James¡¯ sightline swinging down to her lap, where her skirt was propped up in a frankly humiliating fashion. She yelped as she went to adjust it, confidence taking a heavy blow as she considered that Puri had definitely been aware of just how ¡®into¡¯ their past hour or so EJ had been. Roth shook his head with a grin, rolling his eyes at her reddening face. EJ tried to distract herself from her shame with something else - the drink in her hands, to be exact. She sipped it again, smacking her lips before questioning Roth.


    ¡°So¡­ Where, uh, where¡¯s this from? Did I buy this?¡±


    ¡°Nope,¡± said he, head jerking towards something further down the bar, ¡°someone bought you one. How thoughtful of him. I closed your tab after the last one you bought, since you seemed like you had had enough, but one last drink to end out the night didn¡¯t seem too bad¡­ At least not when you¡¯ve got a hot date to impress, right?¡± More laughter, but this time it made EJ feel better, not worse.


    She decided to check down towards where Roth had gestured - looking to see a vampire with a long blonde mohawk, sharp features, and a smile like a predator hunting prey (all vampires kind of looked that way, though). He winked at EJ, who waved back in return before promptly trying to hide herself from view as best she could without making a scene. She looked to Roth for some kind of reaction, but he was helping another customer¡­ and again, for the first time in hours, EJ felt small and weak and helpless. Her hands trembled as the adrenaline of it all started to melt from her and the alcohol took its place, her timid heart sapped of it¡¯s previous stupefied strength. She was alone again - if only for a bit - with a stranger watching her.


    She looked down at her own reflection in the rum, taking it in: she was disheveled, tired, and sweaty. She was drunk, too, and her eyes were becoming bloodshot. Another sip, then another look: she was exhausted, to tell the truth, and sore from the dancing. She wanted to go home and lay in her big comfy bed, and she wanted to wake up fresh and clean. Sip. Look. She wasn¡¯t even interested in getting laid anymore - she just wished she could hop in a taxi and get home, but fear gripped her heart like a primal claw at the idea of being in her neighborhood alone at night, especially while drunk as hell. Another sip¡­ and she nearly fell off her chair, staggering backwards without even realizing she was disoriented. She only stayed aloft by virtue of a pair of gloved hands which held her by either shoulder, shifting to embrace her from behind as their owner pushed EJ back up and slipped closer. It smelled like candy - Puri, of course, was back.


    ¡°Woah, hey! You ok, sweetie? You don¡¯t look so hot; I mean, you know, like, health-wise. Here, just rest in my arms for a little bit. I got you that gift. I¡¯ll give it to you in a second, once you¡¯re a bit steadier¡­¡± EJ tried to mumble a response, surprising even herself that her lips and face felt so fucking heavy. The world around her seemed to be made of heavy water or syrup, and Puri¡¯s words came echoing through her noggin and dulled by the pounding of blood in her eardrums. Piercing the fog, the pink-haired partier¡¯s face was painted with concern - initially light, then quickly serious. ¡°Wow, shit, you¡¯re really fucked, huh? Come on, come on¡­ Stand up, even a little. I¡¯ll support you. Let¡¯s get you out to some fresh air, ok? No more club for a little bit¡­ you need to focus, just take deep breaths and focus on staying awake.¡±


    EJ blinked and they were out the door - another blink and she was sitting on the ground in the alleyway which led to the Jezze¡¯s entrance, Puri holding her in her lap while a few blurry individuals hung around them and inspected the office gal. Water was given to her, then some snacks, then a cigarette that Puri slapped away and yelled something muffled about. EJ couldn¡¯t care less - she was warm, being held by a cute woman, head resting on her supple chest, ass resting on her luscious lap, brain fogged like a broken smoke machine, being fed and watered without needing to do ANY work. It was awesome, in a way. And then¡­ darkness.


    When EJ¡¯s eyes opened again, she was in a cab, head laying on Puri¡¯s lap. Then again, being hauled up the stairs somewhere - somewhere that wasn¡¯t her apartment. If she wasn¡¯t so lethargic she¡¯d be screaming with panic at that alone, but she couldn¡¯t even muster a whimper. She blinked again, and now she was in bed - dressed in oversized pajamas, the lights dimmed, a warm body in lingerie sitting beside her and stroking her hair. Puri again; she could tell by the smell. Her sight may go and her hearing may fade, but EJ couldn¡¯t forget a scent. She managed one small whine before collapsing into her savior-captor, heavy eyelids dragging her down and shutting what eyesight she could procure like a heavy gate.


    -


    Esper James dreamed of a cat - a large, imposing cat, a housecat but feral for generations. In the savannah, they had the lion and the cheetah; in the highlands, the cougar; in the jungles, the tiger. Here, in the city, where rot and blood and smog and booze and money and bodies all flowed in the same river, there was this beast: this enormous, midnight-blue-almost-black creature with great yellow eyes and fur as thick as a bear¡¯s and then some. It stalked Vitus in the night and slept in the morning, leaving a trail of strangeness and fear wherever it tread; it¡¯s victims were changed beyond compare, if they even survived the encounter.


    Something told EJ it was looking for her.

 Act One (Ch. 3) - Coffin-Jockey; or, Cold and Warm Tango

    Morning. Or, rather, evening. Esper James awakens with eyes bleary, makeup smeared, and mouth dry. It takes her a few moments to even look around and see where she is: a comfortable but compact bedroom, with a large closet on one side, an expansive bed (which she currently laid in), and a notable chest of drawers amongst the rest of the common furnishings. To her right an indent in the bed spoke of a partner that had vacated not so long ago, barely-lingering warmth and saccharine perfume hanging about the sheets like a memory. Puri.


    EJ¡¯s instincts kicked from weary comfort to fear in an instant. Where was she? What time was it? What day? Had Puri taken her here? Other questions better left unsaid were assuaged with a quick check of her body - her underwear was untouched, the borrowed pajamas without ruffle or crease, and her dignity wholly intact so far as she could tell. A deep breath assisted in the steadying of her nerves, her hands going up to rub at groggy and dried eyes. She felt like shit. She¡¯d slept horribly and fitfully, despite how comfortable the satin pjs and soft bedsheets were, and her whole body had the lingering desiccation of a night drinking with no water.


    She swung her legs out from beneath the covers and dropped them to the plush carpet, taking a better look around. Grey synth-wood paneling trimmed with gold embellishment made up the walls, with the floor taking a comforting cream shag approach and the ceiling returning to faux gold plating in art deco style. A computer desk was set up in the corner, expensive-looking PC set atop it with a tripod tucked beneath. The desk is surprisingly clean, save for a pair of headphones designed to resemble animal ears. Cute, if you like that sort of thing. The rest of the room is quite sparse, strikingly so, and not much additional can be gleaned from it.


    Footsteps pace casually towards the door, and EJ quickly hops back into bed - feigning sleep but keeping as alert as she can be, ready for some perceived impending threat. The plain black door to the bedroom opens, and there stands Puri: plate of bacon and sausage in one hand, door handle in the other, wearing a sheer ebony nightie that would have made Esper James¡¯ eyes pop if they were able to see the other woman. Puri smiles gently and tuts to herself, padding over to the bed and sitting on her side of it, free hand covering herself once more. She gently shook EJ¡¯s shoulder, trying to ¡®wake¡¯ her.


    ¡°Heyyyyy, sleepy-head¡­ Wake up! Come on, it¡¯s one PM, time for breakfast! It¡¯s Saturday, I hope you don¡¯t have work or something¡­ Come on, I washed your clothes for you and everything. Open those eyesss¡­¡± EJ¡¯s eyes opened as requested, slowly and warily, until she caught sight of Puri and the food. Her stomach rumbled beneath the covers, and she couldn¡¯t deny her meat-hunger anymore. She reached for the food and was obliged by Puri, who passed it off with a kind smirk. EJ¡¯s hostess was free of the makeup and cosmetics she had worn last night, but looking at her now, she was still lovely - a comforting, feminine figure who had kept her safe from harm, took her in, and now fed her. The ghoulette¡¯s heart panged for a moment despite herself, eyes lingering on her perfect smile, teeth normal and white and human.


    ¡°Ah¡­ Thank you. I¡¯m, uh, a bit f-fucked up from last night. Could you get me some water, too?¡± EJ rasped the words out from a barren throat, weary eyes wincing at how shit she sounded. Puri simply laughed and nodded, leaning forwards to peck EJ¡¯s forehead, and - before EJ could even react, the blood still rushing to her cheeks in a blush - slipping out of bed. She walked away while the ghoul¡¯s mouth tried to form a response, settling upon closing with a bit lower lip.


    It was different than when Judas did it. Judas was sadistic. Controlling. Teasing. Dominating. Her vampiric nature was poured into everything she did, draining the life and energy and joy from all around her in a way only describable as addictive. She used her gifts to work EJ up and drop her back down, keeping her close only to cast her away again. But touching Puri had been¡­ normal. There was no rush of unnatural pheromones, no intense physical reaction, no addictive undertones - instead, her lips were soft and plump and left a lingering imprint of warmth on EJ¡¯s cool skin. She had smelled like last night¡¯s perfume, and had made the wayward little secretary feel comforted, not endangered. It had felt good.


    Bacon and sausage drained into EJ¡¯s mouth like so much meat for the grinder, fork ignored for fingers simply to sate that lust for sustenance. It was minutes and moments until she realized the fetishist had returned and was watching her eat with a coy smirk, pale contacts removed to show lovely blues. EJ¡¯s face reddened with slight embarrassment at her piggish consumption, but she smiled sheepishly rather than back down. She was a guest, after all - it was ok to indulge a little. A whole pitcher and glass were offered as EJ set the plate of meats aside, glass taken in hand before being filled and drank. Between a few more fillings and emptyings, Puri and EJ made conversation.


    Puri, born Purity Aloise Francharde, had lived in Vitus for four years. She moved there for job opportunities and schooling, but dropped out, and now stuck around for the night life and the locals. Second-living still remained almost exclusively in Vitus, and so - to EJ¡¯s surprise about how open Puri was with this info - Purity was swayed by her own preference for bodies more cold than warm. She was 20-some odd years old and preferred women, but had known men in the past. She rented this apartment independently, through money she earned ¡®performing¡¯. She got a sly smile on her face when EJ inquired further, and simply said she¡¯d have to find a time to have the ghoulette help her with her routine - that it would be ¡®a real moneymaker¡¯.


    Breakfast was finished. Puri sat beside EJ on the bed, putting the empty plate and glassware on a nightstand so she could get closer. It was just the two of them now. The sun had already begun to dip down in the sky, barely piercing the choking skyline, giving everything a twilit glow despite it still being early evening. The night was still young, as it is said, and so were the two of them: worlds apart yet here now, sharing a quiet moment. One cursed to eternal life, the other condemned to eventual death.


    ¡°You know, Esper James¡­ I¡¯ve been thinking. A lot, recently, but mostly about myself, and where my life is going. I¡¯m twenty-whatever, I¡¯m ambitious, I¡¯m fun¡­ and yet, I keep hitting walls instead of doors. I¡¯m getting blocked off instead of opened up to. I know we just met last night, but¡­ Well, I¡¯m happy you seem like you¡¯re having fun. I know I am.¡± Purity¡¯s smile was dazzling as EJ took in her prose, helping her relax into the cushion beneath her. The secretary nodded after a bit of stricken silence as the warmth in her chest welled into words. ¡°I know what you mean, Puri, like, exactly. I¡­ I dunno how to say it, though. I¡¯ve been here all my life, from all the way before people like me even existed, but these days I feel like I¡¯m stuck. Nothing I do seems to work, I never seem to be good enough for people. No one believes in me. No one even wants to try. Except you, I guess.¡±


    It was EJ¡¯s turn to smile now, her own pearly whites on display for the coffin jockey across from her to appreciate. Puri laughed softly, a hand over her mouth, her eyes crinkling with mirth. She rolled them before answering, leaning forwards on her left hand to look the ghoulette in the eye. ¡°Psh. You were good enough at dancing, right? Maybe not so good at drinking, though. I¡¯ve gotta be honest, I could tell you were new, and I didn¡¯t want to leave you hanging¡­ but you¡¯re cute. You¡¯re fun. You¡¯re a breath of fresh air from all the stale fuckers I see in my everyday. I¡¯d love to get to know you more, EJ - I mean it.¡±


    She did. There was something genuine in her eyes and smile and the tone of her voice, putting herself out there for EJ like a friend and lover, not a stranger. Her right hand slid out along the bedsheets to rest on one of her guest¡¯s, giving it a ginger squeeze. EJ laughed, too, out of nerves and delight in equal parts. It had been more days than were worth counting since she had felt this kind of affection: a true, heartwarming affection that came from within. She squeezed back with a wink. ¡°I¡¯m all yours then, Puri. Get to know me however you want.¡±


    Ah, the magic words. There was a change, then, in the way the pink-haired club girl positioned herself. The way she looked at EJ. The way the air in the room felt. Some of that electricity from the Jezze was back now, making every motion feel deliberate and notable. Puri¡¯s eyes rolled over EJ¡¯s slim body in a gesture only describable as hungry, and EJ could feel herself tighten up from the nerves. ¡°Maybe I will, EJ¡­ We¡¯ve got some unfinished business, after all. Don¡¯t think falling asleep can get you away from me this time¡­~¡±


    There was a pang in EJ¡¯s chest, her pupils drawing down into slits. Adrenaline again. She could feel that giddy uncertainty welling in her chest even as Puri got up to go to the window, drawing the curtains shut. The room was cloaked in a dim glow through the linen drapes - unlike EJ, Puri enjoyed the light sometimes, so they weren¡¯t completely opaque. The flesh-eater simply watched from the bed as her partner drifted across the room to set the scene: lighting candles, putting music on from a portable speaker, and pulling a smallish pink square from the top shelf of her dresser. That last item was thrown to the bed-bound ghoul with a lewd grin.


    EJ¡¯s heart caught in her throat like a fist, green eyes wide, tongue dry. A thousand thoughts were beginning to trickle into her dumbstruck and spellbound noggin: was this a good plan? Was this what Puri wanted the whole time? What would Puri do when they got undressed - would she rebuke her? EJ had more than just scars to hide. A body like hers knew love more rarely than most. Apprehension threatened to break her confident wave, to send her reeling away from what lay next and cast her out of the apartment through coarse rejection. It wasn¡¯t too late, or so she thought.


    -


    And then, Puri was getting closer. Despite wearing only a baggy band tee over black lacy lingerie, she looked just as confident and composed as she did at the Jezzebelle. Her hand reached out to touch EJ¡¯s hip, thumb hooking past the waistband, using it to pull the blonde closer. It was sudden, and a bit frightening, but she stopped before EJ was truly caught unawares. Inches away, breath crashing against one another¡¯s bodies, warmth from one echoing to the other¡­ Puri¡¯s other hand took Esper James by the back of the head with a tender grasp, pulling her close for an expression of interest. Puri took the lead, and her ghoulfriend was happy to follow. Their lips touched and locked, the blonde¡¯s nervous and excited and wary, the pinkette¡¯s confident and eager and bold. Puri shut her eyes first, and then EJ followed; their arms slowly entangled, no words necessary to announce what they both felt. Last night had been interrupted. Here, however, there was nothing to stop them.


    Kissing became invasive after some time, a cool and pointed tongue against one still bearing warmth, but EJ gladly allowed it. Puri tasted of rock candy and bubblegum and a soft undertone of diesel - some chemical intrigue that didn¡¯t fit quite right. EJ in turn tasted like blood, rum, and a bitterness that meant more than it let on. The pills kept away the rot and the brushing kept away the flesh, but the tang of a deeper imperfection was harder to mask. EJ was pushed back onto the bed, head pressing into forgiving pillows as Puri assumed a superior role. Lips separated without fully breaking away, tongues and hands maintaining connection as things intensified. The borrowed pajama top slipped away, and the pale skin beneath was exposed to the apartment¡¯s warm air.


    EJ is bared. Her chest is small and perky and pleasant but nothing special, though beneath the meat her heart is beating like a snare drum set to march. Looking lower, her ribs are nearly exposed beneath taut skin and thin, barely-padded flesh. She¡¯s been blessed with a slender and feminine physique, youthful and a bit athletic if she ever cared to put on muscle. Her tummy has just enough to it that you could grab it if you tried. Puri pushes off of her for a breath, taking in the sights with a smug grin. She rests her ass on Esper James¡¯ lap, grinding her hips left and right to tease the stiffness in her partner¡¯s lap. Esper James winces and whines, wordlessly petitioning for more.


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    Puri''s eyes widen as she realizes what she''s pushing up on, but they narrow again as a teasing grin spreads her plush pink lips. She had been aware since last night, of course - this was all part of the plan. The top took a second more to raise her hands over her head, giving her bottom a full view, before bringing them down to her own hips. A moment more before Puri was back on her, lips hungry and hands searching, seeking soft and untouched flesh to grope - she started at the ghoul¡¯s chest but one snuck lower, down to the waistband again, pulling insistently. Inside the secretary¡¯s head, her mind was ablaze with thoughts, feelings, and instincts. She could hear her own blood rushing.


    ¡®This is amazing¡¯ started the cascade of ideas, but was quickly followed by uncertainty and doubt. It was all happening so fast - was it always like this? Obviously Puri was genuinely into her; she hadn¡¯t had a drop to drink this morning and both of them were disheveled and worn out. This wasn¡¯t a drunk hookup. This was the real deal, or at least as real as EJ had ever known it. And yet, Esper James still felt like she was out of her depth, or at least out of control. Puri was leading her along as she pleased, taking what she wanted, and while EJ didn¡¯t disapprove per se, the taint of trepidation stained her enthusiasm.


    And then her womanhood was freed from the silky pajama bottoms, a standard size but admirable for her height, and her brain was back to a primal state. She may be nervous, but she wouldn¡¯t be the one to stop this. Not yet. In her mind, it was a once-in-a-lifetime chance to have sex with a woman like Puri: someone confident, sexy, kind, and built like a pin-up model. Someone who could get past it all. All the bullshit she had been putting up with. The pajama pants are greedily drawn down to her knees and then abandoned, Puri¡¯s own panties merely pulled aside for ease-of-access to provide a flash of bare flesh - shaved. EJ braced herself, biting her lower lip, both hands placed on Puri¡¯s ample hips¡­


    A crinkling sound snapped her from her preparations, one eye peeking over to investigate. That hot pink square was in Puri¡¯s hands now, torn wide open; a condom packet. EJ choked back nervous laughter - the undead were anything but virile, though sometimes it was better safe than sorry. She shivered as the cold latex was applied, and gave Puri a timid smile once it was fully embodied. Puri laughed back at her, her lube-free hand going to brush some hair from Esper James¡¯ face so she could be kissed on the forehead. The gesture was small, but it did much to soothe her raging anxiety.


    Those experienced, deft hands trailed away from Esper James once more, finding her again soon as they were placed on her shoulders. Puri used the ghoul as a support to position herself as necessary, straddling the blonde¡¯s lap, giving her a gentle tease as she did. ¡°Safe word is taxes. No one likes ¡®em, y¡¯know?¡± Puri¡¯s smirk at her own supposed wit was more than enough to get EJ smiling too, leaning back into the wall of pillows to give Puri an ideal angle. ¡°I dunno, taxes can be sexy. Like, uh, a sexy accountant, or an office lady, or something like tha-¡± Puri put a single finger over EJ¡¯s mouth to cut her off, rolling her eyes playfully. EJ was obediently silent - she had been rambling anyways, just stalling for time without knowing.


    Puri took a deep breath and, eyes locked with EJ¡¯s, lowered her hips with practiced motion. A split-second before contact, and then, the embrace. EJ¡¯s worried eyes shut, and she trembled as she felt herself fill her partner as best she could, Puri¡¯s bareness and flesh like a space heater for the cool-skinned cannibal. Esper James let out another soft whimper as Puri¡¯s body rested against hers, lower lip quivering as she moved to speak - but then she gasps as the hips on her lap begin to roll slowly and steadily, taking any thoughts of speech from her mind. Her eyes shut once more, and she¡¯s swept up in the rock and sway of Purity.


    It¡¯s a new experience to the submissive ghoulette. Her first time, the sensation of being so wholly enveloped in another - in Purity¡¯s arms, breasts, and femininity - is euphoric and overwhelming and surprisingly messy even so early. The bed is roused into rhythmic motion as Puri¡¯s hips buck, the taller and more confident woman doing the work , the smaller one relaxing into it. They went at a gradual but building pace, nothing too extreme or adventurous - good to start off, at least in EJ''s eyes.


    EJ sighs into Purity''s chest as she''s ridden, hot breath rolling from her mouth and onto her lover''s flesh. Puri''s gestures, her subtle tells and motions both voluntary and involuntary, they told the ghoul more than words ever could. The women worked in tandem to reach their goal, EJ''s loins beginning to wane weak in their action. She''s seen porn before, and plenty of it - but she''s no AV star, by any means. The feeling of pleasure was electric, holding her in place just as much as the weight of her lover''s body was.


    The bed starts to creak as she''s given her due diligence, rising and falling, body-on-body sound and touch drawing those faint vocalizations from both women in turn. EJ''s were warbling and fresh and surprised; Puri''s are sensual, pleased, and a touch husky. Sound doesn''t come naturally to the blonde; she''s too worried it''ll be distracting. Puri, however, is intent on teaching her.


    "Ngh... EJ... You look so good like this, under me... But I want more from you. Open up those cute little lips and moan for me. Don''t be shy; you''re a dirty girl under that soft exterior, I can tell. Now lemme hear it." A pointer finger and long fake nail touch upon the bottom of EJ''s chin, beckoning her forth - trying to pull the sound from her physically, to goad her into giving in. Esper James''s cheeks go rosy from the attention leveled onto her, but she complies wholeheartedly: a deep breath as Puri''s hips lift from her, and then a long, whining moan as she''s brought back down to the hilt. The lewd sounds of lovemaking mingled with Purity''s selected soundtrack, the drifting memories of club dancefloors and blood spiked with booze like migrant mirages in the ghoulette''s pleasure-addled mind.


    One moan became more, which led to gasps and coos and exclamations. Purity smirked when she felt her lover''s twitches and shivers of delight, beautiful blue eyes drinking in every inch of ghoulflesh she could see; her body drew in what sight could not. She had EJ wrapped around her finger completely, and that thought alone was wholly satisfying in and of itself. For her, this closeness was craving; this intimacy was both the journey and the destination, and the submissive little secretary was her vehicle of choice.


    A rising emotion - lightning crackled within EJ''s body as pleasure went from tender and fluid to harsh and electric. Excitement and ecstasy were twin serpents, and their coils entwined our protagonist as deftly as Purity''s thighs. Her muscles tightened in her chest, her arms, her abdomen, her loins... Another quivering exclamation declared what words could not. Puri didn''t even miss a beat, lowering herself further to press chest-to-chest, her body flush with her quarry''s.


    Words were unnecessary. The feeling of a heightening, a rush, a peak, a climax... and then the descent, gentle spasms in the thighs, the little death for one already dead. EJ cried out, eyes shut tight, tears of emotion welling in the corners; Purity held her and whispered sweet encouragement into her ear, coaxing every drop free, experienced hips gyrating in just the right way. It only lasted a few moments, as such things do, but to EJ it was a lifetime of bliss.


    And then, near-silence. Heavy breathing and barely-audible club beats were the symphony of the morning, played out between sweaty sheets and gasping, rolling bodies. Puri lifted herself away after a few moments and took the liberty of disposing of the evidence, letting the ghoul simply lay and languish in the afterglow of carnal action. EJ''s heavy eyelids remained shut, focusing on the sensation within her hips and hereafter, hands drifting to wipe at some of the wetness on her waistline.


    +-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-++--+-+-+-+-+


    Snuggling and aftercare were delivered in spades: the touch of flesh-on-flesh now different, free of sexual implications but still beholden to a deep sort of intimacy. The music was switched off, their clothes piled on the floor, the blinds now opened to let in twilight''s dearest embrace. Outside, Vitus seemed to be in a miraculous lull. No screeching cars down the interstate... no junkies brawling in the backalleys for food... no blaring adverts demanding your undue attention. Purity lived in the nice part of town, but to EJ, it was a whole other world.


    The secretary was the first one to speak. She cleared her throat, face pleasantly close to Puri''s in their tangled mass, emerald eyes turning tentative focus upon her fling. "So... th-that was, uh..." She wasn''t sure what to say; or rather, she was unsure what to say first. Amazing? Exciting? Terrifying? Anxiety-inducing? Unexpected? Uncalled for? Now that her finest warrior had settled between her loins she was given some time to actually consider the interaction, and yes, Puri had obviously been interested in her since last night... but was this how it was supposed to go? Virgin no longer, EJ still was too green to the hookup scene to say for certain.


    "Pretty good, right? Hahaha...! You''re not what I expected when I headed out last night, EJ... But I''m happy I snagged a cutie like you." A kiss was laid upon EJ''s cheek then, soft and sweet, and speaking of better times. It was a footnote for a midday morning of lovemaking, a sign that things were back to normal. Puri was smiling like a smug cat, eyes narrowed and lips parted in a cheshire, prideful grin.


    EJ left it at that, nodding absentmindedly. It was good. She didn''t have much to compare it to, nothing except for the love of the self, and that wasn''t the same. A sudden realization hit her like a ton of bricks, and fear gripped her heart with sharpened claws. "Puri, where''s my shit? My clothes, my phone, my wallet... Where the fuck did you put my stuff?"


    "Oh? They''re in the kitchen on the table. Go get dressed if you wanna; I''ve gotta get breakfast anyways. I''d love to take you, but I''m meeting my manager, and he''d be pissed if I brought along last night''s entertainment." Apparently that was supposed to be cute, because Puri winked and stuck her tongue out like it was. EJ gave her a nervous smile.


    And then the pink-haired woman was standing, letting EJ see all she cared to, the club idol surveying her prey. "Anyways... I''m gonna get in the shower. I hope I can see you at the club again, yeah? This time I''ll help you keep an eye on your drink, cutie... I left something in your purse, by the way. A few somethings. Keep in touch."


    A kiss blown to the wind and she was gone. EJ was left alone in the bedroom, body damp and hips tired, mouth dry and tasting like diesel candy. She struggled to her feet despite how tired she still remained and wandered out into the main room completely nude, assuming correctly that Puri lived alone. Her outfit was freshly cleaned and neatly folded on the main kitchen table; it was quickly donned, the purse saved for last.


    Puri''s apartment was nice and comfortable. It was affluent but nothing too crazy; upper-middle class and enjoyable without being luxurious. Whatever she did, she certainly did well for herself on it. Even EJ, who was paid pretty well, still had to live in the slums.


    The purse was opened, and inside were all of EJ''s possessions plus a few extras: a folded slip of paper, a flat black jewelery box, and a... gift card? The card was the first to be inspected. A dark black and sleek piece of plastic, it didn''t say much about what it was for: LDG.com, for a whopping $200. There was a code to input on the back. The paper was next. A small scrap of printer paper, it had Puri''s phone number as well as a pair of url links and a code - one was for LDG.com, and the other was for tAsT (''Tasty'', a popular social media client mostly used by Vitus''s youth). The code apparently had use for both.


    She''d check them out later. First... She needed to get home and get some food, a shower, and think about things. She couldn''t get Puri''s scent out of her head, but in the back of her mind, a cat''s purr rolled out like a funeral march. EJ shivered, going to open the box. Her heart leapt into her throat as she saw what was within, emotions only recently stowed now drawn back up with resounding force.


    A black leather choker, simple and sleek, with a heart shaped ''ring'' as the centerpiece. It looked like it might fit nicely between her fangs. She swallowed once, then twice, implications and ideas driving her tired body back into a quick burst of nervous adrenaline. She was tempted to try it right away... but a buzz from her phone interrupted her. Apparently she had missed a serious amount of texts and calls from Judas, even though it was her off day. The collar-gag was tossed back into it''s box and slipped to it''s resting place within the purse, phone following behind it. She''d respond to Judas later. First, she had to get home.


    As she left the apartment, EJ couldn''t help but feel as though something was coming. An approach. A descent.

 Act One (Ch. 4) - A Brief Interlude: Master and Expert

    -


    As EJ went to leave, her pink-haired partner stepped into the bathroom. She was nude as birth and dappled with sweat; a well-curated figure the product of endless hours of purposeful exercise, dieting, and self-care. She looked in the mirror and smiled a lovely smile, one she had practiced to perfection. One she used to lure in her marks, to comfort them, to disarm them.


    To deceive them.


    This was Purity Aloise Francharde, the gambler, the influencer, the persona. She was a lover, a liar, and a thief; a performer, a temptress, a devil. She worked her wiles with intellect as keen as a razor''s edge, and she had never failed in her task. She couldn''t afford to. She let her smile fade, thinking back to the earlier liason with her most recent target, a fondness mixed with the natural distaste for the distanced dispassion of it all.


    Purity sighed, bright eyes falling down to her hips to reminisce. She had been taken with EJ - one of the first in a long time. It was sad to see her go, especially in such an impersonal, rushed way, but she didn''t want to let down her defenses. Not yet. The moans and gasps and whimpers of afternoon delight rang yet in her ears, and it made her feel empty. Used. Hollow.


    Ring ring. The phone in her medicine cabinet - her work phone - was ringing. Puri''s heart felt icy claws envelop it, and her whole body tensed. Pink-nailed fingers daintily reached out to open the door and extract her condemnation, slowly putting it to her ear. Adrenaline pumped in her veins already, blood ringing in her ears; her pupils were pinpricks, the dread confrontation striking her as physically as a roaring locomotive.


    "H-Hello?"


    The other line was silent for one moment, two moments, three moments, four. Sweat from sex and stress beaded at her brow and rolled to her chin, where it dropped to the cold tiles below. Finally, a voice came through the line, and Puri grit her teeth not to shiver at it''s frigid tone.


    "Progress report, operative Francharde."


    Puri took a deep breath, eyes shutting for a mere moment to gather her thoughts. How had they known? Was her apartment bugged? Was EJ working for them? Or could they just tell these things? Her employers were more than resourceful, they were vicious, cruel, brutal - they wielded their power like a surgeon''s scalpel to cut free opposition and chaff that didn''t fit into their worldview. With a stammering voice, she began.


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    "Twenty-three. Caucasian. Born and raised UNAC. From the accent, I''d guess Northern Maritime region, possibly Nova Scotia. It''s light, however; probably didn''t live there forever. Five foot four, just barely. Natural blonde, spring green eyes, red flecks. Alabaster-pale skin with light freckles. Petite physique with acceptable proportions for chest and genitalia. Teeth well aligned and no notable physical flaws or birthmarks. Interestingly pointed tongue - unusual on her strain. Potentially variant. Phobos-gene Ghoul, nearly full Vampirism - something must have gone wrong during the process, potentially a faulty gastrointestinal facilitation system, or whoever performed her reintegration fucked up and used low-standard options. Would suggest an investigation into that. Blood type AB+."


    Silence. Processing. Informational input. Puri had memorized every last detail of her quarry, and could have spouted even more if required - but that was all she was told to do, all she was told to say. Her duty was simple but strenuous, and punishment for failure was vicious. She swallowed to whet her dry throat as the silence stretched on with torturous perpetuity, staring at herself in the mirror: naked, damp, quivering, shameful. She wished to be free of all of this, but the collar that bound her in sway was far tighter than physical bondage.


    And then, the voice.


    "Affirmative. Two thousand five hundred UNAC notes have been added to your savings account. Mail the requisite provisions to your designated handler for the rest of your compensation. Understood?"


    Puri breathed a sigh of relief - this was good. Favorable, even. She had snagged a high-value target, and her employers were pleased. This alone would pay her rent for a few months, once she got her money for shipping out the rest of the crap: the water glass, the plate, the napkins, the condom, the pajamas. Phobos was popular, and niche; they were a splinter strain of Mars-type, notable in the scientific community for their resilience and longevity... and hunger. The latter didn''t matter to buyers, and since there was evidence of further striation within her genetic makeup, she may even be a further sub-type. That would be even more valuable.


    Puri snapped back to reality to clear her throat and answer the phone, still a bit of a frazzled blur within her own head.


    "Understood. Thank you."


    The voice on the other end was just as chilling and cruel as before, but when it returned, there was a tinge of something more: amusement. Satisfaction. Pride in its own power, in the way Puri yapped like a lapdog to respond to her master''s call. She almost thought she could hear a smile in its dead intonation.


    "Satisfactory. Tsang Solutions thanks you for your cooperation."


    -

 Act One (Ch. 5) - Heartcake; or, Eat It Too

    Out into the world again, breathing that Vitus evening air. Her lungs barely registered the smog now - second-living like her were naturally resilient, especially to man-made hazards such as industrial pollutants. This, on top of a naturally accelerated healing factor unique to Ghouls, made Esper James as a stone wall to the more abrasive elements of Vitus weather. Acid rain burned the clothes but only chafed the skin for a few moments; smog was filtered and lung damage merely a tickle; sun and heat couldn''t bother fostered cells being replaced too quickly to become cancerous, their replication mechanically facilitated.


    EJ found her stomach rumbling and turning in her gut, roiling beneath the flesh. How long had it been since she last ate? Blood wasn''t food for anyone but the hyper-efficient Vampires and their optimized gastrointestinal system; for the rest of the second-living, meat was what''s for dinner. Going to scan the horizon for somewhere to chow down, the still-weary ghoulette realized that she was absolutely lost.


    Purity''s apartment building, the shiny and chrome Tansengren Tower, was the only recognizable landmark amidst the sprawl. Before her, the systematic slog of Vitus''s highways and byways seemed thin and loose; fewer cars moved here, and fewer still were the street-people. These were businesspeople, politicos, and journalists; they were the kind of person who wore a suit and tie and didn''t think about how much their dinner cost. They leered not at her as she passed, nor did they accost her; the knife on her thigh was free from her mind as she walked aimlessly down the sidewalk, dreaming of where to go or what to do with her Saturday.


    ''This is what it''s like'', she thought. ''This is how rich people live. No junkies... no creeps... shit, they''ve even got those little things on the traffic light to tell you how long you''ve got to cross. Damn nice.''


    This dull line of thinking was cut through by a hammering-in of earlier thinking: what the fuck did Puri do that she lived here? She hadn''t seemed that aristocratic, but then again, EJ''s main introduction to the ''ruling class'' of Vitus was Judas. Judas was a beast of her own league, an untamed animal, a force of nature. Puri was more like a painful truth wrapped with a sweet lie - easy to accept, even if it hurt. Fantasies of the pinkette''s probable position began to unfurl within her munchies-mongering mind: was Puri the daughter of some rich bureaucrat? Was she a powerful executive? Could she be an actress, or a producer? Maybe some kind of meat packaging heiress, or even a CEO?


    "Well, she did pack my meat, haha..." EJ said it softly to herself, smirking at her own immature remarks; perhaps the drink and drugs weren''t completely free of her system as of yet. Her thoughts are interrupted, however, by another growl from her stomach, followed by a sharp pang of hunger. She had been out of it all for hours now, far too long, and even though it had been only a few since she had a proper (and sizable) meal, she still yearned for more. The life of a ghoul was never silent, it seemed. Food was next up on the list of priorities, even moreso than getting home... she felt more comfortable here, and so she was in no rush to do anything other than chomp down some grub.


    Emerald eyes scan the horizon, gazing for eateries - even here in Vitus''s upper-class neighborhoods, it seemed butcheries were popular. Butcheries, previously butchers'', butcher''s shoppes, things of that sort, are a sort of ''restaurant'' unique to Vitus''s anti-life: a mix between an abbattoir and an izakaya, they provide hot and cold flesh-based dishes for the second-living to partake in both casually and formally, standing or sitting or even to-go. Alcohol being one of the few other things the second-living can consume in notable quantities means that it''s often served there as well. Low-class butcheries may be found offering cans of beer and wine coolers alongside pork hocks, chicken wings, and Korean BBQ, while upper-class establishments will serve aged reds with kobe, foie gras, and prime rib.


    The first one that grabbed EJ''s eye was Chang''s Chop-Stop, an average-looking butchery boasting their new ''Hot Sesame Sinewdles''. Sure, it was a bit of a cheaper option, but EJ didn''t actually carry much money on her... And she had no idea how much she had spent back at the Jezze that night. An open tab was as much a treat as a trap, and she felt like playing it cautious to ensure she could get her rent paid. Meandering over to the beat of a bawling belly, she pushed open the thin canvas drapes that composed the door and stepped inside.


    Instantly, the scent of those sinewdles hit her like a thrown brick, making her nearly double-over in painful hunger. The aroma in the building was spicy and oily and intoxicating; it was rich, meaty, and savory. Hints of lime juice, ground sage, and sesame oil coated her hyper-sensitive tongue as she went to take a breath - she salivated despite herself, pointed tongue roiling as a caged serpent against her pearly white oral prison. God, but she was so needy... The gurgling of her gut propelled her forth, sliding herself into a booth.


    The building itself was a compact single-room eatery, with a semi-circular bar on the left half and booths lining the walls everywhere else. Lighting was orangish and warm, fairy-lights hung from the low rafters and strung up with paper lanterns and pictures of favored customers. Detailing and decor were East Asian, but restrained, and the furnishings were composed of dark wooden booths, a black marble bar, cherry-wood trim and paneling up till midway on the walls before being replaced by faded cream wallpaper. The table Esper James sat at was old faux-stone, with the words ''JUN LONG WAS HERE'' etched by steak-knife into it''s plastic surface.


    Soon, a server was with her: a young-ish woman with long ebon hair, sharp features, and the hint of a tattoo poking from the collar of her white dress-blouse - a tiger''s paw, reaching up to slice her jugular. She popped some bright pink bubblegum with a loud snap before offering EJ a menu, eyes occasionally flitting to the disheveled ghoulette as she stalked away. EJ didn''t even have a chance to nod her head in thanks. The menu was raised and read - however, something quickly caught EJ''s attention, drawing her eyes from the laminated sheet of noodles and meat to a TV sitting at the bar.


    "... in the West Tsurain district of our lovely city. Just last night, a once-sleepy neighborhood filled with the city''s largest population of zombies was rocked to it''s core, both figuratively and literally, as a massive explosive device was detonated from the heart of the Churika Budget Housing Complex. This incendiary attack, which has since completely immolated the entirety of the housing complex as well as spreading to a variety of surrounding complexes, is believed to been perpetrated by a prolific terrorist organization known as the Knights of Saint Lazarus. This group..."


    The visuals were mortifying, but EJ couldn''t tear her eyes away. An entire housing complex burned to ash, just like that: the rubble was little more than a soot-filled crater. The police couldn''t even cordon it off, because firefighters were tackling the blaze surrounding it - footage was being taken by drone, showing some brave or foolhardy souls (relatives, most likely) digging through the ash and cinders, trying to find any remnants of their loved ones or belongings. It was no use. Oranges flashed and soot rose like a hateful mist from the burn-site, a black stain on Vitus''s filthy canvas, the bonfire of buildings and souls calling out as a beacon into the nighttime sky. EJ guessed if she went outside right now, she could probably see it piercing the smog.


    And then, the perpetrators: the Knights of Saint Lazarus. A militant radical group of the venerable Order of Saint Lazarus, a Catholic Chivalric Order dedicated to helping the sick and needy, especially lepers, the Knights were not cut from the same benevolent and non-violent cloth. Waging a war of terror against the second-living of Vitus, they believed this to be the natural next step of their call to ''cure disease'', the disease being undeath, the cure being eternal rest. Images of their colours and their uniforms flashed across the screen: white shield with green cross, emblazoned with a simple sword dripping a single drop of blood made their sigil; dark black combat armor, accentuated with full-encasement LED helmets made up their raiment (sometime with capes bearing their crest). To the second-living, these were the faces of true death - to fall at their hands meant no more chances.


    "...ousand dead, with approximately three-hundred still missing. This is the third attack this month, with citizens asking both VPD and Tsang Solutions Securi-techs: when will it end? When will we strike back, and protect our own from these violent and hate-driven attacks? Vitus is known as a city where those untethered by life''s cruel grasp can be free to live and find the pursuit of happiness, so how can we stand idly by as our very ideals, values, and populace are threatened so callously? This is Martin Thurgstrome, signing off."


    EJ felt a new roiling in her stomach - one of revulsion, and anger, and fear. This was a group that not only hated her, but one that would kill her, permanently, given the chance. To slay a second-living is no easy feat; their bodies are extremely durable and can regenerate from major trauma that would easily slay a true-living. The most notable way is fire, as flame-damaged flesh requires rapid surgical intervention to prevent permanent damage; after fire is drowning, and then finally, complete liquefaction (ideally through acid). Some second-living did choose to end their own eternal lives, with euthanasia and liquefaction being paired for a painless complete-death.


    "-y bitch! What the hell do you want to eat?!"


    Esper James snapped out of her morbid reverie to see the waitress from before staring at her, balled fist on her hip, the other one holding her phone. She popped her gum even louder than before, thin eyes narrowing at EJ, chewing with her mouth open.


    "Oh! O-Oh, uh, shit, uh... the teriyaki-bourbon crispy beef, please. With a side of those sesame sinewdles." EJ offered a sheepish false smile, her nerves still frayed from the considerations of death, now splayed further by confrontation. She could feel what little blood remained rushing to her cheeks as embarassment crushed over her, the tumultuous torture within her tummy now ceased by her bashful nature. She wondered how long she had been staring at the screen, zoning out...


    "Tch. Ok. It''ll be out in a bit. You want a drink?" The young woman cocked her head to the side, sass rippling through her very being; she raised a single pierced brow as she made work upon her wad of gum with no care for the sounds it made.


    "Ah, yeah. You got grape shochu?"


    "Yeah, yeah, sure. Only got Tsang brand. I''ll bring it out in a sec; we don''t have cups, though, so you get the can." And then she was strutting away, her hips swaying with every step, the phone she used to take EJ''s order switched to the red-white-gold homepage of tAsT.


    Oh, fuck. That''s right. Now that she had some time, EJ''s mind snapped back to the gifts from Purity: the gift-card, the codes, and the collar choker. Might as well use this lull in the action to investigate. Out came that tAsT code, entered into the ''SEARCH FOR SNAX'' function first. No dice; she was shown an empty cardboard meal box, with a sad-looking monster (the site''s mascot) rubbing it''s empty stomach. Undeterred, she tried the ''FIND A FEED'' section, holding her breath as it loaded and refreshed. This time she yielded results: a Feed, or chat server, called ''Purity''s Princesses''. It looked pretty normal, and only had a few users. A mystery solved, though to a pretty blaise result.


    However, EJ noticed something - she was instantly assigned a new role on the server as a moderator, or ''Feeder''. Multiple channels appeared after a moment with a multitude of purposes, most of which were mundane, though a few under the ''Purity''s Fave''s Only'' section were strangely named: LDG_Links, Food_Links, and the ominously named HUNGRY_HELP. These chats EJ was unable to access, locked and barred behind a jail-wall motif, their names greyed out. After tossing a greeting into the social channels of the server, she popped back to her browser.


    She typed the next lead into her phone: LDG.com. Loading... Loading... Loading... A black screen with white trim appeared, with various boxes displaying womens'' faces and usernames all across it. Many appeared to be ''live'', though there was no explanation or even notion of what they may be streaming. A section for a code was in the left side, one of the only interactive parts of the site - she entered in the jumble of text Puri had written for her, and when she pressed enter, all the faces-in-boxes disappeared. All save for one, with a bright pink hime cut, streaming out of her grey-walled, cream-carpeted bedroom. Purity.


    Just as EJ was about to click it to see what was going on, there was a clearing of throats. She looked up to see the woman who had taken her order staring at her with mild distaste, arms crossed. Behind her was a man of similar age but about a foot taller, nearly 6''3, carrying a large platter of food: a heaping fake porcelain bowl filled with dark brown beef strips dripping with sauce, a just-as-enormous bowl of steaming orange broth, and a can of grape TSANG-A1 shochu. She slipped the phone into her purse, gut just about roaring at the sight of sustenance, her face contorted into a polite smile.


    "Here''s your food. Enjoy it, or whatever. And stop growling at the table, you fucking weirdo, you''re scaring the other customers."


    The plates and drink were set down wordlessly; as soon as it was dispensed, the pair returned to whatever dark hole they had crawled from. EJ was left alone with her lunch-dinner, the urge to feed nearly prompting her to take the candied beef in her hands and eat it directly. Chopsticks were quickly procured from a paper packet, snapped apart, and stuck into the first bowl. Her stomach nearly wept with joy at the very sight of it: thin strips of beef, marinated then fried in corn starch before being mixed with hoisin sauce, green onions, a splash of peanut oil, and a touch of salt and red pepper flakes for an extra kick. It was sweet and tangy, a dark molasses-like flavour with savoury hints, the umami of the beef and hoisin acting as sticky bricks to build up a house of tastebud tantalization. The green onions and salt broke it up just enough that you wanted another one as soon as you had finished the previous, and Esper James could feel herself sobbing gently into the meal as she sated her infernal flesh-craving.


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    After plowing halfway through the beef, she swapped to the noodles. The broth smelled like a raging fire for one''s tastebuds, but it burned so good: sharp lime, striking chile, subtle notes of creamy sage, savory MSG, and floating globules of nutty, scalding-hot sesame oil combined to form a brutal elixir. The shrimp broth base helped give the noodles (made from vigorously repurposed sinew to resemble rice vermicelli) a meaty undertone along with the other inflections, drawing it all together to become a wholly delectable option for one who consumed the meat of beasts alone.


    Her shochu... was grape-flavored. And alcoholic. And a bit cold, but it could''ve been colder. She was satisfied with that, though; no need for a can of artificial grape booze to be notable or breathtaking. The meat was the star, anyways.


    She took to the meal like a wildfire to drybrush, her petite body seemingly too small to consume it all, and yet piece after slurp after gulp rattled down her windpipe with such speed and racket as to shame a stone dropped down a well. The meal was finished in record time; when she was finally free to wipe her lips with the cloth napkin provided, she was mortified to see that some fellow butchery-goers had stopped paying attention to their own viddles to observe her assault on hunger. A timid wave sent them all back to their own meals, but she couldn''t shake the feeling they weren''t just watching her because she had a big meal. Was it because she was, well, you know...?


    Whatever. Who cared? Other than her, of course.


    -


    Esper James strode back out into the nighttime air with a renewed outlook on life, smiling from ear to ear, browsing over her phone. She had already paid for her food, and so she now had the full night ahead of he- oh, fuck.


    10 calls, 17 texts from Judas. Oh fuck. Heart-in-throat she found a side-alley to duck into, phone raised to her ear and held in a trembling grasp. Judas was going to eat her alive for this. She hadn''t purposefully ignored her, but... Her day had been so busy. So distracting. She had slept in late, had breakfast and made love with a beautiful woman, been, uh... scared by the news... had a big dinner...


    Shit. Maybe she hadn''t been busy all day. As she contemplated what excuse she''d use, the phone was picked up, and a very uncharacteristically frantic vampire picked up. Her breath was hitched and unsteady, and her tone was wary - worried, even. Concerned.


    "Uh... E-Esper? Esper James? Fuck, are you ok? Did you see the news - I, uh, I think that fire hit your apartment building. Please tell me you''re alright. I''ve been... I''ve been trying to contact you all day. I heard the explosion, you know; it was a few blocks down from my gym..."


    EJ was taken aback. Judas was worried about her. Not just minor worry; she was distraught. She thought EJ had been injured, or worse, killed. The fact that her apartment may be fuel for terroristic arson was filed to the back of her brain for now; she had other matters to attend to first and foremost, like calming down her employer and assuring her she was very much un-alive and very much ok.


    "Judas! Yes, Judas, I-I''m ok! I''m fine. I''m fine. I was, well, I was out with a friend; we stayed out all night. I spent the night at her place. I''m ok, though, I promise - no burns, no cuts, no liquid, nothing. I''m all in one piece." EJ tried to smile as she spoke, the gesture carrying through to her intonation - the sound of her smile, reassuring and warm, did seem to help her worried taskmistress. Judas sighed with weary relief, clearing her throat away from the phone before responding.


    "Shit... Ok, good. Perfect. You know I need you, EJ. It would be so hard to replace you. Where are you now? I''ll send you some cash to relocate, or at least get a hotel room. Here, I''ve already put the transfer in; don''t worry about it, I''ll only take a portion of it out of your pay, my treat. I''ll see you on Monday. If you end up needing anything else, well..."


    Judas was silent. EJ was silent. They languished together in that long, awkward pause, one waiting for the other, the other waiting for something. Judas finally continued, nearly under her breath, as if embarrassed of the very assistance which she now offered.


    "...just let me know. Call me. I''m your boss, but that means I''ve got to take care of you. Tsang cares about it''s employees more than some people appreciate, and the same goes for you. Now, I''ve got something I need to do, but I''ll keep in contact, ok? Make sure you sleep somewhere safe tonight. Those fucking crazies are probably still out there."


    Click. No goodbye; that was very Judas. She was always bad at friendship, at intimacy, at kindness; this whole interaction had been uncharacteristic in the extreme. EJ sighed a deep sigh, the weight of her diaphragm like lead in her chest - everything was happening so fast. Was her apartment actually burnt to a crisp? All her stuff... All her clothes... Everything she owned, up in smoke. It was enough to make her knees weak, and she stumbled deeper down the alley, trying to be away from the light and noise of the streets and stores.


    It''s a few hours before EJ pushes off of the wall she had been leaned on, dissociating, lamenting her own luck. Every time something went right, two things went wrong; she felt like crying, like calling out for help. She knew no one would come.


    After a bit, she called a cab to take her home, or at least as close as she could go. The police presence had lessened now, down to the central fire only; most outlying fires had been extinguished. Her own apartment, the Kehler Complex, looked as though it had seen war. Whole rooms were exposed to the elements, walls were crumbling in some places, and the wounded or dying lay around wherever they could to get free of the devastation. The 25''th floor (approximately) looked somewhat in-tact - that was where Esper James'' apartment had been. Where it may still be. She just had to get there. Some hope flickered in her tender heart like a candle''s flame, just barely daring to believe she may not be so fucked as she believed.


    Walking this street wasn''t so friendly as it had been last night, when all the night-goers were out; tonight it was sparse and dark, the explosion damaging the electrical connection for many of the nearby streetlights. Once more, EJ felt that same old fear of walking the sidewalk, alone and unattended; the knife at her thigh was little comfort in this pitch-black night. She slipped through byways and alleys she knew by heart, her common shortcuts on a daily commute, and was nearly to the foot of the building when a hand reached out and clamped itself on her shoulder.


    "Hello, little lamb. I''ve been looking for you."


    EJ screamed, whipping around, stumbling away from the hand and it''s owner. In the moonlight, her ghoulish eyes could just make out the figure: the guy from the bar, the one who had confronted her when she first sat down. She barely remembered him; he seemed to remember her.


    Greasy black hair slicked-back, thin moustache trimmed to a point, he looked as though he wished he were a rockabilly but settled on sexual predator. A vicious maw of lovely teeth was accentuated with four sharp, bestial fangs - the mark of a vampire. Of her better. Her superior. What she was supposed to be, but had failed at that, too. A forked tongue rolled out to lick his lips as he leered, his comparably imposing body looming over hers.


    "Oh, that''s what he called you, right? The bartender. Roth, I think. I don''t really go to shitholes like the Jezze a whole lot, but, well... Every once in a while, I get lucky. See something pretty. Something that catches my eye."


    Dull horror formed a pit in EJ''s stomach. She had assumed it was the man who bought her a drink, or even Puri, who had drugged her; even Roth seemed more likely somehow, this man who she had only met in bitter passing an unexpected variable. Had he been waiting here? Searching for her? Hoping she was still weak and tired from whatever he put in her drink? She was still a bit weak, to be sure, and that hunger she had felt...


    He took a step forwards, just one, but EJ flinched as though she had been struck. She scrabbled away, pushing herself with palms and heels, fight-or-flight kicking in; she had chosen flight. As she bumped into a trashcan she yelped again, inspiring her aggressor to mocking laughter. A shaky hand flew to her thigh to produce the steel blade, holding it out towards him, though it was futile. He was a vampire; a steel knife against one of the blood-drinking ilk was like a match to a raging flood. He stepped closed, and closer, his feet now on either side of her knees as she wept and shook her knife.


    "S-STAY AWAY FROM ME! I... I-I''ll scream rape! I''ve got a whistle in my purse, you fucking piece of shit! You h-h-had better back off r-right... right... right now...!"


    She trailed off pathetically, the man above her still smiling, still laughing, still leering. Her words meant nothing. Her threats were hollow. She was at the mercy of a cruel stranger, despite her own strength and instincts; this was a new and fresh hell, a terror before unexperienced, a plight that plumbed the depths of despair which the secretary had never considered.


    "I''ve been looking for you, y''know... that pink-haired rave slut snatched you up for herself, warmed you up for me, but I''ve finally got you alone...~"


    She knew what happened next; the object of her nightmares, the focal point of paranoid fantasies which had inspired the knife upon her hip in the first place. Vitus was a big city, and crime was rampant - there was no secret that predation occurred in all forms, from the eating of flesh to the stealing of innocence to the ending of lives, sometimes in combination. In desperation she struck out, stabbing this evil man in his shin, twisting the knife even as she sobbed and bawled.


    "Agh! Bitch! You little fucking whore, you think you can just fucking get away with that!?" He flinched, but didn''t draw away - undeath dulled physical pain, and a small knife wouldn''t do anything more than pain to a vampire. As she tried to pull it out of his bone the man raised his opposite leg and drew it downwards, combat-boot clad foot smashing into Esper James'' face. Her nose practically exploded in blood and pain and concussive force, rattling her brain and bruising her pale skin and splattering viscous red across her white blouse. He lifted his foot while EJ reeled, stomping down again, and again. Her hands flew in stunned, awkward motions, trying feebly to block his attacks; this wouldn''t, couldn''t kill her, but temporary damage was still damage. As the blows stopped she settled for sobbing into a bloodied mouth, spitting out a few chipped fangs amongst the goo, right eye already starting to swell.


    "Fucker...! I''d say ''be a good girl and I''ll go easy on you'', but you''ve already missed your fucking chance on that one. But hey, look on the bright side - maybe with all that brain damage you won''t remember anything! Hahaha- ow, shit..."


    The man leaned down, ripping the knife free from his ankle and tossing it aside. As he knelt down, there was a ruffling sound - through bleary eyes, Esper James saw something black drop from a fire escape above the pair of them. There was a steely rasp, metal-on-metal; the man snapped to a stand, vampiric senses alerting him to the unseen danger, whirling around with inhuman speed, ready to throw a punch at whoever or whatever interrupted his evening plans. For a mere human it would be nearly impossible to dodge, much less properly respond to; if they were struck by it''s full force, it would be devastating.


    There was a whisper of static in the air, and then a crackling, and then a blaze of pale white light. A long and shining blade rippled through the dark night air like a vengeful moonbeam, electricity arcing off of it with all the constrained fury of a caged beast, feral and hateful. Silver found flesh, and spite turned to abject horror for the man as his hand was bisected between two knuckles, undead skin condemned to true death by Tesla''s gift as the blade shimmered through flesh like butter. The blade lodged between radius and ulna, wedged into his humerus - the man had a moment to howl in agony and horror before the sword''s wielder slammed their free hand into the outside edge of his forearm, snapping the bone and knocking the blade free.


    It sliced through dead flesh to flense the would-be abuser, silver length glowing with lightning imbued. The blade was wound back overhead now, the vampire''s eyes flashing with every emotion EJ had been going through in but a moment - he only had time to sputter out a brief shriek before his head was split in twain, foul black blood half-cauterized from electric heat, brain matter and skull shards making up the confetti of God''s most pitiful pinata. The sword drew free as his body slumped to the ground, slowly leveled towards the dazed ghoulette.


    Esper James could only raise her hands feebly, a lone sob making its way from her sore, choked-up windpipe. She had already begun to recuperate - a ghoul''s body was the most resilient of all, and had an enviable healing factor - but she was nowhere near fit or lucid enough to combat an attacker of any sort. The fear of true death clutched her by the viscera, her whole unlife seeming to slow down. For a brief second, she wondered if it was better this way. She had never been good at this, at life. Obviously luck wasn''t in her favor.


    Maybe this was for the best.

 Act One (Ch. 6) - Hard to Hold; or, Confrontationally Challenged; or; Insert Third Title Here Please

    The strike that hovered in the air never came. Silver hung like God''s own lightning-bolt, poised to deliver a slaying blow, but the hand that held it was stayed. A voice reverberated from the full-encasement helmet, modulated beyond recognition - they were for all accounts androgynous.


    "Get up. Now. I won''t kill you if you comply, but I don''t have all night."


    Huh. Orders from someone other than Judas. That''s a new one, for sure. EJ''s bruised brainpan struggled to put two and two together until that blazing lightning-rod was gestured up. Her ears may have been ringing, but the eyes still worked - sort of. The left was swollen, but one eye was the bare minimum, not two. With a huff of phlegm and tears and blood and shattered ivory, she made an attempt.


    Wham!


    And just like that, EJ was quite literally floored - her already broken and bleeding-black nose splattered further blood onto the pavement with a stomach-turning squelch, and she screamed in agony and distress. The helmeted figure, however, just sighed. A strong hand clad in black-plastic combat gloves shot down like lightning to take the collar of EJ''s shirt and hoist her up, as easily as if she had been a wayward plastic bag or a piece of refuse. From the way the hand recoiled once she was wobblingly upright, perhaps she was refuse.


    Through a bleary eye, EJ looked down at herself. Her white shirt was ruined, absolutely: the clotted, roiling, living black-blood of the second-living was splattered upon her shirt in ways that reminded her of inkblots; this only added insult to injury, because seeing her parents fighting was not what she needed right now. Before she could find time to sob about the loss of her once-lovely officewear as the blood seeped in and ate away at it, that glowing sword was once more brandished. Her attention snapped back to her savior-captor.


    "Ok, so, here''s what''s going to happen. You live around here, right? You''re going to take me there, and then we''ll discuss what comes next. Simple. Easy. Move it." The stranger was insistent, to be sure, and more than a little bit brusque - however, what choice did EJ have? That sword was ready to rip her to shreds in an instant, and this time she''d have no way to crawl up out of her grave. This time she would lie eternally placid. The first few steps were easy - the ones to follow were harder.


    With one hand on EJ''s shoulder and the other on the hilt of her now-deactivated blade, the stranger helped the secretary stay upright as the two of them snuck around what few alleyways remain between where they had been and where they aimed to be. Further off, towards the main blaze, the sound of sirens began to die down. Firehoses died and went silent, and chatter faded away. They were cleaning up and leaving. No one would be able to find her or help her. The thought formed a ball in her stomach, one that only grew more dense when they reached the door to her building. It had been smashed open by desperate undead in their hurry to escape, and now the complex''s main entrance lay ajar like something from a horror movie. Lobby music played to an audience of two in the barren foyer, but it was only a pit-stop for the pair. They were off just as quickly as they had arrived.


    To the stairwell, then up. Flight after flight disappeared in time, and soon they had arrived at EJ''s floor - the ascent was lonely, no one to intrude upon them. The lights in some areas didn''t work even before this whole ordeal, and so now that the building was riddled with fire-damage, much of their trek was by memory through stretches of sheer darkness. It gave EJ the creeps, like something was watching them - something yellow-eyed and monstrous. Something the size of a motorcycle, or more.


    "What the fuck... do you pay... for fucking rent? Whatever it is, you''re... Getting robbed..."


    The terrorist''s panting breaths punctuated their sentence with minute pauses and inflection; EJ''s muscles were mostly tireless in situations like these, but it was obviously a bit different to do when one was dressed in battle raiment. Black carbon-fiber combat boots clopped up the stairs with heavy tread, their wearer''s gait winding down as they climbed ever higher in the apartment complex''s concrete-and-steel spire.


    Finally, finally, they were at the 25''th floor. This high-powered hitperson with the blade and the boots was seemingly extremely worn by the jaunt upwards, but upon seeing Esper James timidly step out of the stairwell and beckon them to follow along, they are emboldened. The sword is away at this point as well, keeping the mysterious murderer''s hands free, and their instrument of death away from instant reach. Hopefully. One could never be too sure with some of the technology that these people could acquire or self-invent, and EJ had a distinct feeling that a portable sword-launcher wasn''t too outlandish...


    "Fuck... Ok. Where''s the apartment? We''ve got to get inside before the police realize that we''re still here and start canvassing the area; you''re gonna lock the door, tell them you''re sick with Corpserot but that you''ve got your meds for this week. Cops are on order to let you poor bastards lie if you''ve got rot."


    ''How do you know what the cops are on order to do?'' The first thought to pop into EJ''s head nearly spewed from her mouth, but she held back on the sass for now. She was still at this other person''s mercy. However, the thought was good to cling to - showed she was recovering, that she wasn''t as dazed. In an hour or so she''d be right as rain and fresh as flesh.


    The second-living of Vitus are in many ways like fictional undead, you see - many similarities are shared and remarked upon by true-living and second-living alike, satirized and fetishized and idolized in equal measures. Silver, the mark of purity, is a deadly thing to them - it burns their flesh in an intense and potentially lethal allergic reaction, causing dead-but-living skin to necrotize and putrefy. Most second-living avoided it like the plague, but a select few preferred it for this fact; they wore silver jewelry to burn the skin and create a ''silverscar'' of black and dead skin which hardened like stone. It could be remedied through surgery, but this was costly and intrusive.


    Similarly, Vampires could not see their reflection due to a stunt in the brain of self-recognition - instead they saw a strange blur that looked vaguely humanoid. Pictures still worked, though, and so special video-mirrors were sold. Ghouls and Ghasts were able to consume meat which was rotten or fetid without distress, a mutation of the gastrointestinal optimization causing them to become the goats of the carnivore scene. Zombies were functional even when missing sections of their body for extreme periods of time, including life-essential regions (most undead were similar, but even a severed spinal column could not fully incapacitate a zombie).


    However, one additional feature was present in every one of Vitus''s blessed, accursed few: regeneration. New flesh was built from memory, organs crafted wholesale by blackened blood, even damage once thought irreparable such as lobotomization being trampled underfoot in the body''s rush to become perfect again. How this was possible was trade secret, and Tsang guarded the mysteries of undeath and it''s attainment with unparalleled ferocity. People no longer paid any mind when gunshots rang out near the main HQ.


    The door was pulled open slowly, fearfully, EJ''s heart caught in her throat at the impending destruction she was sure lay before her. The ruinous blaze had surely caught all of her stuff within it''s ravenous onslaught, and yet... No. Smoke had damaged some of the banana-creme wallpaper, and a bit lingered in the air, but other than that it was fine. She could have wept for the safety of her belongings and the security of her place of rest, and tears did well in her bruised eyes, but she could wait and cry later. The pair hustled in, the door locked and bolt thrown behind them.


    The assassin headed straight for EJ''s balcony, throwing the glass sliding-door wide and letting out both the lingering smoke and the heater''s hard work. They breathed in the fresh air with a greedy inhale, holding it for a few moments before it rolled back out of their nostrils. Human, of course; EJ didn''t even acknowledge the cloying pollutant in the air until her guest did first. The blonde stood in the corner like a cowed animal or attentive maidservant, hands together and at her lap, head gently inclined. She gave off every appearance of a dog who had known beatings.


    "A-Ah... Sir? Miss? Whatever you are, uh... It''s the middle of November. Could we maybe... Close that? Or at least open a window instea-"


    The words blocked her windpipe as she choked on them, the knight''s turned head striking her with fear. She shut her mouth and waited as the other person turned to look at her, dark black cape fluttering in the gentle breeze the open door provided. Words did not come immediately - instead, the knight strode right over to the secretary, stopping less than a foot away from her. Gloved hands raised up and flicked miniscule clasps on the underside of their turtleneck, a hissing sound escaping as she used both palms to remove the masklike helm.


    First, a feminine face, skin the colour of hot cocoa on a cool winter evening. Her eyes were shut, but the rest of her features were elfin to the point of nearly being impish. A distinctly cute button nose sat flanked by a light spattering of freckles, and a single scar marred the otherwise fetching, tomboy-ish appearance: a pair of slashes down the right cheek, as if she had been scratched by an animal. When she opened her eyes they were ruby red and shimmering, obvious implants; their LEDs were set to low, but models like these could become literal headlights if necessary. Finally, her hair: a mop of shaggy, spiky white that had been butchered into a rough bob. It was as alabaster as the moon and obviously cared for, and all of her breathed of the life that Esper James''s own body had forgotten.


    "Shut up. You''re alone in this apartment for the next few hours, got it? But before then, ground rules are these:


    One. No talking to me unless I speak to you first.


    Two. You are to get me some of your casual clothes, and I''m going to wear them. I can''t be in this shit all night.


    Three. If I see you reaching for any kind of weapon, trying to get any kind of assistance, calling anyone, shit like that? I will kill you. I''ll make it the most painful fucking thing I feel inclined to do at the time.


    Four. Final one. I might be here for an extended amount of time, so the rest of these rules will apply indefinitely until I tell you otherwise. If this is a problem for you, please refer to rule three.


    Got it? Are we good? Can you remember all that, twerp?"


    Esper James was... shocked, honestly. She was having her own god damn apartment co-opted by a literal undead-hating, vampire-murdering, sword-wielding terrorist. The fact that she obviously followed the New Way was icing on the shit-cake, what with her LED eyeballs and honed reflexes. She could see it in her mind''s eye now: news headlines about how one of Tsang''s own was aiding and abetting a deadly extremist in her own home. Hiding her from the police. Buying her clothes. Cooking her food.


    Damnit, that made her sound like this bitch''s wife.


    She found herself nodding, though, because she had no other choice. A hand went up to absentmindedly re-adjust her healing nose and came away bloody, wiping it on her already-black skirt. The woman across from her smiled, and her teeth were just as terrifying as the rest of her: thick fangs like sharpened spires, made of darkened steel and sharpened to intensity. The glimpse was brief, but EJ had begun to put two and two together. The other woman began to speak, her utterance less frightening than her visage.


    "Great. Good girl, blondie. Do you have a name? Actually, blondie works for now. Maybe BB, for blonde-black, like your... No, you get it. You get it. Ok, well, anyways, I''m gonna go shower - fix us up some dinner, or order something. You''ve got a slot on the door, you can receive it through there."


    Yyyyyep. Wife. Indignity and frustration swelled within the ghoulette''s chest, but she bit her lip before she could spit her spite. The black-clad tomboy''s eyes crinkled in mirth as she caught EJ''s repressed offense, a finger going out to poke her quasi-captive on the nose. She was surprisingly gentle, her touch upon the captive''s cartilage barely even noticable - but it still left a sticky black film on her fingertip.


    "Boop. I''m Esthrielle, by the way. Esthrielle Moonshadow. Oh, and you can close the door, but keep a window open or something. This smoke fuckin'' blows."


    Without waiting for an answer, Esthrielle spun on a cocksure heel and strode towards the bathroom like a smug baroness. She certainly was a haughty bitch, eh? As the bathroom door shut, EJ let out a whimpering little expression of frustration and helplessness, tears once more welling at her ducts. There was nothing she could really do to keep this woman from ordering her around - unless she wanted to get turned into ash. Vitus didn''t really do graveyards.


    -


    Dinner was just some herring sashimi with soy sauce and glasses of water. EJ knew her way around a kitchen knife after a decade or so of practice, and so the fish cutlets were fairly pristine; the plating needed some work, and she didn''t eat veg so she had no garnish save for some sticky rice, but it was nice enough for a night at home.


    ''A night with a guest'', she internally grumbled. Guest was a generous way to say it. After changing into a loose white t-shirt with a chibi cat on the front and a soft pair of red-plaid sweats, she had spent the last twenty minutes in the kitchen shivering. The night air was cool and still - she had heard a few gunshots that she could only assume were police sweeping for Knights and finding a few, but none came to her door. Part of her wished they''d swing by with a warrant and bash their way in to find the murderer in her bathroom, but a prickling fear that that would be a bad course of action prevented outright action. The sashimi was placed on the table with little flourish or fancy; it wasn''t meant to impress.


    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    EJ took a look around her apartment wistfully as she snapped a pair of disposable chopsticks in half, taking it all in - remembering what it all looked like. A living room-dining room combo, where she sat, was connected to the kitchen and gated foyer (where her shoes were laid); a hallway also ran down from the living room half to lead to a bedroom, a bathroom, and a study. Decor was sparse and not overly pricy, but the apartment was comfortable, lived-in; it reminded her of her college days. Part of her bitterly acknowledged that was probably because she was, physically, still college age.


    The door to the bathroom clicked and swung wide, faux wood panel cast open to reveal a towel-clad Esthrielle who was otherwise shockingly nude. Her right and left arm were only tangentially human: the same cinnamon tone as her skin but paneled and segmented with plastic, glimpses of dark carbon fiber making up the divider in armor-plating. Her elbows were ball joints, like a doll, and EJ guessed her kneecaps were the same - the elbows were exposed, but her wrists and knuckles were seamless. The woman''s torso was organic, seemingly, and striped with scars in the visible regions, reminiscent of a jungle cat - however, dotted LEDs and an access port in her collarbone suggested at least some pseudoskin. Hints of tattooing showed from what was visible, but much was not.


    "Oiiiii! Your conditioner smells great, girl - fig and agarwood? Pretty rich, not my usual scene, but I figure, y''know, when in Vitus...~"


    Laughter from a sharklike maw followed her hollow compliment, the brash brawler padding over to the table across from her while EJ simply stared. The apartment''s actual renter was dumbfounded by the limitless nature of this woman''s brazen nature, the way she simply came in and took what she wanted and ignored EJ''s opinion on the matter. ''Hard to believe these people think they''re in the right...'' she thought, gesturing towards the sashimi plate opposite her own. "That''s yours. Eat up. I''ll get you some clothes in a sec."


    "Thanks, girl. What''s your name? I can''t just call you ''girl'' or ''bitch'' or ''Blondie'' or ''hey, you'' this whole time, you know. Blondie''s cute, but it''ll get old." Esthrielle sat down and spread her legs and arms with sauna-style etiquette. Small vents on either shoulder hissed steam into the air as their owner let a heavy sigh roll from her lips, eyes shutting briefly as she reclined in her hostess''s property. The water from the shower still glistened on her soft, silicone pseudoskin, and her truthfully modest chest was barely concealed by the loosely hanging towel. She poked an eye open to look over at her captive audience, lips raised in a half-smirk.


    EJ had to pry her eyes away despite herself, internally cursing her idiot impulses for even thinking of how it would feel to reach out and touch the other woman, to feel her factory-grown musculature, to get a closer look at that terrifying dental devilry... Fuck. ''Fuck.'' Fuck, indeed. Further scolding before she looked out towards the balcony, feeling her face get red. ''Why do I have to be such a fucking lesbian?'' Esthrielle either didn''t notice the sudden reprieve of pallor upon EJ''s cheeks or she didn''t care; she was too busy relaxing in someone else''s home.


    "Fuck, uh..."


    "Your name is Fuck?" The monocular gaze became a squint, steel slivers bared wider with sadistic mirth. EJ''s own brow furrowed and she shut her eyes, frustration welling up once again.


    "No! My name is Esper James Price-Wynnfield. I''m a secretary for Tsang Solutions, and I''m very important, so you should try and be nicer to me!" That last part was bullshit, but she was still thinking of Judas and what she had said: that EJ would be hard to replace. That Tsang took care of it''s employees. That her superior did appreciate her and want her around. Maybe there was some creedence to her falsified grandeur after all.


    Esthrielle''s eyes both opened now, amusement and surprise mingling before her expression shifted to warmth and good-nature. Her smile wasn''t teasing or sarcastic now; she almost seemed proud that EJ had stood up for herself, even that little bit.


    "Ah, got it! Esper James. Do you go by just Esper, or-"


    "No. Fuck no. E-Esper James or EJ, but never just Esper, and certainly not just... Just James." EJ had turned back to glare at her houseguest with those piercing emeralds, the red flecks within them catching the light of the overhead lamp and dancing for her audience of one. Esthrielle nodded approvingly, reaching out to pluck a strip of herring up and, after dipping it, toss it into her mouth.


    "Mmh. EJ, then. It''s shorter. I''d say kinda like you, but we''re about the same height, so what do I know? Hey, sorry about being so rude earlier, still had some post-combat stress nerves''n shit. Adrenaline pumps have a time-out limiter to ensure I don''t get locked out during a chase, or in case I get ambushed."


    Esthrielle said it like it was supposed to mean something to EJ, but her words could have been in a foreign language. Bodily augmentation through mechanical means was rare in Vitus, and often only used for things which couldn''t otherwise be genetically synthesized. This sentiment was shared in the rest of the UNAC - the United North American Coalition - but outside their borders, technological enhancement was the way to go. The ERFS - Euro-Russo Feudal States - were on the forefront of this wave of posthuman thought, with so-called New Way enthusiasts, or Waywards, being their heralds.


    EJ''s blank, unimpressed stare spoke more than words could convey. Esthrielle sighed and shrugged, going to gulp down half her glass of water before taking a handful of rice and tossing it into her garbage-disposal mouth and pouring some soy sauce after. Swishing and smushing it around she swallowed, going to cross her toned nu-arms and lean back in her chair.


    "Ugh. Fucking hate coming West... So, what''re we eating, ghoul girl? This better not be your neighbor or something."


    "Shut it, toaster bitch. It''s herring. Surely you know what a fish looks like? Or are those coated in plastic and chrome out East, too?" EJ snapped back with a twitch of her brow, still indignant about the way she was being treated.


    "Oh, get bent. At least I''m not licking up scraps from the local sausage factory. Hell, I bet you''re all about sausage, am I right? I know how office girls like you get promotions, you know." Esthrielle winked, seemingly unphased by EJ''s tempered fury. Her right hand went up to made a lewd gesture, tongue poking her inner cheek a few times in rhythm. EJ grabbed her chopsticks and threw them at the foreign femme fatale with little hesitation, face reddening now from rage rather than lust.


    "Fuck you! I worked hard to get this job! I went to college! I struggled for years trying to get into Tsang! I worked double shifts at a shithole diner and studied on my breaks! I went through a month-long interview process! Physical after physical, psych-eval after psych-eval! I couldn''t sleep for w-weeks, waiting for them to get back to me; I sent out cover letters, I sent out emails, I practiced interview etiquette, I-I... I baked the hiring manager a freaking pie, I... I only got in because I fucking begged for it, like some kind of pathetic-..."


    Esper James stopped mid-sentence, animosity gripping her by the throat as she realized she was every bit the pitiful little doormat Esthrielle was making her out to be. Tears, again. This time they were hot. Burning. Gasoline on a wicker sculpture, scalding her trembling flesh as they rounded the curve of her cheeks and pooled at her chin, dripping down to make her savory herring saltier. She was quivering with emotion - regret, anger, frustration, sadness, self-loathing - her words unable to push past the mental blockage it all created.


    She could hold it no longer. The dam burst, and down she went: her elbows only barely managed to prop her up as she buried her lovely face in her hands, fang-filled mouth gasping out ragged sobs as those same heat-trails rolled down her face and dripped free. She wanted to be dead. Not just undead, but truly dead - she had been alive for fifty-three years, missed aging for little over thirty of them, and what had she accomplished? What had her life come to? Being the butt of a cruel joke. Being mocked, abused, terrified, and powerless. Stripped of her humanity, her dignity, and her agency. She felt like nothing; like a non-factor. If Esthrielle had killed her in that fucking alleyway, nothing would be different except that she''d finally be free of this living Hell.


    Across the table, there had been a tone shift. Her body was synthetic but her heart was still human, and seeing EJ break down into ugly-crying had chipped away Esthrielle''s teasing demeanor with every moment of weeping. She frowned, uncomfortable and begrudgingly empathetic - life wasn''t exactly sunshine and roses for her, either, but obviously her hand had been a better deal than the secretary''s. She stood, slowly toeing over to the grief-stricken blonde, wordless but gradually extending an arm. EJ could smell her, though, and struck out blindly to the scent of agarwood and fig.


    "G-GET AWAY FROM ME! Don''t touch me, y-you asshole...! You''re only... Only m-making this whole thing worse! You and your stupid f-fucking nutcase buddies! You fucking kill people! Normal p-p-people, like- like me! Hey, no, I-I said don''t TOUCH ME-"


    Even as EJ feebly swatted at Esthrielle she was swept up in a warm, comforting embrace, the cozy scent of conditioner underlined with steam, gun oil, carbon fibre, and silicone. Esthrielle smelled like a tech wholesaler hosting a high-fashion runway, but in a way, that did make EJ feel better. Her bare pseudoflesh was soft and smooth and somewhere between human skin and love doll, the synthetic pores and muscle fibres just barely bridging the uncanny valley back into acceptable territory. Her breath smelled like tires and industrial lubricant and a hint of cherry scented car freshener. Two sides of the same coin: a pair of women on two different paths to foregoing humanity and becoming more, now entangled in a show of physical affection.


    "Hush... Hush, EJ. Blondie, hey. Hey. I''m sorry, ok? I didn''t mean it, I was just trying to fuck with you a little bit... Hey, hey, come on, take a deep breath... If you''re gonna cry, at least cry into my shoulder or something and give me a hug, ok?"


    That was bait EJ was happy to take. Shakily, her hands left her face and went to Esthrielle''s exposed shoulderblades; they were marred with leftover sticky blood from EJ''s injuries, but as they were nearly healed, barely any had truly come free. The ghoulette promptly pushed her face into Esthrielle''s shoulder and cried harder than she had any time previous, her wailing thankfully muffled by the Knight''s small-but-powerful frame. Esthrielle gave up on any attempts to verbally pacify her at this point, instead running those stern silicone fingers through EJ''s hair and stroking her black-tipped mane.


    They stayed like this for five, ten, fifteen minutes, until finally EJ had emptied herself of tears. The embrace lingered for nearly ten minutes more before EJ felt composed enough to be freed. Their hearbeats - one weak and slow, the other mechanical and heavy - syncopated with one another, their breaths coming in tandem, their bodies sticky from water and blood and tears and soy sauce. EJ pried herself first, with Esthrielle''s hands coming away only when she was sure her captive was calmed.


    EJ was quiet for what felt like an eternity, considering what had just happened - that when she had broken down, this cold-hearted killer''s first instinct was to comfort her like a friend, to make sure she was ok. She had lent a helping hand and a literal shoulder to cry upon, and EJ had surprised herself by taking it. She was even more surprised (and spiteful of herself) that she had liked it. Esthrielle knew just where to put her hands and just how to cradle her, and she felt sickeningly safe in the other woman''s arms. EJ decided to chalk it up to evil Eastern devil technology, or something of the sort.


    Esthrielle sat back down, clearing her throat and looking at EJ with a strange expression. Another piece of the now-lukewarm herring was thrown into her gob and gnashed silently, lips closed and chewing subtle. It took our heroine a bit to realize that Esthrielle was waiting for EJ to say something.


    "...o-oh. Thank... Thank you. For that."


    "No problem. Seemed like you, uh, needed to let that out. It''s not my place to ask... I know I''m not really making things better, am I? Haha! Hahaha..." The laugh trailed away, sarcasm mixed with regret that she had pushed the blonde so far. EJ, however, just shook her head; a smile appeared on her face, weary and thin, but genuine. Some of her broken fangs had already fallen out and begun to grow back.


    "Yeah, I did, I guess. And yeah, you''re not. You stormed into my house, threatened to kill me, forced me to get you dinner, used by special-occasion conditioner..."


    "Shit, that''s why it was on the shelf by itself..."


    "...yeah. Anyways, you''re right, you''re kind of a pain in my ass. But, uh, I should also thank you for saving me from, uh... From getting r-ra... Assaulted." EJ couldn''t get the first word out, try as she might - it felt like sludge in her throat, and she had to swallow it and try anew.


    "Don''t worry about it. Anyone would''ve done the same, right?" Esthrielle smiled sympathetically, putting a hand across the table to rest on EJ''s. The ghoulette suppressed her instinct to recoil at the touch of pseudoflesh, instead just smiling as her whole arm tensed. She nodded, thinking it wise not to mention the truth - that most people in Vitus would have only ignored it or made it worse.


    "So, what next? Any big plans? Hopefully involving zero casualties...?" She had glazed over the fact that Esthrielle was, in fact, a dangerous terrorist at this point; she was drawn in by chiseled mocha features, brash confidence, and genuine empathy. She cursed her rampant heart once more, but Esthrielle''s answer came before she could beat herself up too badly.


    "Eh? I was thinking of staying with you, blondie. I''ve gotta lay low for a while, my squad only does ops once in a while. Can''t risk becoming too noticable. Oh, and call me Est - it''s shorter, just like EJ."

 Act One (Ch. 7) - A Longer Interlude: Viva Italia, Viva Venezia, Viva Il Doge

    -


    It is cold within the cells. Dark. It reeks like piss and concrete and festering wounds. Next door, through the thin iron grate in the wall, she could hear a man screaming; pleading for his life. Pleading for his mother. Pleading to die.


    She looked down at her hands, the bandages on them, the blackened blood making them appear that much filthier in the dim light. This was Hell. It had to be Hell. Man''s own Hell, crafted by their hands, guided by Satan; nowhere crueler than this existed, so she was certain. Nowhere that was of this Earth. What fingers remained twitched from lingering pain as her muscles spasmed, the salt in the very air causing the stumps to burn and the survivors to silently weep for their lost brethren.


    She was no one. Not anymore. The polizia had taken care of that. Not that she had really been anyone before incarceration all those weeks ago; it felt like years, but it had only been in February. It was now May, and the loving warmth of the Sun did not penetrate the earthen tomb of her gaol. She yearned to see it''s golden light once more, to bask in it''s grandeur, but she knew this to be a dream never realized.


    Outside her cell door, she could hear the guards talking, jeering at prisoners, playing cards. Two men, in their mid-thirties, discussing who was next to meet with the torturer; they scrolled through a holographic list projected from a wall-mount, deciding at a whim based upon crimes. Sometimes they chose simply to torment someone, because they wanted to hear them scream. The woman in the cell may have cried, but she never screamed - never.


    Suddenly, there was a commotion as the men rushed to stand, nearly knocking over their chairs to salute a superior officer. The woman in the cell crawled closer, peering through with her one good eye, shaggy brown hair covering most of her cinnamon-skinned face. Her nose twitched at the fresh scent of rot from the cell across the hall, but she ignored it; something interesting was happening with the gaolers. She could vomit later, if necessary.


    A condottiere. He stood a full head taller than the two polizia who saluted him, their light black uniforms making them seem horribly underdressed by comparison. His own raiment was tetrasteel and carbon fiber and hard plastic, a chivalric vesture for an age of chrome and chaos: shining cream-colored metal with gel-layered joints, a scarlet sash layered with medals and data-sigils, and a lack of helmet that spoke only to the quality of the suit itself. Various ports over the suit implied a hidden trophy system equipped with 9mm interceptor rounds, while the shoulders - styled like the roaring heads of lions - held sensors and headlights within the eyes, directional subsonic emitters located within their howling mouths. More and more was revealed to the woman in the cell as she eyed the neo-noble up, his presence either a boon or a burden.


    He nodded to the polizia without speaking, turning now towards the cells. His face, beautiful and gaunt, skin olive and sparkling with subdermal nanites, finally turned towards the cells; she had to catch her breath in her throat at the sight. The poor rarely saw their overlords, the feudal masters who controlled every aspect of their lives; peerage had returned in the ERFS after the end of the Pan-Eurasian War, and the rich and famous took up titles long-forgotten to exert dominance over the common man.


    His polychromatic eyes scanned the cells, heavy tread belying a lithe figure beneath the power armor. Behind him, the two polizia followed like sheepish choirboys, babbling away towards the silent warrior. They tried not to cast an eye at the weapons at his side: a longsword of ornate silver, pommel graven into a screaming eagle, and an automatic pistol as long as the average adult''s forearm. The battle-damage upon his vestage and armaments lent to the idea that they were not idle conversation pieces.


    As they neared, their hushed tones (so different from their boisterous discussion of torture!) became audible to the woman, and she listened in. She had difficulty seeing them so well now that they were in the dark hallway, but those ever-shifting irises of the warrior shone like spotlights - and after a moment, the actual lights upon his pauldrons flicked on with a resounding clang.


    "...mio signore, please, what are you searching for? We have paid many families well for our bread... Let us have our circuses, too, will you?"


    "Ah, yes, signore! Surely you have more suitable courtesans at home, eh? No need to draw them from our cells; we work for the doge, you know, and our prisoners are his too..."


    The mercenary-lord held up a gauntlet clad hand, silencing his tagalongs. He turned to glare at them, the shifting of his irises swirling now in icy blues that seemed frost-wreathed to the onlooker. Silken ink-hued hair was brushed from his face by an unseen wind as he stared down the two men, mouth wordless - and yet they understood, stumbling over themselves to apologize for daring to question him. If she weren''t so tired and aching, the woman in the cell may have laughed; instead, she simply smiled.


    The warlord proceeded forth, turning to inspect every individual cell, unmoved by what horrors lay within - be it a dead body or a dying one, a victim or a violator, a fresh face or a forgotten prisoner, their fate was of no concern to him. He was looking for something, something specific. Someone specific.


    And then he stood before the woman in the cell who had no name, his slender body Luciferian in it''s imposing nature and tragic beauty. His shoulder-lamps wreathed her broken and bloodied form in harsh off-yellow light, her myriad imperfections put on display for all three men to see. She didn''t move, or flinch, or even consider backing away. She simply closed her eye, taking a deep breath and heaving a resigned sigh. If he found her acceptable, surely a better fate lay with an angel than the devils in this Hell; and if he found her repugnant, perhaps he would take mercy upon her and put the muzzle of his peace-bringer to her skull. Both were ambrosia to the numb pain of her existence.


    The two polizia began to trip over themselves once more, trying to speak but unable to form more than sheepish rambling, fighting to input the keycode to unlock her cell. With a rattling the bars were slid aside, and no barrier stood between her and this unearthly being with eyes like a rainbow. He knelt down, staring intently at her, his stoic expression unchanging for moments - then minutes - and then, he frowned. A nod. His lips parted slowly, the lips of a recluse, a hermit whose only companions are trees and soil.


    "...you. I have chosen. My... master. Il doge, he requires... Your talents. You, who has nothing... Who wants for nothing... Who is nothing... I choose. Stand... If you can. If you cannot..."


    His voice is soft and beautiful and sonorous; every syllable is song, every sentence a symphony. The nameless woman is sure he''s never used it in his life, or varely rarely if he has. With a hand on his shoulder (which the polizia gasp at) she tries to push to a stand, but two fingers and a thumb can only offer so much stability. She falls, hitting the concrete with a dull thud. Her mouth opens to rasp out a cry of agony, but naught other than whimpering comes forth.


    The condottiere frowns. He casts a glance at the polizia, who rush forth without hesitation: their arms slip beneath the woman and raise her, helping her to stand. They are, for once, gentle with her. Once she is upright and no longer crippled with her own agony, the mercenary-lord puts his own hand around her to steady her - it is instantly sullied by her filth, but he ignores it or simply cares not.


    In her heart, she is in bliss despite the pain. Finally, after months of praying, begging, pleading with God to save her, a savior had appeared. She was delivered from evil, as He promised her to be; she was the meek, and now she would inherit... something. Perhaps not the Earth, but anything was better than here.


    Steps were slow and time-consuming, and every footfall send pain like lightning up her atrophied legs. The warrior was patient with her, however; he never scoffed, never cast disdain upon her, never yanked or jerked or scolded for her to speed up. The polizia followed behind once more, silent and bashful, now embarrassed of their treatment of their prisoner - if only because it inconvenienced the nobility. Surely there would be reprimand for this.


    Finally they made it to the stairs upwards, out of this dank dungeon, free of it''s cold concrete and metallic torturer and sadistic, piggish guards. The condottiere halted. He let go of the nameless woman, but turned to her, looking down with a strange gleam in his eyes. Up close, his face was truly elegant: sad, tired doe-eyes framed by perfect eyebrows and dark red makeup on the lower lid; high but subtle cheekbones that gave him an elfin slant; a pointed chin and thin lips, three silver rings sitting upon the lower. They said ''VIS / OPES / GLORIA''.


    He smiled, lips trembling as the muscles remembered how, teeth yet pristine. Perhaps they were false.


    "As my... ward... I am bound to... Avenge you. Defend your... honor, what little you... may have. As such, I... Hope this is not too..."


    He chuckles, the sound reminiscent of a dying bird or punctured dog-toy.


    "...loud for you..."


    He slowly released the woman''s shoulder and turned towards the confused polizia, their faces going from concern to realization to mortal fear as the angel''s opposite hand dipped towards his firearm. In their last moments, they sounded much like the man in the torture chamber: they begged for their lives. They begged for their mothers.


    And then, they begged for death.


    -


    Outside now, the mercenary-lord once again steadies his nameless charge. She has her eye shut against the vivid May sunshine first, and against the shine of the gleaming procession of mirror-polished automobiles second. They sit ready for the pair, each of them under oath to the condottiere, war machines of a paramilitary noble. In the center sits an enormous truck-like production with tank treads in the rear, the merc-lord''s crest - a two-headed black eagle upon a field of white, tearing a snake in half with their talons - painted on the hood. The side-door opened and a ramp rolled down to allow the armor-clad owner to stride up, but first came medics to steal away the nameless woman and whisk her within.


    Medical gloves and gauze and rubbing alcohol compose endless hours from thereon, only broken up for food (rich mussels in a garlic-pesto sauce and crostini for dipping, which she promptly voided due to stomach illness) and morphine. The nubs of her fingers were removed completely and made to shut; her missing eye was replaced with glass, a temporary fix. Broken bones were set, a dirty body was hand-washed, and a shattered psyche was soothed by opiate ecstasy. Hell was real, in that basement of a gaol - Heaven was to be found in chemical euphoria in the hands of private chemists.


    Her hair was shaved completely, and her rags were stripped away, traded for a simple robe of sheer white silk. Hydraulic supports were fastened to atrophied legs and arms, blisters and callouses were cut away to heal fresh, and even minor blemishes like moles or birthmarks were lessened in the flurry of attention and medical magic. She was barely conscious for any of it, though she could have sworn he was present in fits and flashes - her savior, the warrior, to whom she owed her life and liberty. He was observing her progress, ensuring his subordinates performed admirably.


    Her heart swelled simply thinking of his affection now.


    And then, as quickly as it had began, the attendance slowed to a trickle. Only one nurse stuck around now, occasionally feeding her spoonfuls of lobster bisque; it was creamy and savory with hints of nutmeg and mushroom, but had been purposefully watered down by a considerable amount so her tender stomach could even process it. It still made her spit-up occasionally, but enough of it stayed down that she was content.


    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    The sliding door to the medical compartment opened. Freed of armor, a tall, effeminate man stood in the dooframe; his black hair cascaded to mid-back like a tarry waterfall, his olive skin glittering in the light. He now wore a linen robe much like the woman''s own, sheer and simple, colored black but detailed with golden floral designs in filigree. His thin lips parted in a sad smile as he approached, looking over his ward - he was nearly 6''5, while the tanned woman he held patient was barely 5''4. The bare, soft flesh of his feet made subtle sound with every step, the medically-sound floor tiling cold but palatable to him.


    "Are you awake, now? I have... Been practicing my speech, in the meantime. I do not usually, erm... Speak aloud. It is unbecoming of one of my station, but, for you... I will make an exception."


    The woman could only nod. She was too doped up to do much else, plus her mouth was full of delicious, nutrient-rich bisque. She did manage to smile, though, and the very sight of it caused his chromatic orbs to shimmer golden and the edges of his smile to upturn.


    "Good. Good. You will... recuperate for two days. This is more than enough time for your... locomotion to return. Then, you will see my master, il doge di Venezia. He has... great designs for one such as you. Though, I will admit, I am... Ah. Partial. I was given the task to procure... a prisoner. One who seemed as you do. I chose you personally, because I feel you are... important. Given to greatness. You will not disappoint him. Disappoint us."


    She could only nod as his words struggled to set in, bricks in pudding, lead weights in an ocean of sludge. She understood the gist of it... The general idea. He nodded in return, eyes shutting for a moment, smile never wavering. A gentle, dainty hand was extended to lay upon the woman''s forehead - his pseudoskin was cool but soft and comforting, dazzling quality nearly indistinguishable from organic flesh.


    "Very good, my friend. Very good. Now rest; we will arrive in Venezia by morning, and you will rest in the doge''s palazzo. Once you are well, you will be in his service... and his care. You will be his servant, and he will protect you in turn. Your life will have... meaning, once again."


    Meaning. What a blessing. Born a serf and destined to die a serf, service to such an important member of peerage was... unimaginable. Extraordinary. Only the best of the best could work their way up to serve a doge, whether they were whores or warriors or chemists or counselors.


    So, what did il doge di Venezia need her of all people for?


    -


    The morning came quickly, it seemed. She was hustled out of her cot at the break of dawn, out into the halls of the war-machine, and then helped onto the cool, smooth tiles of a winding driveway. She was barely lucid enough to take it all in at first; being jostled around, rushed out the door, and returned to the warmth and beauty of nature was stunning in it''s own right. However, her eye popped and jaw dropped as she gazed upon the true extent of the doge''s wealth: his palazzo, his mansion.


    Three stories tall, and built in the traditional way, it was an awe-inspiring manse which harkened to days of old without foregoing modern comforts. Sweeping archways lined an outer walkway, above which a balcony ran the length of the second floor; the walls were white stucco, the shingles a warm clay-red. Down the surrounding hillside, an orchard of apple trees stood sprouting miniscule fruit. Past that, wilderness extended for a mile or more before returning to the lagoon. It was a slice of paradise.


    The angel, whose name she still knew not, appeared beside her. His hand entered hers and their fingers entwined - they paid no mind to the motorcade behind them taking it''s leave, silence and peace soon returning to the miniature island.


    "It''s... beautiful."


    Finally she spoke; finally she opened her lips and choked out the words, vocal cords damaged from crying and abuse, voice husked and soft and low. The angel squeezed her hands and laughed again, that bird-like laugh. It sounded better than before. He had been practicing.


    "Yes, it is. My master lives in luxury, for his duty is paramount; without him to lead Venezia, we would surely fall to outside aggression. Italia calls, and we answer. However... His duties for you, my dear, are not... so similar. For you, a... different master beckons."


    There was no time to explain, it seemed. He drug her along and led her inside, beginning to give her the tour. Dozens of servants lived on-site, it was explained, and everything was kept pristine; failure was not an option to il doge, and even the maids and gardeners were expected to adhere to this perfection. Only she, unnamed and healing, was flawed. Only she was broken. Once the tour was finished, they retired to the courtyard garden in the center of the palazzo - a pool sat nearby, but they rested upon a comforting wooden bench instead. The condottiere had a hand on hers, his eyes caught wistfully upon a relaxing dragonfly. Without warning, he spoke.


    "My name is... Luca. Luca Esippardi. Il doge gave me this name himself, when he brought me into his service. The guardsmen who had you imprisoned said you lacked a name. We will... see that you are named, too. Your old life is dead. Your new life begins... with us. With Venezia."


    -


    A day went by, and then another - she was treated as a guest but prevented from seeing her host, instead spending time with Luca. He was sweet and gentle with her, but stern when necessary. She was taught the ettiquette expected for her interaction with il doge, and she grew healthier in record speed, expedited by the expensive medicines of the peerage. Finally, the day came where she was to meet her host, and she was dressed once more in the sheer white dress - her faux-nudity did not bother her. Her wounds had healed, and she was as whole as she could become naturally. She was ready.


    Evening came, and the doors to the grand hall were thrown open. The woman had never been allowed within before, told that il doge''s business was extremely private, that she was to remain away from him until she was ready. Luca had inspected her daily to ensure her readiness, as it were, and today she was deemed acceptable. He held her hand once more as he led her to the hall, helping her steady her uneven footing.


    The hall itself was a throne room and feasting house all in one - a long wooden table sat at the length of it, with a raised dais at the furthest reach. Upon the dais was an ancient-looking litter, resting there since time immemorial, a handled throne for a diminutive and unimpressive man. He was bald and sour-faced, dressed in lavish silks, and sat hunched in his royal post. When the woman and Luca stepped forth to be seen, he inspected them from afar before beckoning for them to come closer.


    Past towering pillars draped with banners and stained glass darkened from twilight hours they walked, slowly but surely, hand in hand. The room was silent save for the sound of breath and footsteps, and the mocha-toned houseguest could practically hear her own blood pumping.


    Fuck, she was nervous. Extremely nervous. All her life she had been taught that nobility were more than just human, that they possessed power beyond that which an average citizen could dream of. Some could shoot lightning from their hands; some could see for miles with bare eyes; some could leap tall buildings in a single bound. Surely a man so important as the ruler of an entire provincal region was possessed of some supernatural power, as well? More than just that, she yearned to impress him, if only for Luca''s sake. She would not dare let them down.


    "...you must be Luca''s new acquaintance."


    The words hung in the air with the force of a bomb ready to drop. Silence filled an infinite void between the three before the woman realized it was her turn to speak directly to such a powerful man; she cleared her throat and nodded, trying to suppress her oncoming bloom of color.


    "Y-Yes, your serenity. I am Luca''s ward and acquaintance. I was told-"


    "Hush. I care not what you were told. In this room, I am the one who does the telling." He held his hand up to emphasize the sentiment, as if silencing her bodily. With the way her words caught in her throat like a noose had blocked them, it was debatable that he had performed a more physical feat than initially believed. Her blood ran cold at his response, but he didn''t seem angry; just tired. Il doge continued.


    "As Luca''s ward, you are my property. I am il doge di Venezia, a rich and powerful noble. My word is law in this jurisdiction, and it''s people are my possessions and treasures; I may use them to my heart''s content, but I must also keep them safe and cared for. You, as such, are mine to command. Do you understand?"


    She nodded, wordless now but fully attentive. She was terrified what may happen if she showed even a sliver of hesitation.


    "Good. I will be straight to the point, for Luca''s sake - he has served me for years, and I respect his counsel. If he believes you to be my candidate, then I trust him and his judgement. In exchange for my protection, you will do as I say, and I say this: there is an order, a holy order, who makes residence in Capua to the south. They take all who will be volunteered from the noble houses, and il Papa has ordained in confidence to we priviledged few that there is great glory to be gained in this life and the next for both the volunteers and their kin."


    He cleared his throat before continuing, a long and drawn-out coughing that showed deeply his age and wear. The nameless woman said nothing, but winced; Luca''s face was placid as ever, though he squeezed her hand tighter in that moment..


    "...ahem. I am old, girl, and have sired no heirs. My wellspring was dry from birth, and Luca I have adopted as my son. When I die, he is to become the next doge di Venezia, and with the infusions of my DNA into his he will become as my own flesh. However... I cannot send him out to fight. He cannot join this new crusade, for he must remain home and keep myself and my lands safe from harm. He is my sword, my shield, my armor, my heart. As such... I am sure you can see the natural progression of this."


    She wasn''t sure, but she nodded; her eyes went to Luca, who still stared forward at his adoptive father. He had set his jaw with both pride and stoic regret, a man who took great care in the defense of his household at the expense of his personal honor. She did not blame the doge for his decision.


    "You, girl. You will become my champion. For reasons I care not, Luca has decided you fit for combat, and a suitable candidate to bear our family crest. You will represent the Esippardi family in il Papa''s holy venture, and in doing so will rise from nothing to join one of Italia''s most prestigious lineages. You will be reborn as nobility, with all the boons such a station provides."


    "What say you?"


    -


    Back in the present, back in Vitus, Esthrielle thinks of memories that seemed nearly a lifetime ago. She thinks of her adoptive father... Of Luca... Of her mission. She thinks of the cold, cruel gaol where she was stowed for a crime she could not even recall. She thinks of how she once had nothing.


    Looking across the table at this frazzled blonde, with her black-dyed tips and her frightened, tired eyes, she thought of herself. It was a West-facing mirror, reflecting her own image - Est, Italian for East, to remind her of the land she represented. It was her name as much as it was her sigil, a mark she bore to show the honor she had been bestowed. EJ had no such boon.


    She was alone. Scared. Confused. Helpless. This Western world, this Vitus, was hell; it''s citizens were abused and trifled by power-hungry tyrants that hid their avarice with fancy titles like ''CEO'' and ''Head Executive'' and ''Senior Manager''. It was peerage for a modern age, but clouded in lies and the false ideal that advancement was possible - at least in the ERFS, they were up-front about your station in life.


    ''Poor girl... She''s got no idea, does she? Or maybe she does. Maybe they all know how futile it is, but they keep going because they don''t know any better...''


    The thought stuck like the rice on her place in Est''s head, her red eyes watching a puffy-eyed ghoul finish up her dinner. She thought about her mission, her crusade. She thought about the people that she had had a direct hand in slaying this evening. She thought about home.


    Perhaps it was time to lighten the mood.


    "Hey, EJ - I''ve gotta ask, how did..."


    -

 Act One (Ch. 8) - Death and Consequences; or, The Meaning Of Life

    "...you end up as, well, a corpse?"


    The blonde snapped from her sleep-haze instantly, their previously peaceful silence broken by the lilting Easterner''s Mediterranean inflection. She blinked once, twice, thrice, setting down her chopsticks and looking up at her begrudging guest. Unable to get a proper read on her expression, EJ made her retort:


    "Why?"


    Est chuckled playfully, giving a shrug. Her ruby eyes darted down towards the remains of their meal: the herring was gone, some soy sauce had spilled onto the table and plates, and the rice was mostly finished. It was funny, in a way - watching the pair of them attempt to eat rice. Their teeth weren''t made for it, and so much difficulty came in the way of chewing; EJ, more experienced, simply swallowed it whole. Swallowing was a skill one acquired when one''s teeth were blades.


    "Dunno. I thought it might be good to make conversation, you know? If I am going to stay with you for any amount of time, I''ll need to get to know you. Wouldn''t it be terrible for the pair of us to spend months together, cooped up in your apartment, practically strangers? Or maybe you''d think it exciting?"


    Esthrielle bares her steels with a salacious grin, and Esper James shudders. In her heart, she''s still disgusted by this other woman, but intrigued as well - dinner with a murderer, an evening with a scourge. Surely she was a sociopath. Surely she was evil. But Esper James still felt drawn forth in a strange way; a foreboding way. She couldn''t quite take her eyes away even as Est''s synthetic body hissed steam once more, the LEDs of her eyes brightening and darkening idly.


    "...car accident. I got hit while crossing the street. They scraped me up and threw me in the morgue and I was back to life- back to consciousness in three days."


    She muttered the words, not wanting to discuss it much - to deliberate one''s death as a second-living was taboo, to say the least. It was like discussing a dead name, or an old lover, or a forgotten family: painful, meaningless, better left unsaid. Est wouldn''t know that. She was from the East; she had no clue that the West even had such conventions. The Italian''s smile faded, though, as she seemed to realize the weight of her words.


    Est shifted in her seat, towel still wrapped around her, thick alabaster mop dried from the time it took for dinner. She still had a distinct artificial shine to her skin, making her seem soft and smooth, like a doll - like a plaything. Without the muscles she may have been just that, with how curated her appearance was. EJ tried not to think about the implications; Est seemed to know them and flaunt them, though she had reigned it in for now. An awkward moment was broken by the warrior, her mirth missing.


    "Oh... huh. That''s awful. Does it ever, uh... Does it hurt?"


    "What? Dying? Does dying hurt? Fucking yes, duh. But..." EJ drew in a slow breath, eyes lowering to her hands. They were frail and trembling, the vivid memory - one of the only things she could truly remember of her life before death - coming back in terrible detail.


    -


    She had been walking to school, to university. Growing up outside of Vitus, she was a transplant to the uber-urban environment and still in awe of the modern conveniences it provided. That day was a school day, and she was walking from a rented apartment (with money her parents had funneled to her for their special little girl to get her education!) off to the Vitus Institute of Technology, Art, and Science. She had been studying for Event Planning - this being back when she still loved people, and felt comfortable in their presence.


    Books in hand, dressed in a long black pleated skirt with a greyish sweater over a white blouse, thick-rimmed black glasses and some nearly-unnecessary braces finishing off her look, she stood at a busy crosswalk. She smiled, teeth a touch yellow from coffee and the occasional cigarette, but fangs were now molars, and canines, and all the normality of humanity.


    Just an average girl.


    Her feet click-clacked up to the crosswalk, black buckle loafers only lightly tarnished by Vitus''s dusty air. It wasn''t as bad then as it was now. To her left, men and women in business attire stood lined up for the bus. They checked watches, shuffled papers, rummaged handbags; they were stoic and unmoved, the movers and shakers of a city on the brink of beautiful modernity. They didn''t pay her any mind, and she didn''t mind that in turn. Surely, they didn''t have time for a little bright-eyed and bushy-tailed collegiate like her.


    To her right stood the intersection, busy as Hell and twice as torturous. This was the intersection of Tanakara Square, the naming rights purchased by Tanakara Technologies, a major player in Vitus''s economy. They stood in a tall building of black and glass and steel and gold and red, one with a pair of door-handles that read ''T-T''. EJ had dreamt of working for them as a manager since high school, her parents'' expectations of a proud capitalist daughter fueling a worldview that held such positions on high. But she was a realist - she never thought of herself as anything other than managerial stock, or perhaps a supervisor.


    A pity.


    She stood and waited for the light to go red, books in hand, smile on her face. She cast her beaming expression towards a nearby man she recognized from a Tanakara Tech TV spot - he looked away when he saw her. It was always like that. Sure, she wasn''t perfect - but she tried, right? On her voice, on her jaw, on her brow... She had put in such work, and yet even a glance could make a stranger disdainful.


    One of the blessings of her new life was the surgeon''s knife, the cold embrace of chophouse steel. The memory had no such solace.


    A scream rang out. It was down the street, towards the old Harris building - an apartment complex that had fallen into disrepair after a number of failed attempts at appealing to new residents. It was a blight on the ''nice'' side of town, and anyone who lived in Vitus knew it housed low-life scum. Or, well, so they were told; few people actually went in to check it out, and regardless of what they said or described about the place, it was ignored.


    The scream. Even now it made EJ''s flesh prickle, not because of the sound itself but because of what it meant. Because of what came next. There was a terrible thump-thud as a beast of steel and diesel hopped the curb and mounted the sidewalk, it''s front brakes screeching with laughable futility as it barreled towards the crowd. In slow motion it crept forward, a runaway semi with its trailer tailing behind at a strange angle. In hindsight she knew why - industrial gangs often tried to hot-drop the trailers of tech shipments to fence into the underground - but at the time, her brain couldn''t even process what was hurtling down on her.


    The scream had been a bystander, and soon it was joined by the crowd. Those to EJ''s left darted away, rushing behind the safety of skyscrapers and subway stations; those to her right were in chaos and disbelief, their vehicles piling against one another in a frenzied attempt to escape the upcoming carnage. Ironic.


    And then... blood. Esper James was frozen in place, possessed by fear which made all else pale, unable to even blink. She watched as the trailer''s heavy steel box-frame crashed into the bodies of civilians, the sickening crunch of their bones as they were snapped like kindling, the way red-soaked white punched through innocent skin. She started a to pray as she saw ruptures in their flesh, blood and viscera pouring out as the trailer lost its wheels and began to tumble, rolling through the bodies like a thresher through grain. Metal began to tear apart from the force of impact and the other debris on the street, sending shrapnel flying through the already-doomed citizens.


    One last breath before it hit her.


    Steel kissed skull. It was a lover''s first touch, a tender last embrace, a gentle word from a mentor. It was mercy, for her head to be shattered before the slaughter could destroy her. In life, her skull had been splattered and her brain matter scattered. Her teeth had been crushed against one another, the braces snapping and adding to the dismembering fury. Her spinal column had been dislodged in a way only describable as ''not good''. But in life, in her first life, none of that was remembered.


    She had died, as was natural. As was meant to be. She would go to see what lay above and below.


    But what they always neglect to tell you when they discuss second-living in schools is that despite conscious thought, sapience, leaving your body upon death, your brain continues to do it''s duty until it cannot anymore. It records what it sees. What it hears. What it smells. What it tastes. What it feels. It is the first memory a second-living person is given of their new life, and it is burned into them eternally; they can never forget what made them how they came to be.


    For Esper James, she saw her own gore. She heard her bones do a great impression of an empty snack bag. She smelled bitterness, foulness, burnt rubber and her own cloying blood. She tasted copper, like coins, hot and viscous. She felt pain.


    The rest is a blur, and is almost worse to remember. The splitting of the brain matter into pieces creates fractured and strange memories, multiple accounts of the same simultaneous proceedings. She remembers the morgue. Remembers the pavement, little bits of it clinging to her stinging greys. The shots, the re-attaching, the soaking pool... The way she formed back together. The way her flesh knit itself up for the first time, and how she had cried and screamed at the pain of it.


    When she had lived again, truly lived, she was bawling in a dimly lit pool of reddish liquid. It burned like alcohol and was cold as ice, the womb of wights, drawing her last breath back from across the aether to fill her breast anew. A mask sat on her face, hooked to a tube to let her breathe - otherwise, she was nude.


    Suddenly, the top lifted away to reveal the blistering lights of the morgue. A mannish voice laughed amicably, but at the time she had thought it cruel; two hands likely attached to the voice''s owner dipped fearlessly into the pool even as it sizzled and hissed and burnt away the hairs on his arms. Hands clad in medical gloves gripped her under either shoulder and began to haul her up and out even as she screamed and hissed and flailed, not understanding, not wanting to be touched, only desiring a return to the void that had been before. Through the fluid, garbled by its presence, she could hear the man speak.


    "Welcome back, young lady!"


    -


    When the reverie finished, EJ was crying. Crying again. She kicked herself inside her mind for the pathetic show of emotion, for how often she cried. It was embarrassing to constantly be sobbing, regardless of if it was for valid reasons or not. Midway through her mental self-beration she looked across the table, noticing Est was frowning at her. Not a new expression for the ghoulette to see, to be frank.


    "What?"


    Esper James hadn''t meant it, but the words left as a shaky, snappy attack. She felt more vulnerable now than ever before - normally she could confront the memories alone, could sob into a pillow or stuffie and let the pain ebb away on teardrop tides. Here, however, she was stuck. An audience of one was enough for a show, and stage fright had no easy cure.


    Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    "I''m... You look like it hurts to think about, blondie. I''m sorry I asked. I, uh, I didn''t want to..."


    Didn''t want to bring up old wounds. Didn''t want to hurt you. Didn''t want to make you cry. Again.


    Take your pick; whatever she had been meaning to say, it hung in the air with a weight that felt physical. This whole scenario was dreamlike in a sick way, and EJ could barely fucking take it. Her right hand stung in the palm from her fingernails digging in, subconsciously drawing blood. Est turned her head away, looking at the floor, face fallen.


    "It''s... fine. It''s fine, it''s fine. I''m feeling... better already. I''m gonna have a fucking drink. Help yourself if you wanna, but don''t finish the bottle or I''ll scream." EJ lied through her sharpened teeth, eyes still narrowed to prevent tears from forming. Her furrowed brows twitched involuntarily, sore from how hard they were flexing.


    Est said nothing. Taking this as invitation to drink alone, EJ stood with a start, chair sliding out behind her, and stomped over to the cupboard. Here she allowed twins of tears to drip-drop down her soft cheeks and into the glass she prepared, away from where her house-Est could see. Thin fingers curled around a bottle of chilled plum wine from a small minifridge stocked with booze, the other hand procuring a lukewarm can of PhizKid lemon-lime soda. Both went into the tear-lined highball to make a sad little spritzer, one that had a tang of salt beneath the fruit and fizz.


    Another one was poured just in case. That one got ice; EJ didn''t want any in her own.


    She turned, heading back to the table, only to see the tan-skinned tomboy standing close to her; she nearly bumped into her as she turned, in fact. The ghoul stumbled back, but Est''s hands rushed out to catch her and stabilize her; when she was standing straight again, the assassin''s expression turned sheepish.


    "I, uh... Shit. I just want you to know that I get it. Feeling helpless, feeling... taken advantage of. I''ve been there. I''m still there, in a way - just a dog with a longer leash. Not quite freedom. Don''t think I''ll ever get there. But, EJ, you can''t expect things to get better unless you do something about it. If you''re feeling stuck, you''ve go-"


    Slap!


    Est didn''t try to dodge it, though she could have - and in restrospect, she should have. EJ''s open palm hit like a ton of bricks; not quite the blow a Vampire could have delivered, of course, but ghouls still gained quite a boost to their physical strength. EJ didn''t take care of hers, so she was only humanly strong, but it was enough to make the Knight stumble back a few paces and hold her pseudoskinned cheek.


    "FUCK you! What do you know, you psychopath?! I just met you fuckin'' tonight! You''re a crazywoman from some medieval technocracy thousands of miles away who butchers people just like me because you think God himself has somehow given you the A-OK! What in the Hell do you know about what I''m going through, huh?! Nothing! You know jack-fucking-shit, ok? Jack-FUCKING-Shit! You... You come into my home, and force me to house you like some kind of servant, make you dinner, give you my clothes that you still haven''t put on...


    It''s obscene! It''s nuts! It''s fucked up! You''re holding me hostage in my own fucking apartment and now you''re lecturing me on how to improve my life?! Where the Hell do you get off on all this, you narcissistic god-damn serial killer? Huh? Should I be thanking you for this? Should I be kissing your fucking feet? Here, I''ve got a collar in my purse, lemme just go put it on!"


    Est opened her mouth to reply, and indeed a stream of well-meaning protests began to babble forth with the intent to defuse the emotionally-compromised undead''s sudden switch to firebrand ferocity. Each and every epithet fell upon deaf ears, a monologue for a brick wall, as the blonde-haired woman practically tore open her purse.


    Fuck, she was really crying now. She didn''t care this time, though - they weren''t sad tears, or frustrated tears, or impotent tears. These were tears of rage, hot and pure and scalding with a righteous flame gifted unto only those most justified in their tearfall. She found the flat black case and opened it roughly, throwing the constituent sides haphazardly away to grasp the collar''s length. Black leather, soft and pliant, was abused exactly as intended by her grip; the cold steel ring found itself a home upon her neck, memories of Adam long since gone but making her wince regardless. She pushed it lower.


    EJ whipped around, fastening the choker-collar tight enough to make it live up to it''s name. Red-flecked eyes glared with an inferno''s wrath at the New Way warrior in her kitchen, moonlight piercing the smog to send one gentle shaft into the room to illuminate the pair. The only other light they found themselves in was hanging over the kitchen table, some five or more feet away.


    "Well? Well? Esper-fucking-James, your personal little slave, reporting for duty! Now why not finish telling me how I''m living my life wrong while standing in my kitchen, mistress! Please, I''m dying to hear what words of wisdom some neurotic gearbody has to spit at me!"


    Est rushed over, going to wrap her arms around EJ; it had worked before, it''d work again, right? Wrong. Super duper wrong. As wrong as one could get, actually. By time she had a chance to try and console the ghoul through her breakdown, another facet of ghoulish nature exposed itself:


    A set of razor-sharp teeth.


    EJ chomped down with all the force she could muster, burying ivory into silicone and kevlar, rewarded for her efforts by a spurt of bluish nutrio-fluid splashing straight into her mouth. It was hot and tasted foul, like marmite, and left a clinging film that slowly congealed to sandy consistency. Almost as soon as she bit down she regretted it, letting go and gagging on the essence that had entered her oral orifice.


    Est, meanwhile, howled in pain as EJ pierced a synthetic nerve bundle and sent her staggering back. Her hand went up to her shoulder, panic flaring in her eyes as fluid spurted out between her fingers, ignoring their damming ability almost entirely. Without words she rushed to the bathroom, flinging open EJ''s medicine cabinet and rummaging through for whatever she could find to patch the cluster of holes in her now-aching shoulder.


    "Fuck! Fuck! EJ, what the Hell?! Are you insane? That stuff is toxic, not to mention, oh, my blood?! I don''t care how fucking angry you are, I know, I said some dumb shit and I''m super sorry, but- fuck, where are your bandages?! How do you not have fucking gauze?!"


    EJ didn''t take the time to explain why she didn''t need gauze. Stumbling to the kitchen sink she filled her mouth with water, swishing and spitting, trying desperately to clear her mouth of the vile and indigestible substance which filmed it. Thinking as she extradited the repulsive taint in her mouth, she considered what she knew of first aid. Stopping or slowing the bleeding should be their priority. She needed to find a tourniquet.


    Too bad she didn''t have anything even remotely resembling one. Unless...


    The irony of it all was almost shameful in its own right. Trembling hands raced up to the buckle of her collar and slipped it free, her feet stumbling once or twice in her frantic, emotional dash, but carrying her true to the bathroom. The collar was offered, shaken like a rattle in front of Est''s face to try and get her attention.


    "Est - E-Est, here, use this as a tourniquet; we''ve- we''ve gotta stop the bleeding, I... I don''t know what came over me, I''m so fucking sorry, I... please, here, use this, we can slow down your bleeding and get something over the bite-" The ghoulette''s words were shaky as she said them. EJ''s rage was draining fast, replaced with worry and doubt. Why had she bitten her? EJ had never bitten another person in all her time as a ghoul, not once. The simple act was enough to get you in jail, and now she had chomped down on someone hard enough to cause such damage. Why had she done that?


    "A tourni- shit, yeah, that''s smart! Here, give it to me!" Est babbled rapid-fire in her haste to staunch the bloodflow, taking the collar without second thought. She almost tore it from EJ''s hands, curling it around her under-arm and using her teeth to tighten it like a heroin user; warnings flared in her head about losing usage of her right arm due to entering stasis mode, but stasis was better than bleeding out on the floor. She sprayed her face with her own nutrio-fluid as its flow became acute and then halted, now a mere slow beading that she had an idea of her own on how to deal with.


    EJ gulped down air, trying to calm herself. Everything was happening so fast. It felt like it was all at once... Like she just needed to lie down alone, to think things through. She was about to tell Est as much when she saw the white of Est''s towel ripple through the arm, torn away to now act as a makeshift bandage. She caught a full eyeful of the hitwoman''s physique and found herself momentarily enthralled, though she slammed her lids shut and turned away once she realized how badly she was gawking.


    Est was fit, of course - tight, toned abs, curated muscle tone and free of blemish or damage, her hips and rear much more forgiving than her chest. However, it was more than just her musculature that had EJ staring only moments ago: her torso was completely human still, only the arms and legs being truly mechanized. Beneath the flesh she doubtlessly had inorganic viscera, but barring those, she still held some of the humanity that supposedly was thrown away when one embraced the New Way. She wasn''t a complete aug. She could go back, some day.


    In the UNAC, there is a saying: "The New Way is more like the One-Way". Those who embody it often spring for full-body packages to allow for ease of optimization; if all parts are purchased and installed at once it''s more like stuffing guts in a mech suit, rather than welding mechanica onto a flesh-body dummy. In the West, the idea was the opposite: get all your therapies done in a piecemeal format so your genes and body could adjust, letting every organic extremity catch up before a new therapy was applied. This is part of what created the rift between the two ideologies.


    Est noticed EJ''s embarrassment, but didn''t seem to be too uncomfortable; she just grabbed another towel and bound it about her waist like a kilt, letting her perky chest hang free. She went to take a seat on the lip of the tub, sighing and looking at her right hand. Open, close, open, close, slower and slower each time - it was losing power, just as her support system had told her it would. Soon it''d be dead weight until she could seal the wounds. Normally they''d go on their own, but the nutrio-fluid needed to heal her vein first before it could focus on the flesh, and it would never be able to do that with bloodflow continuing as it had been.


    Silence felt deafening. Est watched her hand and eyed her bite wound; EJ leaned against the wall and took deep and slow breaths to pace her weary heart, wishing she were in bed. They both languished in it, reveled in it, letting this moment of nonverbal calm cut through everything else that had happened tonight. Words were hard, anyways. Unnecessary. Undesirable, oftentimes. They got in the way.


    EJ broke the calm first. "Est... I''m gonna head to bed. I think the both of us are tired and emotional and need to sleep. I''m... I''m sorry I bit you." She couldn''t look up at Est as she said it, embarrassment and nerves keeping her from catching the other woman''s eye. She was sure she''d get her words caught in her throat if she even tried.


    "...yeah. Good plan. Where should I sleep, eh? I don''t think I saw a couch here anywhere..."


    EJ''s nerves re-introduced themselves. Of course there was only one place for Est to sleep - EJ was rarely awake and home enough to make use of anything like a couch, so she didn''t really have seating anywhere, or at least seating one could properly sleep in. Her only option was-


    "-the bed. I''ll put down two pillows, to divide us, and we can sleep with our backs to eachother. Then we''ll figure out where to get you situated tomorrow, but for now, I can''t be fucked to deal with making some kind of... shelter or something for you."


    Est nodded. It was as good as anything; in fact, it was pretty damn kind of EJ. Her bed had to be the best spot in the house of what sparse few existed, and inviting her there without so much as a blink took guts. The Italian took to her feet and approached EJ, gesturing out with her one functional arm.


    "Alright," Est said, "- lead the way."


    -


    EJ''s room was kind of embarrassing. Her walls were white and plain, and her floor was padded with thick omber carpeting. Decor was modern art-deco and very sleek and stylish, offering a refreshing touch of style from the spartan landscape in the majority of the dwelling. The bed, in particular, was large; extremely large, in fact. California King. EJ was a restless sleeper, and the bed had come as a recommendation from a sleep analyst who was later busted for taking kickbacks from a mattress supplier. Regardless, EJ kept the enormous furnishing, thinking it a fun focal piece and potential conversation starter if anyone came over.


    This was the first time in almost eight years since purchasing it that anyone other than herself had seen the damn thing.


    The pair dipped to their skivvies, each facing away from eachother to preserve one another''s dignities, the rustling of clothing and the gentle whoosh of an overhead fan contributing wholly to the bedroom ambiance. Finally, the pair were down to nearly-nude, each clambering up into the monolithic object''s cushy abyss. Pillows were arranged to form a territorial line, and lights were shut off with the sound of two claps in the air.


    EJ sighed as she settled in, silken sheets and downy comforters attempting to drown her in pleasant surrender. She was tempted to allow them. However, she took this time to try and reflect upon the past few days, to think of what all had happened - and it had happened so fast.


    She was late for work. Her apartment was collateral damage from a dangerous terrorist attacks. She had been drugged at the club. She had lost her virginity to a woman she was starting to suspect was a cam-girl. She had been scolded by Judas (not uncommon). She had been... consoled, by Judas. She had nearly been turned into an unwilling relief. She had been saved from this fate by the same terrorist that torched her domicile. She had bitten this terrorist on the shoulder in a fit of rage.


    She had cried a lot.


    Not the worst. Not the best, either, and certainly a lot to take in... but something told her the worst and best were yet to come. And so, she snuggled into her side of the bed and let out a soft whisper which remained unanswered until she fell completely asleep.


    "Goodnight, Est."


    There was no indication the other girl had heard, but of course, it was crystal-clear to her. She waited and waited without a sound for EJ to fall asleep, to lower her defenses, and after nearly twenty-five minutes of staring into the darkness Est got her chance. She slithered over between the sheets, moving away some of the pillows, and sidled up to EJ. She couldn''t see her normally, but she didn''t need to for what she planned to do. Her hands went out, and...


    ...wrapped around the smaller girl''s midsection, pulling her close. Est''s lips parted gently to release a parting phrase of her own, one that made her smile sweetly, even after the night''s turmoil.


    "Sleep tight, EJ."


    -


    A little spoon and a big spoon formed a pair of dull cutlery in the bed''s embrace. By morning, EJ was smiling in her sleep and her hair was like a veil for Est. They were snug and cozy and without worry for a few hours, and that was honestly enough. In their minds they dreamt of better times, and they slept well. EJ awoke only once during the night, and was soothed by the soft sensation of pseudoskin against her own. She didn''t even register it was Est.


    All seemed right with the world, for once, and they were happy. Together. Snoozing.


    And then, at twelve PM, the phone rang.

 Act One (Ch. 9) - Dream a Little Dream of Me; or, Three Rights Do Make A Left

    Ring ring. Moshi moshi, EJ-desu.


    EJ was awoken with a start, eyes bleary but well-rested from the early bedtime, mind abuzz from the blaring ringer. She wasn''t a morning person on the best of days, but now, after such stress and worry, she wasn''t looking forwards to any more bullshit. Somewhere in her head she vaguely recollected that it was Sunday, and that this shouldn''t be about work... but Judas''s ringtone, an organ-synth beat as foreboding and intense as the woman herself, called out just the same.


    She moved to grab it but almost immediately noticed something was wrong. Something felt... off about this whole thing. The answer came in the form of a sleepy yawn from Est, who was playing big spoon to her little ladle. One strong, synthetic hand was lazily placed at her EJ''s outer thigh, taking great presumptions about their relationship; the other was still at Est''s side, tourniquetted away. The cyborg was fast asleep, presumably in some kind of rest mode.


    EJ almost screamed from surprise alone, but held her tongue; her skin prickled with gooseflesh, but slowly worked itself back down. She''d deal with that later; a call from Judas was way more important than a (begrudgingly cute) acquaintance accidentally sleep-fondling her.


    Click. "Hello? Judas? What-", EJ stopped to yawn, then following through. "What''s up? It''s Sunday, I''m still off..."


    "Oh, uh... Hey. I was just calling to make sure you''re sleeping somewhere safe. You didn''t notify me if your apartment was... livable, so I wanted to follow-up with you this morning." Judas''s voice was much more measured than the last time the pair spoke, that same vampiric dominance and swagger dripping through the phoneline, but softened. EJ felt her own mood become more tender, again able to feel that trepidation in her superior''s voice. She cleared her throat.


    "Yeah. Apartment''s fine, I''m fine, shit''s all fine, Jude - er, sorry, Judas. Just tired. Long... long night. I''m almost excited to be at work tomorrow, haha..."


    Judas chuckled under her breath at EJ''s response, going to give one of her own - her tone had lowered and warmed, some of that bussinesslike pretense dropped. "Jude is fine, just a bit... weird. I''m glad you''re ok, uh... Eej? No, that sounds bad. Gonna have to stay as EJ. And I''m excited for you to be at work tomorrow, too - on time, right?"


    Right.


    "Yes!" EJ began, careful not to be too loud and wake the sleeper at her side. " ''fcourse on-time, Judas! That''s what we agreed on, right? And, well... Shit, I wanna keep my job, hahaha!" That was true, but her mirth was a bit forced. Still, it was just banter; it warmed her chest and lowered her shoulders, comforting her to hear the familiar woman''s voice.


    "Good. I''ll be expecting you with that big razor grin and an armful of papers on-the-dot 1:30 PM. Now get some more sleep, would you? You sound exhausted." The smile in Judas''s voice was apparent, though she was stifling the tone. Better than nothing, though. Better than being cold.


    EJ smiled right back, expression melting gently beneath the unexpected positivity from her boss. She looked down at the girl at her side - her pseudoflesh foreign but comforting, her chest rising and falling in dull rhythm - and nodded. She could sleep a bit longer.


    "Yeah, Jude. I''ll snuggle up a bit longer. See you tomorrow."


    *Click*.


    The call was over, and EJ''s phone was slipped beneath her own expansive pillow. She slithered down into Est''s embrace once more, putting her rear end vaguely near the other girl''s lap to give the suggestion of spooning, and nestled up as best she could without giving away too much contact. Her head craned over to try and get a look at Est, just to check her shoulder - it was exposed from the covers to keep from staining them, and it seemed the bleeding had stopped. Good.


    Was bleeding the right word, even? Could a machine bleed? She shook the thought from her head; she was still a bit disdainful of Est, but there was something that kept her from outright hating her. She was just a person, after all - and maybe part of EJ, deep inside, sympathized with her aims. God knew the blonde had mixed feelings about undeath, and had considered it a curse in the past. A damnation, even - the burden of eternal life in servitude to a system that didn''t care for you.


    Est was on the flipside of the same coin: machines couldn''t die, and a brain made of wires and code could just be rebooted, transferred to a new chassis. The ghoulette had no idea just how far-gone Est was, how much of her body or internals were truly mechanized, but did it matter? The woman in her bed was more filigree than flesh, despite the warmth of her torso only inches away from EJ''s back. She could scarcely be more different physically, but in broader terms, were they so different?


    EJ''s eyes looked to the door, where Est had stowed her armor - and her sword.


    No, they were different. Vastly different.


    Est''s arm adjusted itself to pull EJ a touch closer, the ghoul not even thinking of resisting it. Warm flesh touched cool, and she closed her eyes, taking a deep breath in through her mouth and out through her nose. It felt nice to be held, even if it was accidental. It felt secure.


    Her eyes opened again to stare into the darkness of the room, taking some time now to consider the events of the past few days - or rather, to think to the future regarding it all. She began with Judas, starting a list in her mind''s eye.


    Judas had been... strange to her. Usually her boss was detached and even cruel, but recently she had been softening up; she had even treated her to dessert at lunch the other day. The calls, the shift in tone, the concern... What was up with that? Was she trying to warm EJ up for something? Maybe she was trying to build the secretary''s confidence so she could drop her back down again. That was a very Judas thing to do. It was no secret she had chosen the iconic betrayer as her namesake, after all.


    Next was Puri.


    She didn''t really know much about Puri yet, but at the same time she had felt so comfortable with the pink-haired party girl. From their breakfast in bed to their chatting about her life, EJ had felt at-ease in a way she could rarely afford nowadays. She felt warm again. Their whirlwind little romance was the breath of life she had needed to restore some confidence in herself, and Puri hadn''t once second-guessed or admonished her. Waking up in her bed had been a scary start to a wonderful experience, though EJ couldn''t have asked for more.


    But on the flip side, of course, Puri''s intent was suspect at best. Sure, she had been kind, and gentle, and made EJ feel so calm and confident, but at the same time, intimacy at the drop of a hat brought a new kind of insecurity to bear within the ghoulette''s heart. Surely that wasn''t all she had wanted, especially since she had given her gifts and social media tags, but was it all marketing? Was she just trying to get EJ to repay her somehow? The idea that the sweet and seductive club starlet had somehow been using her to get ahead made EJ''s stomach knot. Or, at least, she assumed that''s why it hurt.


    And then, finally, Est.


    Est was an oddity, but EJ had already done plenty of thinking about her. She was a compassionate killer, a somewhat socially-awkward and rather brusque woman with headstrong tendencies, a dab hand in swordsmanship, and a stunted sense of self-awareness or shame. To say nothing of her technological enhancement, she was a wildcard in the grand scheme of things that was hard to even consider next to the other two. The idea that there was even some kind of comparison was strange to think of.


    It was too much for her right now. Back to sleep. Back to nothingness. Back to safety.


    Maybe she''d have a dream tonight.


    -


    Evening. EJ woke up with a yawn and a smacking of her lips, reaching up to wipe her eyes. She felt chilly between the silken sheets, her body cooler than usual. What was wrong...?


    The gentle light of Vitus''s nightlife told her the answer, let in through an open window, the heavy curtains pulled aside. She reached over to touch Est and found her absent, the pillow territory re-formed, the bedroom empty of anyone but herself. No sound came from the living room or kitchen, and so she assumed they held similar emptiness. She was alone again.


    The pillow Est had been resting on bore a paper scrap where her head had been, with a note written in pen. EJ took it in hand and put it beneath the moonlight where it would shine, her legs swung over the side of the bed; the chill night air licked at her like a graveyard kiss, yet she did not shy away.


    "Esper James,


    Hey. I thought about it some more, and frankly, you were right. I don''t really know what I was thinking, being a shithead to you. I''m heading out. Sorry for the inconvenience. For your sake, forget me. We barely met anyways, so let''s not make it weird."


    And that was it. It felt hollow, but it was also true - they''d barely met. It wasn''t exactly a friendship, even, but still EJ felt empty. Knowing as few people as she did, having one leave so abruptly, especially when she''d started to actually warm up to her... The wind in her sails died without ceremony or flourish. Maybe she would see Est again. Maybe not.


    Probably not.


    The note was crumpled, then ripped, then trashed. EJ let her home stay dark for a while longer, the window remaining opened - it was 6:00 PM about, and the city outside was bustling. Cars honked and tired squealed; music from bistros and theatre houses rolled in on winter winds; the scent of societal decay was caught dead within the icy air. In the distance, sirens blared - another crime committed, another late response, another second-living. Another one damned to eternity.


    Breakfast was prepared in the shade, a loaf of thin rye and fresh white onion sliced to make tiger meat with premium beef. This, now, was good enough to undo the knot within EJ''s gut - tiger meat for a hungry predator, aptly named and aptly consumed. She sat at the table alone as she ate and drank, water and red flesh, bread and onion and pepper and salt. It was good in a strange way - soft ground meat like a heavy spread upon thick bread, salted and peppered, with the crunch and juice of onions helping to add solidity and texture. Not for everyone, and hard to eat with fangs solely, but EJ mostly sliced it and swallowed the rest whole.


    She dressed then, a light tank-top and pajama pants, before laying back on top of the bed. One of the pillows bisecting the mattress was stolen away to be a snuggle partner, it''s owner wrapping one arm about it as her other reached for her phone.


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    Unlocking the screen rewarded her with a message from Purity, or as her tAsT nickname called her, ''Mommy Puri''. EJ smiled gently as she saw it, transitioning to her DMs to reply. Hopefuly Puri was still around.


    Mommy_Puri: << Yo! U around? Hope ur feelin ok! <3 >>


    ghoulPower: << Ye. Wbu? I had fun the other day. Hope we can see eachother again soon. >>


    Mommy_Puri: << Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmm >>


    Mommy_Puri: << Maybe kinda bold but y not rn? I''m free ;P >>


    EJ had to stop, to think, to take a deep breath. Part of her wanted to rest. To relax. To just stay in those pajama pants and that tank top and look at the ceiling and think about tomorrow. She had to work tomorrow, after all, and God damnit she wasn''t too excited for it. She wanted to languish and have a pity party for herself and just sleep more until it was time to wake once more.


    But, then again... Puri didn''t seem the type to need a whole lot of pretense or posturing around. She was easy to please, or so she seemed. Maybe it would be ok to just... relax around her.


    ghoulPower: << Sure. My place or yours? >>


    Mommy_Puri: << Urs. Gimme ur address, I''ll head right over. >>


    ghoulPower: << Kehler Complex, floor 25, apt 2091. Its right by the back stairs. You can''t miss it. >>


    Puri sent back a thumbs up, and like that she was back offline. EJ looked at the screen for a few moments more, wondering if this was the right choice, second-guessing the social interaction. Hopefully it''d be worth it. Maybe they''d screw again. The thought drew a wry smile from the ghoul before she shook her head; no, just a joke to herself. She wasn''t in the mood for it anyways.


    Up she went, feet on the floor, trotting to the bathroom. Time to observe the damage from last night. The room was a mess: sticky blue blood gave a bitter, almost vegetative scent like rotten broccoli from where it lay pooled and half-dried on the floor; pill bottles and medicine boxes were tossed around like trash, laying where they were thrown; towels were lumped on the floor from Est''s attempts to stop the bleeding.


    EJ set about on hands and knees to wipe up the dark cerulean stain, washcloth from the cupboard run beneath hot water and detergent. It wiped up easily enough, but that rotten nutrio-fluid scent was now clung to the washcloth itself like a putrid perfume. The solution to this was easy enough - she stood and walked calmly to the open window in her bedroom, where she wound back and pitched the newly-ruined rag into the alleyway behind the complex. Fuck it - someone else''s problem now. It could join the rest of the stinking trash.


    Then it was back to the bathroom to shower, just a quick one before Puri arrived. The pills and shit could wait; she didn''t have the energy to worry about them right now, anyhow. Comfy clothes were stripped away and tossed aside, her newly nude form taking place in the glass-doored cubicle. Hot water was refreshing to say the least, and she welcomed the embrace of heat against how chilling her apartment was now. Their juxtaposition helped her maintain some of her motivation, enough to finish the shower and dress. The best she could do to spruce herself up and be a bit more romantic was a spritz of perfume on her humble chest, on her sternum between her breasts.


    In truth, it was less a perfume and more a cocktail of pheromones - for the second-living such things were more fetching than normal scents, piercing through the jumble of heightened sensation to offer solace and sensuality that went further than raw aroma. This one was meant to excite the blood and encourage muscle movement, like a stimulant - it had a lowered effect on humans, but the bouquet of lilacs and pineapple it brought with it was still enough to be tempting. It would work, for now.


    She was as ready as she could hope to be for the impromptu get-together. As ready as she cared to be, at least. She wandered about slowly turning on the lights, humming a soft and sad tune to herself; Puri couldn''t see in the dark like she could, so the need for illumination was dire. And that was when she saw it.


    On the floor, nearest the windowsill in her bedroom where she had let the moon in, sat a clump of fur. It was the color of starless night, and pristine and soft; there was enough to ball her fist around, and while the feeling was pleasant, it sent ice through her veins. The memory of a dream not too distant rippled in her mind''s eye, and she cast a wary glance across her surroundings.


    "H-Hello...? Is there a cat in here...?"


    No reply. She figured as much, but the dread prospect of hearing a purr or hiss in answer was enough to make her tense as she waited.


    She crept out of the bedroom then, eyes wide, pupils pinpricks. Another beckoning call left her lips, the ''pspspsps'' so rumored to draw those of feline nature, the utterer''s lips trembling as she vocalized. Still nothing, though the kitchen was next, and she wasn''t so sure the beast wouldn''t simply hide within a cupboard or cabinet.


    Would it even fit?


    She was stricken by the realization that if the dream-beast was truly in her home, she had no clue what she''d do if it revealed itself. True, it likely couldn''t kill her... though at the same time, what if it could? What might such a terrifying creature be capable of? What if it was more than mere flesh and blood?


    This frankly nauseating line of thought was interrupted by a stern knocking upon the front door, three thumps to signal a presence. EJ nearly leapt from her paper-thin skin at the startling sound, frantic gaze shooting to the faux wooden portal. Her worry, however, was assuaged in a mere moment - the outsider''s voice was comfortingly familiar.


    "Heeee-eeeeey~! EJ, let me innnn! Come on, it''s creepy out here! Some guy was staring at me in the stairwell!" Puri''s voice was far too loud and inviting for the cramped complex - she was practically begging for attention even as she attested against it. To EJ, however, it was just the safety blanket she needed. The blonde rushed to the door without a second thought, opening it up with as much restraint as she could manage - she didn''t want to seem desperate, after all.


    There stood Puri, all five feet ten inches of her, wrapped up in a fashionable black coat with wolf''s fur trim, a pair of dark grey leggings that said ''BITE ME/EAT ME'' on the left and right thighs, respectively, and trendy winter boots made of soft pink cloth with cotton liner. She had done her makeup as well, light pinks and dark black framing, with hints of glitter on her cheeks.


    To EJ, she was an oasis. Even simply seeing her filled the ghoulette with emotional warmth, and she rushed to hug her taller friend-with-benefits. Puri yelped with delighted surprise as the smaller girl''s strong arms encircled her, returning the favor without hesitation. EJ felt herself be lifted from the ground and pressed into the winter-warm cushion of Purity''s embrace.


    "Woah, haha! EJ! Hi, hi! Wow, someone''s excited to see me, huh? What''s got you so worked up, boo? Or are you just happy Purity''s here~?"


    Puri winked and laughed, swinging EJ gently from side to side before setting her back down. EJ didn''t let go immediately; in fact it took her a few moments to realize Puri was giving her back her freedom. She stepped back, face tinting with what blood she had available. Seeing Puri''s smile, though, had her offering one in kind.


    "Sorry, s-sorry, just... I think a wild animal got into my apartment. I didn''t notice until after we talked, I-" EJ was cut off by a hand over her lips, the gentle pat transitioning to a squishing of the cheek between thumb and forefinger.


    Puri rolled her eyes, waggling EJ''s head by the loose two-pronged grip. "A wild animal. Here. In Vitus. I... are you feeling ok, boo? Is work stressing you out? I think you might need a little bit of time to de-stress, haha!"


    EJ was a doormat for the physical control Puri was prone to exerting, and she could do little more than babble softly between pursed, pouting lips in response. When Puri finally freed her she went to raise up the fistful of fur she still held, pointing at it with her other hand.


    "Puri, what the fuck else could this be from, huh? It''s not mine! My hair''s blonde!"


    Puri was silent, looking from EJ''s hands to her face then back again. She opened her mouth to say something, glossy bubblegum lips parted and prepared to query, but shut them again after a few brief moments. Her hands went out gingerly to lay upon EJ''s bare shoulders, turning her back towards the apartment.


    "EJ, let''s... let''s get you inside, ok? You should sit down. I''ll get you some water, we can watch a movie or something."


    EJ was incredulous. Her eyes darted from Puri to her open hand - where she held nothing but healing scars, marked from where she had been digging her nails into her palm. The fur was nowhere in sight.


    She was silent, mind ablaze, while Puri ushered her inside, shutting and locking the door behind her. A speechless and frazzled ghoulette was led straight to the expansive white couch, a comforting monolith in the center of an otherwise rather minimalist apartment. While she sat, Puri removed her jacket and tossed it over a chair, revealing a dark red sweater with a white heart pattern underneath.


    The two sat together in silence for a few moments, Puri''s arms finding their way around EJ and bringing the blonde''s head to rest on a red-clad shoulder. After a few minutes more Puri broke the silence, words murmured to keep from startling the other girl.


    "Heyyy. Hey. Let''s watch something. Do you have NetWatch? I''ve got an account, we can use mine - I''ve got a ton of great stuff lined up."


    The olive branch was met with a weak nod, and EJ scrounged up the remote from her side of the couch, handing it off. Puri took it with a smile and a squeeze of the shoulder, then going to flip through her expertly curated library of films. Horror didn''t seem to be the flavor of the day for obvious reasons, so she settled on rom-coms. Click!


    The pair of them settled in and snuggled up, letting the movie wash over them and glaze them in a soothing haze. Nothing like digital media to numb one''s worries, after all - plus, Puri had good taste. Soon enough the pair had shifted positions again, the smaller girl taking a seat in the taller one''s lap, the latter''s arms wrapped lazily around the former''s waist. They sunk into one another pleasantly, allowing warmth and affection to be shared from body to body.


    After a few hours the movie finished; EJ had laughed so hard she cried at some parts, and let Puri wipe away her tears during the emotional moments. When the two women on screen came together for their iconic kiss, EJ had felt her head be turned by her movie buddy, the lip-lock re-enacted between the two of them without fanfare or warning. It felt natural. It felt good. The first time they had kissed, she had felt blissful nothingness - this time, she felt fulfilling warmth and fondness. Puri calmed her frantic heart and mind in a way nothing else could.


    They sat there on the couch a few moments more, another film thrown on but neither of them watching this time; EJ had relaxed enough to converse, though their exchanges were mostly mumbled compliments and cute phrases. Puri took the lead once more, shifting the framework conversation to something more meaty.


    "So... EJ. I''m guessing you''re single, right?"


    The words hit like a hammer blow, but Esper James stayed strong and nodded. "Yeah," she said, "I''m single. Have been for, like... forever. I don''t really have much time to date, and ghouls aren''t..."


    "Aren''t what? Desirable? Bullshit. You''re cute as hell, EJ; maybe you just haven''t met the right girl yet, you know? Plenty of fish in the barrel." Puri''s face was layered with encouraging signs, a big smile and bright, friendly eyes. They made EJ''s heart race.


    "W-Well, uh... why do you ask?" Playing coy wasn''t EJ''s strong suit, but she hoped it was believable. Puri didn''t seem to want to break her illusion either, so she played along, giggling into EJ''s ear.


    "Because I think you''re cute, dummy. But more than that, well... I told you I wanted you to guest star in one of my performances with me, remember? I was making sure it''d be ok. I don''t want to be some kind of homewrecker, you know?"


    EJ tensed again. "A performance, like... Burlesque or something?" She asked it naively, still playing coy; after all, what else could she say? Her tender heart didn''t dare address it directly.


    Puri just laughed. "Yeah... something like that. Maybe less clothes, though, but the hip motions''ll be about the same."


    That one got EJ to laugh too, if a bit nervously, and the pair cuddled up a touch closer. ''Not tonight'' was an unspoken agreement, but one that they both strongly felt. It would be a waste to ruin the romance in the air with an audience.


    After a while more of resting on the couch they sat down for dinner, EJ cooking up some spare fillets in a brown sugar barbecue sauce; Puri didn''t seem worried in the slightest about the lack of veggies, popping a small pill into her mouth before the meal began. They spoke as they ate, small talk just to hear one another''s'' voice, smiling and laughing and looking back and forth. By time They finished, shared one more kiss, and said their goodbyes, EJ had almost completely forgotten the clump of fur. Puri slipped out the door and into the night, and EJ settled back down into her bed, deciding to get an early sleep so she could wake up on time tomorrow.


    As she settled down in bed, her stomach growled painfully; maybe the beef had been bad? Usually that wouldn''t be a problem, but things had been strange recently. She wouldn''t put it past Lady Luck to slip her some bad meat in her dinner. She just hoped Puri wasn''t feeling it.


    When she finally got to sleep, she dreamt of flesh. Of meat. Of hunger.


    Of digging her teeth in, and never letting go.

 Act One (Ch. 10) - One Title鈥檇 Chapter; or...

    Sleep. Sleep brought hunger. Hunger brought desire. Desire brought inhibition. Three, threes, always in threes.


    Esper James Price-Wynnfield slept quite unsoundly that night, her head rolling hot on the pillows, her hair a messy nest fit more for a bird than a beauty. In her head, there was an imbalance - a ticking in the brain, a clog in the synapses. In sleep she licked her teeth till her tongue bled, then she drank it down; it soothed her more than mere rest, and soon she was sated once more, at least in the waking world. In her mind''s eye, she saw only one thing:


    Meat.


    Flesh. Blood. Gore. Carnage. Viscera. In her dream, she was in an abattoir; her fingers clawed with knives, her mouth a vulgarity of razors and saws. The interior was cool and grey and tiled, and the lighting dull and drear; carcasses of unknown animals hung from heavy iron hooks, slowly drifting down a suspended rail. They dripped blood into a festering gutter, and rats fought for the choicest dregs. The air was cool, which helped cut the scent a bit - however, the sharp tang of iron still cut through, mingled with the cloying grip of airborne rot.


    Normally, this was a sight to make one''s stomach turn - and in a way, it did. Esper James could feel her stomach bundling into knots as she looked down at herself - at the heavy black waders, her torso bare save for a stained white apron, her legs ensconced within brown leathers. She was just clothed enough to feel so, but not clothed enough to prevent her flesh from pricking at the chill. In her dream, she could feel it all; no more numbing of the nerves against frost.


    However, this knotting, this entwining upon itself, was not nausea. It was a voracious, empty pit; the pangs of desire denied. Looking at the bared flanks and bleeding cuts felt like an ulcer waiting for excision, a bruise pressed with cruel purpose. Her tongue swam in it''s own drool. She. Was.


    Hungry.


    She took a step forwards, brain hazy, eyes a blur as they inspected the display. Was it... Pork? Beef? Chicken? No, not chicken, that was stupid - imagine the outroar about chickens bastardized to be this size! No, it had to be beef or something. Another step, then another, and then she was standing in the gutter only inches from the hanging mess - up close, the smell of rot had faded. That salty, sultry, fatty aroma of frying flesh came to her now, flooding her nostrils and boggling her already addled head. Some small part of her knew that this was bad meat, that this made no sense, that she shouldn''t be here -


    She stuck her tongue out and gave it a lick. Oh, heaven. There was a distinct sensation to even trying it - a fuzzy electrical peal that coursed through her half-dead veins and made her shudder. She took another step and the meat was in her hands. She blinked, and it was in her mouth. Dark red flesh and pale, buttery fat was shorn free of the dangling delight, and she found blood dribbling down her chin and onto her bare chest and apron. It already soaked her bare fingers, but she didn''t give a good God damn.


    The bite in her mouth made the rarest, most decadent A5 steak seem like diner-fodder. The salty tang of blood and red meat was met with the gushing, creamy juices of fat and membrane; umami and savory mingled with one another in a vivacious parade across her palate. Chewing brought ecstasy on it''s own - the string of the gristle between her teeth, the way the fibers were slashed so cleanly and easily by her fangs, the mouthfeel of the brawn so excellently wet and tender...


    She swallowed and could scant suppress a moan. That grounded her, and she took a step back, looking herself over - the goosebumps no longer simply a counter to the cold, but born from excitement. Anticipation. A trembling hand reached out to slice away another bite just as easily as she knew it would, and she drew from her meal a large and meaty rib. This, too, was consumed - slowly, as a test - and the pleasure it wrought was inhuman.


    It felt wrong. Something about this all seemed too indulgent, too wonderful. And yet, even as she pondered she downed rib after rib until none remained, and then traversed to the flanks, and then the rump, and then she had torn her quarry all down to the hook. Naught remained but a satisfying belch and a layer of sloppy red across face and body and hair.


    Once she had finished, she backed away. EJ felt woozy from the rapid consumption, and yet her stomach craved, nay, demanded more. No more remained for her, though; she had been cut off. Momentary relief at her source being stifled was replaced with despair, then depression, then desperation - despite her own mental urgings she felt herself trudge down the line looking for more, deeper into this dimly-lit facility. What seemed like hours passed in near-darkness as she hunted, the narrow walls of the meat rail edging closer and closer together...


    ...until she was released into a similar chamber as the one before, albeit cleaner. There was no smell of rot here; there was only a trickle of warm blood on the floor. Upon the hook sat a strange form, more meat of indeterminate origin - it''s skin was free of blemish and looked soft and fatty, far more appetizing than the last. This she assaulted with vigour, and ate with great joy. However, something strange pierced the delicious aroma of meat; she could not initially smell it, and even once she could she had trouble pinpointing it.


    EJ''s eating slowed as she focused now on this scent, so familiar and yet so foreign. It was gaudy, hazy, uncertain; she furrowed her brow as she gobbed a mound of muscle, something like a thigh flank being sliced to ribbons and ground to goo in her jaws. She was halfway done with this hunk of meat when she heard something sliding down the rail - another hook.


    "Mmmph - more? I-If you insist, haha!" She laughed with giddy, drunken delight, the blood in her veins causing her head to be more wired than a Christmas light. As the whirring of the rail grew louder, the scent came closer, floral and citrus and candy and... bubblegum.


    Nausea again. Terror. Dread, in fact; the tiny conscious that had been screaming in her mind was in control again, but she could do nothing other than stagger away from her current prey as the next meal was brought in, mangled and torn. It looked like the remains of a car wreck, but all the right parts were recognizable - the limbs, the torso, the head, the rump. She felt tears gather in her eyes even as hunger tried to urge her forwards, two minds fighting within one skull, her mouth watering at the sight. She stared at its atrophic silhouette with watering ducts, trying to back away even as she staggered forth.


    The meat''s head jerked in an impossible way to face her, causing the blonde butcher to stumble into the bloody gutter. EJ''s lips trembled and she flipped between baring her teeth and gaping her mouth with horror.


    There were no features, just a flat space, but strands of pink remained. When it spoke, it had Puri''s voice. When EJ awoke, she could not remember the words - but she could remember that blank canvas glaring into her, the mockery of life and death brought on by her greed for meat. It gave her dread and guilt in equal measure, and she woke up screaming into the darkness; the lights were thrown on immediately to cast away any hiding places.


    It harrowed her. It felt ill. It was the truest nightmare she had had in many years, and while the feeling of eating had been orgasmic, the realization of her indulgence was maddening. However, that was not the worst of all.


    The worst of all is that thinking of it made her hungry.


    -


    Beep! Beep! Beep!


    Her alarm, again. She awoke with a sick feeling in her stomach and a red stain around her lips. Quick inspection told her that it was her own blood, which was good - Puri hadn''t stayed the night, thankfully, she had just used the bathroom and left after they had finished snuggling. As such, EJ''s sweat-soaked bed was occupied by her and her alone.


    It was just as well. She wasn''t sure she could face Puri now. Her perfume would just make EJ hungrier.


    She crawled out of bed at 11:00 AM, cursing her new, earlier schedule. God, she could see the sun from the window in her bedroom that she had forgotten to re-curtain from Est''s escape... Fuck, that burnt. It was like staring straight into a lightbulb, just seeing so much natural sunlight. A shut-eyed scramble over there led to her ramming straight into the wall like a dunce, yelping as she went face-first into the stucco, but she was back up quickly and righted the wrong of the open curtain.


    Right. Now that that was fixed and her apartment was almost entirely dark, she wandered back out into the living room - ass-naked and tummy grumblin'' - to find her way to the bathroom. She had to shower, brush her teeth, take her - Oh. Fuck.


    Her pills!


    Of-fucking-course! She quickly tried to think back to the last time she had downed her daily dose of FixAte, and came up with bad news: Friday at best. There was a reason it was a daily drug, of course - the cravings came hard and fast, especially for a Ghoul, and even now three days late she could feel herself yearning for the raw''n''bloody. Her footsteps padded quickly towards the bathroom, soft carpet giving way to cool tile.


    Her medicine cabinet was thrown open, still a mess from when Est had been over. Her collar from Puri sat within, with a small note from Est mentioning she had cleaned it - how thoughtful. However, there was something missing. Her FixAte. It was gone. Absolutely gone. The lights flicked on and she searched again, then again, then once more - sweat beading at her brow, breath getting hot and heavy and rapid, pupils contracting from anxious pressure.


    She felt nauseous for the second time this morning as she rifled through bottles of estradiol and spironolactone, ibuprofen and cough syrup, hunting for a prize she knew wasn''t there. Where had it gone? Had Est thrown it out? Had Puri stolen it? Had that fucking cat done something with it?! She even checked the bathtub, the sink, the damn toilet tank, and came to the same result. Nothing. They were gone.


    EJ stopped, taking a deeeeeep breath, eyes shut and hands a''tremble. This would ruin her if it got out. She was practically a criminal. She''d go to jail and even the sex-perverts and granny-scammers would look down on her for being a deplorable little cannibal. She''d get rehab''d until she could rejoin normal society, but she knew what that looked like, what it did to your brain. She''d be a janitor until kingdom come, a lobotomite trapped in an undying shell.


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    "No, EJ, breathe," she said to herself, "it''s not that bad. It could be a lot worse! You can just... just pick some up after work today. Easy. Tell them it''s an express order. You''ll need to pay a little more, maybe tighten up your belt a bit, but you can afford it. Easy. Easy easy easy. G-God, I hope it''s easy..."


    *Beep! Beep! Beep!*


    Oh, God damnit! The alarm again - 12:00 already. She had limited time. The ghoulette began to stumble through her morning ritual with prodigious speed if not accuracy, brushing her teeth and showering and relieving herself in a blur of early-morning anxiety. Readied and clean, she quickly threw on her classic outfit - white blouse, black pencil skirt, black hose, and (you guessed it) black heels - before rushing out the door. She didn''t even have time for breakfast.


    Today, the stairwell felt just a little more claustrophobic. The view out onto Vitus was all the more depressing for it.


    -


    In past the heavy glass doors doors. In past the sneering security guards. In past the keypad-locked door that never accepted her keycard. In and into Judas''s foyer, with only a minute to spare. She punched in and then collapsed into her desk with a grateful sigh, nearly having an emotional moment at how close she had cut it. She had succeeded. She was safe.


    The door to Judas''s office opened, and a middle-manager with balding brown hair and pit-stains in his suit rushed out. A plastic binder full of papers followed after him, beaning him hard enough in the back of the head to knock him to the floor. Judas stomped out behind him, howling in German, just barely unable to catch him as he clawed his way back to his feet and dashed off while yelling apologies. She was about to let loose further obscenities until she turned and saw EJ. Her horrid scowl became a friendly, saccharine smile, and she clip-clopped over on the short carpet.


    "Esper James! Hello, glad to see you showed up to work on-time, as promised. I hope this is the start of a ''repeat performance'' for you. How was your bus ride here?"


    At first, honestly, EJ had no idea what to say - but she shrugged after some consideration, assuming that this was just... A day in the life for Judas. She usually didn''t listen in on the meetings, especially early morning ones before Judas had eaten lunch, so maybe this one was just particularly bad. "It was alright. I, uh... I missed breakfast, so that was kinda shitty, but otherwise pretty ok. In fact, I -"


    Judas listened to her with a slowly shifting expression, and eventually cut her off with a raised hand. She hunched down to get right up in the secretary''s personal space and furrowed her brow, taking a deep breath - sniffing at her, first in general, then her neck, then her hair. EJ found herself unable to pull away out of both fear and confusion, and physical force ensured it remained that way as Judas reached a hand out and took EJ in it by the back of the neck.


    "You smell... strange. Like bubblegum, but also like..."


    Judas didn''t finish that sentence, but her lips slowly curled into a smile. The smile became a grin, and the grin became a cackle even as EJ sat stock-still and terrified. What the fuck was happening? She had no clue, and with Judas, doing something new or unpredictable meant danger for whoever she was near.


    "...hmm. Interesting. Sorry, ignore that. You''re fine, I promise." Judas let go of her little lamb but kept up that horrid smile, even as EJ muttered out some kind of reply that ended up just being a little vocalization of acknowledgement. She brushed down her blouse and settled into her chair, clearing her throat once more.


    "Erm... Thank you, Judas. Hey, uh... I just wanted to... I wanted to thank you, for calling me. For being concerned about me. Calling me the other day was really nice of you. I''m feelin'' ok, as you can see, so... Thanks." She couldn''t even form up a sheepish smile, still jarred by the earlier strangeness of her superior, but she nodded and inclined her head to show some respect. Judas bought it wholesale.


    "Of course! Of course, EJ. I, well, I do want you to know I care about you, you know? You''re my best assistant, even if you''re a slacker and as fragile as paper-glass. In fact, being such a wimp is kind of endearing, you know? You''re cute because of it." Judas said this all like it should be some kind of compliment, but if it was, it was hella backhanded. There was no real affection in it, at least not without definite toxicity, but it still made EJ feel better. It was better than nothing.


    This exchange finished, and soon they went their separate ways - Judas to her office, EJ to her desk and work. Today was boring again. Lazy work for a lazy dame, and that was just fine in her book. She relished the relaxation, hoping to savor the moments of respite even as she fought with her weariness and anxiety. It helped calm her heart.


    Her job was, truthfully, easy - it was the environment that made it hard. All she had to do was manage Judas''s meetings, appointments, travel arrangements (which she didn''t often have), her daily schedule (which Judas dictated to her anyways), take phone calls and write down messages for her... all the tedious busywork, essentially. It wasn''t exciting, and she had hoped for some mobility after as many years as she had spent in the position, but... it was home.


    When she had started, Judas had been so sweet. So friendly. So caring. She hadn''t mentioned what happened to the last girl to be her secretary, but EJ assumed she just quit. Some days, she wasn''t so sure anymore. Over time Judas became more and more demanding, and more possessive, and more sadistic - she seemed to enjoy leading EJ on and building her up just to tear her down, and then swooping in to pick up the pieces and start again.


    It was unhealthy in all sorts of ways, but EJ just... took it. Toughed it out. Dealt with it. She bit the bullet and let Judas bully and belittle her if only for the paycheck, then went home and cried about her own misery while wishing that the vampiress was just a little bit sweeter to her. That she cared a bit more. Wishing she''d lighten up and try being her friend.


    The early morning work went by in a hazy blur of coffee and fat-crisps and phone calls from foreign clients trying to get their hands on some Tsang brand merchandise. Judas''s job was inscrutable to EJ, but presumably she was very important and quite influential - client would phone about anything and everything under the sun, and Judas would handle them. She spent all day in her office tending to the business EJ was tasked to give her, and seemed to use the little blonde as her punching bag when the stress boiled too hot and high.


    Ding. Eight PM. It was time to leave in a flash, the monotony of the day-to-day grind left behind to find her another day. EJ stood and shut down her computer, breathing a deep and sluggish sigh of relief. Judas had barely harried her during the day today, a blessing in and of itself, and now she was finally allowed to leave? Someone must''ve been smiling down on her today.


    As she began waking out the door, the one to Judas''s office opened, and her boss strode out. She had a queer little smirk on her face, and her hands were clasped behind her back as if she was smugly admiring her handiwork - or watching a train wreck play out, knowing Judas.


    "Oh, Esper James... I''d like to speak with you for a moment, if that''s ok. And of course it''s ok, since I''m your boss and you''re still on the clock."


    Yikes. Brutal. Judas loved to exert her power over EJ''s employment whenever she could, but this was particularly direct about it. Short of telling her she would get fired for walking away, this may as well have been coercion. EJ turned about-face, cowed by her superior''s dominant tone, hands clasped over her lap in a submissive gesture of one ready to bow on-command.


    "Yea- we, yes, Judas? What can I do for you?"


    This immediate deference made Judas''s grin blossom into a sadist''s beam, sanguine fangs bared and displaying their gold tips. She was as fond of flaunting her wealth as she was her power, though she was usually quite subtle about it. Usually.


    "Tomorrow, as you may know, is my birthday. As such, I''m requesting a very specific gift from you. Two, in fact. First..."


    She began to approach EJ now, still beaming, still vicious. Her long, silken, ebony hair reflected the light like a midnight waterfall; her lightly tanned skin spoke of a land of heat and desire far from the northern locale she was stationed in. And her eyes... The pupils were inky slits that seemed to form a whorl when stared into, their irises so gemlike and beauteous and red that they seemed nearly as blood. EJ could not help but be powerless beneath her sway, watching her superior''s lithe, healthy frame swagger ever closer.


    Judas put her hands on EJ''s shoulders as she had done oh so many times before, but her heat was magnetic now. That scent of blood and berries and cinnamon and wine was heady in the air and made EJ''s brain swim in tar, her survival instincts vaguely aware of the influence being laden upon her by her unholy hostess, but she could scant recoil. She simply watched, mouth slightly agape, as she was enthralled as prey.


    Judas adjusted a small necklace which lay upon her bare flesh and chest - a silver crucifix, laid upside-down as Saint Peter''s cross - to replace it upon a dark burn scar. It shimmered in what little luminance passed Judas''s shade.


    "Firstly, I want you to take the day off. Don''t worry, it won''t count against your PTO - I''m cruel but I''m not a monster, hahaha! We''ll be going on a... ''day-trip'' together, you and I. I''m thinking food, maybe a movie, and I''d love to take you to see some of my properties..."


    This manages to pierce through EJ''s fugue state, at least mentally; physically she was vegetative. A ''day-trip''? That was a date, for sure. A full-day date with Judas paying for all of it. A full day alone with a vampire. It made EJ sweat.


    Judas continued after letting it sink in, EJ''s mix of excitement and dread the exact reaction she was hoping for. Judas''s eyes crinkled with malice and delight, her predation as delicious as fine wine. She leaned in then, whispering from her lips to EJ''s ear, breath hot and tingling as it rushed onto cold flesh.


    "My second request... don''t take your medicine tomorrow. I want you... feral."


    A wave of cold swept across the tiny ghoul''s fragile form, from toe to tip then back again, making her shiver. Don''t take her meds? Her legally mandated appetite suppressant? The one that kept her from eating human fucking flesh and devolving into a primal, feral animal?


    "...I know, it''s scary, isn''t it? But I promise, you''ll have fun... Just stick it out one more day for me. One more little day, and I promise, you''ll have a blast..."


    Judas leaned in deeper, the delicate hands on EJ''s shoulders becoming tender vices as they drew the shorter girl forward. EJ''s heart leapt into her throat as she considered some kind of protest, but a dark temptation gripped her heart. She knew what happened next. It was... cathartic. Guilty. Enticing.


    Judas''s lips, soft and firm and lined with exotic lip gloss, pressed to EJ''s own in a rush of breath and scent and pheromones. Touching lips-to-skin with Judas was like a drug in it''s own right; now, with their bodies close and tongues entwined (Judas wasted no time taking what she desired), EJ was on a cloud. It reminded her dully of the feeling of her dream, how eating flesh had felt in those moments. It was undeniable.


    Hands shifted and placed themselves in new, exciting locations - Judas''s on EJ''s hips and rear and back, grasping the crest of her buttocks, while EJ''s caressed Judas''s shoulder blades. The ghoulette could tell her supervisor was taking great delight in how easily the secretary sunk into the needy, fervent embrace, but she wouldn''t give EJ everything - not yet. Not now.


    Judas pulled away slowly, threads of berry-flavored saliva trailing between their mouths, wiped away as Judas broke their shared intimacy. She laughed - a chuckle, then a cackle, then a snicker. Her lips graced EJ''s forehead once more in a bid for comfort for the girl before their owner pulled away, psychic drone of vampiric sway dulling into nothing.


    "Be there, and you''ll get more than just a kiss. I promise."


    Judas gently pushed EJ aside and stepped out the door, letting the blonde breathe for a few moments, decompressing from her recent adventure. She swallowed hard, looking down at herself and then letting out a heavy sigh. She wiped her lips of spit and shut her eyes, reliving the lightning in her neurons from the kiss, the explosive connection as volatile as a faulty power box. She could barely breathe.


    A date, then. With no meds, for one more day.


    What could go wrong?

 Act One (Ch. 11) - Prelude to Pestilence; or, Don Draculas Revenge

    Home again. No time for play today; it was the workweek, and so EJ was confined to a monotonous existence of work-home-work, day in and day out. She still felt dazed from her claustrophobic encounter with her supervisor, body tired and aching in the afterglow of it all. It had happened so fast, so intensely, and she hadn''t even been able to prepare herself... But Judas liked it that way, didn''t she? What she wanted, when she wanted. No disagreement or dissonance allowed in her perfect little corporate world.


    EJ clip-clopped up the stairs of her housing complex with a heavy chest and weary eyes. Hunger still gnawed at her, though it had dulled considerably; a little takeout in the form of pork tonkatsu from a local butchery had helped with that, the side of dried squid ''fries'' giving another crispy little treat to her end-day meal. She ate as she walked, taking in the sweetness of the sauce and the saltiness of the meat, her stomach growling loudly at her even as it was fed. Acid roiled and bubbled within, turning any meat-products she may have downed into liquid nutrients.


    Perhaps that was the one good thing about being second-living: fat didn''t cling on you like it did with the true-living. During the enigmatic process which created the undead, the gastrointestinal system was ''optimized''; what that meant, in layman''s terms, was that anything you ate that you could feasibly digest was entirely, wholly consumed. No excrement, no excess waste, some zombies didn''t even piss. Of course, if you ever wanted to change your body type, you had to head to a Tsang-run morgue and pay by the fistful. Raise your cup size? Gain a few more pounds on your thighs? Trying to build muscle? Tsang took the purse, and soon your body would acquiesce to your demands.


    EJ liked her petite look, frankly. She liked that she was smaller and lithe and a little bit frail; in her mind, it made her cute. Made her appealing. Everyone commodified themselves, whether through gene therapies or morgue treatments, plastic surgeries (which were a fairly outmoded concept nowadays) and targeted mutagens, trying to become... Something. Something others liked. For many, it meant ''something that gets me laid''. For others, it meant ''something that gets me noticed''. Esper James was a fan of option one, but could do without too much attention.


    She gripped the handle to her apartment and slipped in - happy to find nothing amiss within, no strangers in her home or things left astray. Not that that happened often, of course, or ever, to be honest; however, in recent days she had been given reason to be more wary about such things. Est said she''d leave and never come back, but there was a nagging feeling within the ghoul''s mind that this was just some tough talk. Call it a hunch.


    Down onto the couch now, she pulled out the remains of her food: half a pork tonkatsu cutlet (she had ordered two) and an untouched cup of squid-fries. Her TV went on and her feet went up on the coffee table, a deep breath of pre-relaxation coming out in a heavy huff of air. Cartoons were on, the adult kind where half the jokes were about sex and the other half were about violence. Something easy to let her mind drift away on while she ate, she figured. In between munching on her food she let her thoughts drift far and wide, trying to ready herself as best she could for the coming date.


    She''d need a cute outfit, EJ figured. Something dressy but not too dressy... Though to Judas, ''too dressy'' probably didn''t exist. Esper James had a smart little outfit in her closet that she wore for the last company anniversary party... That would have to work. It was pretty cute, she figured, plus wearing pants made her feel comfortable and safe. A skirt was fine when she was at work, but there had been almost no hinting as to what their ''day trip'' could be, and she really didn''t want to take the risk that whatever they ended up doing would cause her to give an impromptu show to onlookers... or her boss.


    Munch. Munch. Munch. Salty, fishy, crisp, greasy, and just light enough to not be revolting, the squid fries hit the spot. They were essentially just dried squid crammed into a sort of metal framework so they dried in a ''fry''-like shape, then briefly tempura''d in hot oil. The pork tonkatsu was heartier, the heavy notes of pork accentuated by light panko breadcrumbs and a thin inner juice of oil and savoury, meaty goodness. This, paired with the tart-but-sweet syrupyness of the katsu sauce, was more than enough to please the petite office-worker''s tummy. Or so she hoped.


    Where would a woman like Judas want to go on a date, anyways? A blood bank? EJ laughed at the visual of Judas sitting on a donation bench, IV bag of deep red in her hand, slurping it down through a straw like some kind of refreshing children''s juice drink. The more she thought about it, though, the more realistic that idea seemed - hell, Judas would probably do it just to make a point. She was that kind of lady, after all. Blood bank probably wasn''t the truth... But then what was? A high-end butchery? A movie? Maybe she''d just skip straight to the point and tell EJ to strip once she got her alone. It wasn''t an unthinkable possibility.


    Whatever. It wasn''t worth thinking about, at least not now. She had a few hours of rest before bed, and then she''d have tomorrow off for... A date.


    EJ watched tv for a few more hours, nibbling at her food, before retiring to bed. She brought her phone with, as one does, and lay there browsing for a few minutes. She was an avid mobile game player in her free time, a real gacha afficionado, and so that took up her time as she lay there - her two favorite games, one about mechas and the other about sexified historical characters, draining away another hour of time. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.


    And now it was time for her last nightly ritual: some self-love. A little shameful, sure, but endorphins were endorphins, and every modern-day wagie needed to take what they could get. Plain black panties with a matching bra were slipped free slowly without the use of hands, those manipulating digits busy finding something good to look at or watch. Art was a popular form of adult media nowadays, especially on Chirp and other social media sites, but there was something that had been nagging at her for a few days now. She flipped through myriad tabs, eventually finding one for LDG.com.


    Puri''s face, from the collarbones-up, stared smiling at her out of thumbnail after thumbnail. The descriptions were vague, but the tags weren''t - the tools used, the actions performed, the amount of participants (seemingly always one; this struck EJ as odd), all of it. Some more niche options were provided as well, from role-playing to fun new decor to size and quantity of the silent silicone assistants. EJ settled on one tagged ''Praise''.


    The game was afoot, and Esper James settled back to watch and listen, phone in one hand, heart in the other - Puri was good at this for sure. As seconds turned to minutes, EJ couldn''t help but feel like she was there with her; every word of encouragement, every gasp of surprise and delight, every smile of approval hitting her right in the core. God, Puri was cute. She was friendly, accommodating, lovely... Everything Esper James needed. It felt safe to be around her, even if this was just a recorded fascimile of the pink-haired object of her adoration.


    The video finished a minute or so after EJ did, Purity''s voice echoing through the small speaker to tell her what a good job she had done and how proud she was. Bittersweet, a bit, to hear the same things she had seen in-the-flesh now given to countless faceless personas across the internet. However, there was undeniably some... enjoyment, some solace, in hearing it once more. It brought her back to their movie night, how comfy it had been to sit and be held by her. How stable Puri made her feel.


    The phone was clicked off and plugged in to charge, and Esper James settled down for bed. Hopefully there were no dreams tonight - or, if there were, they were good.


    -


    No dreams came, and morning arrived swiftly. Up hopped the living dead, flesh cool and soft, body nude. She showered with great relish, washing away last evening''s filth that she had been too lazy to properly clean; the tears in her eyes and weight in her chest had prevented her. Hot water drizzled pale skin in a self-contained rainstorm, extra special attention given towards her cosmetics this morning: facial exfoliant and moisturizer, body wash and cream, shampoo and conditioner, and even pumice taken to her heels (which was unnecessary, but fuck it).


    The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    Outside the shower''s warm embrace, mouthwash and toothpaste helped as the icing on the cake for our intrepid, inept socialite. Perfume scented like oud musk and jasmine was rolled across her collarbones, one swipe each, helping to tinge her with exotic flair; a light dashing of blush and a slightly darker slashing of eyeliner and shadow provided some further refined beauty that looked entirely out-of-place on her, but she didn''t care. It was the effort that mattered, in her mind, and she wanted Judas to know she had put in the effort.


    Now for her clothing. A snazzy black dress-shirt was paired with a light pink pocket square and pink tie, the latter striped with thin black lines down the diagonal. She hadn''t worn it in months, and it smelled just as floral and clean as when she had had it dry-cleaned. Next came a pair of smart white dress-pants, loose in a retro way, with a matching blazer. The blazer''s interior was soft silk and similarly pink, like a skinned Easter Bunny. It was a grim thought, but one that always made EJ smile.


    She looked at herself in the mirror, brushing her hair and spinning, smiling at her own appearance. It was quite the boost to one''s self-esteem when they saw themselves looking good, and EJ was more than happy to see a chance to dress up properly for once - she was bloody ecstatic about it. Some dark black heels, more sensual and elegant than her normal office footwear, topped the look off. Someone might mistake her for a person of import now. The idea made her smile even wider.


    One thing nagged at her, though: her meds. She couldn''t take her FixAte since she frankly didn''t have any, but Judas''s specific request for her to abstain today made her wary. The wariness and wondering brought her back to thinking about what their date was to be: an eating contest, maybe? Perhaps Judas wanted to flaunt her wealth by telling EJ to order whatever she wanted, and then actually backing up the claim/request by paying for anything the secretary could gulp down? An exciting prospect that made the blonde''s hungry belly rumble, but probably not what this would end up being. Probably.


    "Alright... Off I go, I guess. See you later, home. Be good while I''m gone." She said it to no one in particular, just feeling the need to say something, anything, her nerves starting to rise up once more. EJ had reassured herself time and time again that the date would go well, that this would be a fun and exciting new chapter in both her life and her relationship with the powerful and terrifying woman who held her contract, but she couldn''t shake a gentle foreboding. To be fair, that''s how it had felt to hang out with Puri until Puri actually arrived, so... maybe things would be alright!


    Down the stairs she went, staring out at Vitus''s smog-choked sky and traffic-jammed highways. Poor fuckers, needing to work today! Her Tuesday was going to be spent in an exciting, enjoyable way, not slaving away at a computer desk and phone booth! That alone reinvigorated her a bit, and she rushed faster, bursting out of the front doors of the Kehler complex to see -


    A black limousine, the windows tinted pitch-black, the engine running and doors all closed. A stone-faced attendant stood by the furthest-back opening with a grim expression, opening it with a flourish and gesturing EJ inside with white-gloved hands. This was it. EJ swallowed hard, nodding to the attendant (who didn''t even react) and stepping into the opening...


    As she slipped inside, another pair of hands grabbed her almost immediately. It was purposefully dim inside, almost no windows to speak of and those windows tinted to the point of being near-blackout, and no lights properly shone. Judas had snatched EJ as soon as she had gotten close enough, and the smile on her face said it all and more: she was amped to have Esper James with her, away from work and pretense, able to enjoy the fruits of their shared labor. EJ yelped and tried to say something, but the wind was pressed from her as Judas drew her in for a crushing embrace.


    "Ooooooohhhhh, EJ! You look so fucking cute, oh my God! Oh, this is gonna be perfect. Are you feeling ok? No meds? Nice and hungry? Oh, who am I kidding, I can smell the bloodthirst on your breath. Here, here, it''s going to be a little bit of a drive - have a drink while we ride, will you?"


    Judas let EJ free and scooched along the interior couch to a wide minifridge, her blonde-haired prey sitting down in a slight daze. Judas was never usually so energetic at work, but the pretense was far different there; here, she seemed almost playful. Almost friendly. It made Esper James'' lips curl up into a grin, sharp needle-teeth exposed like a leech''s maw.


    There was a resounding pop as a champagne bottle was burst open, two long flutes poured, one for either occupant. EJ recognized the name from her time in college - it was pricy for sure. Judas was already flexing her wealth and they''d only been here a few minutes. She took the offered flute and winked sheepishly, going to clink rims with her hostess. Judas was happy to oblige.


    "Judas, this is... Wow. This is lovely. I''ve never been inside a limousine before, y''know...? I can barely believe I''m here. Thank you so much for inviting me..."


    "Oh, psh, don''t you dare talk like that tonight, ok? The pleasure is... all mine, Esper James. I assure you. Now, drink up - this whole fridge is filled to the brim, and it''s only the two of us having any. Once we''ve had enough my chauffeur will take us to one of my private businesses across town... It''s a lovely little bistro, but I think you''ll find the selection is perfect. After that, I''ve got a section of the White Star rented out so we can watch films, and then... Well, I''ll save the best for last. For now? Enjoy yourself~"


    The two ladies began to drink the champagne, EJ initially hesitant, Judas with wild abandon. The vampiric hostess glugged down bubbly like she was going through a drought, and soon EJ followed suit, slamming back glass after glass in the back of the limo. Drinks were the perfect way to get one''s lips moving for all sorts of reasons, and this time it meant the pair shared conversation. Judas was the first to engage.


    "...so, EJ, what kind of movies do you like?"


    Benign enough. EJ thought for a few moments before nodding in response, taking another sip and swishing it between her razorlike fangs before responding. "I''m a horror fan, but honestly, I-I''m kind of a big baby, so I have trouble watching them by myself. Kinda lame, I know. You?"


    Judas snickered, having a gulp of booze. "Yeah, I get you. I''m a crime movie kind of woman myself - stuff with old-school mobsters always gets my blood pumping. So refined, so suave, so... Ruthless. I''ve always wanted to make someone kiss my ring to prove their allegiance or something. Horror is pretty good, too, though..."


    EJ couldn''t help but laugh, and Judas frowned playfully, giving her a push on the shoulder. "What? What''s so funny?! Can''t a powerful, beautiful businesswoman have fantasies of making others bend to their whims? I could always bring in a fancy ring with a big rock on it and make you kiss it, you little twerp!" Judas snickered as she drank more, voice muffled by the liquid in her glass.


    EJ shook her head, taking a second before answering, smiling as she spoke. "No, no, it''s just very... you, Judas. That''s so you. In a good way, I promise, it really fits. I think it''s-" Cute. She wanted to say cute. The word wouldn''t come out no matter how hard she tried, lingering anxiety keeping her from going straight to flirting with her boss.


    "- appropriate. What''s your favorite movie, then? Got a mobster movie that tops them all?"


    Judas nodded, draining her glass before responding. "Yes. You''re... You''re gonna laugh. I watch ''Don Dracula: Godfather of Ghouls'' at least twice a year, every year. He''s so... Fuck, man, he''s so cool, even if it''s pretty campy. The scene where he and his Bat Boys firebomb Maurino ''Frankenstein'' Vitelli''s warehouse, then mow down all the rival gangsters with silver bullets? It''s so good, every god-damn time."


    EJ did laugh, for sure; calling the Don Dracula series ''pretty campy'' was an understatement, but the special effects were banging and the one-liners were iconic. She leaned forwards, putting on her best Transylvanian tough-guy accent, staring Judas down with a play-stoic expression.


    "Eyyyy, looks like you bit off-a more than you could chew, zom-bitches."


    Classic Don Dracula, always fighting other undead mobsters. Judas threw an arm around EJ and smiled from ear to ear, nodding fervently at the semi-recognizable quote. She responded in kind, making a similar faux-Transylvanian accent.


    "Blah, blah! For a vampire, the only thing you''re sucking is dick!"


    And like that, the two of them were falling about themselves. Apprehension in EJ''s heart had melted away like a glacier in the sun, the booze and smalltalk and laughter helping warm up her half-dead heart to Judas''s advances without a second thought. Maybe this wouldn''t be as terrifying as she thought it might be. In fact, things seemed like they were going to be pretty... well, fun.


    She''d just have to see.

 Act One (Ch. 12) - Best Served Warm; or, I Like My Stake Rare

    The limousine raced down the highway, Vitus''s grimy streets and towering skyscrapers whipping by, chaff by comparison to what Judas was surely used to. Its black frame, an ebon chariot for a vampire and her prey, coursed through intersections and down back-streets with mechanized precision, surely the finest model available. An inspection would reveal it to be French in make; they were the finest automobile craftsmen in the ERFS, a position they were forced into during the Chapter Wars. Truly a luxurious import, and in and of itself a display of wealth and influence.


    However, you did not come here for constant reminder of Judas''s money, I hope.


    Inside, the two continue to sip champagne like fish desperate for water, or winos desperate for relief. The semi-golden liquid pours down their half-dead throats in a waterfall rush in between playful banter and pop culture references: the latest films, the most popular music, the cutting edge of virtual reality. Smalltalk for the sake of it, they pitter-patter back and forth with words that don''t bear real weight; EJ is already feeling the weight of her consumption begin to drag her into the fine leather seats, and her conversational partner is so commanding in the direction of their chat that she''s happy to just be dragged along like a block of lead.


    Judas, by contrast, is more than lucid - her eyes are acutely focused within the dim light of the limousine''s interior, lips hungry, teeth bared in a lupine smile. She''s playing to everything Esper James says - she knows all the bands EJ refers to, she laughs at every joke the little blonde lamb tells, and she''s crept ever closer until her right arm is nestled comfortably around her target''s shoulders, providing a headrest. EJ''s happily nestled herself into the embrace at this point, her tender heart more than open to the affection provided.


    The secretary sips at her booze in a break between conversation, shutting her eyes to listen to the dark, moody jazz that spills through the speakers in the vehicle. It''s like they''re in a supper club with just the two of them - the audio quality is such that she can almost imagine herself there, drinking fancy wine with her date, allowing herself to be wooed so completely. So wholly. And yes, she thinks to herself, she is ''allowing'' herself to be wooed.


    There may be a distinct... difference of power between them, for sure, and your boss asking you on a date is a bit manipulative, but she does like Judas. She''s attractive without a doubt, she''s charismatic, she''s... Well, sweet sometimes, right? That thought made EJ frown into her glass, tuning out whatever small talk drivel Judas was rattling into her ear. Judas could be sweet, couldn''t she?


    The answer was a tentative yes. EJ had worked for Judas for years - a decade, actually. Time slipped like grains through one''s hand and days blended together when one''s lifespan was functionally indefinite... It felt so brief, and so little had changed. The world had changed around the pair of them, but business was always the same. New stores, new bands, new cars, new movies... but always Judas and EJ, in office 647, doing their same work day in and day out. Work was a source of stress, but it was a constant, a rock EJ could depend on. She always knew Judas would be there, and she had grown so accustomed to the actual process of working that it was second nature to her.


    Judas had been... rocky, those first years. Vampires were demanding. Being so close to perfection, to the grace of some unseen God in a long-forgotten heaven, made them moody and particular. They required the same sort of perfection they themselves held from all their subordinates and contacts, and when these standards were not met, punishment and reprimand were common. Judas''s tongue could be a harsh lash or a tender caress, as Esper James had come to know quite intimately; she was a beautiful flower, a gorgeous bloom of nightshade, both deadly and divine.


    EJ had cried a lot throughout their shared employment. She cried a lot nowadays, too, but not quite as much. For a girl who was supposed to be a half-dead flesh eating mutant, a freak of nature who had been denied her destiny as a sanguine superior like Judas, she was pretty soft inside. A little ball of mochi and pudding and teeth, some may say. Judas had been unsparing with her application of the figurative lash, and this had only bruised her, not hardened her - internal scars did not heal the same as those upon the flesh and bone.


    But as time had gone on, Judas''s favor had slowly come down from that high pedestal it sat upon to grace EJ directly. She figured it was her dedication - even if she was late sometimes, or screwed up sometimes, or forgot things sometimes, EJ was by far Judas''s longest-serving subordinate. As she had been told in the past, Judas''s previous secretaries usually lasted a year at most before some horrible fate befell them - self-inflicted termination, disappearance into Vitus''s shadows, re-location to some remote shithole, or straight-up firing. Working for the higher-ups at Tsang was always a gamble, and in that game you either won big or lost so badly your life could never recover.


    EJ liked to think that she was going to win. But then again, didn''t they all like to think such things?


    Judas had been sweeter and sweeter to her as time went on, and especially recently it had been notable. The kisses were... They made EJ shudder to think about, reminiscing in the recollection of how it felt. Her lips were soft, but thin and more direct - she couldn''t help but compare them to Puri''s, and find each had their own beneficial nature. No, more than just the kiss itself, it was the way Judas held her. To the vampire, she was a small, defenseless creature that needed protection, guidance... Use. She was a trophy, but to be fair, EJ doubted Judas could ever see another person as much more than that. It was a compliment, in a way, that Judas even saw her as some sort of valuable decoration.


    Judas snapped her fingers in front of EJ''s face, between her nose and the flute of bubbly, cracking off a few snip-snaps before clearing her throat. This, in turn, snapped EJ out of her little moment of self-reflection and concentration. She yelped, turning her head with wide doe eyes to look up at her boss, nearly spilling some champagne onto herself and her fancy outfit - that would have been an instantaneous trigger for tears, so it was thankful she avoided it.


    "Hey. You ok? You''ve been staring silently into your drink for a while. I want to make sure you''re having fun on this little outing, EJ." Judas''s expression was soft and forgiving, a warm pillow to look at - it made EJ feel comforted and safe, emotions she never thought she could attribute to one with a name synonymous with betrayal. She nestled up closer to Judas, head now resting near the other woman''s underarm, the limb ''round her shoulders like a reassuring blanket. Judas was happy to give her a squeeze.


    "Yeah... Yeah, I''m ok. Doing g-great, actually... Thank you for all the booze, haha! I just... Sometimes when I drink I can get a little quiet and need some time to sit and think. I promise, I-I''m not bored, or unhappy, or anything like that... Sometimes it all just gets to be a little much for me. I just need a little breather." EJ swallowed hard, looking back up to Judas and being rewarded with the hints of a fang-toothed smile from her hostess. Judas nodded, leaning down to gingerly place a kiss on EJ''s forehead; it made her tingle from head to toe, shutting her eyes to bask in the feeling. This time it lingered longer than usual, much longer, a euphoric background buzz enhanced by Judas''s warmth.


    "I get it, EJ. Don''t worry, I do. You''ve always been a little... fragile. Easily startled. I kind of like that about you, actually - you''re emotional, even after second life. Most people, when they come out of the morgue, they''re kind of... nihilistic. Dead to the world. Zombies don''t often make great conversationalists, but you... You''re fun to be around. You''re just like a living girl, except with all the fun of a dead one. I''ve always adored that about you."


    Judas smiles earnestly this time, her strange sort of compliment still entwining EJ''s heart with its words. A direct sentence from Judas expressing affection was like a unicorn - rare, mesmerizing, and deadly. She crossed her legs absentmindedly, wanting to make herself small... to make herself easier to wrap up and hold. To make herself available for whatever Judas''s plans were.


    After some time, conversation picked up normally again, albeit this time EJ was happily nested into the half-embrace of her boss and benefactor. There was no more need to think about Judas''s predatory history, or the way she could be abusive; this was redeeming her in EJ''s naive eyes and doing so more fervently every second. She didn''t even notice how much champagne they had gone through until her eyes rested upon the fourth empty bottle on the floor, rolling around haphazardly even as Judas opened a fifth. Couldn''t hurt, right?


    -


    By the time they arrived at their destination, the limousine crawling to a halt with buttery smooth precision, EJ was plastered. Drinking on another person''s dollar was reason enough to get as hammered as you could, and Esper James found she was quite fond of the light, sweet, fruity taste the champagne had. It was candy-like and enticing, doubtlessly picked for its sweetness and drinkability by Judas herself. Even drunk, the ghoulette knew that Judas would have had a hand in every aspect of today''s festivities.


    Stepping out from the limo, helped by Judas''s stabilizing hands, she was immediately covered by the shade of an offered umbrella. It was still a bit sunny out, and the chauffeur attendant was present by the door (which he had opened) to similarly ensure neither lady got too much of those blinding, hateful rays upon their delicate dead flesh. EJ stumbled a little bit as she stood, but just as she was about to truly totter over, Judas''s arms wrapped around her from behind and pulled her back into a close embrace. Her perfume, that same dark berry and cinnamon, floods into EJ''s head like a tidal wave and makes her vision spin. Maybe their day trip could just be this - just be Judas holding onto her, keeping her safe and secure...


    "Hey, hey... Come on, EJ, door''s right there. Here, hold my hand and I''ll lead you in. I think you''ll like this place a lot - it''s one of my favorite places to dine, and I come here really often. Everyone knows me, and I promise, they''ll love you. You''re exactly the type of girl they want to come visit." Judas''s words were whispered so tenderly into EJ''s ear that the blonde could barely register them, instead focusing on the comforting warmth of Judas''s breath - but she nodded, acknowleding what was said, staggering to a full stand and taking Judas''s offered hand.


    Before them lay a lavish looking modern building, the outside of it all black glass and steel with a red carpet extending out the front. A milky-eyed doorman nodded to the pair as he sniffed the wind, looking past the pair even as they approached. Above the door, in golden script of flowing cursive with a distinctive flair, the establishment was named: Chateau Nocturne. Even from outside there came a scent which made EJ''s empty belly roar, and while she was too drunk to notice or care, Judas laughed aloud. The doorman tried not to acknowledge it, professional demeanor too stoic.


    The weather was starting to cloud up, thankfully, and the sun''s gaze dimmed as it hit 3:00. It was a lovely time for a late lunch for humans, or a mid-lunch for others. The doorman pulled a tinted glass pane wide for the pair, offering them up a rectangular void from which only the sounds of slow, melancholic jazz piano and the scent of cooking meat escaped. EJ blinked at it, trying her best to focus - she could see a little bit, ghoulish eyes taking note of a ''Please wait to be seated'' sign upon the greeter''s podium, but not much else within the gloom. A single pinprick of light seemed to make itself known far in the distance, away from prying or pleading eyes.


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    "Come on, come on... They''ll lead us to our table. Nothing to be scared of, sweetie, I promise... I eat here all the time. You''ll have fun, I just know it - hahaha...~" Judas''s reassurances are anything but comforting, but the suddenly timid girl - strength sapped by alcohol and courage draining - reluctantly allows herself to be coralled by her date. Into the black door they go, and once the doorman shuts their only exit, they are damned to abyssal blackness.


    Within, the sights are singular: that ebon canvas of lightlessness, painted across every surface one could possibly imagine. The soft sounds of measured consumption come in waves and fits through the darkness, wine sipped and plateware clacked, silvers clanked and food torn apart by teeth and steel. An eatery, it seemed, but more than just some upscale butchery - this place was swanky, and the gimmick was as obvious as the daylight that it denied. Dining in the dark. How novel.


    EJ could smell the dishes being prepared in the kitchen; she could taste the blood in the air, raw and cooked, most patrons dead but a surprising few living motes finding their place at the tables. Somewhere in the distance a live band played, slap-bass and lone trumpet accompanied by a drum set and piano and a synthesizer to provide further ambiance. Deeper, in the kitchen, EJ can barely make out snippets of chatter: the head chef directing his underlings, his fellow artisans of spices and meat.


    A new scent directs the scene: perfume and cologne in tandem, the former light and citrus with a hint of floral bouquet, the latter heady and wooden and jasmine. They''re both attached to the same person somewhere in this shadowy landscape, and as their voice makes itself known EJ clings to Judas for support. The taller woman gladly provides.


    "Good evening, most valued patrons. Do you have a reservation?" The voice is wispy and sweet, but carries as though backed with further bass than is properly revealed. Judas makes some sort of motion in the black, her own tones responding as EJ simply stands and listens.


    "Yes. We''re here for a reservation at three-fifteen... We''re a little early, but I assume that will be no trouble. The reservation is for the Alighieri party." Judas gave Esper James''s hand a little squeeze as she spoke, her excitement palpable. The confidence and eagerness to eat that Judas was feeling had truly begun to blend into EJ''s own thoughts and emotions, seeping over through skin-to-skin osmosis. She couldn''t deny that she, too, was starting to feel a mounting anticipation in her breast.


    The ruffle of menus. The flutter of a skirt, or perhaps a dress. Judas began to move, and as she did, she leaned down to whisper to EJ. "Stick close to me. Don''t let go of my hand. I''ve seen it in here when the lights - there are lights, by the way, in case of emergency - when they''re on. It''s a little cramped in a few of these hallways." That was all she needed to say; EJ was glued to her even more than before, the brisk pace of their procession meaning she stumbled at least once, and Judas was there to catch her.


    Finally they slowed after what felt like hours, the tension of walking blind with nothing but touch and smell to guide you drawing seconds into eons. Judas led EJ''s hand to a booth''s cushy back, slipping away once the girl was settled in; Esper James could hear her date moving to sit across from her, and lo and behold she reached one high-heeled foot across to tap EJ''s thigh playfully. The blonde giggled softly, darkness allowing her to hide her delighted smile. It felt good to receive such affection.


    Menus were offered by their waitress(?), the text now the only thing they could see - however, Judas cleared her throat and whispered something to the waitstaff, who promptly took the menus back before EJ could even finish reading about the entry she had been investigating. They hastily made their retreat while EJ looked to where she approximated Judas to be, brow raised in the shade, hoping that her date could feel the questioning emotion from across the table.


    It seemed like she may have, because Judas answered without prompting. "I told her to get us my usual. You''ve trusted me this far, EJ - maybe I could have your trust for just a bit longer? I promise, I promise on all promises, that you''ll enjoy this... And if I''m wrong, we can eat anywhere you''d like on our next trip, ok? I''ll pay for it all. You have my word."


    "...ok." The secretary wasn''t sure what to say, all this mystery and mystique both grabbing her attention and, frankly, worrying her. Judas was her boss, surely she was trustworthy... but was such secrecy necessary? And what the hell were they gonna eat? Vampires weren''t known for their appetites, even if they forewent their medicine, but ghouls could pack away a whole person and strip the bones clean without a second thought. It was true - there''d been more than one news special on it, advertising the dangers of living a life without FixAte. After all, you didn''t want to eat your friends, did you?


    Judas broke the silence again, playing footsie with EJ as she did. Her stockings were soft on EJ''s skin where they touched, pants sometimes being pulled up to allow flesh-to-flesh contact. "So... Welcome to Chateau Nocturne, or just The Nocturne to most. It''s a blind dining restaurant, mostly made for, well, people like us. People who eat meat and aren''t often scrupulous about how we do it, haha! The idea is that since we second-living have such powerful and refined senses, we not only can feel them at their full potential in the dark, but also the experience of eating will be heightened further for us."


    "That''s why you didn''t want me to... Y''know. With my..." EJ was hesitant to speak aloud the full extent of her thoughts, but they were easy enough to guess: her medicine. Her stomach had been a dull knot of pain and motion all morning because of it, and she was thankful that the only person she''d really been near was Judas because she wasn''t sure how well she could control herself if left alone with someone that wasn''t as imposing. The bubbly had helped, yes, but that was like saying alcohol cured a headache - it only removed the symptoms, not the cause.


    "Mhmm. EJ, I''m a vampire. We both know that. Vampires have it, well, pretty damn good in this city. We''re powerful, respected, physically peaking, mentally sharp... There''s a lot we get to enjoy. But you... You''re special, too, in your own way. Ghouls are so much more durable, so much stronger if allowed to flourish. I''ve always admired the other undead around me, the different ways that Tsang can craft us up from the pitiful shell of humanity, and you''re my favorite example. You''re elegant and beautiful in your own special way, you know? Whenever I see your smile, and I get to see those ghoulish fangs... Or the dazzling red markings in your eyes..."


    She made a pleasured, shuddering sound, and EJ laughed. Wow, Judas really was a fan, eh? I made sense, in a way: vampires had the best reason to feel some kind of attachment to their second-living status, and so they''d be most likely to see the ''good'' in all the various strains and subspecies created by Tsang''s special treatment. Even a ghoul like EJ, considered an outsider to the other forms of second-living, may be looked upon with a kind and loving eye.


    "Ahem... And so, uh, I thought taking you here might be a fun experience. For you. Letting you eat your fill, getting to focus on your hunger and the food you''re eating instead of some kind of dazzling locale or overt display of wealth or something... So many restaurants in town try and blind you with their bling that it can be hard to actually enjoy the damn food. Here''s to hoping that you can focus on it all just fine here."


    The waitress arrived once more, carrying something in one hand and two clinking things in the other: a bottle of wine with glasses to go with. It was poured and with it came a distinctly red scent, savory and sweet at the same time, a luxurious and aromatic spritz filling the air. Some kind of blood-wine, perhaps? It had all the right markers of blood and alcohol, and despite already being fairly drunk, EJ''s mouth watered like a faucet. It took all her willpower not to reach and flail blindly for the chalice of red drink, instead waiting for the waitress to push the crystal glass over to her. She took it gratefully, pulling it close to drown herself in its smell.


    Peppery, heady, sugary, spicy. Notes of brown sugar, red and black pepper, and the distinct metallic tang of blood filled her nose, underlined with swirling tendrils of red grape, cinnamon, and balsamic vinegar. There was a definite tang, fruity and savory and sugary and hot, the liquid itself mulled and warm to be a delicious spiced libation. It was just a touch thicker than normal wine, but that was exactly what EJ liked - some texture to her bloody concoctions, something to help bolster it against her tastebuds. Judas just snickered at the other girl''s excitement.


    "Careful with that, buttercup, it''s strong. Special reserve, straight from Peru; they do lovely things with blood in the South, really tasteful. It''s a shame importing costs so much, but eh, it''s worth it to me...~" Judas''s smile is audible, and EJ can imagine how it must look in the dark of the restaurant''s interior: her long white fangs, capped with gold, sparkling in the lightlessness for no one but the mind''s eye. She was lovely.


    "Oi! I''ll be fine, won''t I? I''ve had plenty of pig''s blood before, and I''m no lightweight. Here - toast with me." EJ pouted playfully for no benefit other than her own, hoping that it might come across in the the tone of her speech. Her ears caught the sound of Judas''s outfit rustling in the darkness, and the two both made an awkward clinking of their glasses. EJ giggled aloud at the difficult gesture, trying not to spill her wine.


    "Careful, careful! Hahaha! Don''t spill any, you dummy!" Judas laughed, the sound ricocheting around their private booth, surrounding EJ with her hostess''s mirth. It was surprisingly comforting, knowing Judas was having fun - knowing that things were going well. She laughed in turn, and soon the two were giggling into their glasses as they made to take their drinks.


    EJ slowly tipped the crystalline goblet back, scent and sensation flooding her nostrils, and when finally the liquid touched her lips it was like a warm embrace from a long-lost lover. She could barely stifle her gasp of surprise as it dribbled into her mouth and caught her palate in rapture - it was everything she had hoped for and more, the taste of it imprinting itself into her tongue and mind.


    Smoky, peppery, and savory, with a distinct tang and sweetness that overlaid it like a rich barbecue sauce over flame-roasted fruits. The aftertaste was of figs and brown sugar with a lingering heat that played with the back of the throat, reminiscent of the flames of Hell reaching up their black iron chimney towards Heaven''s gate. She couldn''t stop herself from gulping down the first mouthful immediately, smacking her lips as chocolate and cinnamon made themselves known to the sides of her senses, creamily blending it all together into a beverage which would shatter any winter woes without worry.


    She finished the first glass without hesitation, then sitting and staring into the darkness.


    The blood-rush came next, a stimulant burst which put all else to shame. She had experienced it thousands of times before. But this felt different - it was more powerful by leaps and bounds, causing her hands to shake gently and her stomach to rumble with soft content. She licked her teeth once, twice, thrice, getting every drop she could down her gullet, eyes wide and pupils monolithic in the darkness of the chateau.


    Setting the glass down, she was quiet for a time afterwards. Judas snickered again, that cruel witch-cackle of self-delight, so pleased with her own machinations that she had to share it with the world. EJ listened silently, breathing now with an open mouth, simply feeling the sensations wrought by the passing of guzzled blood: the way her muscles flexed and relaxed, the twitching of her hands, the rush of warmth in her lungs.


    Indeed, in her loins and breast both she felt the stir of warmth and motion, excitement twofold at the bloody beverage''s wake. It made her yearn for more yet even as her tongue and lips smacked away the remnants of her first warm glass, already desperate for more.


    "That was... delicious. R-Really, really good. I''m used to, uh, pig''s blood in just a mixed drink or something... Lot of ax-murders, haha, or Bloody Maries... but, erm, this is a lot stronger than those. The blood part, anyways. It''s... It''s not pig''s blood, I can tell that. I''m sort of scared of what it might be. But... I trust you. You''d tell me if it was something bad, right...?"


    Her partner leaned up and over the table, now speaking in a stage whisper of sorts, though EJ wasn''t even sure who may hear. Judas''s voice was heavy and sinister and laden with amusement when she spoke again, and EJ felt a chill run down her spine.


    "Tell me what you think it was, EJ. I want to hear you say it."


    EJ felt her gut tie up in knots now, the euphoria still sparkling in her veins but a ball of dread forming in her core. She leaned up shakily to match Judas, her own cheek lightly pressed to the other woman''s, mouth to her ear. She took a deep breath before she could speak, hands still trembling, heart threatening to leap up and into her throat.


    "...human."

 Act One (Ch. 13) - Red Red Wine; or, Ring-Finger // ACT ONE - END //

    The word lingers in the air like a dazzling neon sign, one you can watch as every glimmering bulb bordering it fizzles and dies before the whole thing rusts and drops to the floor. It''s a weight that hangs in the darkened room, and one that makes EJ''s skin crawl - and Judas''s heart race. To her, something was delightful about the corruption of innocence - even if EJ was hardly a saint in the first place.


    "Drink some more. You like it, don''t you? The way it tastes... The sweetness, the savory, heady, bubbly-ness of it all..." She chuckles, hand going up to EJ''s cheek, the one opposite her own; it caresses her, touch soft but nails sharp in the darkness, the claws of a beast. A killer. A cannibal. Something wet and warm touches EJ''s cheek in the pitch-black dining room, making her shudder as it strings out and plays at the lobe of her left ear. Judas''s tongue, presumably.


    "Fuck, you wouldn''t have finished the glass - you wouldn''t have swallowed it unless you liked it, would you? You naughty little... girl. Naughty little girl. Drinking down someone else''s blood, hahaha...~"


    Judas is delighted. She reveled in the blood-scent on EJ''s breath, the sudden shakiness to the other woman''s voice, the trepidation - nay, terror at the deception. And yet there was something more; Esper James was not the first woman to have wandered into the wicked vampire''s clutches, and she was not the first to be slipped human blood by that selfsame antagonist. The devil worked in mysterious ways, it was said, but Judas was all too precise and methodical. It had all been planned, to a degree.


    She patted herself on the back, mentally. EJ was emotionally sensitive and as adventurous as a wet sock... But she had always imagined herself as more. As a goth, a punk, a real counter-culture girl. It was why she dyed her hair black on the tips, why she listened to industrial and metal in her headphones at work, why she spent her weekend evenings at the Jezebelle. She aspired to be more. Judas was more. She''d offer everything to the unassuming blonde, and then...


    Bam.


    Judas would have everything she wanted. While it was true that ghouls were sub-optimal, that they were assumed to be incapable of reaching vampiric heights of perfection... There were always parts moving behind the scenes. In the East, technology constantly required updating... maintenance... repairs... But in the West, wetware was malleable. Even those who designed it were constantly surprised by their own innovations, again and again, and Esper James was the perfect candidate to be innovated on.


    Young. Unassuming. Cute. Ambitious, but not too much. Pliable. Malleable, even. She was the ideal choice for the vampire''s designs. And soon, she''d be subjected to them. Each and every last one.


    -


    Esper James shivered under the slick tendril''s probing motions, breath caught in her throat. It was warm, unlike her own tepid flesh... The second-living only truly warmed up when ingesting remnants of true life, and right now Judas''s body was like a space heater. EJ could feel it from the touch of their cheeks alone; Judas''s breath rushing hot and heady against her ear even as it was tongued, the contact causing her to tense up.


    She could feel her muscles spasming still from the blood, not nearly as harsh as the reaction from animal blood; her nerves tingled with a lingering euphoric haze, and the tongue-on-cheek action had her trembling from more than just anxiety. It felt good. More than good, in fact - Judas''s touch was like cold water on a hot day, a cool pillow in a hot bedroom, a bowl of icecream in a summer heat-wave. It made her yearn for more even as she wanted to be repulsed by it all, by the way Judas didn''t seem to care.


    Oh, God, and her words... The blonde had to restrain herself from admission, biting her lower lip in a desperate effort not to yell out ''Yes!'' into the abyssal void of their meal chamber. She knew Judas wanted to say something else, something worse - wanted to tease her in public, just like she did at work. Words unsaid held a lecherous bent from her boss, but the secretary felt her body reacting to the husky, sensual tone despite herself.


    Her eyes were shut, but if they were open, they would be doeish and aimed straight at the vampire. Her stomach was a roiling mess, the reality of consuming human blood and the effects of said libation fighting tooth and claw with her growing affection for the way Judas controlled her. She had never had much control in life; being directed had slowly become second-nature to her over the years, and now entwining it with the romantic assurance she craved was almost addictive.


    She knew Judas knew it. She knew Judas was manipulating her; she was submissive, sure, but she wasn''t stupid. That made it better, though - knowing Judas had a tune she wanted EJ to dance to, knowing that there was a right way to do things. Judas was particular to a T; if Esper James was good, she would be praised. If she was disobedient, she would get punished. It reminded her of work, the connection more than obvious.


    She leaned into Judas''s touch, nearly crawling up onto the table in her own subconscious desire. There was a very real chance she would try and clamber into Judas''s lap while her addled mind wandered, blood and guilt and alcohol making her thoughts into sludge. She was halted by a hand on her face - the one from her cheek moving over to put its palm against her mouth and nose, pushing her back away while Judas laughed. Judas always seemed to be laughing.


    "Not quite yet, little girl... Deep breaths. We aren''t even through dinner yet. The appetizer hasn''t even arrived. Now, tell me: how are you feeling? You don''t need to comment on the blood or anything... I know it can be scary the first time. It can leave you feeling vulnerable and uncertain. Don''t focus on those things right now - focus on me. Focus on the sensation. How is it?"


    EJ whimpered as she was pushed away, but it was good that she had been turned down; that wine wasn''t cheap, she assumed, and accidentally spilling it all over herself and her hostess would turn an already bewildering date into a trainwreck. So instead she sat back down and put her hands in her lap. She tried not to notice Judas re-filling her glass as she settled down once more.


    "...e-erm... I... I feel good, I suppose. But why would you-!"


    EJ wished she had the strength to finish that sentence, to question her partner as to why she would deceive her like that. Esper James had no idea where the blood even came from, in truth, but some bias against Judas and her infamous cruelty made the ghoulette assume that it couldn''t have been ethically sourced. She couldn''t bring herself to even pose either question, though, and so she trailed off impotently into the darkness. A clearing of the throat, and she started anew.


    "I feel... good. Energetic. Tingly. My, uh, my muscles are doing the twitchy-thing they do when I drink blood... But it''s not as bad. It feels kind of fun, like when you stretch and get that, uh, release in your body, you know?"


    She heard the soft wet sound of lips parting, spreading across teeth and gums, as Judas smiled wide. EJ balled her hands into fists as best she could, the very action of flexing the muscle and sinew covering her arm in a ticklish, satisfying sensation. The twitching of her muscles added further difficulty in the action, but her resolve was enough to create at least a limp fist.


    It has been obvious, in retrospect. Judas''s little plan with the blood, that is. EJ cursed herself for her inability to say no, for her inability to revolt against Judas''s commands. Even being aware of the pheromones and the mesmerizing aura... Even being ready to try and avoid these sadistic machinations... She had fallen for it. She had allowed herself to fall hook line and sinker into the other woman''s clutches, and now she was drunk and drugged up and... Well...


    She did feel good. She felt great, in fact. Her heart was racing out of her chest, she was mellowed and floaty from booze and blood, every action felt like she was massaging herself, and the wine... It tasted amazing. Better than she had dreamt. It was succulent and refreshing in a way nothing else she had ever consumed could compare to. Judas had tricked her, true... but she was also shelling out money left and right to impress her. To comfort her. To woo her. Judas was doing everything in her power to draw her in and keep her close, even going so far as to purchase genuine human blood and feed it to the hungry, deprived ghoulette.


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    Was it so bad?


    Clicking heels came sounding down the hallway to their dining area; their waitress had returned, rustling menus inlaid with a gently glowing script held in hand. EJ suddenly felt flushed and hot, face red as a tomato in the darkened room; despite the fact that the service worker obviously couldn''t see her, she still felt guilty. Hideously guilty. She was Eve in the garden of Eden, the mythical, damning apple already sitting pretty down her gullet. She sat stock still, whispering a soft ''thanks'' as the menus started to be passed. Judas''s voice cut through the inky canvas, her tone edged like a knife.


    "No menus, please. Just the usual; one for me, one for her, with a double-order of the side for my date. She''s... very hungry, hahaha...!"


    Her voice is hushed in the silence, but it pierces like an arrow. The waitress giggles softly, muttering some words of affirmation before turning on a heel and heading back the way she came. Soon they are left with nothing but one another and the sultry, moody jazz that this place seems to be drowning in. Judas speaks first, appeasing EJ''s curiosity far before she can even voice it aloud.


    "Kobe beef, rare, with a light sprinkle of Himalayan salt and a delicious bone-marrow butter. It''s to die for, all made in-house; the side is Chinese-style glazed pork belly cutlets, reduced down to the point they crispy and dripping with fat underneath all that sweet, smoky glaze. It hardens as it sits so it''s almost like meat candy, small enough you can pop them in your mouth and chew them up... Mmh. You''ll love it, sweetheart; I promise~"


    In her current addled state, EJ was damn inclined to believe her. Her delight at how succulent and satisfying the dish sounded was twinned with joy and relief that Judas hadn''t said it was some more humanoid culling scraps. That would have been a straw too many... or so she would like to believe, at least. In truth, truth that she tried so hard to deny, she was unsure if she would be able to deny temptation. The memories of a dream not-forgotten make her stomach rumble again, the little bit of blood she''s already had only making her hungry for more.


    She pours another glass, whimpering as her wrist jerks involuntarily and some spills onto the tablecloth. Judas just laughs affectionately, her slender hand reaching out to steady her date''s grip and help her pour a nice, full glass, judging purely by sound. The bottle was set down and the elixir was brought slowly to EJ''s lips, trickling into her fang toothed maw once more.


    -


    One bottle became two and a half by time the food arrived, and Esper James felt glued to her seat. It was hitting her hard, glutting on blood so fervently, already nearly blackout drunk. Her head swam on crimson waves of wine and spice, and only after Judas thanked the waitress did she realize that there was a plate of something delicious sitting right beneath her half-opened mouth. Her belly gurgled eagerly.


    A shaky hand was lifted up to her silverware, or where she assumed some may be; however, all she could find was a napkin... and a small bowl of fragranced water. Her voice arose in a timid, wavering way, alcohol slurring her words and thoughts into stream of consciousness slush.


    "Ehhhh, Judash- Judas, uh... H-Hey, did you get any... Silverware? Like a knife or something? I''m... I didn''t get any. I''ve got some, like, hand shanitizher or som''thing? Just a li''l bowl of it, too, ''iunno why. I mean, maybe it''s so you do t need to get up for the bathroom? But then there''s no where to take a pi-"


    "Oh, sweetie, no no no - you don''t understand. We didn''t get silverware. You and I don''t need it, do we? We''re just a couple of hot young carnivores, looking for love in all the wrong places... And we''re not scared to get our hands dirty, are we? You eat it however you feel comfortable, I can''t see it - but sometimes, in the dark, you''ve got to get messy, babe. You''re a girl who can get messy, aren''t you?"


    Judas''s voice came in sultry waves across the ocean of ink between them, sensual and inviting. It was laden with connotations - ones that even a drunken Esper James could understand. She felt her face get hot and her pants begin to tighten, alcohol no impairment to her in an intimate sense. She cleared her throat and bit her lower lip, absentmindedly adjusting her chest in the dark - making sure everything was as perky and accessible as it could be.


    "I... I can be a dirty girl, Judas. I can be, uh... Messy, haha..." She swallowed hard, the lewd phrasing already catching in her throat. Her thoughts went back to Purity, to the way their bodies mingled... the ebb and flow, the push and pull... It was sweet, and sensitive, and intimate. It made her feel whole and pampered and like her body was truly appreciated - a validation that words couldn''t compare to.


    She doubted Judas would be so sweet to her.


    No, she already had it in her head what it would be like: down on her knees, lashes on her back, a bowl with her name on it filled to the brim with champagne. She''d be made to beg, without a doubt. A doghouse lined with gold. A place under Judas''s feet, heels digging into her back; she''d thank her for the privilege.


    Oh, yes, she could guess where Judas would like to see her. Frankly, it was... Exciting, actually. Arousing. The thought of a riding crop across her ass was dark and sinful and sexy in a way that surprised her and made her shiver. Judas had always been dominant over her; even tonight she was calling the shots, making the calls, taking charge over her charge in a visceral way. To have that kind of dominance in the bedroom... rather, to be allowed to submit so wholly to something like that, gave Esper James more than a small amount of a rush.


    "Say it again. With conviction. ''I''m a dirty girl''. Let me hear you admit it." Judas pushed her chair out but leaned forwards, propped up on her hands. She, too, was abuzz with anticipation - whereas she was a cruel and demanding dominant, Esper James was a soft, pliable, eager to please submissive. She was wayward and uncertain about just about everything; she needed to be told what to do, ordered how to live, and she was happy to listen. She was thankful for it. She yearned for it.


    Judas was happy to oblige. More than happy, even. She craved it; craved having her little blonde bitch underfoot, at her beck and call. Ordering her around in the office was exciting, it was true... but she wanted more.


    "... I''m a dirty girl, Judas. Just a dirty, naughty, messy girl. I need someone big and strong and smart to tell me what to do, tell me w-when to do it... I need a woman like you to boss me around. Please."


    Ohhhhhh yes. That was exactly what the sanguine seductress wanted to hear. She purred from across the table, slowly getting up from her seat and stepping around the table - her Italian leather shoes were nearly soundless against the hard flooring, but EJ could suddenly feel the warmth of her breath and smell the scent of her perfume. A hand went down to EJ''s thigh, starting at her knee and slowly going higher - another one picked up a strip of meat between two fingers, going to dangle it in the air in front of the ghoul''s face.


    "Open wide, you filthy little slut. Let me feed you... You''re too drunk to even speak right. You need help, don''t you? You''ve always needed help. But don''t worry about that; I''m here now. I''ll help you...~"


    EJ could feel herself pitching a tent beneath the table, something that Judas''s exploring hand quickly discovered. It slipped beneath her waistband and took charge, making Esper James gasp in surprise - Judas''s hand was soft and delicate, but her grip was firm; her pointer and thumb ringed the ghoul''s hilt, giving her a light squeeze. EJ whimpered, but stayed silent - she simply opened her mouth and let her tongue roll out, eager for whatever Judas might give her.


    The strip of meat was laid into her mouth gingerly, and torn to absolute shreds in seconds; she couldn''t control herself, that nearly-raw meat dripping juice into her mouth as it was slivered. She swallowed with relish, shivering as it slithered down her throat. She opened her mouth and leaned up to wrap her lips around Judas''s fingers, sucking them clean; below her belt, Judas was quick to reward her for obedience.


    -


    Dinner went thus, a cool and collected vampire training her new pet ghoul to do as she was told. By time they made it back out to the limousine EJ was a pent-up mess, a ticking time bomb, a steam valve ready to blow. Judas corralled her with a lazy arm around her shoulder, leading her into the darkened limo with all the benevolent intent of a fox in a henhouse. The pair settled in, and Judas was back to teasing her almost immediately; she didn''t even miss a beat as the chauffeur asked where they wanted to head next. Judas answered without turning her head, all her focus currently on ensuring she pushed the blonde to the edge without letting her teeter over quite yet.


    "Back to my estate. I had other plans, but... I think we can skip those~"


    The vehicle began to move just as Judas''s hands did. It was going to be a looooong night for the eager little secretary...

 Act Two (Ch. 14) - F眉nf; or, Baby It鈥檚 Cold

    The drive was long. It was simultaneously tedium and bliss; purgatory and euphoria. In this ebon coffin of wheels and steel they rode, void of words but blessed of sound, cooing and humming and whimpering and all such things as those. In the arms of a vampire did a ghoul find comfort, two corpses reborn through modern marvels and clandestine methods, the complexity of their lives a beautiful simplicity in the grand scheme of the city. This city. Vitus.


    Vitus has, of course, not always existed - and even in its current state it is the child of thought and mystique, the son-and-daughter of a long and arduous campaign which has long been forgotten save by a chosen few. It is not a city that exists needlessly, and it is not coincidence that it is only here wherein the second-living congregate. Vitus was built with a plan in mind, a plan which its creator would never truly see to completion. Let me tell you a little bit about it, if you would, as our heroine and her heroin head further towards the ''exclusive'' section of the megalopolis.


    -


    Long ago, Vitus was a concept; Tsang Solutions did not exist; the East, the West, the South, and the Far North were not divied. That did not, of course, mean there was peace. In the year 29XX, two hundred years before our present day, there existed only one nation, one government, and one system. This was known as Polis.


    Polis, or ''City-State'' in Greek, was the result of a decades-long conflict known historically as World War III, but deemed romantically ''The War of Benefaction''. World War III came as a long and drawn-out burden, a final settling of old-world grudges between the major factions of modern society. It was seen as inevitable, and a necessity to progress socially, economically, and politically. All participants entered upon an agreed set of terms, and thus the battle began in earnest.


    For a war, it was tame; at this point technology had advanced to such degree that most conflicts were carried out through proxy, whether mechanical or economical. This time, this final time, the slumbering elders of the globe agreed that this was to be a ''proper'' war. That no filthy tactics were to be used, no needless casualties incurred, no criminal acts carried out, and no destruction which became too widespread. It was a game, on a grand scale - real flesh-and-blood soldiers carried out orders which were directed by a touch-screen or computer monitor. It was a backseat conflict.


    And then, in the end, there was a winner - this winner, who had done all in their power to stay alive rather than win, had come into great power as the result of a donation by an unnamed individual: the titular benefactor. This benefactor had accrued great knowledge and influence in their time living, and sought after naught but peace... for a price. They would hand this small, nameless nation who only desired to preserve itself the world, in exchange for immortality.


    There was an agreement made in a shadowy place, with a time limit provided: two hundred years. The benefactor would return when the time was up to collect upon the promised exchange, and in return, this nameless city-state would gain the keys to the kingdom. Overnight the world''s banks froze. The people revolted. The armies ceased fire. There was crowned a winner.


    And so the world was united, and while rebellion existed, peace reigned en-masse. Then came the problem of how to actually deliver upon this promise, this granted gift of life unending. Technology had become advanced, but was still centuries from allowing one to exist indefinitely. Polis only had 200 years to reign-in their many newly governed regions and provide the benefactor with an adequate solution. This was now the new issue, and all the world''s researchers were set to work - at least in a governmental capacity.


    Within Polis itself, factions were quickly forming. In the remains of Eurasia, a growing movement for technological perfection was forming as science furthered itself: proof of mechanized implantation and augmentation extending longevity to an alarming degree had begun to surface, along with evidence that it was safe to use and was becoming more sophisticated by the minute. To the leader of Polis they proposed this, to mechanize the benefactor entirely under a new global department for cybernetics known as Theseus Division.


    Further ideas came then from Africa and Australia, who distanced themselves from Eurasia, and another radical idea was proposed by those who lived high in the stars upon the Pangea Ring. However, North and South America''s idea was what we see today: to not provide a surrogate body for the benefactor, which would artificially provide immortality by technicality, but to sustain one single flesh; to truly provide life eternal, housed in a body of living meat and blood and bones.


    This project was first known as the Vitality Solution, and scientists assembled from around the globe to design it. Hours upon hours of data were scoured; tests which would make even the most heinous war-criminals nauseous were carried out; the limits of the human body were pushed to the extreme and then further, the objective of their findings slowly becoming muddled in time. Vitality Solution because Vita-Solution, then Vitasol, and then, finally, Vitus.


    They built the city not for wealth, or humanity, or the betterment of all. It was built to see how far things could go.


    -


    The limousine arrived with little better than a whispering of wheels, black asphalt kissing blacker rubber in the moonlit night''s air. Within, two women lay somewhat entangled in a comfortable mess, no booze left to imbibe, no blood left to consume. In this moment they were enough for one another, one cool and the other hot, one short and the other tall. Their moment to languish came, lingered and passed. They pried themselves free of one another, whispering soft concessions that neither was in proper mind to hear or address.


    The door was opened.


    Out stepped a single heel-clad foot; Judas followed closely behind it, drawn out from the luxury automobile with all the grace of a prowling panther and twice the guile. In the silvery luminescence of streetlight and lunar glow, her skin glistened gently; her neck was dappled with droplets, and it took her a few moments to speak. First, a breath in of the cool air which surrounded her, her breath coming out misty. It was winter, after all.


    "Eej... Esper James. Come on, come on... Let''s go. Don''t tell me you fell back asleep! I know, it''s a long drive, but come on... You better not pass out just as we''re about to get to the best part. Aren''t you excited~?"


    She turned around to see a pale-skinned hand reaching from the modern carriage, its ivory tone in comedic contrast to the abyss which it protruded from. Judas smirked, lips silent, and took the dainty appendage in her own strong grasp. With a careful hoist she found herself in the company of a short, wobbly, blonde-haired girl, who had dyed the tips of her impressive silken mane a deep black. Esper James Price Wynnfield, the heroine of our story, currently drunk on love and blood.


    EJ was on loose footing from her legs alone, and being whisked up so abruptly prompted a stumble and fall straight into the waiting arms of a nocturnal predator. Judas rolled her eyes and let her smirk become a smile as the accidental embrace came. To her, it was so natural as to be thoughtless - putting her arms around the diminutive blonde, that was. After all, she was her secretary. That meant she was her property subordinate, and such things were free to use as was necessary. A good hug could count as necessary in a pinch.


    "Jude... I''m..." EJ yawned, rubbing at one of her eyes even as her head laid angled into Judas''s chest. It was a cozy, comforting position for her: having her body wrapped up in the cloak of another''s arms and torso, sheltered from the wind and cold by a warm body and hopefully warmer heart. Judas leaned down and pecked her date''s forehead, leaving a thin reminder in cherry-cinnamon lipgloss. It felt damp and cool in the after-hours breeze, but it was shaped like the lips of a lover, and that was good enough for EJ.


    "Sleepy? Yes, I know - all that blood is wearing off. You''re all snuggly and cute now... I could just eat you up, babe. Really sink my fangs into that soft-looking neck of yours, haha... Let''s get inside. I think it''s gonna snow soon, and I doubt that you''d be happy to get turned into a corpscicle."


    A sleepy undead noggin nodded innocently against the breasts it was pillowed upon, big green eyes gazing up at the bosom''s owner. The vampire stared back, smiling, stroking a hand absentmindedly through gossamer locks as she ushered her prey further inside.


    Before them sat a building at least four stories high; a veritable manse, though compact and surrounded by an impressive garden decorated with wrought iron and gargoyles and such gothic architecture as to be nearly comedic given the owner''s state of life. Judas was, without a doubt, quite the dramatic... Windows were unlit as of yet, but as Judas took the heavy brass knocker in her hand to pull the front door aside, a fireplace in the main hall flared to life. The flame was real - must''ve been expensive.


    "Ta-daaaaaaaa...~ Welcome to my maison, mon petite cheri. I think that means ''welcome to my mansion, my little sweetheart''. Something like that, I guess... And no, before you ask, I live alone; just me and my cat, he''s a little sweetheart. You''ll see him sometime tonight, I''m sure." Judas drew EJ in and shut the door with her foot, making soft tsk''s and coos to distract her date from the sound of a lock clicking shut.


    The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    "Ohhh... Judas, it''s so pretty! Wow, I just... Geez, haha, my house is nothing like this. I''m really jealous, actually..." EJ was too drunk to lie. The decor was right up her alley - gothic but tasteful, antique but refined. The flooring was a dark hardwood and the wallpaper was red with a gold brocade design splattered across it. Everything was delightfully retro, in fact; it was a dream home for the wayward secretary, everything her gentle and tender necrotic heart desired. She wondered how Judas could afford it.


    Judas, on the other hand, was already enamored with how easily EJ gave praise; normally her business associated feigned indifference to the lavish interior of her home, but EJ''s rush to validate the decor and show her wholehearted approval was delicious. "Oh~ Thank you, thank you, you''re faaaaaar too kind to me, my dear... Shall I show you the den? The dining room? The wine cellar? No, perhaps not that one... I like you drunk but I don''t want you to overdo it, you know? Oh, hell with it, why not straight to the most interesting part of the tour: the bedroom?"


    While Judas had teased the ghoul rather handily (pun intended) back at the Chateau, and had done her best to keep the submissive''s spirits high on their way back to the home, she had done naught else. It was likely her toy was pent up even in her exhausted state, ready to blow at the flick of a switch... or a finger. Indeed, at the mention of the bedroom, EJ perks up.


    Judas began to lead her lover through narrow hallways rife with adornment: paintings of winter landscapes, wall hangings depicting bats and flowers and moonlit evenings. Her hands and grasp were a rock of solidarity in the addled ghoulette''s mind, leaned into as necessary as they passed oaken door frames and pictures of predatory animals in action.


    Eventually a staircase was met, spiraled in design and looming ever higher into a gloomy stairwell, the light seeming to die away the further it ascended. Judas missed no beat; strong arms lifted the wary woman into a Princess style carry, held like a hammock between either forearm. EJ yelped as she was lifted, heart jumping into her throat as her autonomy was stolen away.


    However, it was... comforting being in Judas''s arms. The masochist thrill of having her freedom deprived in myriad ways rippled through her once more, even something so small as being lifted without permission giving her a gentle buzz. She nuzzled up to her date, giving a weak and fang-toothed grin. "O-Oh... Uh... Thanks, Judas..."


    "Of course, love~ You look way too fucked up to climb these on your own, and I''d hate to stain my wooden floor with your pretty red blood..." Judas purred, hand stroking her plaything''s head and running fingers through her cornsilk locks. EJ snuggled closer, shutting her eyes; she smelled like booze and perfume in a stale sort of way, but Judas loved it.


    Click. Clack. Clicka-clack. Judas''s fashionable shoes offered a percussive backing for the pair''s spiraling ascent, slowly and steadily advancing towards the top floor. Their heartbeats were sluggish to match the manager''s footsteps, though not for Judas''s lack of excitement. Finally, then, they reached the top of the stairs. Before the pair of women lay a short hallway with two doors: one at the end, dark walnut wood engraved with some light floral motifs, and a double-door to the left with windows in the top that led to a balcony. Outside, snow was pouring down into the city like a sprinkling of cremation ash.


    The door was reached and opened, portal thrown wide to the master (or mistress?) bedroom. It was very... Judas, and Esper James couldn''t help but gasp and blush as the truth of it was revealed. While the general color scheme was retained, the decor became lavish and perverse: a bed nearly as big as EJ''s lay at the furthest end of the room beneath a large skylight, illuminating the bedchamber itself and revealing the toys within.


    A large wardrobe lay to one side, half-cracked open with glints of steel and hints of leather from harnesses and collars hanging within; a toy chest sat at the foot of the bed, it''s content a mystery but somewhat implied; an easy chair with a bottle of wine set beside it on an end table; a large wooden X, complete with adjustable manacles was laid against the wall; a wooden sawhorse with cushioned rests for body and limbs sat tucked into a corner, beside a cabinet laden with candles. Upon the wall, a rack of whips, crops, and paddles caught the light.


    EJ instantly thought back to that momentary imagining from earlier: of herself on her knees and hands, collared and leashed, drinking champagne from a bowl. Seemed that she had been almost completely on the money. Her blue-balled loins were quick to react even as Judas shut the door behind them, carrying her to the bed and giving her a gentle toss onto its cushy surface.


    "Mmmm...~ This is how most good dates end, right? With the one who paid taking their prize back home to bed with them? I''ll admit, I haven''t used most of this stuff in years and years... but I''m pretty excited to give you what you deserve~"


    What she deserved, eh? EJ''s mind raced with possibilities as her fingers fumbled with the buttons to her shirt. Judas assisted; she leaned over the ghoul girl and went straight for her pants, far more sober than her quarry. The pair worked in sloppy tandem to disrobe the submissive secretary, her body soon bared beneath the moonlight. She was glistening from nervous sweat, eyes wild and lip bit; her flesh was nearly pearl in the lunar glow from the skylight.


    In her drunken noggin, EJ''s pounding heart drowned out any thoughts she could have conjured. Her body was in control as her consciousness whirled, whole body naked and presented to her boss like a lamb to the slaughter. Somewhere between lust and fear fell bliss, and she was surely blissful - especially as the tip of her pride and shame had a long, affectionate kiss planted on it.


    Esper James yelped at the brazen act, but her womanhood twitched for the effort. Judas winked, her tongue rolling out like Hell''s own red carpet, coiling around her guest of honor before the encore followed down to EJ''s base. It was just the warm-up that the sloshed and weary girl needed to snap to wakefulness, hands going to Judas''s head to run through her hair as their bodies met.


    Love from word-of-mouth was made with sweet passion, Judas''s tongue and gag reflex more than prepared for the task presented. Sloppy and wet and warm, slow and teasing and sensual... This wasn''t Judas''s first rodeo, and her motions were as practiced and precise as all the rest. She brought EJ up to bear then dropped her time and time again, nearly letting her rest only to set her back to work mercilessly. Esper James writhed upon the soft satin sheets in a world of her own lust, the snow outside the only thing that could penetrate her stupor.


    Soon the presentation went from oral to demonstrative, but not without the first of many rushes of hot pleasure as Judas benevolently allowed her prey to climax. Two minutes to rest and breathe and clean herself up a bit and then she was back to work, the chest opened and its contents put to use. EJ found herself curled onto her back, heels near her head, as Judas took a dominant posture; at first she worked only with her hands, but tools quickly came to assist.


    This was much different than her time with Purity. With the pink haired human, EJ felt nervous at first but comforted and loved as their time together went on. It was sensual and intimate lovemaking, an inexperienced beginner being led and taught by a more experienced lover. It had been gentle and kind and, in her mind, less about pleasure than about togetherness.


    This was not so wholesome, not by a long shot. Judas wanted to impress and overwhelm her without a doubt; she wanted to make EJ quiver and squirm and melt into a puddle, to make her peak over and over in a barrage of positions and methods, to wring her dry until she was completely devoted to the vampire. In a way, it was working... The new experiences and sensations were tempting in a way she had never felt.


    Between the soft kiss of silicone and the harsh lash of leather, EJ found salvation. It was good to be a plaything. She had already known these feelings from how Judas treated her in the office, and how Puri coddled her, but as welts formed on her back and thighs she felt released. Finally things drew to a close with the sawhorse holding her aloft as Judas made use of her, a thin, milky trail of love and a film of sweat on the cushions left as a reminder of her time there.


    EJ staggered to her feet after a bit while Judas cleaned, nude and messy and sore and relieved, stumbling straight into the dominatrix''s arms. Their embrace was warm and damp, Judas smiling from ear to ear, EJ only smirking as best her tired face could. There was no need for further talk, though sweet nothings and gentle words were exchanged in mumbled phrases. It had been satisfying; cathartic, even. The room was a mess, Judas''s ambitions leading to a rigorous use of anything she deemed fit. EJ was exhausted.


    They flopped onto the bed and crawled beneath the thick covers, EJ snuggling to Judas while the latter laid back and relaxed. Mere minutes later the pair were asleep and laid upon one another, drifting through waves of dream. In the silence, all that one could truly hear was the falling snow.


    Downstairs, in the now unlit main hall, where the fireplace no longer burned, a door clicked open. A hand reached out from the blackness to push it free.


    -


    Esper James dreamed again tonight. In her dream she sat upon a boat, a great freighter, in the midst of a vast black ocean. Overhead, the mood pierced through choking grey and black clouds to light the world as best it could; however, only the empty deck of the freighter itself could be seen. No cargo containers lay atop it, and in theory none were below; no other crew members were in sight either. She was completely alone.


    Suddenly, a sound broke through the silence: singing, beautiful singing, from a woman whose voice was painfully familiar but still unable to be placed. It was a vocalization which was unparalleled, making Esper James think of opera, or a religious choir; a vibrato which rippled the waves, and a soprano which pulled her closer and closer to the stern.


    She searched as far as she could, looking into the murky depths and squinting to try and see, but nothing came to her save for stronger and stronger music. Glinting metal began to float up from the depths, merely shards at first, but growing larger by the moment. Slivers became chunks, which became quarters, which became semicircles... which became full spheres, spined like cacti. They surrounded the boat in all directions.


    The first of them touched the boat just as the unseen songstress hit her crescendo. A violent explosion crashed through the freighter''s hull, twisted steel and smoking debris sent flying in a cascade of water droplets. Water started to fill the hull quickly even as another mine smashed into the starboard side, sending EJ tumbling onto her ass, fear filling her tender heart. Sure, the mines wouldn''t kill her, but drowning was still painful - it would be days and days before she washed up anywhere.


    And then the freighter was slipping below the waves, capsized completely, dragging EJ down with it like she was lead. Together they fell into the bluish blackness of the underwater world, and the ghoul was alone. It was cold, and burned, like the dead womb she had been born into; she could see nothing, hear nothing, feel nothing but alcoholic sting.


    From the darkness came a hand, metallic and rusted, built from scrap and forgotten ships. EJ tried to scream as it grabbed her by the ankle, dragging her down further towards a quickly growing field of glowing red dots, but her lungs already held no air. The singing began again, now a chorus as hand after hand reached up to touch her.


    And then, nothingness.

 Act Two (Ch. 15) - A Deafening Interlude: Dance Advance Revolution

    Earlier that night, as Judas and EJ put the cream-filled center into their ¨¦clair of a date, trouble of a different kind entirely is brewing.


    A tan-skinned Italian woman finds her way into a dangerous nightclub despite the fact the bouncer can tell she''s not a corpse and her skin''s still cooled. She wears a loose black tank top that says ''HATE FUCK'' in big bold letters, her pseudomuscular arms are laden with buckles and straps which themselves are abundant in studs and plates, and baggy black cargo pants keep her fully modest. Her nails are painted black and white in alternation, her heels (also spiky and checkerboard - seeing a theme, perhaps?) give her an extra four-and-a-half inches of height, and she shows off fresh tattoos of katanas, skulls, smoke, and shell casings.


    On her neck sits a cute collar with a heart buckle in the middle, doubling as a ring-gag for good little subs. This woman was not one of these. She was a brat. She had borrowed it, however, and didn''t realize the significance it held. To her, it was a fun accessory to help her fit in, and a potential tool to be applied in a kink scenario. Hopefully she wouldn''t need it for the latter tonight, but one never knew with these degenerate Westerners.


    The establishment, aptly named The Jezebelle Club, was thrumming with activity. It always was, even during weekdays; such was the innate desire for hedonism, for release from daily stress and work-life balance, that even the most timid officegoer could find themselves wrapped up in something far beyond them. Something dark, and dirty, and dangerous, and a little bit sexy - something undead. That was exactly what the woman was hoping for.


    Of course, this woman''s name was Esthrielle, or Est, for short. She had come a long way to do a lot of bad, bad things, to a lot of bad, bad people, and also a regrettably large amount of innocents. However, she was under order from the Pope himself, il Papa, and she couldn''t very well let him down.


    She steps up to the bar, eyeing up the man behind it. He was tall, and broad, and built almost the same as the bouncer - a vampire without a doubt, and with the vampirism came many things. His eyes were red and jewel-like, shimmering as they came to be seen, and his dazzlingly white teeth were offset by larger-than-was-natural canines. These were engraved with crosses, right side up and upside down, then filled in with silver to make a fashion statement. The silver kept them from re-growing. His ebon hair, short dreadlocks in a shaggy style, was a compliment to his dark skin; he had a chiseled jawline and elegant, masculine features. The man couldn''t help but smile and bare his teeth when he saw Est.


    "Oooohhh... What brings you here, girl? Y''all new in town? I''ve never seen you around this spot before... I''m Roth, head bartender. Lemme get you a ''welcome to down'' drink - what''ll you have?"


    Roth winked, sending out those unseen tendrils of influence towards Est''s cranium. He might have been surprised to learn she was completely resistant to such things, if he could tell; but the way she smiled and swooned, head in her hands, her Eastern accent suppressed and rolling out as an East Coast socialite''s cute, breathy drawl. She fluttered her lashes as she responded.


    "Oohhh~! Yeah, thank you soooooooooo much; I moved here ''cause I heard so much about how cool this place is, y''know? Haha! But, really, I''ve got friends out here... I''m here visiting, and because San Andreas has been acting up so much that I can''t take it anymore. The stack-cities aren''t for me... I wanna be here! Midwest! Home of the living-fucking-dead, hahaha~!"


    Maybe she was laying it on a bit thick, but the flashed devil''s horns from either hand and the stuck-out pink of her tongue helped sell her airheaded punkette act. She had even gone to such lengths as accruing multiple piercings, facial and otherwise, to fit into this sort of nightlife crowd. Roth''s laughter in response seemed to signal he was buying it. "Oh! And, uh, an ax-murder, please!"


    This one got Roth''s eyebrows raised, and as he absentmindedly mixed the simple drink he began to question her. "Ax-murder, eh? You''re not dead. I can smell it on you - you don''t smell like, uh... Well, right. You don''t have fangs, and you''re way too lively for a zombie... Just an enthusiast, then?"


    Enthusiast here meant wannabe, or perhaps poseur; despite Vitus''s population all slowly getting funneled into the great necromantic engine of its cold morgue-wombs, killing yourself led to immediate zombification and harsh legal repercussions. Most undead-admirers simply lived fast and died young to accelerate the process... or hired hitmen.


    "Pshhhh! Ok, yeah, you got me! I''m not actually dead... yet. But we can all hope, right? Besides, it''s not like those fuckin'' normies out there know what they''re missing. It''s gotta be sick as hell, right?" She gestured vaguely to the club entrance, still smiling her winning, empty-headed smile. Roth nodded, playing along with her; he knew the truth, that undeath was shit for most, but he was one of the lucky few. He could charade a bit.


    "Oh, you''ve got no clue. Faster, stronger, sexier, immortal... Plus some tight powers, you know. Can''t do sports or shit like that without a license, but, you know... Worth it." His smile widened conspiratorially before he burst out once again in half-laughter, which Est happily joined. Her ax-murder was pushed forward and sprinkled with black pepper, a thin straw for stirring added afterwards.


    "Mmmmh... I''ve got an idea, I think...~" Doe eyes cast a bedroom glance over Roth''s physique, bringing the straw to her supple, thin lips. A slight pucker, her cheeks dipping inwards by naught more than a hair, as the salty-sweet elixir filled her mouth and drained down her throat. Roth adjusted his stance, flexing subtly; it wasn''t great to flirt with customers when so much of the night was left, and while Est seemed like exactly the sort of cute, empty-headed rave slut that made places like the Jezze so popular, there was something... off about her.


    Maybe it''d go away if she got drunk?


    Unfortunately for Roth, Est was just playing the game; she had no intention of going home with anyone tonight, for better or for worse. However, she did have a reason to be here other than partying and flirting with the local wildlife: a Tsang industries contact, a double-agent, who had reached out to the Knights through some pretty desperate methods. She was looking for a way to strike back at her ''employers'' and get out of the charade life she had been living... Regardless of the means required.


    That was good. Est liked people who were cooperative. She wasn''t here to fuck around and wrangle assets... she was a killer, a warrior, with a mission given by God. Or, the figurehead for God, at least. Go figure.


    "So," Est said, sipping her drink, "what''s the dance scene like here? Lotta people like to get out there, or am I wasting my time on a weeknight?" She winked, gulping down the rest of the spicy red fluid in her glass. It wasn''t good - at least, not to her - but even the most basic poser at least tried to look like they fit in. Hell, the alcohol didn''t even affect her; she had her hepatic biofilter engaged and was actively filtering free any drop of the common poison that passed into her system. May as well have poured the drink on the floor for all it was worth.


    Roth didn''t reply. Instead, he gestured out to the dancefloor, which was thrumming with life. Colored lights strobed and flared from a ceiling-mounted scaffold of lamps and floodlights; faux smoke rolled near the ground and sparsely in the air from a nearby machine; something loud and grinding and German hollered over massive speakers set into the walls, the bass of it palpable not only in the air but also the stools and floor. Even on a midweek midnight the club was thriving, being so close to Tsang Solutions as it was.


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    "Oooohhhh... Hmm...~ I think I better get out there, then! Maybe I''ll find someone cute, yeah? It''s so lonely, being the new girl in town..." Saccharine syrup dripped from her words and lips, the honeyed naivety bordering between coy and genuine. It was just the right level of innocence, of obliviousness, to make a vampire''s predatory senses raise up to a 10. Roth went to say something, hand going out, but Est had already hopped down from the stool and was beginning to make her way into the crush.


    Like a porno without the nudity, the dance floor was drowning in it''s own muted sexuality. Flesh on flesh with thin layers between crashed upon itself in tidal waves, the living and the dead both too drunk on lust and drugs and blood and booze to notice who they were dancing with, past basic features. If one looked hard enough they might be able to see a vampire and their prey grinding and playing, teeth teasingly upon the neck - or maybe a ghoul and an admirer, the former''s inhuman tongue let free to taste forbidden fruit. Zombies and aberrations tended to hang out towards the sidelines, letting the more physically fit and agile of the undead have all the fun.


    Est got into things quickly, eyes roving the crowd, body roved by others. There was enough space to get a decent groove going, but her height did present a new problem; the boots helped, but she still was far from the tallest person on the dancefloor. The details regarding her contact were pretty minimal... So minimal, in fact, that they practically boiled down to ''you''ll know her when you see her''. Fat fucking chance. There were dozens of leather-clad punkette bitches and ubergoth latex faeries out here strutting their stuff, tall and short, thin and bulky, and none of them seemed particularly unique...


    Subcultures, eh? They sort of did that to you. By striving to be nonconformant you ended up conforming anyways. Kinda funny, that. A hand slipping through her arm-hole to take a shot at her chest broke her violently from this reverie, and she was wheeling around to bust someone''s teeth in when she got a glimpse at her violator, elbow stopping in-air as the stranger pulled her closer.


    Pink hair, hime cut. Bright, sparkling eyes (tonight pink, with heart-shaped pupils). Fair skin with the lightest peppering of freckles. Plump, pouty lips of an erotic dark pink. A smile that could melt butter. This must''ve been her contact, without a doubt - and if it wasn''t, well, Est could make an exception on the groping just this once. A first time for everything, right?


    Purity pulled Est closer, swaying gently to pantomime dancing once their bodies were in sync; her outfit, a full black latex catsuit that simultaneously left everything and nothing to the imagination, felt cool and comfortable against Est''s pseudoskin.


    "Heyyyyy... You''re not from around here, are you? I''ve never seen a girl rock white hair like you, before... Wanna dance? Or maybe find somewhere to chat? I''d love to get to know you better...~" Those words were like a drug to most, but Est was immune to the true weight they held - the subsonic influence present from voicebox augmentation. The Knight''s mind had been trained and bolstered against such blatant attempts at manipulation, though being held and whispered to like this had its own way of stacking the chips against oneself.


    "U-Uhh... Yeah! Yeah, let''s goooooo... Hmm... Let''s talk a bit! You''re pretty cute, I''d hate to miss a chance to get some one-on-one with you, haha..." The operative''s words caught in her throat as she spoke, but Purity didn''t seem to mind. The taller girl (still fairly bigger than Est through mercy of built-in heels on her outfit) leaned down to plant a pink kiss upon her left cheek, turning the pseudoflesh hot with blush.


    Without further speech they headed back towards a booth surrounding the dancefloor, shrouded with darkness and smoke. Est sat first; Purity slid in right beside her, blocking her from view even further while also getting intimately close. The Knight was between a wall and a soft place, being squished slightly by both; Purity even threw an arm around her to keep her close, head tucking down to nestle into the crook of Esthrielle''s neck.


    "So... Are you from out of town, little lamb? You seem lost... I thought a more experienced girl like me should probably come take care of you...~" Purity drizzled her candied tones into Est''s waiting ear, but that wasn''t all - she was speaking in code, only slightly, just enough to tease Est into replying in turn. ''Little Lamb'' wasn''t just about one''s innocence and harmlessness - it was a symbol, one which Est knew well from her time in the East.


    "Oh, yes - quite lost... Would you be my shepherd~?" A little dated, a little strange, but that was the Church for you. Purity''s smile widened as the passphrase was sent, giving Est another quick peck and a squeeze. She shut her eyes to take a deep breath, and Est did the same, drawing up that strawberry-bubblegum scent that seemed to perpetually hang around Puri''s sugary silhouette.


    "Yesssssss! Yes, of course! Oh, fuck, thank god you''re here; I''ve never done this kind of shit before, at least not for anyone other than you-know-who, so... Fuck, fuck, I''m so excited. I''m so relieved! I thought you were gonna be some huge burly bitch with blades for arms, o-or a gun for a mouth, or, or... Shit... Something like that. But you''re cute, and normal looking, and you don''t seem like some kind of psycho killer..."


    Purity''s suit creaked almost inaudibly as her black-clad fingers wiped away a bead of nervous sweat from her forehead, wetting the already glossy material. Est, meanwhile, felt much the same relief - and a bit of disappointment that she hadn''t just been randomly selected by a hot club beauty to have drinks and get fondled. Ah well; maybe they''d have time for that later, eh?


    "Yeah... I mean, we take pride in our appearance, y''know? I don''t know anyone even back home who looks like a ''psycho killer''- actually, wait, I guess... Hmm. You may have a point. Look, that doesn''t matter right now; give me the run-down. All of it. Maybe we''ll have enough time, then, for a dance, or some drinks...?" There was a hopeful tinge in Est''s tone, but in the end all that truly mattered was her assignment. Business and pleasure could be mixed, but only if the clock allowed.


    "Oh! Y-Yeah, yes! Ok, so... There''s this woman, Judas Alighieri... She''s in charge of the GRD at Tsang, really a big-shot with money and power and shit, but she''s more of a taskmistress than a scientist. Makes sure everything runs smooth, yeah? Cracks the whip, aims the gun, all that shit. If something were to happen to her... Even just a minor inconvenience, put her in the hospital for a few days to regenerate a leg or something... Well, it''d really slow things down for them. HUGE wrench in their plans."


    Shit, that sounded good. Damn good. There was something poetic about the name ¡®Judas Alighieri¡¯, but also something frankly pretty¡­ edgy. It sounded fake. Like, who the fuck names their kid Judas? And Alighieri? Like Dante Alighieri, a la Dante¡¯s Inferno? But Purity¡¯s conviction warded off any doubt that may have been planted into Est¡¯s mind, well-intentioned or otherwise. The fact that she was holding her with such loving familiarity certainly helped smooth things along¡­


    ¡°Hmm¡­ ok. Works for me. But I need more than a name, hot stuff¡­ do you know a location? Maybe an address I could go to? Hell, even something like what floor she works on would help.¡± Est snuggled up to Purity, trying to make it look every bit as though she was just searching for some touch if any observers were to get wise to their interaction. Purity responded in kind, her outside arm moving to put a hand on Est¡¯s lap - her thumb slipped beneath the waistband, tugging gently.


    ¡°Mmmnnnhh¡­ I could do that, yeah¡­ But what¡¯s in it for me? How do I know you¡¯re not going to take my intel and leave me out in the cold? I want some¡­ security to my investment. Prove that you¡¯re not gonna stab me in the back.¡± Purity emphasized this point with a tightened grip, palming Est through her pants, showing her that she meant business. It didn¡¯t get the message across as intended, just making Est¡¯s loins tingle with sudden warmth.


    The terrorist, however, was well aware of what Puri really meant. She sighed, reaching into her pocket and producing a small USB-like device from one of her many baggy pockets. However, instead of a USB ending, it seemed more like a spike - something meant to stab into interfaces, like a dagger. She slipped it into Purity¡¯s hand - the one on her shoulder, not her lap.


    ¡°¡­here. This little baby will end all your troubles¡­ Just send it with your next little dead drop grab bag and it¡¯ll activate as soon as they scan it. Don¡¯t worry about what it does; the less you know the better. I hear some of those people can pick up lies in speech, or something crazy like that¡­ and we wouldn¡¯t want them finding out you¡¯re willingly giving them a toy from us, right?¡±


    She laughed, and Puri followed - albeit, somewhat stilted, nervous. The deal was completed, the transaction secure. It was safe for Purity to give her the whole truth, all of it - right down to Judas¡¯s home address, and that she¡¯d be out for a date today. Perks of being friends with her target¡¯s secretary, eh?


    The two spent an hour or two more together, reveling in what the night may bring, before Est departed. She headed over on foot, going there straightaway; when she arrived, all the lights were off. As expected.


    Her palm went to the lock, and in a mere moment she was in. Upstairs, two bio-signs were detected; no more in the house, save for one in the basement. Ominous, but not a problem. She¡¯d figure it out.


    With a sound no louder than a whisper, she pushed the door open.

 Act Two (Ch. 16) - Red in the White; or, That Time The Author Forgot A Chapter Name

    Tiptoe, tiptoe¡­ An intruder entered the manse. Clad in black from head to toe, tight to the flesh and matte to keep from catching the light, Esthrielle slithered her way into the building. She was a black mamba, a death adder, a sneaking, writhing coil of ebony whose every movement was as soft as fleece or new fallen snow. Her moves were almost completely silent, thin-soled leggings instead of boots allowing the utmost stealth - in theory.


    In truth, Judas was woken from her sleep almost immediately - the synthetic scent of pseudoflesh and living breath was unmistakable, and roused her like a gunshot. It was danger on the wind, death in the air, the enemy known to her long before sight could reveal them. She sat up slowly so as to not startle last night¡¯s meal - the little blonde secretary - but fast enough that by time Est reached the kitchen Judas was in a full sit.


    The exec cast a somber look down at her lover, gently pushing aside some stray golden locks from that perfect pale face. EJ had certainly grown on her¡­ Romantically and sexually. Judas couldn¡¯t remember the last time she had enlisted such an eager to please personal assistant, and her performance (though amateurish) had been endearing and enthusiastic. What she lacked in ability, she made up for in ambition; for a woman like Judas, that was perfect. She could always spend more time whipping her into shape¡­ a little after-hours training, perhaps.


    She didn¡¯t want EJ involved in this, whatever ¡®this¡¯ was going to evolve into. The vampiress had dealt with myriad assassination attempts in her lifetime, and obviously thwarted each and every one: silver bullets, firebombs, electroshock needles, and straight-up cremation. She wasn¡¯t afraid of some petty sneak slinking about her home, looking to do away with one of the most powerful women in all of Vitus. When her mind turned to EJ, though¡­ she grew wary. She didn¡¯t want to need to replace her. She was too fond of this one.


    Up and out of bed she went, lithe agility putting all of God''s creatures to shame, her mind wide awake and eyes piercing the darkness. Judas''s bare feet padded softly towards the door and out of the bedroom, heading to that great and ominous stairwell - no sound echoed in the house save for the ticking of a grandfather clock. The smell, however, lingered - overpowering chemical aroma that it was in comparison to the organic, comforting scent of her own flesh and blood, it was easy to place. She was in the master bathroom.


    Down she went, flexing and flexing, arm slowly bending to her will as fingernails and bone began to fuse into lethal, hideous claws. A secret well-kept amongst the highest of the corporate hierarchy, the second-living were not as eternal in their form as the wider public have been led to believe: in truth, the process that allows them endless regeneration is also what provides them a distinctly amorphous quality which remains unequalled in the mortal world. With enough concentration and willpower, the stasis which was placed upon the body¡¯s cells could be forcibly altered to provide a new, semi-permanent framework.


    Judas had had many hours of practice with this particular discipline. After all, she was one of a select few who even knew it was possible.


    -


    Est crept up the smooth wooden stairwell like a shadow in the night, unseen and unheard, as easy to overlook as a far off deadline (not that the author would know anything about that¡­). Her eyes roved the decor within the pitch black mansion, taking in the gothic furnishings and golden filigree and all those little touches that truly made it ¡®Judas¡¯. Sure, it seemed to fit her name and reputation as a brutal task mistress, dramatic vampiress, and cruel sadist¡­ but there was a passion for art there that couldn¡¯t be denied. It wasn¡¯t the soulless corporate husk she had been expecting; far from the minimalism which the digitized South enjoyed, and not so chrome and industrial as the blasphemous Far North. It was stylish.


    Not that such things mattered - she had to kill this bitch regardless of if she was ¡®stylish¡¯ or not. In fact it was all the more reason to - one less wannabe art critic in the world to try and play interior decorator. The thought made her grin beneath her half-mask, only her eyes, nasal bridge, and fluffy white hair visible above the tight material. She thought it made her look like a ninja; ironic, then, that she was here to slay a member of Tsang¡¯s capitalistic shogunate.


    Finally, her target was in sight: the master bathroom, third floor of five, large and lavish and almost completely unnecessary. Esthrielle had heard the tales of how the undead¡¯s guts were like a furnace, every bit of meat and water acting as fuel for an unholy fire within. Not like her; not like the New Way. They still retained some semblance of their humanity, unlike these zombified barbarians.


    From her pocket came a small baggie, powdered blood cut with ground silver and garlic. This was just a backup; she clutched it close, the baggie taut and ready to be used like a glitter bomb should the situation arise. She hoped such dirty tricks wouldn¡¯t be necessary, but that didn¡¯t mean she wouldn¡¯t stoop to them if she needed to.


    Stealth was only necessary to prevent police intervention, in the end - she knew Judas would catch her as soon as she headed in, and that a direct conflict was inevitable. Serious, expensive technology would be required to ever evade such powerful, innate senses; she was too expendable to warrant that kind of funding. She had barely scraped together enough to afford her current outfit, and that was with a loan from her family.


    And then, a footstep - just one, outside the bathroom door, loud enough to hear but far from a stomp. It almost made her laugh aloud; a sign of respect from her opponent, being allowed to know that their playing field was as even as one could be. The time for silence and subtlety was long gone. The time for violence was now. She inhaled once, breathing deep of that repulsive dead-but-living aroma, and cleared her throat.


    The door opened, and two pairs of scarlet eyes met one another.


    -


    EJ yawned, eyes bleary and body sore. She felt like she had been put through a fucking washing machine, industrial strength, with an extra hardy spin cycle. She had cuts on her arms and legs, scrapes all along her back, and lash welts striping every part of her one could imagine from the neck down. Her treatment the evening previous would turn even a hardened torturer squeamish, or so she thought; though in honesty she had been rewarded well for her suffering, and Judas was a stern but comforting mistress.


    A fang toothed grin came upon her face as she imagined it all again, lovingly and gingerly tracing the lines which criss-crossed her thighs. It ached now, true, but in a way which she couldn¡¯t deny she was partial to; she felt her toes curl of their own subconscious accord as she took herself in hand, a light bruise formed in the shape of a suspiciously well-fitting silicone ring. That was enough of that, though - it was still early morning, before the sun came up, and she was far from fully rested. What the hell had awoken her?


    The answer came in the form of a crash from a few levels below, the uncanny sound of a body being propelled against a solid wall echoing through the building¡¯s eerie, spacious hallways. The sound was followed soon after by the crack and rattle of gunfire; all hell seemed to be breaking loose only a flight or two away.


    Hopping to her feet, EJ was quick to discover another unfortunate truth: she felt like shit. Oh, sure, any serious damage had been regenerated, but something about a few of Judas¡¯s implements left marks that were quite slow to heal. It made her feel weak and sore and quite in need of a cuddling, which was likely the point - unfortunate, then, that she doubted such a thing was coming her way tonight.


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    As she staggered to the stairwell, weary and aching, an explosion of sound erupted from beneath. Something huge and fragile shattered with ear-pounding resonance, a din seemingly louder than cannon fire, and Judas screamed with fury. A fist of leaden anxiety had begun to truly ball and form within Esper James¡¯s gut, spurring her weary adrenal glands to pump out one last impotent spurt of hormones to boost her on her way. She had to get down there and help, or call the cops, or do¡­ something. Anything. Whatever she could to help Judas.


    Down the stairs she hobbled now, wincing at every step, bones bruised and muscles fractured all throughout her body. Fuck, she¡¯d been damn drunk to let Judas bust her ass up so thoroughly, and she barely even remembered it. What she could recall was, of course, oh so very worth it, but still; it¡¯d be hard to set proper boundaries when Judas was already accustomed to abusing her like a chew toy.


    Reaching the third level, she switched on the lights to try and see - only to have a bullet whiz right past her, nearly punching a hole right in her left ear. She froze in place, hackles raised and eyes open wide, a deer in headlights.


    The two women were at a standstill, Judas¡¯s body layered in cuts and gouges and bullet holes, Est¡¯s riddled with long ribboning cuts and bite marks. The whole floor looked like an absolute mess, a fight club from Hell, with furnishings, decor, and fixtures reduced to shrapnel confetti. That loud crash had been the bathroom mirror, where a distinctly Esthrielle-shaped indent was notably positioned where the majority of the glass had once been.


    EJ¡¯s eyes roved over to Judas, noticing the bestial changes: her claws, vicious and primal; her teeth, each one more akin to a ghoul¡¯s than a vampire¡¯s; her muscles, lean and knotted and strong. Her beautiful black hair was a dismal silken mess, reminiscent more of a horror movie monster than the woman who had blown her mind and body out of the water only last night.


    Esthrielle, too, was worse for wear: her left arm was mangled beyond recognition and leaking blue fake blood, the nutri-fluid which filled her veins making an indigo puddle on the ground. Her right eye had been visibly cracked, it¡¯s LED flickering wildly, the aperture zooming in and out with haphazard abandon. Hell, even her chest was criss-crossed with slashes, her shinobi catsuit cut to shreds. The assassin''s right hand held a sleek black handgun, a small line of smoke drifting from the barrel.


    The three stood in silence for what felt like an eternity: Judas staring daggers at Est and displeasure at Esper James, Esthrielle glancing warily from side to side to try and hide her surprise and worry that EJ was there, and EJ trying not to scream or cry or have some kind of anxious breakdown. Finally, the bewildered blonde broke the silence, welling emotions released in an explosive swell.


    ¡±What the FUCK?!¡±


    The three words lingered like Vitus¡¯s midday smog in the tense air, nearly heavy enough to slip free of their immaterial nature and come crashing down. This was exactly the distraction Est needed: her handgun¡¯s aim left Esper James and switched targets to Judas, hammer flying back and hitting her straight in the right kneecap. Bone chunks flew and gore ensued as the silvered bullet struck true, hobbling the eminent vampiress in an instant; she howled in pain as she was crippled, and Est leapt to her feet.


    She was a flash as she raced for the window, leaping up like a hurdler before smashing through the glass and plummeting to the street below. In theory, she¡¯d be fine - her body was made of tougher stuff than a mere three story fall could put out of commission.


    EJ was in motion as soon as Est had left, rushing over to Judas and dropping to her knees in the pool of blood and silver powder. It burned to touch, that finely ground metal coating the vicinity of the vampire, but right now EJ didn¡¯t care. She had much more pressing business: that is, checking in on her part-time lover. She knew Judas wouldn¡¯t die, of course - Est had specifically shot her non-lethally, but in such a way that pursuit was impossible. She¡¯d need a serious operation to fix this¡­ Not that she couldn¡¯t pay for it, but it would be a week in hospice at least.


    Judas¡¯s body started to revert to normal, gradually and painfully, bringing EJ¡¯s attention back to the fact that her dominatrix had horrible claws and fangs and muscles. ¡°Judas, are you¡­? What the fuck is going on?! You look terrifying, like some propaganda piece for the East, a-and how did you¡­ What-¡°


    She was cut short by Judas, who raised a long-clawed finger to silence her. EJ obediently shut her mouth and listened, concerned but attentive, as Judas mustered up the strength to speak. It took her a few minutes but finally, thankfully, she made out the words.


    ¡°¡­follow her. Go. She can¡¯t go far, she¡¯s¡­ Bleeding like a fucking pig. Just, fuck, just find out where she¡¯s off to¡­ I¡¯ll get the cops called¡­¡± She seemed, by all accounts, a wounded animal - indeed, she was just as feral and majestic and tragic as a dying wolf or elk, if one could look past her horrific musculature. EJ was bewildered by the request, though - follow her? Had Judas gone insane? Completely lost it? Maybe it was from the blood¡­


    ¡±Go! Now! Stop staring at me like a fucking i-idiot and get your ass out there! If you¡¯re scared, I¡¯ve got a gun in the closet by your clothes, just¡­ Take it. She¡¯s too fucked up to fight back, I¡¯d guess; plus, you¡¯re so innocent looking, that bitch would never suspect¡­¡±


    Judas trailed off then, sucking wind through her teeth as they visibly degraded and reformed back into the perfect pearls that had once adorned her sanguine maw. EJ couldn¡¯t help but be somewhere between revolted and awed by the bizarre display, like a bystander watching Mr. Hyde slowly morph back into Dr. Jeckyll.


    Judas wasn¡¯t nearly as amused. Her exhausted expression turned to a low burn as EJ still refused to move - and she was quick to act upon the exasperation she felt, winding back to strike at her subordinate with benefits. The subby little thing was snapped out of her haze by this sudden threat of physical violence, heart leaping into her throat as she staggered backwards and put her hands up in a cowering motion.


    ¡±Ok, ok! I¡¯ll g-go, I-I¡¯ll go! Sorry! Sorry sorry sorry, Judas! I¡¯ll go, uhh, r-right away!¡± She was true to her word on this front, immediately dashing away from the damaged department head without a moment more to chat. Judas let her hand drop as the claws fully receded, her now-slender digits curling into a loose fist. Her gaze fell with it, eventually resting on EJ¡¯s bloody footprints, following them to the doorway and then shutting. She breathed deep, taking in the gunpowder and the blood and the dust and the silver. It burned her lungs.


    ¡±¡­fuck¡­¡±


    -


    EJ dressed in a flash, stealing a slightly oversized fur coat and some fashionable leggings from Judas¡¯s wardrobe; her own clothes stunk like alcohol and rust, and were damp from last night¡¯s sweat. The gun was found quickly and unceremoniously: it was a heavy revolver with her own name engraved along the length of the square barrel, complete with a cross etched into the grip on either side. Dramatic, overbearing, powerful, expensive, a bit much¡­ Just like the woman who owned it, really. It was already loaded, and looked pristine - if it came down to it, EJ wasn¡¯t sure she had the guts to pull the trigger, but if she did it would sure as hell blow someone away.


    Up into the pocket of the coat it went, and as for EJ herself, she slipped on Judas¡¯s comfy shearling boots and rushed out the door. She knew vaguely what she was looking for, but with her nerves frazzled and her brain on red alert from how quickly things were moving, she wasn''t sure she could truly carry out the orders she had been given. Plus, well, something else was bothering her; a nagging doubt in her mind that was growing in insistency as she surveyed the snowy streets.


    Could she actually kill someone? Just like that? Someone whose name and face she knew, someone who had, in a brief and passing sense, become familiar with her?


    Sure, Est was the enemy. From birth until undeath all Western-born are told that the East are their nemeses, that their words and weapons are evil, that their society is built upon cruelty and injustice. The South, the Far North, and those other smaller regions of the Earth where strange freedom is yet found are lesser competitors, bizarre opponents in the grand scheme of cultural dominance, but their ways are less prominent than the ERFS. Those pseudohumans, built of steel and silicone and spite, were the very devil which prevented true peace and prosperity from reigning supreme.


    But was that enough? Was one woman - one pawn in the game, one soldier in an endless shadow-war - deserving of execution? She was already dying, or at least injured to the point of decommission. The blue trail of blood was already freezing from the night air, turned to foul-smelling slush from the falling snow. Did a mere secretary, who had never even known this sort of violence in her life, have what it took to look a cyborg in the eye and end her life?


    Esper James hoped so.


    Into the snow she went, the dim streetlights above her only companion. The moon did not shine nearly so brightly this night, a blanket of pollutant tucking Vitus away to its cold and lonely solitude. The pistol weighed heavily within EJ''s jacket and the boots were too big; they kept the wind from whipping her flesh and the ice from chilling her soles, but otherwise they made her feel wrong.


    In the distance she could already hear the sirens, flashes of red and blue piercing the night''s haze.

 Act Two (Ch. 17) - What Must Be Done; or, Oh, the Humanity(?)

    The ice and slush underfoot provides an unsteady path for our heroine (or at least, our protagonist) to follow. Footsteps and imprints of hot blue fluid within the dingy snowfall act as the breadcrumbs to lead one woman to another''s final hour, heavy gunmetal the second most pressing weight upon her. The streetlamps provide little solace, only enough luminance to track her prey, the low wind beginning to intensify as she stalks the city streets.


    Esper James Price-Wynnfield is, for the millionth time in her life at least, scared.


    Not for herself, per se; she doesn''t expect Esthrielle to put up a fight. She doesn''t think that she could even if she wanted to, but of course she''d been wrong before. No, she''s scared of the whole situation - of completing her task, and what it would mean for herself, for Judas, and for the assassin she sought to slay.


    For herself, it is a moral choice. One being taking the life of another begins as mere absent action, such as when one kills a buzzing fly or humming gnat; it intensifies in importance as the life takes on more facets. Killing a pest is different than killing wild game; killing wild game is different than killing a housepet; killing a housepet is different than killing a person. A human being, even one who seeks to destroy you and your kind, is still a life that has lived through countless experiences. It is irreplaceable.


    And to say, what does the word ''human'' even mean in this modern era? In the South, they digitize and hide within their endless worlds of fabricated fantasy, nothing more than data once they reach a certain age. In the East their bodies are more machine than man, pale facsimiles of the human form, perfected through plastic and silicone and steel. In the Far North a single life is meaningless; thousands more are produced in the blink of an eye, born from apparatuses which would fit a Lovecraftian nightmare. And in the West?


    In the West, in Vitus, life is transitional. Death is a door, and while that which is dead can yet die again, a thousand such deaths may occur before a true release is found. Her mind is jarred back to what she had seen within the estate, grey matter waking up further and further with every step as the realization set in. It pushed bile up into her throat to recall.


    Judas had been monstrous. The woman she had made love to, the one she had worked for for all these years, the immovable object of beauty and intensity and sinister, calculating intelligence which had been such a bittersweet focal point in her life was a creature beyond definition. Her flesh had been contorted and warped; her bones had been stretched and fragmented and reformed into something awful, something hideous that only bore comic resemblance to the default setting that was Judas Alighieri. It had been surreal in a way which only elicited terror and revulsion.


    Was that humanity? To be a being of beauty and grace in the waking world, and revert to monstrosity when necessary - Hell, when advantageous? And if that was what it was to be human, could Esper James bring herself to follow suit when the chips were down and the deadline was drawing near?


    She opened her mouth and spit into the greyish slush, wiping at her nose with the furry sleeve of her coat. Her flesh ached less and less by ticks and tacks as seconds wound away, but that only made her uneasy. Was she still human? She was dead, sure, but this body of hers was still flesh and blood; it was cool save for her innards, yes, but it lived and could breathe if she chose. She had no pulse, but she had a brain that fired neurons and which could learn and adapt and experience things both new and exciting.


    But was she even still a person? Or was she a monster, too? A beast lurking within the frail, timid form of a woman who had been cut down in her prime? A ghostly memory of a young adult with bright eyes and a tragic optimism for life? Would she one day become like Judas, and see her own muscles twist and flex with horrific power, see her bones snap and sinews stretch, watch her features deform into a primal, unnatural reflection of what it meant to be alive?


    The thought sent a shiver down her spine, and she checked her hands - just to be sure, of course. Humanity was a thing to ponder for another day. For now, she had other things to consider - things that made her a step less existentially compromised.


    Judas had been cruel with her in the manse. The exec hadn''t even tried to reassure her, or calm her down, or tell her the situation; instead, she had ordered EJ to pick up a gun and kill someone. While Esper James was used to her superior''s abuse of authority, this was different: her tone had been disdainful, almost contemptible, as if directing a child how to perform a simple, mindless task. Without hesitation she had demanded EJ do as she was told, and threatened her - with physical violence, no less - if she did not comply immediately.


    Was that what awaited the secretary? To, even in a relationship as physical and intimate as to share a bed and be wooed by love, be abused? To be made a slave even moreso than she already was, and to acquiesce or suffer the severity of Judas''s whims?


    That wasn''t a love she wanted to find herself within. Partners must have equal footing, or at least as close as is possible, otherwise there is no option other than for one to use the other. Even inadvertently it can arise, the subtle implication of obligation for the less-powerful lover to dote upon and adhere to the more-powerful one. EJ had no intention of making herself a plaything twice over.


    Soft footfalls turned to muffled crunching as she snapped from her daydream trance, looking around to remember where she was: one of the many industrial parks in the city, dotted haphazardly over the landscape as to avoid interacting with the other subordinates of Tsang. Each one was owned by it''s own company, but they were still droplets in the rainstorm of Vitus''s dead-run economic machine.


    Broken glass from beer bottles and varied refuse covered by snow made the trek somewhat louder than it had been initially, and for a second the blonde ghoulette was afraid someone would hear her. That would be a laugh; the only person who would even be around this place at this time of night was the very one she was headed here to finish off. Est wouldn''t be in good enough shape to ambush her.


    The trail of faux-blood led down a side alley and in through a busted door, the latter of which was slightly ajar as if someone tried to close it in haste. One hand went to the gun and drew it while the other slowly pushed the door wide, ghoulish eyes searching in the darkness for prey. What she found was a collection of rusted-out machinery and dilapidated supports and decor: what once had been a thriving factory perhaps only a few years ago was now a skeletal remains of steel and dust. The blood led further in, what had begun as a flow now dwindling down to a trickle. Even if EJ didn''t have such excellent night vision, the foul, rotten scent of nutrio-fluid would have led her like a bloodhound.


    Past crumbling support beams and faded signage she went, anxiety starting to mount. Thoughts poured in once more, the silence and still of the factory only fostering her worries. What if Est DID attack her? What if EJ, god forbid, got killed - permanently? Would Judas ever know? Would Judas even care? Or was she just another pawn to be toyed with?


    The sound of light, rasping breaths up ahead snapped her out of it. With a trembling hand she readied the gun, biting her lower lip so the pain might steel her mind. Just behind a thin wooden door that read ''SITE MANAGER'' in faded text sat her target, or so she presumed. It was now or never.


    She took a deep, silent breath and shoulder-checked the door, raising her weapon shakily.


    "S-STOP WHERE YOU ARE!"


    -


    Across town, Judas had finally regained her natural appearance: the sleek black locks like ebon curtains, the lightly browned skin that spoke of Mediterranean or South Asian climes, and the perfect smile which was perpetually frowning. The police had been prompt and had already left - she reported a break-in and notified them to be on the lookout for any wayward vagrants dressed in black with white hair. She hadn''t mentioned The New Way, or any particular details of her attacker; this brush with the PD was more a formality than a necessity. They knew which way the wind blew in Vitus, and they also knew that Tsang''s higher-ups didn''t need public assistance to solve their problems.


    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    A handful of maids had been dispatched to clean the mess, five in total: one on each floor, sweeping and mopping and throwing out destroyed furnishings, while the fifth and final one prepared a lavish midnight snack for the corporate overlord. Being one of the most important women in the city had its perks, and having your every need catered to using company money was only one of them.


    She sat in her en suite bathroom with a cigar and a glass of wine, letting her blood seep into the water of a scalding-hot jacuzzi. The damn thing hurt like hell, and she knew her knee was fucked - it would be a delicate operation to fix, and it would be days before it would heal. She may even need to start using a cane if the bullet had left enough shrapnel behind; that would be a nuisance, but canes were always a bit fashionable for those of power and status. It could be worse: she could have been killed, or EJ could have been killed, or any number of other things. But with one shot to take and all the openings in the world to take it, why had her assailant chosen to merely cripple her?


    To send a message? No, that would be stupid; Judas knew damn well she was a wanted woman and that there were hundreds if not thousands or more who would kill her if they could, if only to steal her position at Tsang. There was no need to remind her that she could bleed.


    To prevent her from pursuing? If that was the case, why not just kill her outright? You can''t pursue anyone when you''re bloody well dead, truly dead in her case, and the opportunity had certainly been presented. So what use was there in deterring her from following if an even better option had been presented? No, that wasn''t it...


    And then a thought struck her. What was the variable tonight? What had been different this evening over all other evenings where she had been attacked? What was the cog in the machine, the twist in the fable, the surprise inside the chocolate egg?


    Esper James. Her secretary. She had shown up right as the two women had battled, spoiling the brawl and providing the very opportunity which Judas''s assailant had used to cripple her.


    Why would EJ throw the assassin off? EJ was cute, sure, but a trained killer didn''t give a shit about who they murdered, or why, or in front off whom. Writing it off as stage fright was similarly preposterous, if only for the sole reason that one additional witness should have simply meant one additional bullet to leave the chamber of her handgun. If anything, both of them should have died. Which left one more option, an option that lingered like a burning coal within Judas''s furnace of a brain, still smouldering even as it lay.


    That bitch knew EJ. She recognized the secretary, at the very least, and didn''t want to kill someone who was close to her. There had been a moment of recognition within the hired gun''s eyes when Judas''s little lost puppy entered the room initially, and while the executive had played it off at the time as the look of a woman who had been caught in the act, she was now doubtful.


    Rage boiled within Judas''s chest with all the fury of a Hell-bound sinner, her teeth grit from pain and wounded pride. There was a crash as her right hand crushed the wine glass it had once held, glass shards digging deep into her flesh, more blood dribbling down into the jacuzzi to truly taint it red. Her maid gasped, taking a step to rush away, but Judas raised her left palm to bid her heel. Slowly but steadily the glass shards were rejected, flesh re-knitting before the pair''s very eyes, dropping out and onto the floor which the vampiress held her hand above. Soon the injury was naught but a memory.


    "Bring me more wine, please; I need to... relax after a long and harrowing night. And make it snappy, or I''ll have a word with your supervisor about your performance. Got it?"


    The fifth maid nodded shakily, rushing away and leaving the snack - steak tartare, garnished with crushed garlic cloves and a sprinkle of white pepper and salt - on the side of the jacuzzi. Judas sighed as some of her rage left her, her momentary lapse of control over in an instant. It felt good to order someone around; felt natural. And more than that? It felt good to be in charge.


    -


    EJ bashed the door open, making her wince hard from the impact of shoulder-on-wood, her eyes instantly locking upon the figure which was curled up across from her. Esthrielle sat huddled in the only chair in the office, a dusty and moth-bitten easy chair behind a splintery and well-used desk. She leaked blue fluid from her mangled body, but only in small quantities now - most of it was scabbed up, though there was a paleness to the cyborg''s body that couldn''t be denied.


    One robotic eye opened, staring at Esper James in the stillness that ensued, the weight of every action as palpable as a heartbeat. Slowly, slowly, Est''s lips split into a Cheshire grin. She was missing a few of those solid-steel fangs, likely ripped free during her clash.


    "Heyyyyyy, blondie... Been a bit, hasn''t it? I-Isn''t it weird that we meet up again, like this of all things?"


    Esthrielle tried to laugh, but it was hoarse and digitized; blue fluid seeped out from between her teeth. EJ took a step forwards, aiming her gun emphatically, trying to make her opposite realize the gravity of the situation. It didn''t seem to work.


    "Sh-Shut... Shut the fuck up, Est! Shut up! What the fuck is wrong with you?! You... You broke into Judas''s house, you break all her shit, you nearly kill her, you... You shoot her...You nearly fucking shoot me too, what the fuck?! Are you insane? No, of course you''re insane, you''re a fucking robot, after all, I..."


    EJ''s rambling trailed off after a few seconds as Esthrielle simply stared and smiled, the light in her eye flickering badly. Esper James swallowed hard, cutting herself off and shaking her head. The gun was leveled towards Est''s forehead, right towards where the blonde assumed her ''brain'' equivalent would be.


    "...look, EJ... What can I f-fuckin'' say? I was told to kill her, by my boss, just like... Heh. Just like you were told by your boss to kill me, right?" Est works her spit up into a coagulated loogie, spitting it onto the floor. It was mostly nutrio-fluid.


    "But I... I didn''t. I did the next best thing. I''ve... I''ve never killed anyone before, you know - not anyone that mattered, I guess. I''m... not a good person, I suppose. I-I just follow orders, and those orders are to do bad stuff, and I do it because it makes me feel like I-" She stopped to hock up another wad of phlegm and faux-blood, her eye LED flickering more intensely for a moment.


    "-makes me feel like I belong. Like someone cares about me. If I do what I''m told then I get praised; if the bad guy is defeated, I''m a hero. Back home, back in Italy, they... Fuck. They gave me the only thing I never really had. They made me feel like I had someone looking out for me... like I mattered. And now look at me."


    Esthrielle broke into more coarse, mechanical laughter, the sound somewhere between a bark and a scream. EJ bit her lower lip again, brow furrowing; she re-adjusted her grip on the pistol, eyes darting to the name along the barrel for a moment. Judas.


    "I''m a fuckin'' wreck. I should get scrapped and recycled. So much for my time in the sun, r-right? Haha... ha... shit... Th-This really hurts, actually. I guess I''m... dying, huh? I can feel my vital systems starting to fail... Not enough goo still in my body to make me run. But I guess I went out like a hero... I went out doing what they told me to. Making them proud. Following order-"


    EJ pulled the trigger - a shot whizzed past Est''s head and thudded into the drywall behind her, leaving a half-dollar sized hole. Est stopped talking, but EJ quickly filled the void, tears of frustration and confused anger welling at her ducts.


    "Shut the fuck up! Shut up, shut up, shut up! S-Stop talking about... About ''just following orders'', about ''doing what they told you'', about all that shit! Don''t you f-fucking see what''s become of you?! You''re not even a p-person anymore! You''re a god damn toaster playing dress-up and killing people by the dozens because some f-fucking BUREAUCRAT across the ocean thinks you should! You''re m-making people scared and miserable and sad and all because it makes you feel good? To do what some sadist tells you to?!"


    Silence permeates the room, cloaking it in stillness. For a few seconds the only movement is the light trail of smoke curling up from the barrel of EJ''s gun. Then, Est''s head slumps down to her chest, her breathing growing strained.


    "...EJ, I''m... I''m sorry. I''m sorry for the b-both of us, I guess. We''re both... in the same boat, in a way. I''m just following orders... You''re just following orders. It''s easy to... forget who we are. What we''re doing. I-I''m told to dehumanize you, you''re told to dehumanize me, and somehow we all just... forget that it''s another person on the other end, don''t we?"


    Est shuts her eye again, focusing on breathing. Silence once more dominates the space between the two, but is broken after a few agonizing seconds.


    "...kill me, then. End it. If you''re right, i-if all I''ve done is... for naught, if I''m guilty, then kill me. Do what you''re here to do. I can''t make up for the crimes I''ve committed, even if you let me live... I''ll never be able to bring any of those people back. I''ll never be able to rebuild the houses, or ease the pain, or anything like that."


    A deep, pained breath wracks the cyborg.


    "Pull the trigger."


    -


    From outside the factory, a gunshot can be heard, muffled though it is. And then... nothing. The moon breaks through the smog for only a moment to shine upon the already-frozen indigo ice left by some nameless pawn''s bleeding body, and then is shrouded once more in pollutant fumes.


    Inside the factory, a trembling woman wonders if she made the right choice.

 Act Two (Ch. 18) - Absolution; or, Being Pushed Too Far

    The air smelled of acrid gunsmoke as the second shot rang out, the one meant for a dying cyborg. A heavy steel barrel dropped towards the floor, and after a momentary loosening of fingers, the weapon fell wholesale with a thud. Dust rose from where it lay, rising into the air to be caught in a brief shaft of moonlight. A woman, compromised and complicated by emotion, fell to her knees to meet it.


    Her face found her hands in a moment, tears coming in a flood - lukewarm at best, the mark of a body not quite living, not quite breathing. Blonde hair shrouds her as her expression contorts in myriad ways, eyes shut tight, lips breaking into an open-mouthed grimace as she sobs. It is the loudest sound in the room, one which is only accompanied by the gentle whir of slowing machinery.


    There is catharsis found in such tears, but even their presence feels traitorous. Emotions have swelled to a surge within the chest of the ghoul, overflowing into this sudden outburst, her pale fingers digging into the flesh of her face nearly to the point of damaging it. Everything hurts.


    Behind the wooden desk sits a half-working half-human, the wall behind her decorated with a second bullet hole. This one is an inch or so from her head, punched straight and true by flying lead, the cheap material of the wall offering no resistance. However, death has not yet found either of them - for better or for worse. Briefly the cyborg considers that, perhaps, oblivion would have been sweeter than the Hell they had made for themselves.


    Oh well.


    The tension in the room has melted away with the falling of the handgun, and now the pair of women are left with the consequences of their action (or lack thereof). An assassin has been let slip... and a tyrant is wounded, but far from dead. Repercussion will be severe, surely, and reprimand is the least of their worries.


    Minutes pass, feelings ebb and flow, and finally EJ stops crying. She lets her hands fall away, slowly turning her head upwards to look at Esthrielle; the cyborg is staring at her with her remaining usable eye, the color flickering without a sound.


    They both let out a huff.


    "So... What now?"


    EJ lets her question hang, and Est takes a few seconds to consider it before responding. When she does her voice modulator is finnicky and failing, giving her a distinct electronic tone.


    "Dunno. I thought you were going to kill me, honestly, so... I think now I wait to get picked up and repaired, while you go home and say you shot me. Right? Go back to your... girlfriend, or whatever? To the-"


    EJ scowls, pushing herself to an unsteady stand. The gun is taken as she stands, slipped back into one of the deep pockets of her fluffy coat. Through thin fangs comes a sneer, the wall of ivory splitting for a moment so Esper James can spit onto the ground with disdain. How can Esthrielle be so casual about this?


    "No. I''m going back to my apartment. I''m not... not going back there, not tonight. Not for a while, probably. She owes me some fucking answers, and while I don''t know if I''ll ever get them, I''m going to god damn ask for them either way. As for you - I let you live, right? So... So you owe me."


    Est''s eyebrows raise, and she opens her mouth to protest, suddenly defensive. "Hold on, that''s not-"


    "Shut the fuck up. That''s h-how this works. I''m the one with the gun and the power and god damnit that''s how it works for everyone else, it seems, so it''ll work for me too. I let you live, and you owe me something for it. I want you to, uh..."


    Her lips trembled gently as she tried to think of how to word the demand, of what to actually say. She barely dared believe there was a chance Est would even listen, but that was on the other woman, not on the secretary.


    "I want you to promise me that you''ll stop all... this. That you''ll at least try. It''s like you said, right? We''re both just, just pawns, pieces on a game board taking orders from someone else. I take mine from a vampire. You take yours from a zealot. But if either of us are able to be a little less shitty, then we should try to, I think... No. I know we should. I''m not like you - I''m not out in the East killing people or blowing shit up or anything - but I''ve always been told to hate you like you hate me. Who fucking wins from that? Not us! No one wins, alright?!"


    Est is silent as EJ monologues, and as she finishes, the Italian nods slowly. Her silicone lips strain to form a smile, but she does, those metal spikes gleaming in what dull light her own body''s LEDs produce.


    "Fine. I''ll try. But sometimes my hands are tied, and there''s only so much I can-"


    EJ casts her another withering glare, and Est is cowed. The latter woman nods again.


    "I''ll try."


    -


    Not much had been left to say, and EJ made a hasty exit. She ran from the factory as soon as she made it out the front door, ignoring the whipping winds and winter snow, running until she found a dejected bus stop on the side of the road to shelter in. A single streetlight illuminated her temporary shelter, but she was finally alone, and that was enough for her.


    The adrenaline of the confrontation had all but run it''s course, and another bout of tears threatened to show it''s face. For a moment she had felt so brave, so headstrong, even if she knew fear and doubt and worry were nagging behind the false facade; now that she was isolated and safe, however, that bravado drained like cold bathwater. Once again the scared little girl she knew she was showed her face, forcing her to regress to a vulnerable, worried wreck.


    How was she going to get home? How was she going to look Judas in the eye tomorrow? Had she done the right thing, not killing Est while she had the chance? Would Judas somehow find out that she hadn''t actually killed Est, or-


    Nope, no, no, breathe, stop, relax. ''First things first,'' she thought, ''is getting myself a way home. Or somewhere, anywhere but back to Judas''s place.'' That was a given, considering the situation; things had already spiked into some kind of prickly, intense sort of thing between the two of them from their brief interaction after the fight. Going back now would only fan those flames.


    It took her a while before she found the strength to stand up and get moving again, the desire to remain complacent and let the world turn around her almost overwhelming. It all was too much for her: the violence, the drama, the uncertainty. She almost yearned for the simplicity of her life naught but a week ago, when everything seemed to straightforward, so easy. Even if she had felt so lonely and insecure, she had still felt like she knew what was going on, or where her life was headed. Now she wasn''t sure.


    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Upon further thought she decided she couldn''t head home. Not tonight, at least. Judas might be waiting there for her, or someone Judas had under her thumb, or even one of Est''s people there on behalf of the East to make her regret her earlier mercy. She needed somewhere to lay low for a bit. An idea struck.


    There was one person she could ask to stay with... if she could find them.


    -


    Walking in the snow was about as fun as pulling teeth, and by time the ghoulette found herself in the warmth and lights of downtown Vitus, she was shivering and chattering so badly she was afraid her teeth may snap upon one another. Even on this weekday night there were still people out in droves, ignoring the cold and wind and darkness and lateness so that they could hustle for what serotonin the nightlife could offer. Plenty of locations looked cozy and inviting, but EJ didn''t have any money or ID on her, so she could only hope and pray that she could smooth-talk her way into her intended target. No time for getting side-tracked.


    Her boot-clad feet thudded along iced sidewalk slabs as she approached The Jezebel Club, harsh techno and industrial thrumming even from out here. A line had formed and she found herself at the ass end of it, shivering in winter''s embrace, praying for speedy entry. Tick-tock, tick-tock. Seconds became hours as the sluggish procession commenced, until finally she was face to face with the bouncer - his glass eye glared at her like a judge would a heinous felon, judging her every sin. Or, so she felt, at least.


    He looked her up and down, narrowing his eyes and furrowing his brow as he seemed to notice the distinct lack of garments save for the coat and boots - but same as before he nodded her in, no words shared between the two. Salvation was found once more in the blood-reeking innards of the nightclub, its heat and humidity enveloping her in a welcome blanket. She declined making use of the coatroom.


    Bodies moved and swayed like kelp in sanguine seas upon the dancefloor, slamming beats and flashing lights dousing the area in decadence. It both drained and invigorated her, the thought of blood sending memories of her date with Judas crashing back to the fore of her mind; she shook them away, proceeding to the bar, eyes scouting for a familiar face. Said familiar face found her first, a drink quickly following it.


    "Heyyyyy, little lamb! You''re here late tonight, huh? And without pants? It''s, what, negative ten out there? Bold choice."


    Roth''s velveteen husk of a voice was just the ticket EJ needed. His face was alight with an uncharacteristic smile, bright and wide, fangs and all on display. The barkeep''s thick dreads were in mild disarray and his breath absolutely dripped with booze and crimson drink, likely the same sort that he had placed before her - an ax-murder, extra pepper, just waiting to be consumed. EJ eyed it warily. Her last drink here hadn''t been so succulent.


    "Hey, Roth... I''m, uh... I''m fine. Just a bit chilly is all. I''ll warm up on the floor, I''m sure. Hey, uh, speaking of..." She swallowed hard, emerald eyes flicking out towards the crush of flesh and leather and strobes. "Is Purity here tonight? I really need to talk to her. S''important."


    Roth''s smile faded quickly, face becoming a thinly-veiled mask of concern. He nodded, pointing towards the far end of the club, where the lights didn''t quite reach. Vaguely, a hint of bubblegum pink could be caught if one squinted.


    "You good, EJ? You look like someone''s after you. You know, we don''t take that shit lightly here; I know we''ve got a sort of edgy aesthetic going on, but stuff like that isn''t gonna fly. If there''s someone you want me to look out for, you let me know."


    Roth pushed the drink towards her insistently. EJ relented, taking it in hands - the concoction and glass warm from the heater - and shook her head.


    "No, no... Nothing like that. I just need to see if I can chill at her place for the night. Mine''s got, uh... Water issues. Can''t sleep there overnight. They''re doing repairs and shit. Super loud. You know how it is, haha."


    That was not convincing, but it was Roth''s turn to back down. He nodded, putting on a fake grin and nodding with eyes shut.


    "Yyyyyyep. Been there, I promise. Stuff in this city just can''t help but break when we need it most, can it? Well, go get her - and don''t worry about that drink, ok? It''s on me tonight. We like seeing girls like you here; both for the business and because we like you. Don''t you dare think otherwise."


    That brought a smile, albeit a weak one, to EJ''s face. Roth''s concern warmed her more than the drink could hope to, and she left with the smile still clinging to her face. The dancefloor loomed before the diminutive ghoul, an inviting icon of hedonism and mindless enjoyment, but it would have to wait for another time. Right now, she needed Purity.


    About ten feet away from where she had seen that splash of pink, a hand touched EJ''s shoulder to get her attention. She spun, not sure what to expect, and found herself face-to-face with a grinning drunkard. His long hair, black and oily and wet from sweat, curtained his face on either side; he''d be handsome if he didn''t have a dense aura of alcohol stink surrounding him.


    "H-Heya, cutie! You look lonely, walking by without someone t-to hold onto you; mind if I join you, haha? Maybe buy you a drink?"


    He attempted a wink, but was so far gone it came out as an awkward blink. Normally, EJ would have been intimidated by this stranger''s attention - he stood a foot taller than her at least, and while he was greasy and sweaty and drunk, he was also lean and looming over her like a vulture looking for prey. A week ago she would have been scared and tried to slip away into the crowd, or back to Roth, or maybe she would have just left; tonight, though? She was way too tired and strung-out to be timid. She was angry. Furious, in fact. Her right hand went to the handgrip of her pistol, still inside her coat pocket.


    "No, thanks. I''m meeting a friend. Bye."


    As she moved to sidestep him, his hand on her shoulder became a grip, and she staggered back to avoid falling. His smile had become upturned and more sweat started to dribble down his forehead, though whether it was from dancing, drinking, or denial was yet to be seen.


    "Oh, no no no! You - you women always say that, you know? That you''re ''meeting a friend'', or ''my boyfriend is right over there'', or something like that? I, uh... I''m sick of it, ok? You''re obviously here alone, so am I, let''s g-go get a drink. What''s the worst that could happen? We hang out and get to know eachother? You know, I''m a pretty cool guy once you get to-"


    Another hand, thinner and more feminine, took up residence on EJ''s other shoulder. She nearly lashed out at this newcomer until their voice pierced the pumping bass and screaming vocals, it''s owner moving her hand up to gently caress EJ''s neck.


    "Hey, buddy, this one''s mine. Get your own. Pet store''s down the street."


    Purity. Right on time, or somewhat resembling it. As welcome as her intrusion was, it irked Esper James even further in some small way - that she was being ''saved'', that she wasn''t allowed to deal with her own problems even when she tried to. The ghoulette pulled away from the pair as the man was distracted, lifting the gun in her pocket just enough that the handle and hammer were visible. The stranger paled, and Puri took a step back, worry and a hint of fear painting her angelic face.


    "Alright, alright, fuck off, both of you! I don''t need this tonight! Don''t touch me, don''t fucking talk to me, d-d-don''t even look at me, ok?! I''m sick and fucking tired of people coming up to me and treating me like meat! Like an object! I don''t want to drink with you or be your friend or fuck you or whatever you want from me, dude - and Purity? Thanks for butting in, but I''d like to handle this myself for god-damned once!"


    The man was stunned, but upon processing that EJ A) had a gun, and B) was pissed off at him, he babbled some incomprehensible apology and darted off towards the bathrooms. Purity put her hands up, brow furrowed, her playful demeanor shattered by EJ''s seriousness. In the flash and flare of nightclub showlights her catsuit reflected the hints of red and white and such, an inky wetlook canvas.


    EJ''s rage was sabotaged by actually looking at Purity, seeing what she was wearing: the sleek curves that hugged her like a second skin, the mirror polish that she could see her own reflection in, the heels that ended either foot to give her a few extra inches of height. Esper James dropped the gun to fall back into her pocket once again, struggling to find words as her fury left as quickly as it had come.


    "Purity - Puri, I... Shit, I''m sorry, it''s just been a long night, and I fucking..."


    "It''s ok, EJ. Really, I get it. Roth texted me, saying you were looking for me, and right as I went to head to the bar I saw you getting chatted up so I figured... Yeah. Sorry. Let''s sit down and talk, ok? You seem like you could use the company... And maybe I can help fix your makeup? You look like you''ve been crying."


    Oh, Purity. You don''t know the half of it, do you?

 Act Two (Ch. 20) - The Only Place Is Here; or, The Only Time Is Now

    The two sat down far from the lights of the dancefloor and the thrum of the music, tucked away into a dark corner of the club where solace could be found. Here the people stayed away, straying from the pair''s makeshift grotto; here, the flash of strobes couldn''t catch on Purity''s outfit or EJ''s tears. Here they could breathe, finally, the weight of everything in the world seeming to come crashing down upon the secretary. Esper James wasn''t able to form words before Purity had entangled her arms around the ghoul, pulling her close, bringing on a fresh wave of emotion.


    It felt good to cry sometimes.


    Finally it all spilled forth in a rush, unfiltered, sparing no detail save for those she rushed past or misremembered: her date with Judas, the night they spent together, the bump in the night, Judas''s twisted body, the way she had spoken to her... And of course, the tense confrontation with Esthrielle and all that it had entailed. Oh, God, it made her whole body feel heavy. Purity''s muted warmth through her tight black outer layer only helped EJ sink deeper into the embrace, shutting her eyes and resting her head where she could.


    For her part, Purity listened admirably. She never interrupted, never objected, and never pulled away; she was by EJ''s side for the extent of her venting, with one arm around the smaller girl''s back and the other one behind her neck, hand playing with her hair. It was the best Puri could do, honestly; what was she supposed to say? ''I''m sorry your boss turned into a literal monster and sent you to kill someone''?


    There is silence in the booth when EJ finishes. They sit together in that silence, bask in it, one body cool and the other warm; Esper James drinks up the scent of Purity''s perfume and sweat, and Purity takes a moment of her own to think about the situation as a whole. It had to be a coincidence, right?


    She thought back to that spike-thing her Eastern contact had given her, still sitting cool and rigid, tucked away between her breasts.


    "EJ... I mean... That sounds awful, boo. I can''t imagine what it must be like to go through that. I... Phew. You said you''re looking for somewhere to stay for a while, yeah? My place is always open to you. No strings attached. We''re friends, pretty, uh, close friends... I wouldn''t want to leave you out in the cold."


    Pun not intended. EJ nods wordlessly against Purity''s chest, taking a deep breath and releasing it as a sigh. Everything felt like it was crashing down around her; her life hadn''t been amazing before, but there was stability, tenuous as it was. She had a job, had a little corner of safety... She still had a job, technically, but who was to say if it would continue on that way forever?


    Wasn''t this what she wanted? Something to break the monotony? Some kind of excitement to creep past those endless years of stability, of safety, of tedium? She wasn''t so sure anymore. She wasn''t sure of very much at this point.


    Purity pulls her deeper into their embrace and sighs, closing her own eyes and resting her head on EJ''s. Together they sit for minute after minute, no words passing their lips, simply sharing one another''s company and trying to find some way to move forwards. A half hour had passed when finally Esper James looks up, face obscured up to the eyes by Purity''s generous bust. She pulled her head away, waiting until Puri was looking at her before she spoke.


    "...let''s go, if we could. Please. I don''t really think I can get myself to dance tonight, and drinking doesn''t sound... doesn''t sound good. Not in public, at least. Maybe we could have something at your place...?"


    Purity smiles, sad and sweet. She nods, waiting for EJ to get off of her lap before the pair of them stand and make their way to the door. Roth gives the both of them a wave as they head out, but only Puri has the state of mind to wave back; EJ''s barely paying attention.


    The two of them hail a cab; Purity insists on paying. The driver''s eyes are on them both from the beginning of the drive till they park, intent unclear, but they make it to a tall apartment building on the nicer part of town without issue - Purity''s place. EJ recognized it vaguely from when she had last visited, but the name escaped her; not that it mattered, though. Payment was swiftly made and the pair exited, arm in arm, no one around on the cold city streets to watch them anymore. Peace again, at last.


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    -


    A few flights of stairs and a pair of keys snaked from inside Purity''s outfit later and the two women were inside. EJ gravitated towards the couch at first, but a heavy yawn made Purity insist that she head to bed, with the assurance that Puri would join her after a moment, and that there would be ''no funny business''. Though she wouldn''t admit it, that made the wayward ghoul smile a bit; Purity and ''funny business'' seemed as intertwined as leaves on a tree, but she wasn''t sure her hostess would find it as funny. Regardless she does as told, waiting until Purity''s gone to remove her coat and boots -


    - and she''s immediately reminded that those were the only things keeping her from bareness. Ugh. That was going to be hard to explain, huh? She slinks out of the borrowed garments so she might rush to borrow more: Purity''s dresser is the target of a brazen panty-raid, the first drawer thrown wide...


    Nope. Those were definitely not panties. EJ blushed like a nun in confession, quickly shutting the drawer and going to the subsequent one. Ahh, jackpot: all the underwear she could hope for. Obviously using one of Puri''s bras would be like using a haystack to hide a needle, so she resolved to go topless; however, her panties fit well enough that she would be comfy wearing them to bed. A little black number with lace and a bow was slipped into without second thought, regaining some of the second-living''s meager modesty.


    Good timing, too - Purity opened the door only moments after the drawer had been shut once again, leaving EJ standing in a pile of Judas''s clothes and clad only in what could conceal her undercarriage. Puri snickers when she sees this but doesn''t comment; instead, she gestures with her head towards what she held in her hands: a pair of drinks. Wine, from the looks of it, something white and bubbly.


    "Hey, you. I poured some wine for us to share. Front door''s locked, windows are shut, blinds are pulled, lights are off... No chances of anyone weird trying to come get you in the night, ok? We can just have some wine, snuggle, and then hit the hay. You definitely seem like the type of girl who likes a good snuggle, right?"


    Purity winks, smile spreading wide; EJ''s own follows suit, her red-flecked eyes rolling in mock annoyance. There was no need to confirm anything or agree to the wine. Esper James slipped into bed while her hostess set the wine glasses on the nightstand, that little spike object snuck into the drawer when the blonde wasn''t looking. Puri deigned not to undress, instead climbing in beside her guest with her outfit still fully zipped. It was smooth enough that it didn''t quite catch on the similarly soft sheets, and soon the pair of them were wrapped up within one another''s arms.


    The wine went quickly, few words spoken to break up their sipping. EJ relished this feeling of security in Puri''s embrace, the silence and sweetness of this moment together something she had rarely had recently. The date with Judas had been phenomenal, exhilarating, enticing... but Puri offered something more than just excitement. She made EJ feel comfortable just being herself; made her feel like she could really just relax. There was no need for pretense or posturing. She could exist, and that was enough.


    The wine was gone before too long, and the glasses set aside once again on the nightstand. Puri''s black-clad hands sat upon the blonde''s body in a light, cozy way: the left on EJ''s hip, the right caressing her face. Esper James couldn''t help but lean into the caress.


    "Alright, cutie, time for bed. Don''t even worry about tomorrow, ok? I''ve got some friends who work for Tsang, I know their attendance policy; one day missed might get you a reaming, but it''s better than going back there and facing her, right? Stay here, with me... let your boss cool off a bit. Just one day together, then you can go back if you''d like. Though, well..."


    Purity smiled again, sweet to be bordering upon saccharine, her eyes half-lidded and locked on her ghoulette''s lips.


    "...you can stay here as long as you want, no questions asked. I know things are pretty fucked for you right now, but I''ve got no intentions of kicking you out while you''re in a rough spot. I''ll always be here to help. Got it?"


    EJ nodded, her own eyes roaming up to Purity''s own. There was a pang in the undead''s chest, something that made her stomach feel strange and caused EJ to bite her own lower lip without thinking. Puri really was lovely, wasn''t she? She was nice, and cool, and easy to be around, and a million other things that EJ didn''t quite know how to say. It felt good to have her attention like this.


    "Got it."


    Puri''s eyes twinkled, slowly shutting as she leaned in for a kiss; EJ returned it wholeheartedly. They sat like that for a few minutes, lips locked, eyes shut; Puri''s hand left EJ''s hip to click off the lamp on her nightstand, plunging the room into darkness save for the few shafts of moonlight that snuck through the blinds. Their kiss broke eventually, but the pair stayed close, bodies intertwined and breaths shared.


    EJ almost wished she didn''t need to sleep, if only so she could stay in this moment indefinitely.

 Act Two (Ch. 21) - A Brief Respite; or, A Day In The Sun

    In her dreams, EJ soared; freed from the bounds of earth she flew, eyes bright and shining, long blonde hair gently waving in her wake. Stars glistened in an endless cosmos around her, and comets zoomed by both near and far to streak glowing lines through the dark. She felt as though she could go anywhere, do anything; the planets which lingered betwixt those other celestial bodies were ripe to explore, and hers was an endless well of ambition and optimism. This star-world, this galaxy, was hers to enjoy. It felt good. It felt right.


    Then, something caught her eye. Slowly, slowly, something small and shiny was traveling thru the aether towards her, whirling as it went. No bigger than a pea, it was moving only as fast as a brisk walk, and she could easily avoid it... And yet, watching it, it mesmerized her. Something about it was fascinating to her, in such a way as to be incomparable. What was it? Where had it come from? The offshoot of a star or comet, perhaps, or some composite formed from that ancient schism which had formed the universe? The remnants of a spaceship, or her crew? A gift from some higher being that the ghoulette was unable to comprehend?


    But as the mote of metallic matter drew closer, closer, closer, her wonder grew to obsession. She felt frozen in place now as the object gently tumbled ever onwards, on a direct collision course for her body. She wouldn''t mind it; she was dead already, after all. Nothing could harm her, and if it was truly deadly, she would simply sidestep it. The power in her body, the power of choice and decision, was infinite - no minute spacebound object would be able to truly harm her. Right?


    Only too late did she realize what it was.


    The sliver of silver pierced her sternum and tore her apart, shredding her into confetti and red, splinters of her body shattered like wet glass. Her very essence was scattered across that beautiful, breathtaking cosmos she had envisioned, and as the lights faded and her vision dimmed, she felt a deep pit of fear and regret envelope her and consume that wonder and power she had earlier held. Her body was split into millions of millions of minute shards; every last one was thrown about the cosmos with wild abandon, no rhyme or reason to it. It was a permanent end, one where she had been strewn throughout the infinite sea of light and stars, where her essence was present in all places but wherein she herself was absent. Cathartic, but terrifying. Horrible, but providing closure.


    -


    She awoke with a start. Purity''s arms were still wrapped around her torso, twin vines of shiny black which concealed warm, soft flesh, keeping her close like a creeper vine. The bubblegum-haired club girl snoozed gently into EJ''s ear, her light breaths smelling in equal parts booze and candy. She always managed to smell so good... Maybe she knew that ghouls had a heightened sense of it? She was a bit of a chaser, after all...


    Esper James shook the thoughts away, snuggling back in to enjoy the sleeping embrace she was gifted with. Purity was everything she was not: tall, confident, elegant, sexual, comforting, alive... whereas Esper James was a timid, dead waif; a drifter on the tides of life and death.


    No. She scowled softly in the dark of the bedroom, looking more to herself than anyone else. EJ may be dead, and she may have been a frightful, quailing little lass in the past, but... fuck it. She was done with that. Done with that life. At the very least she would try to be, try to be more than she had been in the past - being pushed around, being abused, being toyed with like some kind of porcelain doll, it had all worn away at her. Unlife had been hard enough without the constant grinding of her soul against the pavement by practically everyone around her.


    Her teeth grit, brow set, and eyes shut. Now wasn''t the time to be angry. She was in bed with a beautiful woman who loved(?) her and who wanted the best for her. Judas had been enticing, but that was as much Stockholm syndrome as it was genuine attraction - finally receiving positive attention and adoration from her boss after being beaten down so savagely year after year was a toxin, a sweet poison that intoxicated her into thinking that they had been more than they were. Judas had been a manipulator even then, even during their date; trying to lull her into some sense of security, of safety. Fuck that.


    Esper James snuggled up closer to Purity, resting her face on the other woman''s chest and taking a deep breath. Living flesh, perfume, and the subtle scent of her suit filled EJ''s mind; below them, the rest of the room''s aromas lingered. Then, of course, there was the smell of sleep, that inescapable scent that the resting forms of the living gave off - hard to describe, but anyone who had once known life could place it if they caught it. It was peaceful. Cozy, even.


    Purity''s arms squeezed tighter, pressing their bodies flush upon one another. Esper James sighed in return, letting the darkness of the bedroom wander into her mind as her flesh tingled with the sensation of being held, reveling in this peace and quiet, knowing that she wouldn''t get it much longer... There was no way Judas would allow her to simply slip away into the ether, and she was employed by Tsang. There would be hell to pay if she didn''t show up to work today, and if she didn''t crop up tomorrow? Well, let''s just say hell would be preferable.


    Unbeknownst to her, Puri''s eyes cracked for just a moment - looking down at that tender blonde head, wondering what she was thinking, what she was dreaming. A latex-lined hand gave EJ a squeeze before its owner''s eyes shut up tight. Tomorrow was a new day... A day without whatever had been troubling her poor little ghoul.


    -


    The sun came in like spotlights from heaven, caught by Purity''s curtains but still far brighter than the ghoulette was used to. She stretched as she awoke for the second time that morning, feeling more refreshed and comfortable than she had after her dream - looking over and seeing Purity slowly rouse from sleep bolstered these feelings, imbuing her with a sense of security, of normalcy. There was a sort of joy in this mundane awakening, one that tingled at the chest. EJ reached over to caress the other woman''s cheek, lips spreading in as sweet a smile as such a fanged mouth can make.


    Purity returned the favor as she shook herself awake: her sleek black palm went to EJ''s thigh, her lips split to reveal rows of perfect ivory, her eyes (still daubed with makeup; she had neglected to wipe any away, instead heading straight to bed) crinkled with mirth even as they opened. Her other hand came up to take EJ by the back of the head and pull her back down, their lips meeting in a soft, passionate kiss; Esper James was past the point with Puri where it surprised her or made her nervous, and Purity wasn''t trying to rile her up. Yet, anyways. They became entangled within one another''s arms within moments, a shared kiss broken only for neither to truly pull away, holding their respective partner close.


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    Finally Puri broke the embrace, pushing EJ back to a sitting position before rising to join her. Her legs swung round beneath the covers and heels touched the carpet with a soft ''whump''; she raised herself to stand, full body revealed within the dim room. Esper James couldn''t help but stare, at least a bit - she had Purity all to herself, didn''t she? Least she could do was savor it.


    "Alright... good morning, sleepyhead. Sleep well? Have good dreams?"


    Puri laughed like tinkling glass or ringing bells, catching the ghoul''s heart in a feverish grip. EJ nodded after a moment more to stare, swallowing hard as she rushed to respond.


    "Y-Yeah. I slept like a rock, haha... Thanks, y''know, for letting me stay here. I promise I''ll get in your hair as soon as I can, I just... fuck. It''s been really rough, ok? I know I spilled my guts last night, which fucking sucked I''m sure, but-"


    "Hush, shhh, baby, it''s ok. It''s ok. You don''t need to feel bad about what other people put you through, ok? Or, like, you don''t need to feel like it''s your fault. Your boss... Judas, right? She doesn''t respect you. Don''t feel like she owns you, or like what she does to you is because you somehow deserve it, alright?"


    I''m all you need, anyways, is what Purity wished she could say. She wished she could say plenty more, in fact - words of sweetness and comfort but also just possessive enough that she held back. Remembering that earlier gift, the collar, she had made those sorts of intentions clear - however, in the face of Judas''s treatment of the poor secretary, to say it would be in bad taste to bring it up would be an understatement.


    Purity stretched, arms raised up, back arched in just such a way that the little light in the room caught on her bodysuit and gave her curvature a pleasant shine. Winding back down she turned to face EJ, extending a hand to help her up; it was taken without a word, and soon the two were standing mere inches from one another.


    "Theeeeeere we go. Why don''t you- or, why don''t we go shower, hmm? You look friggin'' adorable with bedhead, but I doubt either of us want to laze around all day in, well... Y''know. Plus I need an excuse to take this suit off - I was a little drunk last night and didn''t want to go through the hassle of taking it off, but now I think I should put on normal clothes."


    She laughs, again that chime of bells, and Esper James joins her. The ghoulette stands, and the sudden touch of room-temperature air against her almost fully bare body reminds her that she didn''t wear pajamas tonight - hell, she didn''t even have a bra on, just that stolen pair of panties. Her flesh prickled at the coolness of the room.


    "Sure! I guess we could save water that way, haha... Besides, I''m still a little shaky. Wouldn''t mind someone to hold me up...!"


    EJ''s smile was so sweet, so genuine - Purity nodded, grinning, but her eyes were just a touch more mischievous than her seductress smile might imply. Oh yes, EJ, honey, we''ll be ''saving water''...


    And so, in they went. The bathroom was even chillier than the bedroom, but Purity started the water and soon that was done away with; now came their undressing. EJ waited patiently, not wanting to be the first of the two to be rendered nude, while Puri''s hands lingered at the neckline of the suit. As she tugged down, beginning to free her damp, silken flesh, she eyed her little girl toy with a twinkle in her eye.


    "Hey, EJ, why don''t you help me with this? It''s a bit of a process to get in and out of, so I don''t wear it so often... but with a lovely assistant like you, I''m sure we can get it going a bit quicker, hmm~?"


    That was just what EJ wanted to hear. She nearly stumbles over herself to help the other woman free herself from her skin-tight prison, trembling hands against warm skin to help peel the dark black material off of her; it only took a few minutes, but Purity may have been making it linger just to tease her houseguest.


    Once she was bare she gave a gentle twirl, letting her assistant have a reward in the form of a lovely view - EJ silently appreciated it, hands still holding the discarded suit like a forgotten molt. Not a very sexy comparison, really. Her viewing session was interrupted by Purity slipping into the shower, hiding away once again; EJ was once more alone outside the shower. Or, so she thought.


    Now it was Purity''s turn to watch, a smug grin plastered above her jawline, her head snaked around the curtain to ogle the other girl. The secretary bit her lower lip as her thumbs sunk between the waistband of the borrowed undergarments, feeling her blood begin to pump faster by measures; her womanhood was revealed and the panties cast aside, their previous wearer simply looking back at Purity.


    "And don''t steal my panties again, got it~? I''ll get you a nightgown or a blanket or something to wear until we can buy you some real clothes, but those are mine, haha!"


    It was joking, sure, but EJ''s face still flushed crimson with a slow wash of shame; she stepped into the shower by Purity''s head, finding her welcome arms waiting behind the curtain to snatch her up as soon as she crossed the shower''s threshold.


    To gloss over details unsuitable for pleasant company, the pair''s shower did anything but save water - by time EJ was released from Purity''s grip she was almost as tired as when she awakened, but she was satisfied - not just physically, but emotionally, the reassurance of touch and play from the other woman soothing her in a way she couldn''t fully describe. Sex was well and good, but it was the knowing that Purity liked her that felt good; it was the intimacy of the act, the joining of two bodies into one, the unspoken push and pull of a strange and instinctual dance that massaged her heart and muscles simultaneously.


    In the end they were both left panting, wet with indoor rain, and smiling at one another - it only took a moment for Purity to wrap EJ back up in a big warm hug, nuzzling the crown of her lover''s head and giggling into it. EJ returned the favor and gave her a squeeze with both arms, bodies pressed together in the newly-humid bathroom.


    No words were shared as the pair dried off; none were needed. Eventually the pair strolled out of the room and out towards the bedroom once again, leaving their clothes where they lay in favor of finding new garments from Purity''s extensive wardrobe. The pink-haired hostess herself donned some classy brown chinos and a cozy black turtleneck - EJ was swaddled in a plain black hoodie with a pair of grey sweatpants with ''AIM HERE'' across the rear, both of which were a touch too big for her. Puri thought it was cute, at least, and that was good enough.


    Moving to the living room, EJ plopped down onto the couch like a sack of potatoes, still tired from their earlier ordeal but now letting her body rest. Purity went to the kitchen to order some takeout, eschewing leaving the apartment in favor of more time with her gal pal in hiding. On the TV, some dated anime was playing on a midday re-run marathon; Esper James settled in, eyes glazing over as the characters went through their motions, her focus running wild.


    She thought of her dream, of the silver bullet. She brought her hand down to her chest, fingers tracing her sternum, up and down and up again to try and find an entry wound... nothing. It had truly just been a dream, even if it felt so... real. Then, a thump came from Puri''s window - something tapping at it. She turned her head to see and felt her heart drop into her chest, a scream rising out of her with nearly volcanic force.


    There, at the window sill, sat a cat, with deep blue-black fur and eyes like topaz. When it hissed at her, it almost seemed to be smiling.


    She felt herself drawn back to her dreams, to her hallucinations, to her nightmares.

 Act Two (Ch. 22) - A Plot-Relevant Interlude: The Asset

    It was a new day, alright; one that required action.


    Judas Alighieri was up before the dawn; she had been awake all night, in fact. Flecks of silver-dust made her hair shimmer in the dim light of the waiting room, her fingers tap-tapping upon the wooden armrest of her chair, those crimson eyes drifting aimlessly about the decor. Recreations of famous artwork hung upon the walls in a lavish display: Saturn Devouring his Son, St. George Slaying the Dragon, the Witches'' Sabbath... A certain gloom clung to each of them, their subject matter incongruent but the feelings they evoked somewhat similar. She would have sneered at them if her face didn''t hurt so damn badly.


    At her knee, a young woman with pale, sickly skin and red-flecked eyes was picking bits of shrapnel free with a tweezers. Her previously-white outfit had been stained red from the ongoing surgery, and the paper mask she wore to hide her teeth was thick with the scent of stilled blood. Judas paid her next to no mind, save to awkwardly pet at her short black bob when she was being too rough; removing silver hurt, after all, and anesthetic didn''t really work on the second-living. She took a grip of the ebon locks as a particularly large piece was dragged against exposed bone, pulling a startled squeak from the attendant, but once it was removed so was Judas''s grip.


    That bitch. That awful little whore, the arrogant robotic one, the one that put her here... Judas already knew EJ didn''t kill her. No, she had no proof, of course, but sending the little blonde off to finish the job in and of itself was a ruse. Esper James Price-Wynnfield couldn''t kill someone if she tried, if her own life was on the line. Judas could threaten her with the worst torture imaginable and that quivering little flesh-jelly of a girl wouldn''t so much as lift a hand to strike out in self-preservation. No, she had sent EJ away because she didn''t want her to see what she had become: the twisted mass of knotted flesh and knit bone that was her combative state.


    Esper James had so much potential... Judas had done some digging on her after receiving that report from her sample-taker contact, some serious digging. Her findings were intriguing to say the least, what little she had found and was still finding. Usually, when someone dies, they''re meant to become a certain form of second-life - it''s got something to do with their DNA, and a bit to deal with the makeup of their brain, and a lot to do with the nervous system. The differences are subtle but present, and they can be used to accurately predict what someone would become once they were woken from the cold-wombs of a morgue. This was highly classified information, of course, but Judas was one of a select few allowed in on such secrets.


    However, Esper James had been different - a deviation to the process. Something had happened during the revival procedure that had shifted her outcome, turning her into something she wasn''t supposed to be. Everything lined up for her to become a vampire - everything from her personality to her physique to her fucking DNA makeup had been ripe for vampiric ascension, to birth her anew into one of the privileged few who unofficially ruled Vitus. She was prime, grade-A vampire material. And yet.


    Judas sighed.


    The nurse at her knee yelped as the door to the waiting room opened, a tall man in a black suit stepping into the room. His tie was blood-red and seemed to draw in the light around it to make it shine unnaturally; his skin was pallid and cool, but simultaneously smooth and well-kept. Both eyes were hidden behind blackout shades.


    "Miss Alighieri - Mr. Tsang will see you now."


    Up she stood, sucking air through her perfect teeth as the forceps became lodged within her slowly-closing flesh. The nurse''s eyes went wide but she said nothing, instead gathering herself up with a sheepish look towards the floor. She, too, stood to follow Judas into the room beyond.


    -


    The office was dark. It was always dark, however; there was never a time that the sun had known the interior''s shaded space, even though skylights sat in the ceiling to let the moon''s ivory light in. The room itself was expansive, with rather gaudy baroque wallpaper, a fireplace (almost unused entirely) against the far wall, and a single desk with a chair on either side sitting in the center of it all. Bookshelves lined the room like a second layer of walling, piled high with tomes ancient and new, their topics diverse; however, occultism seemed to be a common theme.


    A man sat in the larger chair, behind the desk, his hands folded. Judas could smell his cigar as she entered: sandalwood, caramel, whisky, and vanilla notes underlined the heady and intoxicating aroma of strong tobacco. Another cigar sat untouched on the desk, there for her to take, and as she sat she lifted it to her lips. With a snap of her fingers she prompted her nurse to scrounge through her medical bag for a lighter and pair of medical shears; the tip of the cigar was clipped and allowed to fall to the floor, the luxurious leaves within set alight soon after. Judas breathed it deep, the pain in her knee subsiding somewhat.


    "So. Busy night, Miss Alighieri?"


    His voice was buttery, syrupy, like molasses and brown sugar - but also deep, and dark, and smoky, a chocolate that just managed to toe the line between perfection and bitterness. If the abyss had lips with which to speak, his was the voice which would echo from it to entice and ensorcell the unwary. Something in the way he spoke lent itself to the idea that the was smiling, but he never smiled. His mirth was reserved for better things.


    "...yes. Another assassin. Nothing I can''t deal with, as you know... But they''re becoming more frequent."


    She had more to say, of course, but that was not the way of things. Not with him. So she held her tongue and shut her mouth, sucking down another long draw on the cigar to help still her nerves. He took a few moments off his own before responding, thinking of how best to respond, how to put his myriad thoughts into words. He was always so slow and deliberate - so very particular in how he did things, even things as simple as speaking. He had always been this way, from the first day Judas knew him up until now. How far they had come since then.


    "...mmh. Assassins, eh. The Knights again, I should suspect. They''re becoming a real... nuisance recently, aren''t they?"


    Now that was a loaded question. Judas took a deep breath before responding, her eyes shut to focus herself as another shard of silver was excised from the cartilage of her knee, her hands balling into fists to try and ignore the sensation. Her nails drew blood from her palms.


    "Yes. But, a nuisance that can be tolerated, sir, I assure you. They''re... Not so bad. After all, our profits-"


    He raises a hand to stop her from speaking, and she halts dead in her tracks. He blows a ring of smoke Judas''s way before giving his reply.


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    "Profits, Judas? We have enough money to buy this nation twiceover and still have change. You and I both know we don''t do this for the profit. We have more important things to consider than money."


    Silence hung like a guillotine in the office. His eyes were on her, she could feel them, even shaded as they were. It was her turn to speak, of course it was, who else was there? But it took herculean strength to push past the knot in her throat.


    "I understand, sir. I didn''t mean... I know we have different priorities nowadays. After all, the deadline is going to-"


    He shifted in his seat, leaning across the table, cutting Judas off with his own words - they cut the air like black velvet, calm in tone but underlined with the edge of a knife.


    "The deadline, Judas? I don''t want to hear about that from you. I hear it enough from myself, and from the... Others. Did you know those lunatics in Mandragos are working on being able to implant your consciousness into their newer models? Stimulating your synapses just enough for the thought patterns to imprint on the new body, transferring you through some kind of osmosis? And here we are, still working on consolidating political power. When the deadline comes, if the deadline comes... We''re still so far behind that we may as well just raze the whole country and be done with it. What''ll happen if we''re alive to see it is far worse than just being dead, truly dead."


    She flinched like he had struck her, her eyes narrowing in the darkness of the room. Mandragos... Few people thought about it, the proper name for the ''Far North''. Long ago, during the time of peace before the world split back into it''s current factional state, there had been an initiative to explore and colonize the stars; Mandragos was a station, the only remaining station, enormous and self-sustaining. Shaped like a huge ring, it was the culmination of millions of hours of manpower - and when peace fractured, it claimed independence. Little trade came or went from Mandragos anymore, but those that went spoke of a nightmare world of strange flesh and darkened, labyrinthine halls that the sun-deprived inhabitants stalked endlessly. Of course, propaganda was a powerful tool...


    Silence again. She doesn''t have anything to respond to him with, instead simply puffing on her cigar - the gentle glow of the cherry illuminating her face just enough to see her lips and teeth. His own are visible as well: thin, sharp lips, and teeth like a vampire but throughout his whole mouth. He left indents on the cigar where his fangs held it limp.


    Finally he spoke up once more sitting back down in his chair with a subtle creak of leather and wood.


    "I hear your little pet project is turning up results."


    Relief. She nodded in the darkness, happy to have the change of subject, and especially for said subject to involve success, not failure.


    "Yes, sir. We''ve identified another prospective subject for testing; she meets all the correct parameters, and she''ll be easy enough to track down and secure for our purposes. In fact, I''ve received a few particularly promising samples already for replication; it may take some time, but she''s definitely a solid candidate."


    "And the issue is...?"


    Judas wished she could bite her tongue through this cigar. Yes, he was right, there was an issue; the issue being that Esper James was going to take some serious fucking convincing to get her to the point that she could be secured and brought in. Sure, she could get some thugs to prowl the streets and kidnap her, but negative emotion like that could really taint the process - plus, much as she would be loathe to admit it to her terrifying boss, she was still quite fond of the little blonde. If they could get through this without hurting her or scaring her, then everyone won, the timid little ghoulette included.


    Previous candidates had been terminated; they weren''t trustworthy enough to be allowed to continue on with knowledge of Tsang''s darker dealings. Either relegated to imprisonment, decommissioning, or ''stasis'', there weren''t any left that were ideal donors for this most clandestine of projects... but EJ was trusting, pliable, and easy to work with. She may be clumsy and a bit timid, but Judas was sure she could secure her without issue. She just needed time.


    "The issue, sir, is that I''ll need a... a little bit more time to secure her properly. As you know, our previous candidates were... problematic. In this case, I believe a more tempered approach will provide ideal results, potentially opening up pathways to repeat extraction. It won''t be hard, just, give me a month, maybe... Maybe two. Warming her up to the idea, getting her back under my sway, ensuring she''s not a flight risk, I can handle all of it. Two months is all I ask."


    Tsang is wordless and pondering for what seems to be an eternity; the nurse at Judas''s knee has begun sewing her up. It would take a few weeks to recover, but it would heal, hopefully. Finally Tsang speaks again, and that smile has returned to his tone.


    "Yes, Judas, I can do that. You''ve always been my highest-performing subordinate, after all... And here at Tsang Solutions, we work on trust. I trust you will secure the candidate, I trust you will ensure she won''t be a flight risk, and most of all, I trust you can do it all in two months'' time. But know this. Any time past the two-month mark, even a single day... And a demotion will be the least of your worries. Do I make myself clear?"


    Judas swallowed hard, but nodded in the darkness.


    "Crystal, sir."


    Tsang claps his hands together as if he''s just made a groundbreaking business deal, chuckling to himself from across the desk. The sound makes Judas''s skin crawl but her heart set at-ease; Tsang being happy meant his subordinates could relax. He was a decisive and sometimes cruel man, but if he didn''t have confidence in her, he wouldn''t have agreed. That was more powerful than any promotion, more enticing than any bonus.


    She was dismissed with the wave of a hand, a telepathic impulse pressing into her that it was time to leave; it wasn''t explicitly stated, but she had spoken with the CEO enough that she knew what the implication was. Up she stood, bowing for a moment before being helped out of the dark office by her nurse.


    -


    The pair of women walked for a while until they reached the main lobby; no one was present, and it was still dark out, the early hours of the morning just barely beginning to creep in. With a press of her smartphone''s screen Judas disabled the cameras, then raising it to her lips to speak.


    "Main lobby. One pick. Scrub the last thirty minutes with white noise; set cameras to loop until cleanup is finished. May be a little messy."


    The phone was slipped back into her purse to hide away amongst her things, something else - something cold and metallic - finding her grip anew. The ghoulish nurse turned to her and cocked her head, a sweet rasp of a voice rising from her throat.


    "Ma''am, what was that all about, if you don''t mind me asking? I-I mean, maybe it''s not my place, sorry, but-"


    Judas pulled the nurse close with her free hand, stopping her mid-sentence and causing the ghoulette to gasp. She began to stammer something out before Judas kissed her lips, soft and sweet and sanguine, the taste of blood and sugar on her lips. She broke away after a few moments, whispering under her breath even as she raised her other arm.


    "Sorry about this, dear. You''ll feel better when you wake up."


    A single gunshot rang out in the lobby, and the ghoulette fell to her knees. Blood leaked from her stomach, staining her shirt and making her hands tremble from the pain alone, all the wind knocked from her by the bullet''s impact. Another gunshot cracks her sternum with hot lead, and another paints the tiles with the interior of her skull. Messy... yes. Fatal? To a human, maybe, but she wasn''t a human, nor was she meant to die, just sleep. ''Stasis'' was the business word for it - the time between physical death and reanimation for the second-living. A team would be here soon to deal with her and make certain she didn''t remember a word said between Tsang and Judas... but the kiss would remain. Judas liked it to, liked to give her own underlings something to focus on. Something about the kiss would remain in the nurse''s psyche even through the scrub, and when she woke back up, all she would recall would be fixing Judas and being rewarded with a kiss.


    The vampire smiled, looking down at her pistol, sleek and small. In the end, it was poetry - that working for Tsang always seemed to pay with death.

 Act Two (Ch. 23) - Hungry Hungry Hedonists; or, Lunch for Lovers

    When she awoke, she was in darkness. Around her the air was still, and close, and painful to breathe. It was cold in here, colder than almost anything she''d ever felt - shuffling herself around a bit she found this was because she was surrounded by ice chips, from the crown of her head to the sole of her foot, ice chips everywhere. She was also confronted with the uncomfortable reality that she was horizontal, rather than vertical - and moving.


    Outside of her frosted prison, the amorphous darkness which she was engulfed by, muffled sounds could be heard. People''s voices, footsteps, doors opening and closing...


    What the fuck? Did Puri put me in a -


    Her thoughts were interrupted by her body being set down with an unceremonious thump, onto something soft enough to bounce but firm enough to keep her laid out straight. God, she was fucking cold, and jostling the ice chips against her mostly-nude body was not helping. Her fingers began to ball into fists only to find that this was agonizing to do, to the point that she nearly cried out if her lungs and throat weren''t so tired. Had she died? Had Purity killed her, somehow? Or maybe, that cat had... No. She refused to even believe it was real; its face was too humanlike, too alien for a cat, and every time she had seen it it had been a different size. But why was she seeing it in the first place?


    The freezer bag she had been placed in was slowly unzipped, light pouring in like judgement from above. It scoured her pale form and scalded her sensitive eyes, forcing her down to a squint that could be confused with a blink; her arms weakly raised to defend herself and shield her face, but they pushed the ice away too slowly and meekly to be of real use. Warm air greeted her from the outside, and she welcomed it in a sense - if she was in trouble at least she wouldn''t be in trouble and frigid, right?


    A pair of silken hands reached down to take her beneath either shoulder, thumbs on the front, fingers running along her ribcage. She was lifted free of her icy prison with some effort and birthed into the light and warmth, taken high from her resting place and held there. Layers of cloth rush to swaddle her, and soon her sore and aching form is entombed in a comfy cocoon from the neck down. She is placed in a chair, sparse of cushion and hard of back, then pushed in to sit at a table (judging by the way it gently bops her padded chest, at least).


    Esper James blinks, blink-blink-blink, the light overhead slowly dimming away as her eyes adjust. She''s in a small room, a cozy looking kitchen, one that has certainly seen better days; it''s like the back room of a family diner, the large flat-top grill in the corner sizzling away with something heavenly-smelling on its head. The mere scent drives EJ''s blood to pound and her eyes to snap awake, the pain in her limbs numbing while her mouth waters - her tongue feels too big for her teeth, and her teeth feel too sharp for her tongue. Around the cheap plastic table with her were three other figures.


    The first was Purity. She had been the one to lift EJ free of the freezer bag, and she was dressed as nicely as ever: a cashmere long coat, crimson with grey fur trim and lining, a matching grey beret, and brown chinos with fashionable snow-boots. Her hands were freed from the silken gloves she had been wearing, those now tucked into one of her pockets, hanging halfway free. When Puri saw EJ recognize her she smiled sweetly, reaching out a hand to pull the ghoulette and her chair closer so they could sit next to one another. EJ leaned on her shoulder without hesitation, welcoming the closeness.


    The next was an older gentleman in a grey undershirt and arguably-white apron - it was layered with ancient stains to the point that ''tie-dye'' was perhaps more accurate to it''s true color. He had a look to him that could only be described as unscrupulous; the way he leered could strike fear into the heart like a driven stake, and his body - a muscled, slightly hunched physique that suited a dedicated layman rather than one who cultivated muscle for sport - held all the power to back up the intent of his gaze. He occasionally looked over towards the hunk of meat sizzling on the stove, but otherwise his eyes were locked on EJ, looking her over, inspecting her. His hair was balding and grey and his eyes a milky blue, skin pale and dotted with liver spots, but beneath elderly skin was muscle aplenty.


    The final member of their dining party was another man, tall and thin, with black-rimmed glasses to match a black suit, black pants, and black tie. He looked as out-of-place as Purity did, but in a different way: he was the only one of the four whose eyes gently shimmered in that most sanguine of ways. He had the air of a lawyer, or a salesman, or an executive - the constant atmosphere of superiority, but in a way that lent itself to accommodating the less fortunate if only for his own amusement. He smiled sarcastically at EJ as her eyes focused on him, his sleek ebon hair - nearly a bob, but too short to truly be described as such - almost hiding his emerald glare. His skin was pale but of an almond tone, his eyes intelligent and sharp compared to the other man''s, and he was considerably younger as well. Knowing vampires, though, he could have been any age within reason.


    "...EJ? Feeling good enough to talk? I want to introduce you to some people? You, uh... You went a little berserk on me earlier. I think you should meet my friends, if you''re feeling up for it." Purity''s words were syrup on pancakes, soothe on a wound, and they took the blonde a few steps out of her previous agitated state. The meat still smelled good, and her stomach was growling like a starved lion, but Purity gave her something to cling to - something to focus on other than her sudden hunger. She nodded, looking up at the pink-haired chaperone before returning her focus to the strange men across from her.


    "Yeah. I''m... Feeling better. Good enough." Esper James'' body may not have ached much at this point, but her words came slow and uneasily, as if she wasn''t used to speaking. Her eyes went first to the man dressed as a cook, Purity''s left hand moving to indicate him as she spoke.


    "This is Kristoff. He''s a chef, lived here almost all his life. I''ve known him for at least eight years at this point - my dad knew him from the service, though obviously it wasn''t... Kristoff''s not like that anymore. He cooks now. Kristoff?" She raised a brow and gave her outstretched hand a gentle movement, gesturing for him to continue. He scoffed in response, leaning forwards on crossed arms and looming over the swaddled ghoulette.


    "Pfah. Purity, I can introduce myself without you beckoning me like a dog, you know? I''m only sixty, no need to treat me this way." He cast her a quick glance while he said this, but in response she simply shrugged and smiled, allowing him to start again. "Anyways... Yes. Kristoff will be fine. Purity tells me you are one of her little girlfriends, eh? I can''t say her father would approve, but nowadays he and I don''t see eye to eye, so I guess I don''t care. I''ll tell you this, though, little girl - if you fuck with her I will find you. Ok? Ok. Perfect."


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    Perfect indeed. EJ could only nod, soaking up information like a girl-shaped sponge, drinking in all the implications and ideas she was being presented. One of her little girlfriends? And her father? Sure, of course, Puri had to have a biological father - someone who sired her, at least. That''s how reproduction worked. But she had never mentioned her parents, or any of her family, in the past - and suddenly she''s introducing EJ to a family friend? Weird.


    Purity nodded, smiling still, before leaning down and kissing EJ on the cheek. It was equal parts keeping her awake and showing EJ some affection, leaving behind a thin pink imprint of the pinkette''s lipstick lines. She then gestured to the other man, the one in black, who gave an effete little wave with a leather-clad hand.


    "This is Alex. He''s... more complicated. Friend of mine. We met at work one day and really hit it off, and I trust him a lot. He works at Tsang, just like you." Just like all of us, Purity couldn''t help but think, but held her tongue - now wasn''t the time for that.


    Alex inclined his head, reaching a hand out to shake in jest; he pantomimed grasping the air between them and giving it a shake as if EJ''s hand could actually meet his, that condescending grin of his never leaving his face. As he pulled his hand away EJ could see it twitch for just a moment, a quick spasm of the fingers and palm; he quickly tucked is down beneath the table, now leaning on his opposite elbow.


    "Hello, new friend! Name''s Alex C., nice to meet you. I''m a manager over on the other side of town, at one of Tsang''s IRE sites - the one down on Thatchwood road. Ever been there? No, no, of course not - sorry, I know you''re a bit fucked right now, don''t worry about answering. Anyways, it''s great to meet another Tsang rep in a crowd like this. All my coworkers are... Well, they''re lame, hahaha!"


    Something about him was as plastic as a cereal box prize, but there was something genuine laying beneath the surface, prowling like a shark beneath calm waters. Even his laugh was disconcerting, and his teeth weren''t quite that of normal vampires - too sharp, too thin, at least by public perception.


    EJ''s brain sluggishly brought up everything she could recall about IRE sites, everything she could think of from her years of toil for Tsang. IRE sites stood for Incarceration, Rehabilitation, and Evaluation sites; that is, they were for-profit prisons, run by Tsang so that the UNAC didn''t need to posit any in the vicinity of Vitus. They focused heavily on redemption through labor; prisoners were outsourced to industry all around town, usually with compliance training and peripherals to ensure they didn''t commit crimes while on the job. Lots of human rights protestors loved to sit outside IRE sites with signs and bullhorns, shouting about how it was no better than slavery, and how the devices and methodology they used to ''rehabilitate'' prisoners were unusually cruel and experimental, but little reform was ever made due to Tsang''s monopoly of the local prison system. Many of those same protestors would find themselves inside IRE sites within only a year or two of speaking their minds, anyways.


    She nodded in response to Alex, snapped back to reality by Purity giving her a gentle shake. Words came from her after some further effort, her throat dry and her lungs feeling sluggish and heavy. "Thanks... It''s nice meeting both of you. I''m EJ, but I guess Puri told you that. Are we just having lunch...?"


    Silence hung in the air for a few moments as EJ looked to Kristoff, then to Alex, then to Purity, the eyes of the men following hers to gaze at the pinkette. Puri simply smiled, a bit awkwardly, and gestured to Kristoff. "Uhhh... Why don''t you explain, head chef? You''re better at this part than I am..."


    Now it was Kristoff''s turn to laugh - unlike Alex, Kristoff seemed to melt down into something friendlier when the mirth took him, some of his previous grit-and-gruff attitude sliced free and left to fall to the floor. He stood, pushing the cheap metal chair away with the force of his movement, his feet padding towards the stove with the iconic slap-slap-slap of economy flip-flops. An ancient-looking spatula was used to flip the hunk of meat and poke it a few times, letting some excess juice run free.


    "We? No, little girl, you are having lunch. See, you did something dumb, but something every zombie, ghoul, vampire, and expie does in their un-life: you''ve been skipping out on your meds. Two days, maybe three, maybe even four; you think it can''t hurt, but then the withdrawals set in. Withdrawals, and symptoms." He took the meat from the stove-top with the spatula and unceremoniously slapped it into a wooden cutting board that seemed as old and stained as he was, its surface marred with cuts and scratches that had been long since worn down to become a part of the wood. A thin meat knife was produced from the pocket of his apron, that hunk of flesh beginning to be trimmed down into easily consumed pieces.


    "Your body has been running all your funny life with these drugs in you, these chemicals, replicating what your engineered metabolism has been forced to crave - and now, without the drugs, you''re a catastrophe. Now, Purity can''t buy you any Fix, and me and Alex, well... We think there''s a different way to keep those symptoms down. Something more..." He set the knife down as the meat was finished, sliced into warm slivers, the outside browned but the inside a lovely shade of red and pink. It took ''rare'' to the absolute edge. He sprinkled it with salt and garlic powder and black pepper, a simple, easy mix of seasonings that would let the meat itself shine. A glass of bottom-shelf vodka was produced and poured up to halfway in a whisky glass, rocks added, then orange juice dumped liberally over the top.


    "...natural. Better for you. Better for your health, and your brain. You see, Esper James, despite what they tell you, not everyone in Vitus comes back to life. Some people die and stay dead - it''s got to do with your brain and your nerves, if they''re compatible with the process. Not everyone is, and the people that aren''t, they get dumped. Tsang owns the morgues, and the dumping grounds for the truly dead, and what do you think happens to those bodies in a city full of cannibals?" The plate of meat and crude Screwdriver were set before her, with Purity going to take a pair of chopsticks and pick up the first sliver of red-meat sashimi.


    Esper James'' eyes were glazed over by now, the scent of it driving her wild, but the origin throwing her mind into a loop of revulsion. The room felt like it was spinning around her, Kristoff''s purposeful omission only tightening the knot in her gut until it felt like she was going to implode. Her tongue couldn''t sit still; she rubbed it against her fangs till it bled and then some, slicing her up just like the mystery meat that sat on the place before her. The smell was divine, savory and succulent and fresh from the grill, hints of those spare spices underlining an aroma that could drive an angel to sin. She could feel herself losing her grip, her mouth opening of its own accord, beads of sweat forming at her hairline.


    She shouldn''t. It was wrong. It was... It was a lot of things, none of them good.


    But before she could stop herself, her lips were parted just enough that Purity could snake that sliver of meat between them; as soon as the rich, bloody taste of it permeated her maw, EJ knew it was over.

 Act Two (Ch. 24) - Troubled Waters; or, Tasted Tester

    As fresh blood filled her mouth, her own stagnant essence rushed through her veins with a speed that hadn''t been seen since... since she was alive. Warmth crashed through her body like a summer''s heatwave, like a tidal flow from a boiling ocean, and she relished it as much as she resented it. The scents in the room swelled - Purity''s pink perfume and bubblegum breath, Alex''s nervous sweat and musky cologne, Kristoff''s aroma of cigarettes and shaving cream. Behind them came the bloom of colors and sounds: the gentle hiss of remnant grease on the stovetop, the yellow and smoke-damaged wallpaper of the kitchen, the twinkle of light through the decorative bulb-cover of the hanging lamp over the table. She felt amazing; better than amazing, even. She felt alive.


    She fought with herself about the meat while Purity set down her chopsticks, hands moving to caress EJ''s head and put fingers through her hair in a loving and comforting motion. Alex continued to grin, wordless, and Kristoff had gone off to pour the rest of them a drink - three more screwdrivers in quick succession, cheap vodka and cheap juice glug-glug-glug-ing out of their respective containers. Even the sound of that felt crisp and defined, so perfectly clear that Esper James felt as though she could envision the making of the drinks with her eyes closed. She could practically hear the soft hiss, crackle, and pop of the ice as it was added.


    Nausea raised up halfway in her throat as she started to chew, the delicious flavor of garlic and pepper mingling with that savory umami that only red meat could truly provide; it made her whole mouth tingle and her salivary glands work double-time to capture the entirety of the thin sliver''s delicate taste. Her mind was halved now. Should she enjoy this? Her body told her yes, that she should - that it was delicious, that it made her feel real again, instead of some freak, some half-dead drone whose only joy in life was getting home and going to sleep. It alleviated the stresses of her day-to-day in a way that even the bloodwine Judas had given her couldn''t hope to match; it was the real deal, the genuine article. Flesh of a type indisputable in its power and origin.


    But in her brain, in her conscience, she was screaming. Her blood and bones worked against her, muscles forcing her jaw into motion even when she knew it was wrong. She wanted to spit it out as soon as possible, wanted to be free of it so badly that tears welled in the corners of her eyes. How could Puri do this to her? Or rather, why would she? She just needed her meds, after all - they could have gone and got them, could have headed to the drug store and bought more together, could have stayed safe and kept themselves out of trouble... but looking at the other two in the room, it was obvious this wasn''t the first time Purity had introduced a girl like her to this sort of indulgence. Alex and Kristoff were in on it to the point that they didn''t really seem to care about her reaction; they''d seen it enough times before that it didn''t even phase them. This may as well be watching paint dry for them. That thought sickened her more than anything else.


    And then she swallows.


    An immediate reaction occurs in her gut. That is to say, the nausea she had been feeling came to an ugly, bitter head, the ferocious bile of her genetically-altered stomach pushing up through her esophagus to present an immediate problem. She makes a rough hurkh sound and lurches forwards, catching her spew in her mouth, but struggling not to heave once more.


    Purity''s eyes widen, her perfect, beautiful lips splitting to say something, to call out to the others, but Alex is already prepped with a garbage pail he''d been keeping beneath the table. His arms push it forwards to EJ''s chest and Purity helps the bundled-up blonde lean forwards, her upset stomach given free reign to paint a Picasso upon the off-white bin liner. Minutes feel like millennia as she vacates her stomach into the plastic pail, eyes shut tight, ears all-too-keen to the sound of individual chunks and droplets hitting the liner. On the other side of the kitchen, Kristoff is laughing a deep belly laugh that makes her eardrums thrum with the bass of it.


    And then it''s done, and a napkin comes across her lips to clean her. The screwdriver she''d been poured follows closely behind to wash her mouth of the taste of bile, and while you usually shouldn''t drink booze on an empty stomach she doesn''t seem to mind this time. It swishes between her razor-teeth and fills her mouth with the tart, bitter flavor of alcoholic orange juice; her tongue swirls it about to clean away the vomit, swallowed down after a few moments more of the boozy rinse. When it''s all gone she exhales, trembling, her eyes half-lidded.


    "...are you ok, EJ? Do you need to take a bit to yourself? Look, I know, it''s hard your first time... It''s really hard. But you''re not gonna feel better unless you swallow at least a little bit, alright? You were really crazy before... Look." Purity slowly reaches up to her own left shoulder, expression sad but a smile on her face, while the hazy secretary and the IRE exec watch. Pulling her coat down a bit, Purity reveals a patchwork of medical gauze and pads, dark with dried blood, taped and wrapped there by hand. Esper James gasps aloud, eyes wide and shaky, gaze darting up to Puri. The pinkette only smiles, covering her wound back up and re-adjusting her coat so that it was fully put away. Alex said nothing. After a few seconds, Kristoff returned to dole out the booze for the others at the table - Alex''s was a deeper, darker orange, and smelled a bit of iron and copper.


    EJ swallowed hard. God, she hadn''t meant to go crazy on Purity like that... Was that what this was all about? Her hallucinations? Her weird dreams? Her instability? Was it the meds doing it to her - making her crazy, making her vicious, and violent, and hungry? Purity was just a human, after all... She was vulnerable to people like EJ, to monsters with sharp teeth and modified strength and claws that could rend flesh as easily as tissue paper. And yet, she had fought EJ off and still managed to clean herself up enough to go out. She had had the kindness to bring the secretary here to do what she could to help her, rather than abandon her or turn her in after her own life was put into such danger. A lump formed in the blonde''s throat.


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    "I... Puri... I-I''m, uh... I''m sorry. You''re- you''re right, I should try to... Try to eat some. Can you give me some more? I, uhm, don''t think I actually kept any of that first piece in my stomach..." She put on a wary smile, but it was obvious that she was smiling for Puri''s sake. In truth, she was still terrified, and a bit revolted. Everyone had to choke down some awful medicine in their life, right? For their own good? For their own health? That''s what Esper James would have liked to believe... But staring at the slivers of flesh before her, her previously emptied stomach tried to twist itself into a know.


    Purity nodded, giving her girlfriend a kiss on the forehead that left behind a pink stain of love and lipgloss. She truly believed this would be the help that EJ needed - that to sate her own ghoulish appetite, the undead office lady needed to give in rather than stave it away. Sure, the origin was gruesome, but they weren''t using their bodies now, were they? Not like they''d be left to lie in the ground; the only cemeteries left in Vitus were exclusive to the rich or left as holdovers from a time before reanimation was an option. Even some of the highest of the upper class were sold to the medical field after their true deaths, or were cremated to prevent disuse of their bodies post-mortem. Puri believed that those materials, those ingredients, were better off used to serve as succor for people like EJ - people in need.


    The second slice was raised tentatively to EJ''s mouth, but this time the ghoulette took it in willingly. That same explosion of sensation filled her, the nausea lessened, the hunger grown at first but diminished when she began to chew and swallow. This time it stayed down in her gut where it belonged, the thin meat satiating her more than anything else ever had in recent memory. One piece became two, which became four, which became more as time went on, washed down with booze and juice in between every few pieces. Her head spun and her stomach churned but in a way that felt stable, felt good. Each piece went down easier than the last, and soon her own revulsion at the source of the sustenance had worn away into a dull afterthought; the heightened feeling of Purity''s gentle hands upon her, caressing her and wiping her face of juices, lulled her into a feeling of security which drowned those ill sensations from before. Now she was comfortable and a bit sleepy in that way that comes when you eat a large meal, stomach growling gently as digestion begins.


    "So...? How was it? Goo~ood?" Purity snickers beneath her breath, pulling EJ''s head back into the welcoming cushion of her coat-clad bosom while the delirious diner considers her answer. The silk gloves come back on to help provide an interesting sensation for the blood-drunk ghoulette to focus on, the now silken fingers rubbing against her ears and cheeks and neck and scalp to help her truly immerse herself in the state she''s in. Alex and Kristoff are talking about something else, something that EJ could hear if she tried but which she frankly doesn''t give enough of a damn to focus on - Purity is her focal point for now, the anchor which keeps her grounded. She was a velvet pillar to be tied to, with a silken collar that never seemed to choke. It was good; cozy even.


    "Yeah... yeah. Good. Tasty, I think. It got easier as I went, y''know? Now I just sort of feel warm, and heavy, and kind of soft, but in a good way. I feel cozy and complete. I really feel like this hug is doing a lot for me, too..." She laughed, a soft and sociable little laugh, and Purity joined her after gifting her with a kiss on the cheek. The two snuggled closely and enjoyed the sounds of one another''s breathing while Kristoff and Alex spoke, EJ reveling in the feeling of change and reinvigoration her body was going through, Purity simply pleased that her newest girlfriend was taking well to this ordeal. It was no joke to be put through the withdrawals of FixAte, and EJ was doing oh-so-well for a girl of her personality.


    Time seemed to slip away. At one point Kristoff turned on the radio, classic rock beginning to crackle through a dated set of speakers, the machine they were attached to clinging to life through a jury-rigged car battery. Alex started to smoke, heavily at that, and Kristoff joined him; Purity drank her screwdriver slowly, sharing sips with the already intoxicated EJ, before having a cigarette of her own once the glass was empty. Music and warmth and scent and sound washed over Esper James at every turn, crashing upon her like waves upon a stony outcropping, the assembly of outcasts and outlaws around her far more of a ''friend group'' than any she had had in years. Sure, she had some online friends she had endeared herself to, and they were dear to her, but there was nothing quite like... Quite like the closeness of seeing someone, of meeting them, of knowing them.


    Were these people her friends? Was she their friend in return? Purity, yes - Kristoff? Alex? They may as well be strangers. But in this moment, in this meeting, they were all implicated in something considered to be a high and heinous crime by Vitus officials. UCAS frowned upon cannibalism, of course, but in Vitus one''s flesh was considered just as much a sacred treasure as it was a valued commodity: the genetic engineering and biological manipulation that was achieved here meant that the body was one''s truest and most prized possession, but it was also a thing to be used, to be sold, to be bartered with and traded for. To consume the blood of another was one thing - blood was easily given in certain quantities, and vampires were seemingly immune to the diseases which blood could carry, so it was less taboo and more simply risque to imbibe the red of another''s interior. Their meat, though, was far more difficult to replace - and for a second-living, the meat of another of their kind was bitter and inedible. Only the flesh of a real, true human could sate that dark hunger, and humans weren''t stitched back together quickly or easily like the dead were.


    Perhaps not friends, no, but co-conspirators. Friendship would come in time, and just as she may learn about them, they would learn about her. Alex worked for Tsang, and Kristoff was a veteran, just like EJ''s grandfather had been. Surely they''d all have common ground, or at least be able to be comfortable enough with one another than friendship would come in time.


    Purity brushed hair from EJ''s face, leaning down to kiss her on the lips, a tender touching of lips becoming a passionate, deep embrace of one lover to another. She smelled like sweet smoke and vodka, her perfume mingling with the aroma of vice to give her an exotic, dangerous scent. EJ''s thoughts went to femme fatales from dramas she had seen - Puri was similar, in a way. Tougher than she looked, and full of secrets and surprises... but loving still, and beautiful, and smart. She was everything Esper James needed and more.


    How had she managed to be so lucky as this?

 Act Two (Ch. 25) - Lovelorn; or, Love Lorn

    As the meat-high began to wane and the others in attendance became bored of mingling, EJ became vaguely aware that she was being lifted to her feet. Vaguely not because she was unable to perceive it; rather, she was so busy perceiving other things, everything else she could, that the brief moment of motion wasn''t even worth noticing. There is the sound of a bell being rung towards the front of the shop, and Alex disappears from view - when he returns he has a pile of clothes in his hands, which are thrust towards Purity. They''re women''s clothes, stylish and modern, but far too small for someone of her height and bust. Logically, they''re for the dizzy little secretary.


    "Cmon, EJ, let''s get you dressed... You''ve been bundled up in that blanket long enough, haven''t you? C''mon, we can use the guest room; it''ll only take a little bit." Purity smiled gently down at her dazed and confused lover, who managed to gaze up and grin in return. Her touch felt so good... So warm upon EJ''s cool skin, even through the blanket. But there were things that were still bothering EJ, things that wouldn''t so easily be pushed away through the influence of flesh and blood and booze. They weren''t minor concerns, either - they needed to be addressed. Her grin faded and her expression became obscure as she screwed up her face in an attempt to wipe away some of her high, if only so Puri knew how serious she felt. It didn''t do much except cause the other woman to giggle as she led EJ away.


    They stepped down a hallway or two before entering an unused bedroom deep in the bowels of the restaurant-and-home complex, a tiny affair with a twin bed and a single cabinet. Hanging from the ceiling was a lone bare bulb which burned like a dying sun, filaments holding out to try and stay alight despite age and wear and usage. Purity closed and locked the door, then turning to EJ with a wicked smile; the pile of clothes was dropped unceremoniously onto the floor, Purity''s hands going to her coat''s buttons and beginning to undo them, slowly but surely, bare flesh peeking out with every disk slipped from its cloth bindings.


    EJ was oblivious, too busy focusing on her words. Her mouth opened to speak, tongue feeling strange within its ivory housing, speech drawn out through effort and concentration alone. "Purity... We gotta talk. I, uh, I don''t think you''ve been... super honest with me, y''know? Like, you''ve been keepin'' secrets from me, ''bout stuff you should probably tell me if we''re gonna date. I dunno, it just feels like..." Her slurred words are stopped by a finger pressed to her lips, thin and dainty, drawing the ghoulette''s eyes open and over to Purity once again.


    "Esper James... Boo, don''t worry about it, ok? I promise I''ll explain everything once we''re home, but you''re a bit messed up right now, aren''t you? You can barely even concentrate... God, you can barely talk, right? I''ve got plenty of experience handling people who are fucked up, don''t worry... Just take some deep breaths, start getting that blanket off..." Purity''s words rang like twinkling bells in EJ''s ears, each one shaking her in a way that destroyed any semblance of speech that formed in her own throat. Focusing on Puri''s words kept her own from growing, kept her from speaking through simple distraction, and by time Puri was done speaking EJ had grown frustrated from trying to even form the thoughts in her head into a tangible form. When Puri''s hand went to help peel the blanket free, EJ''s eyes snapped over to her, away from the wall she had been absently gazing into until then.


    "No...! We''ve gotta talk about this now, ok? It''s important! I''m not that fucked up! I''m only f-fucked up ''cause you made me eat that stuff! I... I didn''t want to, y''know?! But... But... If I didn''t, then I''d be fucked up in a worse way! I''d rather be like this than being insane and biting people, biting you, but I still have a say in it!" Her petite physique trembled beneath the blanket, fingernails digging into her palms as hands became fists, sharp razor-teeth bared for her audience of one to see. Rage welled within her, but something else, too: fear. Fear that she was still going to be that little pushover she had always been - fear that speaking her mind was going to get her punished or hurt, as she had learned it would in the past. Puri was her girlfriend, right? Or something like it? They weren''t official, sure, but they were pretty good together, and pretty close. That meant they could be honest with each other, didn''t it?


    Puri sighed, tutting her tongue. She continued to get EJ free of her blanket cocoon, slowly but surely, but spoke in return to try and assuage her lover before she became hysteric. "EJ, sweetie... You''re being really crazy right now. Look, you never have to eat any ever again, I promise... We only did what we had to to help you. To make you feel better. You do feel better, don''t you? We couldn''t buy you any medicine, but if you didn''t get a grip, you''d be in jail. Do you want to be in jail?" Her tone was sweet but her words were dripping with venom; there was a definite implication beneath it all that chilled EJ, that made her snap more awake than anything else had done at this point.


    "...I... I do feel better. I do. But that doesn''t mean I feel ok! Maybe... Maybe we could have talked about this, at least? Instead of tying me up and carrying me around like a cold bag f-full of meat? Instead of being so weird and secretive? And, frankly, what did Kristoff mean about ''one of your litt-'' Hey! Stop it!" EJ cuts herself off as Puri finally removes the swaddling of the blanket, now coming close to the trembling ghoul, her hands coming to the jacket which now loosely hangs upon her shoulders. Purity''s barely clothed, her jacket acting as a cloak to conceal her generous nudity while the rest of her outfit lays cast-off on the floor. She goes to kiss EJ, to press their bodies together, but the ghoul pushes herself away and dodges Purity''s grasp.


    "What the fuck are you doing?! I''m trying to talk to you, Puri! This is serious! I''m... I''m not really in a sexy mood, anyways! I mean, maybe when we''re back at your place, but... No! No, no, no. I''m trying t-to have a serious discussion with you!" EJ''s face twisted into a confused scowl, brows furrowing but eyes widening as she tried to make sense of the situation. Purity seemed a bit dismayed that EJ had pulled away but she was anything but deterred; she simply cast off the coat and began to pad along the bed on all fours, creeping towards EJ with a thin smile.


    "Sweetie, come on. You''re acting hysterical; frantic, even. Take a deep breath, count to ten... Five things you can see, four you can feel, three you can hear, two you can smell, one you can taste... C''mere, just let me snuggle you. You''ll feel better." There was something in the pinkette''s eyes, the way they gleamed, that wasn''t as benevolent as her behavior and words might imply. The hands that once caressed and cuddled EJ felt as threatening as claws; the mouth that bestowed kisses and sweet words of praise was the maw of a hungry beast ready to eat. The anxiety in EJ''s chest only heightened as Purity grew closer, the gap between them closing by the moment... and then, Puri''s hand was laid onto EJ''s knee, tenderly but insistently trying to push it aside.


    Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    EJ''s opposite foot went to Puri''s shoulder like lightning, the same shoulder which was padded with gauze and tape, pushing hard to stave the club darling off. Puri''s eyes went wide and she yowled in pain, biting her lower lip as she rolled back to be free of the painful press, eyes shutting tight and face a mask of suffering. EJ hopped to her feet in an instant, adrenaline pounding into the core of her being, instincts heightened and thought dulled by the influence of flesh; she was barely thinking of what she was doing, only responding to the subconscious. While Puri nursed her shoulder and cursed, spitting words that EJ wasn''t even paying attention to, the ghoulette threw on the bare minimum of clothing that had been brought for her: a black slip-on hoodie and a pair of grey sweatpants, topped off with a pair of stylish skate shoes from some brand she had never heard of. They''d do, for now; all she could think of was getting out of here, out of this building, away from Puri and her friends.


    There was a feeble call of "EJ, wait! Come back!" as the door to the bedroom was tossed wide, but the blonde had no intention of even saying goodbye. She had to leave, and she had to do it now. Back through the hallways she ran, hood up and shoes untied, past a few back rooms that didn''t help her in the slightest to navigate; she hadn''t paid enough attention when they first went to the bedroom, and now she was hopelessly lost in the mundane, featureless backrooms of the complex. Hallway after hallway was passed, room after room, until her nose picked up something: a person, their breath, heavy with booze and blood. A vampire. From the cologne which followed, it was the one from earlier, Alex.


    And he was approaching quickly.


    She stopped dead in her tracks like a child who had been caught, fear keeping her legs from moving, brain addled and anxious and raging against the situation she had found herself in. Her internal conflict was turmoil, but it was broken into shards of wordless terror as the vampire turned a corner. His smile put her already cool veins to ice, and when she made the mistake of looking into his eyes, she was frozen completely.


    His slick black dress shoes click-clacked along the tile floor as he approached, already thin eyes narrowing with insidious mirth when he saw the state of her, his smile wide enough to eat dinner off of. Never before had such obvious joy in another person filled EJ with such dread, except perhaps in Judas herself. He kept walking until they were only a foot or two from one another, before his hand slipped into the breast pocket of his suit, producing a familiar-looking device. A smartphone.


    "Hmm... You look lost, Esper James. Almost like you''re running from someone, right? Haha... Hahaha! Oh, wow, Puri really threw you for a loop, huh?" He loomed over her like an evil overlord, the psionic waves radiating from him keeping her locked into place. The mind was a frontier that was still rarely explored in modern days, but vampires had low psychic pulses to help them influence others - those that trained this ability were considered to be the foremost diplomats the West had to offer, though they had little sway over those who had completely mechanized their brains. This man was one of said vampires - one whose presence was truly dominating if he chose it to be, like the seducers and tricksters from stories long since forgotten. The smartphone was turned in-hand to display its back, the sight of the case punching EJ in the figurative jaw.


    A funny-looking anime girl with rainbow hair and boxing gloves was posing on the back, surrounded by a beautiful scene of the ocean. Rainbow Shrimp, EJ''s favorite character from an extremely dated anime from the East, before the Cultural Influence Termination and Extrication act had gone into place. It was her phone. Why did he have it?


    "This was in that... duffel bag you arrived in. I figured you might need it. Don''t tell anyone about this, ok? We undead... We Tsang employees, we''ve got to stick together. Puri''s my friend and we do good business together, but I know you, and I know your boss, even if you don''t know me; I know that you''re important, powerful people, and even more than that, I know that you''re a good person, somehow, despite it all. We don''t have a lot of good people left in Vitus nowadays. So you''re going to take this phone, you''re going to go down the hallway I came from and take a left, and you''re going to go straight until you find a doorway out. And you''re going to forget that this little meeting happened. Ok? Nod if ok."


    EJ nodded, emotion welling in her chest to meet and quell the rage and fear burning there. She wasn''t so sure about what he said - about undead needing to stick together - but it seemed like he was being genuine with her. That was enough for EJ. He held out her phone and she took it gingerly, afraid he was going to snap at her somehow when she tried, but no such reprisal came. He nodded as she slipped it into her pocket, going to turn on his heel and walk away, expression mellowing out to smug self-satisfaction as he did.


    "Oh, and EJ? Purity... She didn''t mean it, whatever it was. All I ask in return for this is that you give her a second chance. She''s been through a lot. You have too, I''m sure - you must know what it''s like."


    Before she could find the words to answer he was gone, click-clicking down a different hallway on those black dress shoes, moving far faster than his casual gait should allow. And then he was gone, and EJ was alone with her phone and the directions he had given her, still wondering about what he had said. Give her a second chance? Sure, she hadn''t been trying to hurt EJ, just... the blonde was tired of people assuming what was best for her, even into the realm of stuff like this. To have Purity, someone she trusted and felt for, ignore her words and feelings just to get some tail? It felt insulting. Demeaning, even, and yet she couldn''t find herself being as angry as she had been earlier. She''d speak with her again, in the future, but not today. Not for some time, she figured.


    Down the hallway to the left, then straight till she found an exit. It was simple enough, and yielded the advertised results - the door at the end of the hallway spilled out into a small stairway that led up and out into a dingy back-alley, one choked with refuse and damp. Snow didn''t last long here but the water from it did, making plenty of puddles for EJ to stamp through as she walked out into the early evening, the sun just beginning to dip in the sky; the city''s smog was colored a breathtaking hue from the sunset, one of the few beauties which remained of the natural world here in Vitus. It felt bittersweet to her.


    Her phone was used to call a cab, and she shuffled into it wordlessly. She was headed back to her apartment; the idea that Judas or her goons may be there was present in her head, but she had nowhere else to go, and she wasn''t keen on relying on others to hide from her problems. This she would face head-on, if there was anything to face at all; and if there wasn''t, she would find solace in solitude for a time. In the distance her complex loomed through the pollutant sky, an imperious palace of concrete and light, as crushing and soulless on the outside as it was within. However hellish it may be, however, it was home. EJ felt very ready to be home again.

 Act Two (Ch. 26) - Home and Healing; or, Failed Perception Check

    Back home, back to Kehler Complex. The cabbie was wordless and simply tapped the fare monitor set into the console when they finally arrived, the transaction made with a few swipes and taps on her phone. Up she went, out of her off-yellow vessel and onto the sidewalk, nothing but cold concrete and the stares of strangers to comfort her. Greys and glass were painted with the shades of the sun; the building itself, normally a brutalist monument to compact efficiency, was in a state both breathtaking and pitiable.


    Rebar showed through holes in the exterior, bullet holes a reminder of Vitus''s growing criminal element, while other chunks had been freed from the recent terrorist activity or even simple vandalism. The bottom floors were spotless due to a rigorous cleaning regimen to prevent graffiti - the upper levels, surprisingly, sported a few smaller tags that the maintenance crew wasn''t paid enough to care about. Fire damage had left sections of the concrete catacomb of a building blackened, and some of the windows were similarly scorched beyond easy repair. If they weren''t designed to be impossible to break or open then they may have broken from the abuse.


    However, something about this entropy is a breath of fresh air to the wayward blonde. Like Vitus, this building is far from perfect - in fact, it''s falling apart, only held together by those unfortunate few who are consigned to keep it standing. It may be damaged and in a constant state of disrepair, but that gives it a human element that far outclasses (in her mind) the picture-perfect monoliths of steel that the wealthy and influential hid themselves away in. The housing complexes were the environment of the neo-poor: those with enough money to rent and afford to eat, but kept in constant debt by taxes, tailored wages, and slow but steady inflation. Only a few of them even had car parks, the idea of a personal automobile too bizarre for most in Vitus to even consider.


    Outside the building, a handful of people are playing with a hackey-sack. Late teens at youngest and mid twenties at oldest, a few of them eye EJ over as she walks forwards and past - without a word, the one with the hackey-sack kicks it over to her, making sure she''s watching before he does. Instinct kicks in, still fueled by her early dinner, and she manages to awkwardly return it to the group. It''s greeted with cheers and smiles. No invitation to join, but that was ok; she didn''t want to, anyways. Just being there had been enough for her.


    In through the doors she went, a pair of mechanized steel doors mostly made of glass. They slid apart like parting jaws to give her access, the lobby of the building every bit as boring as she remembered, seemingly untouched by the exterior damage. Off-green carpet too short to lose a grain of rice in covered the entirety of the floor on every level, its dinginess only spared to the individual apartments; the walls were similarly drab, being a pale orange-ish color that could only be considered a sad, sun-bleached creamsicle. The ceiling was made of grey tiles interspersed with inset light fixtures; hanging lights would have been too easy to smash. A reception counter sat off to the side, manned by an overweight woman in thick horn rim glasses. She was asleep, and snoring loudly; she was rarely needed, anyways.


    EJ smiled. Just like she''d left it. Not that it had been long... A few days at most, right? Shit, she was losing track of the days... but things would be fine at her apartment, surely. This place was too peaceful, too lived-in to pose her any threat. Not right now. Not tonight.


    Or so she hoped.


    Through the doors to the stairwell (elevator was out again) and up she went. Her apartment was on the 25''th floor - not easy on the legs by any means - but she barely even registered the trip. Step after step disappeared behind her as she worked her way around the stairwell, occasionally stealing a glance out one of the cracked or dirty windows to take in the view of the city. Something caught her eye: a massive factory with a huge FF in neon lights on the side was still, silent, not a wisp of smoke pouring into the sky. Perhaps that was why the sun was out.


    "Another strike, maybe...? Or someone got caught in the intake again, and they''re sterilizing it..."


    The words came without thinking, and alone as she was, she didn''t mind voicing her thoughts aloud. The factory was Frohl''s Foods, an independent corp that specialized in the meat-based commodities that Vitus thrived on. Sinewdles, bone starch granola bars, jerky and rind trailmix, marrow-cakes, blutbier (the German used only so that the average citizen didn''t make the connection), lard spreads... The list went on and on. Their safety standards were loose at best... every month or two someone got caught in the machinery and the whole factory needed to be sterilized to prevent human meat from contaminating the product. Government cleaners came in, hosed it all down, and then it was back to work as usual the next day.


    By comparison to FF, Tsang seemed benevolent to EJ. At least if met true-death while on the job working for Tsang they''d pay out life insurance. That was a luxury most people weren''t afforded anymore - in a city where death was more of a speedbump than a finality, insurance companies were jumpy to say the least.


    Finally, floor 25 loomed. EJ snapped out of her daydream to step through the heavy metal door which separated the hallway from the stairwell, feet padding onto that dreary green carpet only to carry her straight into someone else''s torso.


    Whud. Her face met soft, lived-in cotton with a similarly forgiving body beneath it, causing her to stumble back in surprise; her footing gave and she went to tumble, but a firm hand shot out faster than sound to catch her by the collar of her baggy sweatshirt. There EJ sat, suspended by a stranger''s appendage, eyes wide and mouth opened slightly in her surprise; she couldn''t help but drink in this other person in this moment of stillness, still too frazzled by the day''s events to properly respond.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Long waves of raven hair, teased up to form a small curl, covered most of her head; the left side had been shaved down to the flesh, tattooed with a skull over crossed skeletal arms. Her ears were pierced with studs and bars and small rings, sparingly but densely enough to be notable; her nose, too, was studded on the right side, and her left brow held a few more. Her brows were thicker but sculpted, and her features were sharp; piercing amber eyes gazed out with concern at the blonde, mouth speaking but the words not coming through. EJ blinked a few times more, giving her noggin a little jiggle to try and focus.


    "...you alright? Shit, you''re not high, are you? I can''t babysit you... What apartment are you going to? Hey, can you even hear me? Say some-"


    EJ cut her off, regaining her footing just as she began stammering excused for her own absentmindedness.


    "Uh, shit, sorry, I''m ok! I''m ok...! Sorry, I was just... I was thinking about stuff, y''know? Wasn''t really paying attention where I''m going... Sorry..."


    She could feel her face turning red while the other girl watched, those sharp, elegant features shifting into a relieved grin. When the stranger spoke again EJ couldn''t help but let her eyes roll across the girl''s freckles, silently admiring the way they were peppered across her cheekbones and nose. They reminded the ghoulette of constellations.


    "Good, haha! Good, yeah... Oh, thank god you''re not on something. Not that I mind normally, but I''m already late for something, and... Nevermind, doesn''t matter. I''m Kell. Nice t''meetcha, floormate. I haven''t run into you before, I don''t think."


    For a woman who was late for something, Kell didn''t seem to be in a huge rush. She helped EJ to her feet fully now, realizing only after a few moments that she had still been holding the blonde''s hoodie - now it was her turn to blush, the garment released with a guilty, apologetic smile. EJ brushed herself off before replying.


    "I, uh, I don''t get out much, I guess... I''m Esper James. Nice to meet you too, Kell... I''m from apartment 2091, wayyyy down the hall. I''d love to talk, but you''re late for something, right?" EJ put up a smile of her own, hers more of a facade. She felt guilty for running headfirst into this other woman - she didn''t want to hold her up any more than was necessary. Instead of dashing off, however, Kell''s eyes lit up when EJ divulged her apartment number, the girl''s ivory smile widening still.


    "2091?! Yo, I''m in 2095! We''re like neighbors, a little! That''s super cool. We should definitely hang out - in fact, what are you doing right now? Are you busy? I''m a little late, but I''m going to go hang out with some friends right now - other people from this floor, don''t worry, no one weird - and guests are always welllll-coooooome~"


    Her excitement was jarring, to say the least, but it was a warmth that drew EJ in more than it pushed her away. After everything that had been happening in her life, a no-strings-attached hangout with some new friends did sound tempting... And what was she going to do in her apartment, anyways? Watch old anime? Sleep? Make a sad dinner? Sleep, again? It was still only the early evening, and there was plenty of the time left before she''d need to get up for work... if she was even going to head in tomorrow. That settled it. She''d bite.


    "Huh... I guess it has been a bit since I''ve just hung out with people... Sure. I can give it a try, I guess. Lead the way, new friend!"


    She laughed a little, and when she laughed Kell did too. Soon enough they were heading down the hallway towards the 2060''s, chatting between themselves. Kell was outgoing and easy to talk to; charismatic may have been a stretch, but she was friendly and easygoing in a way that set EJ at ease. They discussed work (Kell was unemployed but got pension from her late father''s company), favorite movie genres (a shared love of horror, but bitter opposition about which series were good), and life in general. In the distance, their destination - apartment 2062 - sat nestled between the other completely identical doors in the housing complex. As they neared it, Kell slowed pace and turned to EJ, an earnest, concerned look in her eyes.


    "Ok, so... I do have to, like, preface this with something. Everyone''s really cool and nice and stuff, but like, uhh... They''re... They can get a little political. I promise, they''re not really that bad, but, well, it''s a bit of a weird environment sometimes, so..."


    A little political? That was a flag redder than fucking blood at this point, but EJ was also this far in, and Kell was fun; if her friends were like her then surely they wouldn''t be so bad, right? Besides, what could your politics really be in Vitus - or in the UNAC as a whole? It was an oligarchy of loosely-veiled corporations that propped up a lame excuse for a central government. It wasn''t rife with choice or political freedom, though nowhere really was nowadays. EJ nodded, shrugging her shoulders at the information as if it wasn''t such a big deal.


    "Yeah, that''s no problem; I''m pretty chill, myself, but I don''t mind some banter I guess. What kind of stuff should I be expecting?"


    As she asked, Kell opened the door to the apartment without knocking. Inside, a handful of young adults, each somewhere in their early to late twenties, were playing a boardgame with pens and paper. The scent of meat and blood from home-made mixed drinks and what seemed like barbecue potluck rushed out in a comforting wave, enveloping the two women. At the table, a young man with bright eyes and slicked-back black hair was regaling the group with the details of a horde of monsters; the players, enthralled, prepare their dice and plastic miniatures for battle.


    Kell smiled, turning to EJ and pulling her into the warmth of the room. As the pair entered the group at the table turned to look at them, smiling and waving, faces pleasantly surprised when they noticed EJ. They were a motley group, all different cultural shades, but there was something each of them held in common that the ghoul picked up on almost immediately: their eyes. Each one was undead, without a doubt.


    "Oh, y''know... Nothing that I think will really be an issue."


    Kell winked at EJ then, closing the door behind them as the two headed to join those already in attendance, a plate of BBQ and a plastic mug of blutbier (the man with the slicked hair insisted it was a ''tankard of ale'') provided for either of the newcomers. It was going to be a cozy night in, for sure.


    Just what EJ needed.

 Act Two (Ch. 27) - Your Regularly Scheduled Programme...; or, Natural Twenty

    Esper James was... comfy.


    It was an unusual feeling for her, after the events of the last few days. Even trying to process any of those put her into a bit of a state of heightened anxiety, her tongue rolling over the smooth inner walls of its ivory prison, but looking outwards at Kell and her friends helped to center her - to bring EJ''s mind away from the tumult she''d been put through. The one thought she couldn''t shake, however, was Purity. The pinkette''s behavior still shook her to her core, everything from the semi-forcefeeding of literal human meat to the attempted disregard of consent... It made EJ''s stomach roil. Made it gurgle and croak, like she''d been starving for a thousand eons. Made it slosh and ripple, fighting to break free from her own pallid flesh, to make its displeasure known.


    Kell, sitting to EJ''s right, took notice immediately - she was still in the mindset of being EJ''s minder, though it had been expressly stated that the wayward secretary hadn''t needed such personal attention. As EJ stared into the pseudo-wood of the kitchen table they were playing at, letting Kell''s friends'' speech roll over her like auditory waves in an ocean of sound, Kell herself gave EJ''s bowl of BBQ a gentle push so that it occupied the blonde''s vision wholly.


    "Hey...! EJ, dude, you look fucked. Like, in a bad way. C''mon, eat something. Please? Seriously, you look like you''re about to start taking chunks outta the table soon."


    Kell laughed softly, the hand she had used to push the bowl going up to EJ''s opposite shoulder in a show of hesitant camaraderie. EJ was, in turn, shaken from her daze - eyes now focused on a bowl of mixed, unidentifiable meat, shredded and mixed with a barbecue sauce that was instantly notable as a blood-infused recipe. Blood, brown sugar, salt, other spices too minute to upset the stomach of an undead... It smelled so good to her weary nostrils, and it was blazing hot, fresh from a crock pot somewhere in the kitchen. The clayware bowl it was sitting in absorbed some of the heat, too, making it pleasantly warm to the touch, and EJ subconsciously put her hands on either side of it - drinking in the warmth of both the bowl, and surprisingly, Kell.


    She turned her gaze upwards and to the right, towards her benefactor, her own red-flecked irises meeting with Kell''s own distinct ambers. The bigger girl smiled down at her and gave a toothy smile, but there was an amicable undertone of concern to her expression - she was worried that EJ was zoning out, and for the second-living, that usually meant only one thing. Little did Kell know that after Esper James''s lunch today, the timid little blonde was far from having that sort of freak-out. For now, at least. She''d need to get more pills tomorrow, though.


    EJ gave a quick nod and a half-smile up at her new friend, her own expression turning to one of bashful gratitude, eyebrows going down and eyes narrowing as her lips went up to bare her teeth for that aforementioned smile. She took the fork which was sitting half-deep in the barbecue slop and stabbed into it, bringing a great wad of meat up to her mouth, and chewing visibly but with her mouth closed in a performative attempt to ease Kell''s mind. The taste of sweet, savory, and strong, peppery umami crushed into her tongue like a tidal wave, not nearly so enthralling as the human flesh she had been ''treated'' to earlier today, but it was still pretty good for potluck fare from a bunch of strangers. In a way, EJ was thankful for the food, helping settle her stomach but also giving her an excuse to not say much, or really pay attention to everyone else at the table. Kell, too, seemed happy that EJ was eating, giving her a friendly wink before turning her attention back to the rest of the table - and then back to EJ.


    "So! Little guest! We are all very excited to see that Kell has finally brought a cute girl home, and even more excited to see that she''s brought that same girl to sit at our table, and maybe join our game! Now, I suppose introductions are in order: I''m Eddy Jacobs! Hotshot extraordinaire, and your local dungeon master, ha-haaa!"


    The new, unfamiliar voice snapped EJ from her BBQ-consuming trance, making those uncertain eyes raise to their source - and finding that everyone at the table was staring at her intently now, each hunched over small pieces of printer-paper to lean towards her like a pack of hungry jackals regarding their prey. It was frightening for someone who had just met a pair of scary individuals already today, but feeling Kell''s arm on her back and hand on her shoulder emboldened her. Esper James swallowed deeply, gulped down that last mouthful of barbecue, before taking a large glug of her blutbier and clearing her throat. It seemed the man with the slicked-back hair was their host, and also, the aforementioned ''dungeon master''.


    "Hello, everyone...! I''m Esper James, but most people call me EJ! I''m really glad to be here tonight... Unfortunately, I h-hate to break it to all of you, but Kell and I aren''t... Romantically involved. However! I''d be happy to join in on whatever game you''re playing, and since I live locally, I''d, uh, be happy to join in on any further game nights you guys have...!"


    She capped it off with a big smile. It was fake, sure, but they seemed to eat it up - and while they cheered and welcomed her, she surveyed the audience. A couple men with well-maintained, ashen skin, seemingly brothers; a single woman with long, green-dyed hair, sitting close enough to Eddy to imply that perhaps they were a pair; and then Eddy himself. Pale as a ghost, paler than EJ, even, with oily-black hair slicked back like a gangster from hundreds of years ago, and with piercing yellow eyes which reminded Esper James of a rodent. His brows were thinner, his teeth big and white and notably mostly sharp, though something was odd about them. His face was approaching gaunt, and he had a tattoo of the same design as Kell''s on his neck, on the left side.


    Esper James thought about those teeth for a few moments, before it hit her - they were all second-living, but those weren''t the fangs of a ghoul. He must''ve been an expie, an experimental strain. Tsang is always trying to innovate, after all, and so the defined convention of vampire, ghoul, zombie wasn''t as set as it seemed to be to an average civilian. Sometimes, Tsang worked on developing new strains, new types of second-living, or attempted to. It was rumoured that the first two, vampires and zombies, were designed from some sort of genetic baseline - but then the latter developments, things like ghouls and the oft-rumoured ghasts, were synthesized in part from using the genetic material of vampires or zombies to influence the resultant product. Of course, EJ had never seen or heard anything that could corroborate this claim, but... well, it was in the back of most people''s minds when the topic of expies came up.


    "Welcome, Esper James! I''m so sorry to hear that Kell still has yet to get _any_ pussy in the most recent decade of her life, and yet! Overjoyed that there is, in any capacity, a new guest to our table! Tell me, EJ, have you ever heard of the game ''Wayfarer''? It''s just released its second edition, and we''re all trying it for the first time recently! This is our third session, but you won''t be far behind! We can walk you through char-gen if you''d like!"


    Eddy sure was talkative, wasn''t he? Or so EJ thought to herself, that bashful tinge to her smile returning, a hand going to the back of her own head to scritch-scratch at it in pleasant embarrassment. Kell, meanwhile, had already produced a series of game books - physical copies, surprisingly, therefore quite expensive - and was laying them out on the table in front of her. One of the brothers, to her left, placed a series of plastic miniatures beside them - each unpainted and grey, but with obvious detail to their design. It felt, in some strange way, like all the treasures of Solomon were being laid before her, some tribute to a foreign goddess to entreat her favor. Or, that''s what she would be thinking, if she were Judas. Instead, it was all horribly awkward for her, making her skin burn and her blood pressure rise and her ears start to ring gently.


    She nodded her affirmation, and in an instant, Kell was leaning over her to help her make her character. She settled on a ghoulish elf, this version of the game having second-living variants for the purpose of representation. For a class, she chose a rogue - someone who could hide in an instant, who could avoid threats rather than confront them head on. That, too, was telling, and in a sense EJ wished she could have just chosen something brawny and front-facing, like a fighter. But Kell was already a fighter, and their group had multiple magic users, so a sneaky thing like a rogue would be ideal.


    Once her character was completed, the game began. They were fighting a horde of goblins, both living and second-living, a mixed group. EJ was a fast learner, though, and slowly felt herself enjoying her time with the game - the sense of agency, of being able to control her character to do things she herself wouldn''t have dared to dream doing, that ever-present underflow of escapism gripping her hard in its claws. As she played, she felt her phone vibrate a few times, generally in a rapid spurt of texts. Taking a moment to check, it was a series of tAsT notifications, many of them from Purity. She ignored them, not even reading them, surprising herself in the process; Purity had been so built up in her mind that just yesterday she would have dropped everything to respond and seem like an attentive, doting ''friend'', but now? She was too preoccupied with these new friends. Their new offerings. The temptation of living a normal life, having a normal hobby, enjoying normal friend activities with Kell and Eddy and the others.


    Minutes turned to hours. The early midday lengthened into the afternoon, and despite herself, EJ couldn''t help but feel the effects of a great fatigue brewing in the depths of her being. It had been a long day, such a long day, and while their game was fun, the second-living were a nocturnal breed - so much so that everyone at the table seemed to be drowsy, yawning, or having their mental processes slowed. Eventually, Eddy clapped his own book closed, and announced that the session was coming to an end.


    "And a big thank you to Esper James, our newest player! EJ, I really hope to see you again! We play every Wednesday, at around eight AM! We stop around noon, usually!" Eddy winked at their newest player, pulling the girl with green hair closer so she could kiss his cheek and be a good little piece of arm candy. It chilled EJ to think that such dynamics might exist even amongst the normal citizens of Vitus - it reminded her too much of Judas, and Purity. How they pushed and pulled her. But still, she managed to put on a brave face and smile wide, her own arm going to wrap itself around Kell''s midsection to the amusement of the taller woman.


    "Yeah! It was really fun, Eddy, Kell, Damien, Vivica, Franklin! I''ll try and make it more often, but usually, my job has me getting up around now for work... but I''ll try! I promise!" Kell snickered softly, while the other gathered attendees each nodded or made some other display of acknowledgement. And then, she was ferried free of the apartment by Kell while the others cleaned up. Once they were out in the hallway, Kell leaned down to put her lips near EJ''s ear, putting on a stage whisper. "EJ? You gonna be good to get home on your own? You seem kinda shaky... You could come crash at my place, if you really wanted. Or do you need to work?"


    EJ''s cool blood ran colder as Kell''s words set in. It reminded her of something Purity would say, would offer, trying to get her back home just to screw her silly and have whatever she wanted from the petite blonde. She couldn''t bring herself to agree - those wounds were still fresh. "N-No thanks, Kell! I''ll be ok... Just gotta get dressed for work, haha." A frankly pathetic smile was offered to the bigger woman who she currently leaned on, the only thing to focus on in the hallway, as far as she could see or perceive. The blood high from her lunch had waned at this point, and she could no longer make use of the heightened senses that came with, but now, just the two of them, EJ leaning on Kell''s torso like a little lost drunk... She became vaguely aware of Kell''s musculature, toned and distinct. If it wasn''t natural, she had had work done - and if it was natural, she was likely pretty strong. Strong enough to whisk EJ away if she really wanted. Strong enough to be threatening.


    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    But Kell didn''t seem like she wanted to do that. She just shrugged and nodded, letting EJ stand on her own again. "A''ight, cool! I''ll see you around, ok? Maybe find you on tAsT or something, yeah? My username is ''SerialKeller420'', haha! Add me, ok? Alright, I''ll see you around, bye!" And with a shared wave between the two of them, Kell walked down the hall to her apartment, only four units away from EJ''s own - but in the Kehler Complex, that was still a pretty fair distance. The domiciles were spacious enough, as far as reasonably priced apartments went. EJ was left alone, standing in the hallway, contemplating her next move. There was still so much she had to do, and she''d have to show up for work today if she didn''t want to get fired, even though Purity had said it would be ok to miss a day. And so, her feet began to slowly take step after step towards apartment 2091, dread rising in her chest to match the bile rising in her throat.


    As she walked, out came her phone. 23 missed messaged from Purity. They were worryingly kind and caring in their content - wondering where she was, if she was safe, if she had eaten anything else, if she was in trouble, and a whole litany of apologies. God, so many apologies, and each with a slowly growing underflow of self-loathing. Purity said that she was sorry, that it was disgusting of her to try and do that, that she had misread so many signals, that she understood they were just friends and not an item, that she would do anything for another chance... and further. More and more of the same. It honestly rent at EJ''s heartstrings, seeing the woman she had so admired (and then feared) be laid so low, to see her stoop to such a level just for EJ''s sympathy and acceptance. The rising tide of emotions was as terrible as floodwaters in a tainted bog, setting a disease of sorrow upon every part of EJ, but one she refused to acknowledge yet, despite the tears welling at the corners of her eyes. God damnit. Crying again.


    And then, a familiar voice called out from down the hall, right outside her door. "...EJ! EJ! Oh my god, you''re ok! Oh, fuck, I-... EJ, I''m so sorry! Please, I got so worried I came to see you, please oh please say you''re ok!" Purity. Standing there in the exact same outfit as this morning, her eyes red from crying and her makeup in a state of uncharacteristic disrepair, her trembling hands holding Judas''s coat and boots that EJ had left behind. Her face was a mask of emotional pain, even just laying eyes upon the little secretary seeming to have both soothed a part of her and destroyed another. EJ didn''t even have time to react before Purity rushed forwards as fast as she could, going initially to embrace the diminutive blonde, but then thinking better of it and just allowing Judas''s stuff to clatter to the floor instead. She bent down, so her eyes were level with EJ''s, barely shaded by her hot pink hair and still lined with gorgeously-done liquid eyeliner and mascara.


    EJ''s heart was pierced by a dagger of the coldest ice that could ever exist, stolen from the northern reaches of the UNAC, now driven directly into her sternum to graze her emotional center. Seeing Purity in person was... unreal. It was obscene. The woman who would have been her abuser now here, inclined down to be level with her, tears beginning to fall hot and slightly black as the human gazed upon the blonde. In her head, EJ was going to wait at least a week or two before seeing Purity again, before considering forgiving her, before even trying to reconcile. However, now? She was put in a hard spot. The hardest spot. Caught between the feelings of joy and comfort and fondness Purity had invoked earlier, and then the fear and anger of later... But she wasn''t strong enough to voice this. She wasn''t strong enough to be mad at her anymore, and she hated herself internally for it. She wanted to be mad, to be pissed, to tell Purity that she was disgusting and controlling and that what she had tried to do was equally disgusting and abusive. But, staring into those big pink eyes, mouth agape, EJ began to bawl.


    She stepped forwards as she cried loudly and openly, throwing her arms around Purity, resting her head on the shoulder she hadn''t kicked this morning. Purity gasped and began to cry openly as well, the hot tears from moments ago a prelude to the deluge that now flowed freely down her rosy cheeks. The two embraced - Purity''s arms swaddling EJ into her own buxom form, a soft cushion for a cool and exhausted body, their shared fabrics rustling as their brushed together. Purity was warm, so warm, so very warm, and she smelled as good as always. There was an additional sort of softness in how she handled Esper James now, holding her close and letting her have all the time she needed. Purity, frankly, also needed some time, it seemed.


    The pair stood there, interlocked, for what felt like only moments but was in fact nearly twenty minutes. Eventually the flood broke and the tears stopped, down to only whimpers and soft regrets, the bubblegum-haired party girl never fully letting her hands leave EJ''s body - now upon either shoulder. EJ was the same, though: her own hands rested on Purity''s midsection, on her burgundy coat, an inch or two above either hip. Their actions said more than words could, in this moment, and frankly, they were better for it. Words would have ruined it, and so, they enjoyed the silence. The pair both had so much they wanted to say, it was obvious, but neither could bring themselves to say it; not yet. EJ''s eyes and head briefly turned towards the door to her room, an unspoken question, and Purity nodded curtly and let her go. They gathered up the dropped items and walked in unison, Purity opening the door for EJ.


    Once inside, the items were set upon EJ''s kitchen table, alongside a small box. EJ noted the strange box but didn''t yet inspect it, instead clearing her throat and turning to face Purity, who stood a respectable distance away so as not to encroach upon Esper James more than she already had today. When EJ finally found the strength to speak her words came thin and weak, and warbling, the sound of a dying bird whose song was being warped and lost by whipping winds. "Purity... I... I... I don''t know if I-I can... If I can forgive you. It might... It will take some time. But... But at the same time, you make me feel a way that no other woman does, no other person. You make me feel loved. Wanted. Needed, in a way. And I... I need that now. I need you in my life, even if you hurt me, I need you, even though it pisses me off. Please. This morning was... Shitty. So fucking shitty. Extremely shitty. I never want to experience anything like it ever again, and I know your friends might say otherwise, but it wasn''t good for me. I''ve felt so rattled ever since eating that meat, and then you..."


    Her voice broke down. She couldn''t continue the sentence, and Purity began to sob once more, melancholy rising up within her as she watched the shaky little blonde, too, let tears she thought had long since run dry fall down her cheeks. They refrained from another embrace, the mood to hostile for physical touch to diffuse, the air taut like a drum and twice as tense. Finally, EJ spoke again. "Purity... Never again. Never again like this morning. I wish we could go back to Monday and start all over again, try it all anew, but... What''s done is done. And I c-can''t lie, I''d be too fucked up at this point to try and move on past you when you were... The first person in a long time to make me feel ok again. To make me feel acceptable. Please. I''m willing to try again, to go back to what we had before, but... Never a-again." She felt like she needed to ask for affirmation, for some sign that Purity was willing to proceed with this proposed plan, but it didn''t come. It wouldn''t have been good.


    Purity broke down. She nodded as quickly as she could, pink hair flying back and forth, her knees buckling beneath her. Faced with the truth of her fuck-up, Purity was crushed - the single rotten support beam holding up a mountain, finally giving way in her heart. She fell to the ground, now on all fours, tears dripping to the floor of EJ''s apartment as the second passed. Between sobs which wracked her body, she made out her response. "Yes! Y-Yes, EJ, of course! Of course never again, never, never ever again... I... I''ve been beating myself bloody inside, thinking about this morning, I... We had something good. So good. So really and truly fucking good, and I was too fucking greedy to realize that, and I was so disgusting and needy, a-and... And selfish! All I could think about was how I... N-No. It doesn''t matter what I was thinking of! I just want to go back to us being, like, situationship friends! Even just normal friends! We don''t need to do anything like that anymore, I promise, I just..."


    Now it was Purity''s turn to drop silent, choking on the words in her throat. The two of them were absolute wrecks. The tears in the hallway were only a prelude to this sudden storm of emotion, and it took uncounted minutes just to pull themselves back together. And when they did, EJ turned back to the table so she could look away from Purity for a moment, hands going to the small box. It was pink and wrapped in a lace ribbon, with the words ''TO EJ'' written on it in permanent marker. EJ wondered who it was from, what was inside it, among other things. Was it from Judas? A silver-laced bomb as penance? A lethal fiery IED? Well, she''d have to open it eventually, so there went nothing... Until it was opened, and no mechanism clicked or triggered, and inside was naught but a small black strap, with a steel centerpiece. It was the choker that Purity had given her, washed off and returned, in pristine condition. It looked good as new.


    Ice ran through EJ''s veins as she considered where she had last seen the choker, but the ice cracked and thawed as Purity came up behind her and hugged her, holding her close, the pinkette''s head descending to rest gently upon the blonde''s crown. Purity sighed deeply, but smiled upon seeing the choker, assuming wrongly that EJ had simply kept it, rather than having it returned via postage. EJ allowed herself to be held, wallowing in the sudden crush of warmth in her chest - imagined warmth, the kind emotional stimulus often brought on. She sank back into Purity''s arms, hating herself for her acquiescence, but also relishing the contact. It was a hard dichotomy to handle: her disgust and outrage at Purity for ignoring her consent, but also her own need for Purity''s affection and reassurance. The two stayed like that for some moments, before finally Purity spoke up.


    "Hey... Let''s take this to the couch. Or something. I... I know you''re mad at me, but you looked like you could use a hug. And I''ve really been wanting to hug you, to make up for this morning. Please. Let''s go cuddle, and I can start my penance..." She wanted to chuckle, but only a smile came. EJ wasn''t in the laughing mood, but she nodded - allowing herself to be pulled to the couch at first, but she stopped Purity with a hand. Nausea started to roil within her innards, and bile had come crawling acidic and evil up her throat, but she couldn''t stop herself from what she did next: directing Purity towards the bedroom for a nap with the gentle gesture of a hand. Purity seemed surprised, shocked even, so taken aback that she wasn''t able to move at first - but then finally, after taking some seconds to center herself, the pair headed towards the bedroom.


    Within, they both kicked their shoes off, and Purity removed her coat to display a ''HATE FUCK'' band tank-top beneath the burgundy layers. EJ kept her own sweatshirt on, and her sweatpants. The two of them remained rather clothed, in fact. And then, they shut the door, drew the curtains, turned off the lights, and cuddled up into bed, EJ''s stomach still a tumultuous mass of venom, Purity still shocked she was allowed to get this far after her previous crimes against her semi-lover. The pair snuggled up together, EJ''s fists balling as she berated herself internally, Purity''s own hands holding EJ close like a lover on their wedding night. It felt wrong. It all felt wrong, even down to the return of the choker. And yet, in some way, some sick, perverse way, this all felt good to the secretary. It all felt right.

 Act Two (Ch. 28) - Love You Like An Alcoholic; or, Post-Traumatic Steak Dinner

    Rage. Revulsion. Despair. And yet... an obscene, despicable sense of relief.


    Each of these flowed in equal measure through Esper James''s veins as the pair laid there in the darkness, breathing soft and slow, taking in the scent of one another. Purity was all bubblegum and pink candy, sugary-sweet and delicious, sensual in an unspoken way. Esper James was sweat, booze, the natural musk of skin, and the leftover remains of her hair product from the last time she showered. Each participant was both trying to ignore the other''s aroma, but also, hatefully, enticed by it. For EJ, it brought her mind back to the Jezze, to their first night dancing together, to the more personal administrations that followed back at Purity''s apartment, and the beautiful, loving morning that followed. For Purity, it reminded her of two things: firstly, a soft, sweet, unfortunate girl who had lost her way, one who was desperately in need of help, of comfort, of anything to soothe the pains of the waking world; secondly, it reminded her of herself.


    Memories flooded in, past gates long since locked and barred, but Purity kept a brave face. She wasn''t that girl anymore. She didn''t even really know if she wanted to be the girl she was now, but having someone there with her, someone she wouldn''t see one night at a party and then never see again, it gave her what little strength she could muster. It kept her strong enough to not break down for a third time, right there in the bed. She gave EJ a squeeze, soft and hopefully reassuring, pulling her petite pal further into their snuggle. EJ held back the desire to spit vitriol at the other woman, too comfortable in their shared closeness to want to threaten it''s continuity, but still feeling a bubble of fury form within her heart that Purity would be acting so familiar with her. She wanted so badly to pull away... And yet, a traitorous part of her wanted to immerse herself in Purity''s grasp. To never leave, to never be let go, to never go back to work or see Judas again.


    Thoughts of Judas sent ice through her body, jagged, creeping fingers of some distant, unseen devil from the frozen layer of Hell where betrayers are punished. What would Judas say? Or do? Tomorrow, when she went back to work... Even a beating would seem light, a gentle punishment, a deserved sort of agony. EJ''s mind slithered to the memories of Judas''s twisted form from Tuesday night, her long, terrible claws and fangs, her lengthened and rippling musculature, her hair like that of a wild beast, frazzled and no longer the perfect, straight curtain of midnight locks it usually was. It had been horrible to witness. Atrocious. To think that she had let such a beast ravage her earlier in that evening, give her bruises, explore her body like she had been looking for buried treasure, abuse her in such ways... At the time, it had felt good. It had been exactly what some inner part of EJ needed - for a woman, one like Judas, to devastate her physically and degrade her mentally. To put her in her place, as it were. And yet, the reveal of that inner demon, seeing her and Est battling in what surely would have been a lethal confrontation...


    She shook her head lightly, shaking those thoughts from her mind. Thinking of Est now, that was a whole other can of worms. A threatening, worrying can of worms, one that both intrigued and unsettled. The last she had seen of the Knight of St. Lazarus, she had been curled up and pathetic, dying slowly from her wounds, practically begging EJ to free her from this mortal coil. She wouldn''t have a chance at second-life; she would have had her true death right then and there, as all mortals do, her metal-and-flesh body rent asunder by the power of Judas''s pistol. And yet, EJ had been too scared, too unsure, and despite herself, too fond of Esthrielle to do the deed. She had shown mercy. The secretary had purposefully shot wide, and then left, an emotional mess as per the usual, battling her own feelings of horror at her boss and dread at what Est''s fate may be.


    So why then had Est returned the choker? It looked good as new - didn''t reek of nutrio-fluid, didn''t have any strange blue stains, and it was free of any damage that EJ was sure had happened to the leather strap. The question of how Est had entered her apartment in the first place was a foregone conclusion - she had picked the lock somehow, without a doubt, and so that didn''t bother her. What did bother her was why. Was it repayment of her earlier mercy? That had to be it. Had to be. Otherwise, any other even semi-believable conclusion was too outrageous to consider. As she pondered, she was unaware of the ice in her body being replaced by the curious, seeking tendrils of sleep, the whole day having worn her out despite herself, despite this technically being the time of day she should be awake. Soon, without warning, she fell asleep, beginning to nap.


    When she awoke, Purity was nowhere to be seen - but checking her clothes, she herself was completely unmolested in any regards, no further attempts at gratification made upon her sleeping form. It had only been for a couple hours, she found, checking her phone - and Purity had, as it seemed, left while she was sleeping. That was surprisingly decent of her. And yet, as her feet were slung out of bed and touched the floor, she heard the clatter of pots and pans from the kitchen. A deep sigh welled in her torso and released itself through her mouth, past her myriad fangs, a display of weariness and displeasure for no one''s benefit but her own. She stood, then, and began to proceed towards the kitchen, the energy she had gained from a bit of sleep giving her the conviction to actually kick Purity out this time.


    When she arrived at the kitchen, she was greeted by the sight of Purity whipping something up that looked fairly complex - some kind of meat dish that smelled delicious, but didn''t look close to done yet. Not a chance. In fact, the scent of garlic and honey and cooking meat was overwhelming, but EJ could tell just from a whiff that the meat was still mostly raw. She took a few steps closer, getting right up beside the preoccupied pinkette, one of the blonde''s hands reaching out to tap her shoulder. "Ahem. Puri. What the hell are you doing? This is my place, these are my groceries, and I''m still pissed at you. I probably will be forever, but, y''know." The words left her lips with an air of disdain, carefully selected and implemented, trying to spook the taller woman into an apology and potentially a departure.


    Purity whipped around, nearly spilling the bottle of Worcestershire sauce she held in hand. Her face was a perfect portrait of a woman caught doing something she shouldn''t be doing: eyes wide and frightful, mouth agape, whole face pulled into an expression only describably as ''aghast''. She set the bottle down quickly and looked around the room at a rapid pace, trying to find a proper answer, before finally her eyes shut in a pained look. "Ok! I''m sorry! I thought maybe you''d be hungry when you woke up, so...! So I decided to make you dinner! Or lunch? I guess it''d be breakfast, given the time for you, but still...! Look, EJ, can we talk?! Once this is done, we can sit down and have a nice meal, sit a respectable distance from eachother, and just... I have so much I want to tell you. To admit to you! Please!" The distress in her voice was obvious, the woman speaking not even attempting to hide it, her panic infectious in the sense that EJ felt her conviction relenting.


    "Fine. We can eat. I''ll go sit down, and wait for you. Once we''re done... talking, then you''ve got to leave. I''m only kinda sorry, but after you almost fucking assaulted me earlier this morning, I''m still considering whether we can even be friends still." The words were tinged with false malice, but EJ had her own underflow of regret coursing through them. Purity had made her feel so wanted, so special; why had this had to happen? Why couldn''t things just go right for her for once? She harrumphed, turning away before Purity had the chance to answer, and walked over to the dinner table - only two chairs were there, opposite one another and one of them rarely used. EJ sat in her preferred seat, the pseudo-wood not even creaking beneath her weight.


    Purity simply nodded frantically at EJ''s words, then spun right back around to continue cooking. The minutes ticked by as silence enveloped the two, only broken by the sizzling of beef and the gentle splashes of sauce or the shaking of seasoning. After a bit, Purity removed the pan from the heating element of the stove and placed it onto a metal rack made for holding such things. She dished up two plates, one much more full than the other, and walked hurriedly over to the table - placing the fuller plate before EJ, with a pair of reusable chopsticks, and sat across from the blonde with her own plate and utensils. She hadn''t thought to bring anything to drink, but that was fine - the meal was so saucy, no further liquid would likely be needed.


    EJ took her chopsticks and put a piece of beef into her mouth immediately, ghoulish hunger, never truly sated, giving her the appetite to eat again after the earlier barbecue. It was some kind of Eastern-inspired recipe, honey and garlic mingling with the umami of the beef and Worcestershire sauce, an undertone of sesame coating the entire thing in a mellow and nutty flavour that was given a bit of spice from sprinkled red pepper flakes. Frankly, it was delicious - Purity had obviously made it before, and put additional care into this batch. Or so one could assume. As EJ chewed and swallowed, relishing the flavour, she looked up at Purity expectantly. She had said she wanted to tell EJ something, after all, and so a bit of prompting couldn''t hurt.


    Purity didn''t touch her food. Not yet. She sat smiling, eyes sad but mouth happy, pink lips parted in a pathetic excuse for a display of joy. Her brows were furrowed, though, and her eyes seemed like she was watching a dying pet have its last meal. Eventually, she began to speak. "Ok, EJ, this is a lot... Like, a lot. You probably won''t believe me, even, b-but... Well, I want to rebuild what we had going. I want to prove to you that I''m not as bad as you''re probably thinking. I won''t feed you a line of bullshit, I promise, but, like... God, how do I even start? Ok. Ugh. Here goes nothing. I... work for Tsang. I have for two years, at least, and before that..."


    She grimaces as the memories come back to her, invisible specters accosting the safehouse of her mind. She cleared her throat, choking back emotion audibly as she gulped before continuing. EJ, respectively, perked up at hearing Purity worked for Tsang. Up until now, she had been under the assumption Purity was a high-class camgirl, and that was how she afforded such a nice apartment and lifestyle. But she had told Purity she''d listen, and so she did, though that honey garlic beef continued to be gobbled down without any hesitation, her eardrums playing the muted drumbeat of every chew, every swallow.


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    "...before that, I was homeless. Jobless. I had fuckin'' nothing, you know? I was alone in Vitus, scared and sleeping at shelters, trying to... To find someone to take me in, I guess. It was horrible. I dealt with so many fuckin'' creeps in this city, and I never had money or time to have any fun, and every shelter I went to, they... They suggested I kill myself, you know? To get a second-life. To get hired by Tsang. To not need to eat as often, sleep as long, to be more resistant to the elements... I mean, they were Tsang-owned shelters, so like, sure, I get it, it was to their benefit, but... Ugh. I was so full of negativity. Everything and everyone around me was terrible. It was like living in Hell. Grimy streets every day, bleak shelters filled with hateful staff and weird, aggressive perverts every night... I hate that period of my life. I would have done anything to escape."


    EJ nodded along, listening intently, the images of what Purity was describing forming in her mind''s eye. Her own mind went back to earlier in the week - when some cretin had cornered her in the alleyway, when she had met Est. If Est hadn''t shown up, it would have been too traumatic for words to describe, too horrible to consider. And to think, a pretty girl like Purity, homeless, vulnerable? Wandering the streets at night, trying to find someone to be her friend, to show her a sliver of kindness? The secretary shuddered despite herself, still not sure if she believed Purity, but the tale she wove was certainly vivid, if nothing else. The rest of it didn''t shock her too badly, though - she had heard of plenty of mortals, of first-living, ''killing'' themselves in public places or grand shows so that they could find the immortality of second-life, the benefits of such an existence outweighing their warm, mortal lives, in their minds. It was grim, but in her decades of being alive as a ghoul, un-aging and unchanging, the shock had dulled considerably.


    Purity continued, her words becoming more feverish and impassioned as she continued, the pain in her heart emboldening her but also wracking her with the aftershocks of great trauma. "A-And then, one day, at a shelter, one that I went to regularly, some dude in a suit approaches me. Says he''s from Tsang. He''s part of some weird initiative, and if I sign a contract, then I can have a few thousand dollars right then and there. They''ll help me find an apartment. Help me buy new clothes. Help me wash up, fix my hair, learn to style my makeup... It was like something from a dream! It was everything I had wanted! Some strange benefactor stepping in, to help me, to fix me, to make me normal - make me real - again!"


    Now that was a shock to the ghoulette. Imagining Tsang offering such generosity was frankly insidious, because the corporation never gave without taking, and while they were good to their employees, they also worked them like dogs. Everyone but executives felt as though they had been indentured into slave labor, for the most part, and EJ knew that feeling firsthand. What was the catch? What was the snag? Thousands of dollars, a new apartment and wardrobe, and personal lessons in helping her fix her appearance... It didn''t sit well with the blonde. She stopped eating then, emerald eyes narrowing at Purity as she listened, her body hunching over the table to lean closer and listen. What followed did anything but set her at ease.


    "So, I signed it! I didn''t even read it, so fucking stupid of me. So fucking stupid. It... They needed help... Getting ''genetic material''. From second-living. Any kind. But they emphasized a specific way of... getting it. I''ll let you fill in what that means. Maybe me taking you home and sleeping with you the first night I met you will give you a c-clue, if you can''t figure it out on your own." Purity took a second to gulp back her emotions even further, and EJ, sitting there dumbfounded, felt a lump form in her own throat as she considered the implications. They were... grim. Repulsive. Almost too unbelievable to be real, but... Purity made a good point. She, a wayward ghoul, had wandered into the club and gone straight over to her. Purity had snatched her up with no pretense, seemingly so smitten with her she whisked her right home. She had made EJ feel so special, gotten her drunk and horny, and then took a sample of her genetic material, wrapped up nice and neatly in the latex of a condom.


    "And I did it for years! Years of my life spent as... a-as a glorified hookup girl! Making my bread and keeping everything I owned only because I slept with strangers! And then, I... I met you. Working my usual spot, I met a girl who, well... Seemed genuinely interested in me. Not just my body, but like, me as a person. As someone you could date. As someone to be with. And, well... My contact. At Tsang. My handler. They told me, y''know... ''Get us more samples like this'', and so, I thought it was a way out. A way to find love, to find a permanent partner, and to be free of all this. I''ve... I''ve got a plan, you know? A plan to, on the next package I send in, to... To end it all. To be free. To take my money and run, in a sense. And so, I kinda... I was blinded by that idea. That sleeping with you one more time, right then and there, could help me be out of that life forever."


    Purity''s lips curled into a remorseful, pained smile, like someone resigned to their fate. Her eyes dropped, down to her untouched food, and she couldn''t bring herself to raise her chopsticks and even pick at it. The admission, the very weight of it, hung in the air like a piano ready to drop. The air was heavy now, thick enough to cut with a knife, and the tension was palpable in a nearly physical sense. The pair of them felt sick to their stomachs. Eating was far out of the question now, and in that silence, Purity fought back tears as she waited for EJ to say something. EJ, however, was too mortified to do so.


    If what Purity was saying was in any way true, then it was a horror story the likes of which EJ couldn''t really, fully bring herself to believe. Logically, it checked out - Purity always made sure she was as appealing as possible, smelling nice, looking nice, acting approachable and enticing, but to think that Tsang would stoop so low? For something as basic as this? They could simply have had all the employees do a mouth swab before work, or at the end of the day, and gotten what they theoretically needed. Even if the genetic material they needed was the product of sexual liason, then why the hell wouldn''t they just... Well, actually.


    Then more Esper James considered it, the more it made sense. Tsang wouldn''t ever go so far as to harvest it openly, or get what they needed from direct means. The public outcry would be staggering, and most Tsang employees would never agree to it. In addition, it would paint the company in a terrible light, and reveal that they were doing something shady in the first place. What would they even want genetic material in such quantities for? Expies, maybe? Further research? Something else? Briefly, Esper James''s mind wandered to Fix-Ate, that little appetite suppressant with ambiguous origins. Was it made from that sort of stuff?


    That thought turned EJ''s guts, made her regret every pill she had ever taken, but also dredged her revulsion to the alternative back up. Ugh. She took a deep breath and released another big sigh, still kind of mulling it over in her own mind, but more than a little unsure as to what the right conclusion was. Tsang was shady, and did evil shit - that, she knew for sure. Hell, everyone in Vitus knew it. But this? Picking up homeless young women and turning them into this? It was a bridge too far. It was despicable. Disgusting. Vile. Her hands were gripped in rage at the idea of it, the idea that Purity may have been subjected to it, that it took this long, and this level of extremes, to even offer an out. Her mind went to the IRE sites, the way those who were ''rehabilitated'' there were treated, almost made into a new underclass of mindless serviles. Fuck. Maybe Tsang could be so cruel.


    And so, EJ stood, walking straight over to Purity, who was still gazing emptily at the table. It was EJ''s turn to be the first to go for an embrace, to offer that comfort the both of them so needed. They each had their own personal Hell, and neither was worse than the other, it just spurred a different sort of actions and reactions. EJ''s arms went around Purity''s shoulders tightly, but not too tightly so as to be aggressive - Purity, for her part, simply sat there like a broken wind-up doll. It was disheartening to the ghoulette, seeing the pink-haired clubgoer so devastated, to hollowed-out and empty, but she couldn''t offer any words of comfort that would truly matter. Nothing that would ever come close to soothing the pain that she had supposedly endured.


    And there sat the crux of the issue. Was Purity telling the truth? Without any evidence, and in light of this morning, EJ was skeptical - but seeing her now, destroyed as she was, and putting the pieces together... There was a definite chance it was genuine. And on the off chance it was, in her heart, some part of Esper James forgave Purity''s misdeeds, even the human flesh thing. They had both been warped by this world, by this place, by Tsang. They had both been put through terrible atrocities, just of vastly different sorts. They both would need serious time to heal. Purity finally found the strength to respond to the embrace, returning it with a single choked sob, looking up with a wide smile lined with wavering lips. She was holding back tears, visibly - they had both cried enough for one day, but in the end, if she had to, EJ would be there for her if she had to release those emotions once more. They both leaned into eachother for a long while, taking strength, taking comfort, in whatever contact they offered one another. The arms of a lover felt good, even if they weren''t official, and still had a huge rift between them. Even then.


    And then, a knock came from the door. A hard knock, a forceful knock, one bestowed with a sense of entitled authority that few could properly administer. "Tsang Solutions product reclamation taskforce. Open the door, ma''am. We know you''re home. You have thirty seconds."

 Act Two (Ch. 28) - The Reminder; or, Rising Tide

    Oh God. Oh God. Product Reclamation was serious goddamn business. What EJ knew of them, from seeing files on them in the company database, they were hard bastards. The equivalent of Tsang''s paramilitary, often employed to brutal use at IRE sites, they were the strong arm of the false law of Vitus. They were sent to ''lobby'' politicians in the UNAC HQ, they were sent to capture rogue dissidents within Tsang''s infrastructure, and they often delivered the requisite beatdowns to protestors who thought they could make any kind of social change within the great grey city of the dead.


    Thirty seconds? Fuck. She didn''t have time for anything, really, but her eyes went to Judas''s items on the table. The pistol. That thought practically screamed into her mind, every neuron in a frenzy as it bounced around her weary, emotionally exhausted noggin. Enhanced reactions helped to push her to fish it out of the pile, from where it lay within the fur coat''s sizable pockets, hand wrapped around the grip. The only time she had ever fired a gun was the other night, but hell, she had played plenty of video games. She had seen how the protagonists held and used them in firefights. That was like practical experience, right?


    Purity, on the other hand, froze up. Her eyes widened in absolute shock, mouth agape, seconds ticking by like hours as she considered what she had heart. Product Reclamation? Who were they here for? What were they here for? Technically, under contract, anyone who was second-living or made use of Tsang''s biosculpting offerings was filled with Tsang''s product. Those biosculpts could be taken away, legally, and the result was even worse for second-living. The result was said to be excruciating. But also, those could very well have been leaked scraps of gossip just to ensure as few debtors defaulted on their debts as possible. Hopefully.


    Seeing EJ grab the gun snapped Purity from her stupor, scrambling to a stand and nearly falling over as she did. Her eyes briefly flicked to the bedroom door, still open and so very tempting, but they they went back to EJ and her expression hardened. The pinkette said nothing as she rushed towards the kitchen, nearly diving behind the island in the center of it as she took some form of cover, whatever cover was available. Anything to be safe from the impending exchange of gunfire.


    Thirty second passed. A thud against the door, hard insistent, and then a second. EJ got down on one knee behind the table, aiming Judas''s pistol at the door as it shook and shuddered beneath the force of the soon-to-be intruder''s attempts to knock it down. And then, the hinges gave way, the door slamming to the ground like a fallen soldier. Standing there was a single Product Reclamation officer, wearing the red and black fatigues of his position, short brown hair mostly hidden beneath a black beret that had a single badge pinned to it. He was unarmed, at least not yet, but the mechanized holster at his hip could vomit forth a sidearm in an instant.


    The trigger was pulled, EJ''s trembling finger spurred into action by sheer adrenaline. The kickback was expected but still notable, even with her ghoulish fortitude replying against it, and the flash of the muzzle was blinding. The officer, who was so confident in entering, staggered back and collapsed as a red, sanguineous rose blossomed cruelly and finally upon his sternum - centre of mass proving to be the most immediate target. He let out a gasp of pain and finality, incapacitated by pain as his bone structure was rent to shreds by the force of the projectile. His dying gasps and gurgles were drowned out by a second gunshot, EJ''s shaky fingers and fried nerves causing her to fire again, bullet piercing the wall behind where her adversary had once stood. Whoops.


    As realization of what she had done began to set in, she cried out, fear and pain and shock mingling into the single bellow of a newborn murderer. The pistol dropped to the table with a thud just as Esper James''s hands went to either side of her head, internal conflict raging in her mind about what she had done. Had he deserved it? What had he even been there for? How would she continue a normal life now that she had killed someone?! Judas couldn''t cover this up. And if she could, she wouldn''t. She wouldn''t dare. EJ had killed someone, even if it wasn''t true death, it was still death. It still bore the pain and trauma that death always did.


    She staggered back, tripping over a displaced chair and falling to the floor. From the kitchen, sudden movement and sound - Purity, having heard the gunshots and EJ''s cry of despair, had managed to grab a kitchen knife and now stood to rush out to the blonde''s aid. However, seeing her unharmed but wailing in fear and outrage at her own actions, the other woman turned instead to the dying officer in the doorway. Her feet moved with surprising speed and decisiveness as she made her way to him, dropping down to straddle his waist, knife turned round in her grip. Something about the force of her motions, driving the steel into him to speed his death in an act of mercy but also defiance, spoke of her resentment of him and everything he stood for.


    Once finished with her wetwork, Purity used the doorframe to steady herself, standing back up and making her hurried way over to the blonde in crisis. Her nerves were notably steely as she grabbed the gun from the table and grabbed the blonde by the forearm, dragging her to a stand, the blood now covering her tank-top and exposed flesh doing little to assuage the secretary''s emotions. Sticking the gun into her waistband, Purity also made sure to grab the choker from its box, putting it into her pocket - the sentimental value enough to make it worth it for her, at least in her mind.


    "EJ. We''ve got to get the fuck out of here, now. He didn''t see who shot him, probably, and all he''ll remember is me stabbing him, so... So you''ll be clean. Probably. Hopefully. I''ll keep the gun, and... And you can leave this behind. I''m so fucking sorry that I got you caught up in whatever this is, that I... That I even entered your life at all. I fucked up everything for you. But you, you still have a chance. You can still live a normal life. You can be normal, keep working for Tsang, just lie and say I was... keeping you hostage or something. Fuck. Fuck. Please. We''ve got to move. A-And if I don''t get a chance to tell you later, if I get gunned down on the streets..." She let out an enormous sigh, the grim determination on her face now replaced with a softening expression of remorse. How had it all come to this? She had tried to free herself, and now she was going to end up even further imprisoned. Oh well.


    She lowered herself to get eye-to-eye with the frantic blonde, pink meeting emerald for a single, meaningful moment. Purity smiled, but there was no mirth therein; it was just to comfort her friend. "I loved you. I always will, probably, but... Well, when they kill me, we won''t see eachother anymore. I''ll get shipped off to an IRE site. But that''s... Not to worry about for right now. Just remember, I always... I always loved you." Her smile widened and the edges of her eyes raised as she feigned warmth and comfort, speaking not of the leaden weight of dread and pained acceptance behind said mask. The truth was too painful to bear, as it usually was. But then she would bear that cross, and face that future willingly, if only so that Esper James, an innocent in her mind, might be free of it. Might go on living after all, even if living was a strong word for what they did here in Vitus.


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    Footsteps from down the hall. Purity drew the gun with a trembling hand, whipping around towards the sound of it, even as EJ tried to formulate a response and began to stammer out what she had managed to dredge up from the deepest, dankest halls of emotion. Her emeralds followed the barrel of the pistol down the hall, to where a familiar figure was racing towards the pair of them. Long raven hair that fell like a one-sided curtain in a single wave, a white t-shirt beneath a sleeveless denim jacket, amber eyes furrowed into a businesslike scowl as a new weapon was raised... Someone EJ had seen earlier that day, someone that she had met for the first time still so soon, but had spent such time with them in those hours that she was immediately recognizable. Kell.


    Kell raised her own gun in a practiced motion, the single ebon barrel sawn off to be barely longer than the pump mechanism''s handle, and the sights leveled at Purity. She hesitated, however, upon letting those scowling eyes flit down to the dead Tsang officer and his myriad stab wounds. Purity was covered in his blood, and she had not been trying to help him. It was plain as day. Even as Kell''s mouth opened to speak, the shivering little blonde of the gunwomen''s shared acquaintance stumbled forward, nearly falling as she did, going to stand between the two of them. Just like that, all eyes were on her - guns beginning to be lowered, but never fully put away.


    "No! N-No, don''t...! Don''t shoot! Please, don''t...!" She looked frantically between Kell and Purity, her chest heaving up and down with each strained pant that escaped her lips. A new crisis arose in her mind: her friends, or her ''friend''? If she had to choose, then she would, but it would be hard to - And as her desperate plea fell on either other woman''s ears, Kell let her shotgun fall to her side, now only holding it by the grip, not the pump. She continued her approach then, still hustling, each foot thudding softly as she rushed up to EJ. Esper James warbled out a cry of relief and deep emotional pain as the fear of her two friends killing eachother began to subside, her own trembling arms going to give herself a feeble, pathetic hug.


    Purity stepped forwards then as well, the pistol she held in her hands going back to where it had been only moments before, her newly-freed hands resting on EJ''s shaking shoulders. Kell knelt down in front of EJ as the trio made contact, her own free hand going to similarly offer comfort: caressing the ghoul''s cheek and wiping away some wetness with her thumb. "Oh? Fuck. I guess I got here too late. But we''ve got to fucking go, you two. I know a place... it''s in a seedy part of town, sure, but we''ve gotta take you guys somewhere they won''t bother looking. Come on. I''ll explain on the way. Bring the gun with you." Kell gave Esper James a gentle pat on the cheek and a sad-looking smile before standing back up, pushing off the ground with her shotgun to help herself up.


    Purity opened her mouth to speak, likely to protest, but EJ''s frantic nodding stopped the words in the club girl''s throat. "Yes! P-Please, Kell, if you know a place...! We''ll come with you! Just tell us what to do, please!" The desperate, groveling tone of EJ''s words struck at the pair of women on either side of her like a chisel brought to a block of stone, softening Purity''s expression to one of melancholy and causing Kell to sigh deeply. "Ok, EJ and friend, let''s go. Down the stairs. No one uses them, and they''ll be expecting us at the elevator, so like... God. There were more outside. In the lobby. We''ll take the back exit."


    There was no more time for rebuttal. EJ quickly ran back into the apartment, grabbed her phone, and then rushed out into the hallway - where the other two women waited expectantly, surveying either approach for hostiles. With Kell leading the way they raced down flight after flight of stairs, always wary to look down the stairwell for approaching Product Reclamation goons, but finding none, their descent was speedy. Once they finally reached the basement, Purity was struggling for breath, but the two second-living of their trio worked together to gain entrance. Kell knew the door code, apparently, and dictated it to EJ so she could open the thick, steely maintenance door. With a click it swung wide, revealing a large rectangular room of cold concrete and thick metal cables, littered with crates and other accoutrements required for proper procedure within a housing complex like Kehler. Once it was open, Kell ushered the other two through and slammed her hand into a large red button marked ''IN CASE OF EMERGENCY''. The door re-locked itself, and there was a loud sizzle-hiss as concealed thermite charges set off, welding it to the doorframe.


    "Alright. There''s a maintenance hatch on the far side of here that goes out to the next street over, and we''ve got - I''ve got friends there who can give us a ride. We can be in the old industrial district within the hour if we''re fast, and I can... I''ll explain on the way over. Come on. I''ll take point." Kell''s house shoes made soft clips and clops against the cold concrete floor as the trio made their way past boxes full of old appliances and spare parts, heading towards a solid metal hatch set into the far wall. When Kell got there she yanked it open, all the way to the ceiling, revealing a dim downward staircase lit only with small, impotent maintenance lights. She ushered Purity in first, then EJ, and then went in last, closing the hatch behind herself using an internal handle.


    The passage was dim, poorly lit, and dusty. Months of disuse alone were made apparent as they made their way through, and it looked like a cleaner had never been here, but eventually they reached the other side - traveling in silence allowed them to make good time, but an already-winded Purity was barely chugging along by time the other hatch presented itself. Kell shoved this one open, too, letting her charges have some moments to rest; in the meantime, Esper James went to check her phone, taking only a brief moment to look at notifications on the lock screen.


    No city-wide notice yet, which was usually sent to all Tsang personnel when their field operatives couldn''t locate a target. A few notifications from tAsT, mostly other girls in the feed Purity owned messaging eachother or limply asking where Purity was, as she hadn''t been active all day. Some other social media notifications. A few pings off of Graveyarde, a dating app targeted towards the second-living. And then, most recently, one that stood out from the rest and which made EJ''s stomach leap into her throat and caused a new wave of panic to flood her sorely overworked body. A single text from Judas, a single query, so innocuous and yet sinister in its simplicity. It was accompanied by a picture of EJ''s empty desk.


    "Hey, EJ, where are you?" - J. ALIGHIERI

 Act Two (Ch. 29) - A Painful Interlude: Really, Another Purity Chapter?

    Even as she sat at the table, spilling her metaphorical guts to the literal viscera-consumer that sat across from her, Purity felt that same devious flare of mischief in her heart. Esper James was so easy to play, to twirl around her delicate, manicured finger like a stray lock of hair in need of some applied obedience... and the little blonde with the sharp teeth, the insatiable appetite, and the surprising amorous endurance sitting across from her certainly needed some obedience applied to her. Just a casual reminder of what she should be feeling for her human playmate: love. Pity, too, perhaps. Whatever would make the ghoulette more pliable, like soaking timber before reforming it into a new shape. She''d ensure Esper James retained the desired shape this time.


    And so venom crossed her tongue. As her toxic words trickled into her target''s ear, just like she had been trained, her mind roamed of its own accord. Through those narrow, dust-peppered corridors of memory, the mental curator of Purity''s consciousness tip-toed past myriad experiences in her life as a warden patrolling a cell block: her twenty-fifth birthday back in February, spent cold and alone at a nightclub that had since been vacated due to Tsang crackdowns; her first night with the compliant little blonde whose attention she now held, the memory rife with the scent of blood and booze, the sounds of gasps and whimpers and shared moans leaking out from cracks in the doorframe. That thought brought relish, the reverie transporting her to a simpler, better time, even though it hadn''t been so long ago at all.


    Past it were the cells of previous engagements, locked up tightly, their keys long since thrown into the bottomless moat of intentional forgetfulness. Whereas the mental inmate representing Esper James''s liason had smelled... acceptable, and her warbling and the quivering tone of her voice and exclamations was akin to sweet music, these other inmates and their cells were repugnant. While her words in the waking world were touched with that same entrancing poison she had been taught to use by Tsang, to entice and disarm, there was also truth to them: men and women were imprisoned here in the recesses of Purity''s mind palace, or prison in this case, each one of them a second-living to add to the body count of her sexual graveyard. How had it all began? How had it come to this?


    Three years ago. Heel-clad footsteps let out resounding clacks in these deeper passages, repression both intentional and otherwise putting up door after door, barrier after barrier, obstacle after obstacle to prevent further inquiry. Purity''s curator stepped past the heavy barricades and all that yellow tape, the keychain on her simulacrum''s hip letting her open those doors that lay in her way and advance ever deeper. This was where she wanted to be right now... Where she needed to be. To draw upon those incarcerated muses of her own trauma to try and excuse the trauma she had laid upon others - to justify her actions, even though justification was the last thing her waking lips were begging for out of all things.


    And there, set into a cell with the doorframe welded and the hinges rusted, a tantalizing peep-hole to sat to allow her curator to gaze in and reminisce - to re-live what had made her into her current form, what had shaped her into a cruel seductress with selfish ambitions. The fall of her Roman Empire, in a way, but also the rise of her most prosperous period in life. It was bittersweet. The money was good, excellent even, and as long as she did what she was directed to do then she could live comfortably, wear nice clothes, eat well, have fun; but also, the requirements were more than anyone should be subjected to, even in the darkest fantasies of fiction. Or so she felt. She had seen some of the popular smut in Vitus bookstores, and seen the artistic endeavors of independent illustrators on social media - perhaps she was less degenerated than she thought. It was a wry thought, and her conscious mind fought to keep herself from grinning as she regaled Esper James with the details of her modern slavery.


    She had moved to Vitus initially for college: once an A+ student with a dazzling GPA, Purity Francharde had been accepted to the Yakumo-Kitagawa Institute of Higher Learning, her application for courses in the medical field smoothed over even further by her father''s military background - UNAC military forces had a program, LAPFALL, which stood for ''Learning Assistance Program For All Levels of Learner'', which practically guaranteed acceptance of any veterans or offspring to any school they desired within the UNAC. The stated reason was to help give back to veterans and their families, and assist with finding a job once they were discharged... but those in the know were aware of the open secret that the real purpose was logistics: if a person enlisted in the UNAC needed to pick up and move to a new station on the other side of the continent, they could get their kids a new school without any hassle.


    And then, disaster. Her funds were dwindling from the start - a ticking death-timer that so cruelly put a time limit on her newfound life of academic rigor. The classes had been stressful and demanding, of course, as medical classes always are... and Purity, with big dreams of being a doctor, maybe even working in one of Vitus''s morgues some day, had taken the initiative to sign up for the most advanced courses she could take. She had been so confident. So self-assured. Previous successes in the academic field had made her headstrong, and with the demands of her torturous coursework, she couldn''t even try to hold a job... And student loans didn''t even exist in Vitus anymore, another support structure dismantled so that those outside of the upper crust could never truly climb higher. And so, she dropped out.


    She had been broke, kicked out of her dorm, all of her personal belongings save for some warm clothes and a pair of fur-lined boots already pawned off for petty cash. Days whiled away beneath overpasses, hiding in alleyways, sleeping in homeless shelters soon became weeks, which became months, which became years. Her social life had withered to the point that the only people willing to talk to a dirty, disenfranchised homeless woman were others in a similar situation, or more often than not for a woman who retained her youth and beauty and mortal warmth, those predatory figures who were looking for an easy score, preying upon the unfortunate for their bodies, their blood, their meat... their emotions. Sadism was rampant in a city where punching up was illegal and punching down encouraged.


    Her peep-hole reverie comes to a brief pause as the images flash by, suddenly given a moment to pause and consider a scene: Purity standing atop a bridge, a ragged and filthy stuffed bunny in her hands, watching the vehicular congestion below like a doctor observing a clogged artery. It was sad, in a way: a massive city, the largest single city ever built, the single greatest achievement of human civilization in the minds of the UNAC citizens... while in truth, it was like the withered body of a cancer patient, struggling against itself to stay alive while all whom resided within went through personal Hells that would make even the Devil weep. Of course, only so many people could even scrape together the funds to purchase and maintain a personal automobile, so it wasn''t always like this.


    Her eyes drifted from the choked motorway and its black, tar-scarred asphalt up to the buildings of the city. Most of them, almost all of them really, were concrete. Grey, depressing, and dour, their cracked and acid rain-worn faces wearing various technological components like countless blisters, blemishes upon an already leprous visage. Personal generators... Air filters... Miniature substations, to ensure continuous access in case of blackout... Cameras by the dozen, but even those watchful eyes couldn''t and sometimes wouldn''t stop every crime in the city. Wires stretched from building to building through the hazy air like the nervous system of a horrid, unimaginable beast, ensuring life was felt and sensation kept by every structure in Vitus''s domain. Tumorous organs riddled with the filth and rot of human life, of the touch of mankind, bloated and ready to fail at any moment.


    Finally, her eyes, still natural blue at this point, drifted skyward. The sun, high in the sky, gave the whole city a warm glow - all that could pierce the countless plumes of lung-burning smog which filled the air of the city with that same tinge of eternal rot. An eternal city, where the citizens never truly died, where the work never truly ended, where the life functions never ceased - but just as tumorous and scarified and frankly abscess-laden as the most disease-riddled beggar that imagination could produce. And at it''s heart, the pacemaker of Tsang Solutions kept the body alive: reviving the dead, pressing them into labor, breaking strikes, lobbying against anti-corporation legislature, doing everything and anything to keep it all moving. It was a horrific affair, but at the same time, there was true beauty in its despair.


    Nothing was as evil, or as cruel, as Vitus. Nowhere on Earth was as devoid of morality, or joy, as Vitus. It was, in a sense, a parody of the very cities that had once made the original components of the UNAC a world power to be considered in the first place. An economic hub through brute force, the most populous city in the nation through bioscience, the largest city through necessity. And then, Purity considered herself. A single mote of dust in the lungs of this great giant - the barest speck of life, doomed to one day die and be returned, to most likely live as a forced laborer within one of Tsang''s monolithic work centres. To help this accursed, vile place exist even more than it already did, to facilitate in her own little way the continued abuse of human life that took place here, the disregard for mortality making the people herein cruel beyond words.


    A dirt-caked boot was raised up onto the railing of the bridge, grime crunching softly as her sole touched the rough concrete surface, slipped below the cold steel railing above. A second boot joined soon after, and up she stood, gazing out over the prison she had willingly put herself into. The very reason for her misery surrounded her, but... But if she died here, she knew what awaited her. Those beautiful, sad blue eyes began to water and well with tears, the smog wafting into them only helping to speed their accrual. Why was life so uncaring? Why had whatever divine source created the world allowed this place to exist as long as it had? Why would anyone, even the UNAC, allow this rapacious affront to morality continue on untouched, unmolested? Didn''t they care?


    And then, from the roadway atop the bridge, just behind her, came the squeal of tires pulling to a halt. Burnt rubber mingled with the naturally smoky and bitter aroma of Vitus air, reaching Purity''s nostrils just as she began to turn, met with the view of an almond-skinned man, face a mask of worry beneath his sleek ebony side-part, scrambling to clamber out of an expensive luxury automobile - it was so low to the ground that he practically had to pry himself free of it to stand. She couldn''t help but sneer a bit at him subconsciously, her own eyes narrowing with contempt as they met the man''s shimmering emerald irises, pupils in tidal lock before breaking free to appraise one another.


    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    "Stop! S-Stop, please, oh my God, miss! Suicide is never the answer! I mean, look at you, you''ve got a lot going for you: you''re young, beautiful, still first-living, and I mean... Oh, fuck, sorry, I''m just a bit frantic..." The man''s words were inoffensive enough, even sympathetic, but nowadays Purity knew of the poison that lay beneath - the subliminal influence of a vampire. She brought her feet back down to the bridge proper, facing him directly, hands buried deep into the pockets of a now-ratty and filth smeared faux fur jacket. It was meant to be white. It had instead been stained permanently, an unbecoming shade of brown.


    "Yeah? What, you gonna offer to fuck me for some cash? Take me to a big party tonight as your party favor to the guests? Tell me that maybe you can get me a job as a nude model? Fuck you. I''ve heard it all, dude, and I''m not fucking interested. Being ''young and beautiful'' doesn''t mean a fucking thing of good, it just means I get people like you trying to get their cocks wet before throwing me aside like a candy wrapper. Well, I don''t wanna be your candy! I don''t wanna touch whatever shriveled little excuse for a dick you''ve got in your pants! I don''t wanna put out for your friends, either, no matter how much of ''their type'' I am! It''s not happening!" Purity closed her scathing rant by spitting on the ground, the very saliva in her mouth slightly tinge of an unnatural color from the air and endless days without proper dental care.


    The man stepped closer, his slight frame and slender figure keeping Purity from being too intimidated by him; he was effeminate, in a way, a disarming way that made Purity calm. Of course, that too was deception, the pheromones in the air piercing Vitus''s smog to set Purity more at ease around the stranger. He listened and watched with wide, frightened eyes as Purity raged, only daring to speak once she was well and truly done. "N-No! No, God no, nothing like that. I... I work at Tsang. I used to be like you, y''know? Used to think life wasn''t worth living, and if death was coming, I may as well embrace it. Took a bath with some spare razor blades for my arms, and now here I am, cursed to live forever and only under the Tsang banner. But... I think I could help you. Please, let''s talk just for a little bit, ok? If you don''t like my offer, I''ll drive away and leave you to it. I won''t stop you. But if I can keep you alive... It''s my duty as a human being to try, right?"


    That last sentence was like driving a metal probe into the brain of a lunatic, the lobotomizing effect mimicked on Purity''s emotions. Her rage stilled and simmered, down to a manageable sense of curiosity, even empathy. Her expression softened as well, the wrinkled edges of eyes once squinting in anger fading in an instant to return to a soft and somber gaze. Her lips parted to try and speak, but no words came for moments, nearly a minute - the longest minute of Purity''s life up until that point. Then, she nodded, her still-natural head of brown hair immediately worsening its already tousled state as locks flew about from the enthusiasm.


    "Fine. We''ll talk for a bit. Just a bit, ok? And... And yeah. Thank you. I''m Purity, by the way. Yes, that''s my given name, my parents were really religious and loved virtue names like Chastity and Faith."


    The peep-hole regained speed once again, moving in double-time through the details of what turned out to be a fairly long discussion. The man, whose name she learned was Alex, was a newly-minted executive at Tsang - he worked at an IRE site, but management from above had informed everyone of a need for new hires to fill an important role in the medical field. Alex didn''t know the details for sure, but it had to do with offering reproductive assistance or furthering Tsang''s mastery of genetic manipulation, helping to improve the future generations of second-living. No experience was required, and they were looking for humans specifically, ones in Purity''s age bracket - it came with fair pay, allowed a flexible schedule, and benefits included medical, dental, and room and board. It was as though someone above had head Purity''s silent prayers, her desperate inquiries to the divine, and decided to grant her a little blessing, a miracle even.


    Nowadays she knew better. Men in a small black SUV came to pick her up an hour later, and they drove in silence until they reached Tsang Solutions HQ, whereupon she was shuffled unceremoniously out of the vehicle and in through a back door hidden in an alleyway. Brief flashes of the mazelike corridors beneath Tsang HQ flitted by as if a slideshow set to fast forward, until they arrived at a heavy iron door labeled ''LAB 06'' in a plastic plaque across its mechanized face. The door opened wide and in they went, into a world of pristine, sterile white tiling, centrifuges, and those smaller cold-wombs used for genetic tampering and physical alteration of still-living parties.


    She didn''t leave Lab 06 for a month or more, the days speeding by in an instant, and when it finally came she had been altered irrevocably: new eyes lined with LED contacts which ensured perfect vision, a full set of new teeth grown in a tailor-made organ vat, additional fat deposits for her breasts and thighs and ass and lips, and ''preferential augmentations'' to her orifices. Her skin was silky smooth, too, but that would require upkeep - flensing someone was a lengthy process, and one that took months for the replacement skin to grow anew. Purity, however, had other work to do. A new body required testing and training, and that''s exactly what she was subjected to.


    Speech patterns. Body language. Gestures, techniques, and eventually, bodily movements as a whole. How to move her hips, how to move her lips, how to flex what needed flexing, say what needed saying, perceive what begged perception... And then, her mission: to gather the vaguely-named ''genetic material'', though no one was unsure what the implication was. Many times she tried to run, and many times she ended up with tranquilizer in her veins and a guard dragging her back to the jail cell she was given as a bedroom. From one Hell to another, from homelessness to prostitution. Every day she thought about ending it as she looked in the mirror - every single day, she thought about how she could set herself aflame, or drink strong acid, or get her hands on silver. But without opportunities presenting themselves, she knew even if she killed herself somehow, they would never let all this effort go to waste. She would simply be pressed into the same work at the end of a gun, not in exchange for a paycheck.


    As she received her assignment, she was introduced as well to her handler: a woman with long, sleek black hair like waves of ink falling from the inkwell, eyes a deep crimson of gemlike shade, and tanned skin that spoke of Eastern descent, likely to the south. But her smile was the most notable thing about her, the thing that stuck out in Purity''s mind: ivory white and immaculate, unbroken, with golden plating about the upper fangs. A display of wealth and power, no doubt, given the woman''s personality. The meeting was brief, but even now, two and some years later, Purity knew she would recognize the woman in a heartbeat - they never spoke face-to-face again, it was true, but the aura of sadism and dominance she exuded was nearly stifling.


    And then, the peep-hole of memory began to close, just as Purity drew to a close in the waking world. Esper James''s reactions in real-time helped to draw the pinkette''s curator out of those winding halls of distant, repressed memory, and soon, every part of her conscious thought had returned to the present time as if awoken from a terrible nightmare. She became vaguely aware of the tears welling in the corners of her eyes, ruining her already ruined makeup even further, but also taking note of Esper James taking a stand. Then came the blessed embrace, the touch of the other woman, the comfort and care so desired after such a deep plunge into one''s devastation and trauma. It took Purity some time before she could even return the hug, but not out of apathy - no, she was simply relishing the moment, reveling in the sensation of her maybe-lover''s touch.


    EJ always smelled so good. The lukewarm touch of her skin, the scent of blood eternally on her breath, the aroma of sleep and sweat she could never seem to shake, each was a comfort to Purity. In truth, in her years in Vitus, especially those last few, she had developed something of a taste for the second-living. Most mortals didn''t prefer them, or even think of them romantically or sexually, but in due course of her forced profession, she had grown accustomed to them to the point of preference. To touch living flesh was... repulsive now, save for her own. To consider anything sensual was a first-living was nauseating. To love one, though? To bare her heart to a fellow mortal, to release her emotions to one who had yet to feel the pain of death, to lay herself bare for them in all senses? It was as vile to her as the thought of eating bile.


    And so, there was also truth in what she said about Esper James. ''Love'' was not yet there, despite what she said, but genuine affection was: the prelude to love, the emotional calm before a romantic storm. She meant it when she said she saw Esper James as a way out from all of this, every last bit of it, and that had truthfully inspired a burst of desperation within the lab-made party girl. All she had to do was get EJ back in the sack one more time, to show her what Purity could do for her, to win her heart all over again... and then send that mailbomb to the woman with the gold fangs and be free forever. Free to live how she wanted, where she wanted, how she wanted - she had dreamt of moving away for a long time, of finding a different town in the UNAC to start a new life with a second-living lover to keep her company. Hell, fuck the lover idea if it didn''t work out - sex was a thing she had had far too much of for one lifetime, though she could make exceptions if it came up.


    She''d ask Esper James to marry her. Yeah, that would work. The little ghoulette needed someone just as badly as Purity did, not for the same reasons, but in the same way. They were compatible, right? And maybe her contacts in the Knights could work something out, help the pair of them disappear forever from Vitus and its tyrants. She''d probably need to do a little footwork for them in exchange, but that was a price worth paying. The idea made her smile sadly at both its tantalizing nature and also its impossibility. Maybe things could just go right for once, could just work out, and then she would be able to have a life of her own. It didn''t need to be a glamorous life, or a life with many additional trappings, but anything was better than the life she had been thrust into.


    And then, the knock on the door. The shooting. The stabbing. Each came in the blink of an eye, one after another, the glimmer of hope in her heart fading like a dying candle even as she plunged the knife into the pair''s shared aggressor, making sure to target non-vital regions of the torso so it was torturous and slow. Standing up, she was snapped into action mode, head snapping over to her little murderer playmate - and as she nonverbally acknowledged the blood now covering her outfit, a single thought pierced the cloud of tumult and rage in her mind.


    Why couldn''t things ever just go right for her?

 Act Two (Ch. 30) - Keine Lust; or, Excuses Excused

    Oh shit. Esper James''s adrenal glands found another burst of hormones to pump into her veins as the text''s truth, and its implications, began to set in. Like a junkie in a delusional episode she felt her body freeze and lash out simultaneously, muscles frozen, locomotion stilled, but mind screaming at her as her pupils dwindled to pinpricks and her veins throbbed from a sudden blood rush. It was euphoric and abhorrent in equal parts: dredging up memories of their date together and the night that followed, but then the rest of the night as well, and even further, Judas''s rage and sadistic inclinations. Esper James had shot a Tsang employee less than an hour ago. How could she ever explain that to her boss? To the cruel, demanding vampire whose favor she relied upon for further employment? Would that employment even be possible anymore?


    She cried out in despair as her racing synapses considered her scant few options, neurons firing like automatic weaponry as she tried to come up with what to do next. Mentally, she had been completely taken out of their little escape plan, and so Purity had to drag her along with what strength the mere mortal had remaining, keeping the three of them moving up and out of the secondary hatch. They were met with the dwindling midday light as they arose, the scent of smog now tinged with the scent of something burning. Looking up at the Kehler Complex, on the floor where Esper James''s apartment had been, smoke now rolled out thick and black from a hallway window - it was noxious, and reeked of plastics and synthetics, but the ghoulette could also pick up another undertone: blackened, crisping flesh.


    It was like a crematorium. There were only a few in Vitus, present so that those that had died or wished to die a true-death could be done away with, but even driving or venturing near them left that bitter, lingering odor on the nose to the point of burning it into the brain. Smelling one of the crematoriums, twenty-four hour operations, would never leave one''s mind. And now this? It reeked of the same kind of flesh-being-carbonized smell that crematory ashes had. It only raised her sense of dread, heightened the upflow of terrible nausea and panic in her heart, and she found herself gagging and nearly retching from anxiety as she was pulled along.


    The trio raced down the streets while Esper James considered what to even say to Judas. Kell led the charge, taking the other two into a small, back-alley butchery about a block and a half away, silently thankful that Vitus allowed open carry gun ownership for its citizens due to rising personal safety concerns in the last decade or so. It wouldn''t even raise anyone''s eyes to see the three of them jogging about with weapons drawn unless they went to make hostilities with them. And so in they slipped, past waist-depth red linen curtains adorned with kanji with meant ''HOT FOOD'', small cherry blossom embroideries underlining the hem of the cloth sheets.


    The butchery was practically empty within, the only patron sitting alone with an enormous bowl of mystery-meat ramen half-slurped in front of him. The interior was a rather spartan affair, overall: five small tables all sat approximately three feet off the ground, with low seats on either side of them, and the floor and walls were tile-lined till halfway up the wall with miniscule whiteish-blue clay squares. Only a few red paper lamps hung from the ceiling as decoration, the rest of the lighting coming from bare bulbs hanging on bare wires, the paper lanterns sitting on either side of a long bar-like construction, complete with hard plastic stools, on the far end of the room.


    As the trio pushed inside, a bell could be hear jingling in the distance. Kell took up position aiming at the curtains they had entered through while they awaited service, the other two women instinctively moving further in, Esper James finally beginning to actually type something with her shaky fingers while Purity urged her forward. After some agonizing seconds of silent waiting, the lone patron trying to ignore the three distressed women entering the butchery, a man in white chef''s attire with a stain-riddled apron and limp toque pushed into the dining room from the plastic double-doors that led to the kitchen. He began to break into a welcoming spiel, but upon seeing who it was he was welcoming, his demeanor shifted from casual workday relaxation to a subtly hunched stance of action.


    He stood at around five foot and ten inches, a chef''s knife in his hand, his physique toned but not quite broad or muscular. From his appearance alone, with pallid skin and eyes which were softly milky, his second-living nature was revealed - and when he spoke, his mouth full of normal molars and teeth dedicated to the crushing of bone and grinding of stubborn gristle made his zombified nature plain. Otherwise, his hair was a sandy blonde, and a light goatee of little more than stubble lined his frankly desiccated lips. Milky brown eyes looked straight at Kell, barely even registering the other two women.


    "Oi! Kell! What''s wrong? Come on, come on, get yourselves back into the kitchen, we''ll talk there. C''mon, I''ve got some boxes I need help moving." His tone was measured to be that of an angry superior, a boss shouting at a subordinate to hop to work, to quit slacking. In truth, it was likely for that lone customer''s benefit that he even put up that level of pretense. Kell nodded in affirmation, now moving to hustle her other associates back behind the counter of the bar and through the plastic doors to the kitchen. The zombie himself didn''t even move, going instead to take up a casual elbows-propped position on the bartop, to try and look as though it was just another day at work. The lonely patron loudly slurped wheat-based noodles at their table, eyes fixated on the dark brown broth and floating chunks of hot meat within.


    Once within the kitchen, a crude affair that certainly wouldn''t pass any health inspections, Kell gestured towards a trio of stacked boxes in the corner. "C''mon! We''ve gotta move these. Get them away from the wall. Don''t worry about him; he''ll be fine. We''ve got to fucking go, though." Further explanation was eschewed in favor of action - Kell''s shotgun being placed upon a metal prep-table so that her hands were free to move the boxes, Purity swiftly joining her, not even attempting to shake Esper James out of her funk so that the ghoulette might help. For all the pinkette knew, Esper James could be going catatonic - refusing to move, refusing to think, the stress of today all finally bearing down on her. It was something Purity was familiar enough with, going through it himself, and so she had some empathy for the blonde''s situation.


    For EJ''s part, she was still struggling to even think of what to say, only a few words typed out on the screen of her phone. Slowly, steadily, she began to force herself to make further progress: to actually say something to her superior. To the woman who had broken her down for all these years, mentally for most of them, physically doing so only recently. "Hey Jude. I talked to HR, took a day of unscheduled off-time because I feel sick today. I''ll see you tomorrow." - EJPW. She hit send, the message only sitting for a few seconds on unread before that little ellipsis of indication that someone was responding popped up. Esper James''s eyes remained fixated on the screen of her phone, a dry, painful retch of substanceless nausea causing her already roiling stomach to do a backflip within her abdomen.


    "EJ, that''s fine. I''m just wondering where you are because I heard through the grapevine that shots were fired within your housing complex. Are you ok, you little trouble magnet? Send me a picture, let me know you''re still good; if not, I''ll send some guys over to keep you safe." - J. ALIGHIERI. Once again EJ was stricken by how sweet Judas had become with her, how caring she had recently turned, how benevolent. It was a welcome change in the blonde''s mind, one that kept her both grounded and sent her already floating brain straight into space. Was Judas the one who had send the Property Reclamation officer to her apartment in the first place? Was it out of concern for her wellbeing, to try and keep her safe from some unknown threat? Kehler Complex had been at the center of some serious stuff recently, and Esper James doing a no-call no-show was very unlike her.


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    EJ''s fingers moved more rapidly now, the active reply spurring her to engage Judas more directly. "Sure. Gimme a second to get the lighting right. I''m out to eat right now, but I did hear the gunshot as I was leaving." The message was sent and then the pressure to produce an accompanying picture was turned up: How could EJ get a picture that looked even a little like she was in her apartment and not fucking freaking out in the middle of a strange new environment? She settled on something after only a moment of consideration, the need to produce proof outweighing the need to make it convincing. She leaned back over one of the metal prep-tables, head laid against the cool, flat surface, her phone producing a small camera snap as she took a selfie. She had tried to smile. It looked like shit, and she still had bits of beef from her lunch caught between her teeth, but that made it more convincing?


    She sent the picture, setting her phone to sleep mode and putting it back into her pocket. Right on time, actually - Purity was just about to walk over to grab her, Kell having just finished moving the final box aside. A small hole, only a foot or two high, had been carved away in the wall - far smaller than the boxes of produce which had once concealed it, and the hole was pitch dark. Kell rushed over to grab her shotgun off the table as Purity took Esper James by the wrist, dragging her over towards their escape tunnel. "EJ, c''mon! We''ve gotta fuckin'' go! Whoever you''re texting can wait, it''s not more important than your life!" Purity''s reprimand was meaningful and caring, but still, she had no idea who she was talking about. Judas was not the type of woman who one should keep waiting.


    EJ was allowed to go first this time, getting on hands and knees, the dirt and grime of the tunnel immediately marking her clothing as she awkwardly crawled forth. It reminded her of the Chateau Nocturne in a way: headed forward into endless darkness, only her heightened senses to guide her, wandering through the everblack with only touch and scent to keep her from faltering. Behind her came Purity, a comforting presence in a discomforting situation, but still, it wasn''t much compared to the foreboding passage they were slowly making their way through. The sound of Kell entering the tunnel, her shotgun scraping against the rough concrete walls, marked the final member of their procession joining in.


    After almost a minute straight of crawling, Esper James finally emerged into a cold and dark room, still pitch black, now containing an aura of chill that was nearly freezing in its frigidity. Purity came next, instinctively throwing her arms around EJ and pulling her close into a one-sided hug as they awaited Kell, and then finally, Kell joined them. When their third made her way into the lightless room, she rose to a stand judging by the sound of her shoes, and a light switch was flicked - the once unlit tomb of a room was plunged into the hateful radiance of fluorescent tubes set into the ceiling, revealing the entirety of the room to the trio.


    They stood in a garage. A very normal-looking garage, to be blunt. A metal rack with tools sat to one side; a few spare tires hung upon the wall, above bright red gasoline cans; in the center sat a singular delivery van, a catering van from the looks of it, plain white with the words ''BENSON CHU''S FOOD FOR YOU'' emblazoned on the sliding side-door in bright orange letters, surrounded by a messy starburst of red made to resemble a paint splotch. The driver''s side was already occupied, from the looks of it: a big man with sandy blonde hair and a white uniform sat within, not quite the same as the man who had been in the kitchen, but close enough to be siblings. He awoke from the nap he had been taking with a start and a bit of flailing, but turning over to see Kell, he gestured towards the sliding door nearest to the trio.


    Kell wasted no time in grabbing it and throwing it wide, opening it for the two other women to hop right in. The interior was all hard metal and no additional seats, though a few large boxes of tablecloths could be found within. "Get in the boxes! Pull tablecloths over yourself. If we get stopped for a check or something, they won''t check a box full of linens. Go!" Kell motioned for the other two women to get in with the barrel of her shotgun, the black cylinder catching the light of the fluorescents in the ceiling, her emphasis like spurs to the flanks of a pair of horses. Purity nearly shoved Esper James forward, her flagging energy nearly spent, before rushing in alongside her to clamber into one of the boxes.


    EJ followed suit after a moment, and once she was beneath the linens, she pulled her phone back out. She could hear the muffled sounds of Kell hopping in, slamming the door shut, and then climbing into a box of her own. The engine of the vehicle started up with a low rumble which became a roar, and the garage door creaked open with a sound reminiscent of the cacophony of a dying cat. Tires made a crunch as they pushed pebbles aside and ground further small stones into the concrete, and then soon after, into the asphalt. They were on the road. Soon, they would be safe. Soon, they would be free to hide.


    Esper James took this time to text back, seeing that Judas had responded. "Hey EJ, is that a gun? I didn''t know you carried a gun. Are you sure you''re ok? Here, I''ll send some guys over just to ease my own mind. I promise that you can just send them away when they arrive, no worries. Can''t wait to see you tomorrow." - J. ALIGHIERI. The message was capped off with a black emote of a heart, shiny and dark, much like the catsuit Purity wore that first night at the Jezzebelle. The secretary-turned-outlaw''s heart leapt in her throat as she read, eyes once again going wide, the tremble in her petite figure returning to the point she nearly dropped her phone? A gun? What gun? What had Judas seen, she wondered.


    She looked back to the picture she had sent, and indeed, there was a hint of the pump and barrel of Kell''s shotgun at the top of the image, near EJ''s head. Tears welled at the corner of Esper James''s eyes as she drank in every detail of the image: her previously-crying face had reddened eyes, her pallid skin was even clammier-looking than usual, and her hair was a tousled mess. She looked like she had been fucking kidnapped. God, how had she been so stupid? How had all this happened? She punched feebly at the plastic wall of the cramped box she had concealed herself in, unable to bite back bitter sobs of despair and regret, wishing for another time today that she could simply turn back time. Why was life so cruel? Why, after thirty years of second-life within Vitus, and fourty-some overall, had the ageless little blonde finally had love bestowed just for it all to be torn away?


    Purity spoke up then. "So, Kell, right? Why the fuck do you have an escape plan just ready and waiting on contingency? I mean, I appreciate you getting us out of there, but still... Why?" Silence filled the van, the radio not even playing as they hit the freeway, but Kell spoke up after a moment. Both other women quieted down so they could listen.

 Act Two (Ch. 31) - Bad Dream Adventure; or, The Eucharist

    Kell''s voice was brusque now, turned husky with the seriousness of their situation. "Sorry, you two... Fuck. I''m, uh, God, how do I even explain? My friends and I, we hate Tsang. ''Freedom fighters'' sounds fucking stupid. We''re, ah... I guess extremists is more accurate. That sounds scary, though, right? But everyone in this city is getting fucked over by Tsang. Forced to live in a new-world Hell. Work ''til you die, then once you''re dead, go to work forever until you''re cremated in a factory fire." She cleared her throat as silence fell once more.


    The other two women sat in shocked silence. In Esper James''s strained mind, snippets of news articles popped up, mostly internal memos from Tsang itself instead of the more broadly-oriented Vitus Gazette. Suspicions of terrorist interference at various IRE sites across the city, unexplained explosions at some of the smaller pharmaceutical plants that produced FixAte supplements, assassination of various minor executives outside their homes... All across decades, decades of Esper James''s second-life, never two incidents too close together. Last year there had even been a car bombing right outside of Tsang HQ - giving a notable diplomat and his entourage of security goons, as well as a few bystanders, their true-death. They had put a plaque in the asphalt where it happened, in memoriam.


    Purity spoke up first, her tone cheerful - optimistic, even. Excited. "Oh my god, you''re one of those people? Oh, fuck, I wish I could''ve met you sooner! God, I wish I could be like you... Strong enough to act out, you know? Buy a gun, get some silver bullets, ventilate all the motherfuckers who put me here..." She trailed off and away as she fantasized within her box, word muffled through linens and plastic. If her obvious elation was a fa?ade, it was damn believable, at least to Esper James - the little blonde''s feelings on the topic mixed. She ricocheted between relief that Kell apparently wasn''t some kind of double-agent, and apprehension. She was living next to a literal terrorist? The same floor, anyways. If Kell had ever found out that she worked for Tsang, would she have been the next to die?


    Esper James thought back to Kell''s shotgun - likely loaded with silver buckshot.


    The drive continued unabated, only the occasional speed bump or bit of uneven, element-warped roadway managing to break up the monotony of traveling in such utter silence. Each in their own boxes, EJ couldn''t even reach out for one of her friends to help comfort her or calm her down, and breaking the silence with speech came with an ominous sense of foreboding that intimidated her from even trying. She was left isolated despite the people around her, despite the fact that they must have been in the heart of the city, and with isolation came the calming lull of sleep. Nestled within a warren of linen and plastic, brain and body pushed to the point of exhaustion more from her psychosomatic reactions than literal exertion, she began to drift off. And, as had become the norm for her in recent days, she awoke into a dream.


    -


    In her dream she was back at the Jezzebelle again, but the way she wandered in from the streets was all too reminiscent of the first time she had been there. This time it was much colder - she could feel the breeze on her midsection and legs and back, but paid it no mind. Winter was cold, after all. Stepping in past the bouncer, her eyes flitted to the main bar counter to seek out Roth - and she was rewarded with a facsimile of him, yet not quite the same. His flesh was warmer, a darker and more vibrant color; his eyes were less gemlike and were in fact brown now, holding all the light and life of a true-living. When he smiled, his fangs were absent, though his teeth were still just as alabaster as they had always been. He was serving normal drinks, dark brown or fully clear or even the occasional juice-splashed cocktail. It was comforting to see him this way - how he had lived, how he had made his way without the touch of the cold, hateful morgue-wombs.


    EJ opted not to head over for a drink. Even catching sight of someone ordering a bloody Mary, the reddish liquid garnished with a stick of celery, made her queasy. Instead, soft-soled feet stepped in time with the thrumming, bass-heavy industrial towards the bathroom, taking note of an inky sheen to her hand and arm as it entered her vision. Taking hold of the steel bar that acted as a door handle, she threw it aside with a little flourish, the worries of the waking world having long since drained away - if she was here to party, then fuck it, she''d act like it. As the latest anthem from the dancefloor''s howling speakers ran to a close, the ghoulette ducked into the WC.


    Same as before. The whole club was, as far as she could tell so far, and the nagging feeling that something was off was little more than a niggling little thorn in the rearmost reaches of her grey matter. It was only catching her reflection in the bathroom mirror, the dreamlike recreation of how she imagined herself in this moment-out-of-time, that gave her pause. She was still herself - quite diminutive, petite even, but with skin of the softest porcelain white and hair of golden corn silk tone, the tips dyed eternally ebon as the starless sky. Her teeth were sharp as usual, though now, her canines had elongated even further, thickened now. Prominent. Her ego purred within her heart as she saw they were plated with gold.


    Her eyes, too, were that shifting, radiant sheen of the upper class, of her right. She was beautiful now, more beautiful than she had ever felt, more desirable, more powerful. An inner need for dominance flowed through her like magma through the furthest reaches of the Earth''s core, warming her flesh, setting her muscles a-tingle with delight. It was ecstasy: hot and smooth, sluggishly drizzling and congealing across her form like dripped wax, hardening into a solipsistic armor that gave rise to a sense of impenetrable ardor. Hers was the body, the face, the very soul of a goddess made flesh. Her pointed tongue rolled across the inner wall of her teeth as she smiled, the singular piercing within making soft clicks as it impacted enamel.


    More than these changes, these alterations existing mostly in her perception if not her truth, she was clad in an outfit she had never known herself to own. Or rather, a lack thereof. Her arms were clad up to mid-bicep in gloves of a featureless, glossy black material, hugging her like a perfectly-tailored second skin even down to the individual fingers. Her legs were similarly adorned, ebony leggings of that same lustrous material clinging to her flesh up to the upper thigh, toes wrapped but also left free enough to wiggle atop the tiled floor of the washroom. But it was what she wore on her torso that truly shocked and enticed, her wide grin growing even more manic as her eyes rested upon the scant material to be found.


    Bareness as a sacrificial lamb was rampant, hairless and smooth, soft and alluring, free of blemish and void of imperfection. Her modest chest was kept in some distant realm of concealment by two heart-shaped pasties, thin and immodest. They did little to cover the rest of her chest. Her loins, too, were all but bare: thin golden chain sat strung over either hip, meeting in the middle to keep a similarly-glossy loincloth draped over her humility. No one had paid her any mind when she was walking in, at least not any that EJ had noticed; how had she managed to make it all the way to the bathroom in this sort of attire?


    They knew not to fuck with her. That''s what she decided to believe, at least, and with her ego stroked even further by the idea that she was so untouchable that the mere rabble of Vitus wouldn''t gaze upon her form out of fear, fear of retribution, the idea sat well within her ribcage. She spun about on a single slippery heel, turning back to head out of the bathroom, out into the fray once again. Once more into the breach.


    The flashing lights of the Jezzebelle''s dancefloor struck her immediately, the reds and the blues like shafts of light from God''s own kaleidoscope, but her jewellike eyes were little more than merely dazzled by the radiance from above. On the false wind of stale air stirred by tossing, writhing bodies, the scent of alcohol, sweat, and varied enough perfume to choke a person enveloped her. The scent of lust, or so she imagined - the erotic aura for her new temple, the modern incense for an amorous, indiscriminate ritual with a desperate, ravenous congregation. And just as the incense was heady in the air, the sacrament of blessed consumption was being prepared before her.


    Her lustrous eyes roamed to the dancefloor, where clouds of water vapor from fog machines and personal nicotine delivery devices, their own more minor aromas mingling together with the aroma which they were mired in. On the dance floor, throngs of clubgoers gyrated what they could find space to move, the bodies packed so tightly that intimate closeness was all but inevitable. The closeness itself led to further encounters: fangs dragged upon flesh; tongues pressed to mouths, tattoos, piercings; hands slipping up or beneath clothing, fingers into hair, nails digging into thighs or midriffs or necks. It was a quagmire of the pleasures of the flesh, bodies held loosely in sway by the grinding industrial beat of the music, but the main attraction was the touch to be found among the arms of strangers.


    It was just like she remembered it. Her smile was undaunted as she padded forth, soft soles stepping over spilt drinks and discarded trash, proceeding forth onto the dancefloor proper. As she went, slowly but surely, every eye in the building began to peel away from what it had previously been doing and lock upon her fetishized form. Again, that burst of ego all but erupted from her chest in a literal sense: she felt the physical heat and emotional warmth pounding against her heart in double-time, nearly emulating the percussive backing of the song which heralded her arrival. Hand after hand reached out to touch her, to trace her flesh with their own, to feel her softness, her suppleness, her modest curvature - a few more adventurous partiers even gave her a more intimate caress, drawing her blood, fresh and hot, through her veins and down to help lift her loincloth.


    At the center of the congregation, three figures stood in a small clearing, the sight of each of them eliciting such tremors within her scantily clad form that they nearly seemed to be heart palpitations. The attention felt good, for the first time in her life, that simplest of admiration of receiving the affection of strangers was like drinking a thick, rich drug, lacing a further need for the rush of sin and skin-to-skin within her very DNA. But those three? Those sirens who stood watching her, beckoning sweetly, each of them radiating that same warmth EJ''s own body seemed to produce? They were captivating in the utmost, holding the ghoul-born-anew in their rapturous sway, all else dimming and fading into white noise as she eagerly stepped closer.


    Purity Francharde was first: neon bubblegum-pink hair in a classic hime haircut, now nearly liquid in its smooth and unbroken flow, catching the light within the flashing bulbs above to display a rare sheen. Her outfit was bridal, in a sense: a pair of ivory lace gloves dotted with embroidered cherry blossoms, her torso concealed beneath a lavishly detailed leotard of that same material and colour, a keyhole carved into the chest of it in the shape of a large heart. Her legs were clad in black hosen, all the way up to hide their origin beneath the snowy lands of the leotard''s depths, and her feet were tucked away neatly into similarly alabaster boots of a particularly neo-Gothic style: full of straps and buckles and shine, made almost wholly from PVC, dazzlingly clean within the dancefloor''s miasma.


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    Her whole body was dazzling to the ghoulette as well: buxom, flawless flesh for the eye to devour as an appetizer, the sensation of the main course hinted at by the immaculate bareness which she presented. Her eyes were still those LED hearts, bright and pink, and her lips were plump and painted the shade of a flamingo in heat. Where the touch of the crowd had put the key in EJ''s ignition, seeing Purity there - dressed for a wedding, rife with bridal lace and embroidery, eyes locked upon her and filled with such affection, such amorousness... Her loincloth ruffled below the dancefloor din as she twitched, not even noticing the new fangs that Purity bore, the thickened canines of that perfect white.


    Next was Judas, or the woman she assumed was Judas. Her skin was healthier, more vibrant, fuller and more luscious - and that skin which lay bare was more present than ever before. Judas stood in military dress, ebony and with a waterproof coating, red ribbons and golden tassles completing the mark of Tsang upon her figure. Her very presence let off a menacing aura, a background swell of psionic influence radiating from her like fallout from a nuclear detonation. Her gloved hands held a single riding crop in their grasp, the lone weapon for a desperate soldier''s last stand, and as EJ approached her Judas used it to point at EJ and then at the center of the clearing, where all three women would be able to surround her.


    Judas was always stunning, but now? As a true-living, the vibrance of her flesh and form were powerful, driving Esper James''s heart into the dust like a mining drill gone rogue. She felt her very cells crying out to be Judas''s toy, to throw herself between the two women, to be loved sweetly and purely by Purity, to be treated so poorly and cruelly by Judas. She would have reveled in either decision. EJ felt her smile wavering as new emotions welled in the thermostat of her desire, bubbling up from stomach to sternum and tickling at her lower jaw, her eyes drifting between focused and blissful blur as she considered what a perfect life that would be. Having nearly reached the trio of women, she was snapped from her daydream by the sound of a cleared throat - and the sensation of a hand on her shoulder.


    Esthrielle was here, too. Her appearance was, for lack of a better word, fuzzier than the others: her face and body were smooth and appealing, her synthetic muscles exciting, her cool shock of stark white hair too exotic to deny. When she smiled, her mouth was filled with those same steel fangs as before, but now more akin to a ghoul''s - more akin to a Vitus native in general, that is. As her smile turned to laugher, Esper James could see that her tongue was thicker but pointed as well - like that of a ghoul''s. Maybe Est had decided to go native, seeing the mercy that Esper James had shown her, and accepted her new second-life?


    The thought of that possibility filled EJ''s heart with a newfound, unexplainable, frankly worrying sense of joy.


    Est was dressed as those in the East were said to dress in their free time: long black robes with white adornment, long gloves, a smattering of beads in a pocket, and a cross necklace of real silver hung from her neck, identical to the one Judas usually wore. The entire outfit from the stockings to the habit was of that similar clingy material as EJ''s own outfit, her mind having run out of ideas to entice her further - but none such effort was needed. EJ''s confident, dominant stride had been lovingly broken by the mere gesture which now linked both women, Esthrielle going to hold EJ up, tucking her arms between EJ''s underarms and keeping her aloft.


    The three women stared down at Esper James, making no qualms about how openly they were undressing her with their eyes, making passionate, selfish love to her in their minds¡¯ eye. EJ twitched again, her eyes wide and doelike, so very eager to please. Eager to be pleased, sure, but now with these three women whom she knew and actually felt some kind of connection to... She would do anything for their approval. Kill a thousand, break a million, raze down Vitus if she had to. So desperately did she feel this throughput of emotional trauma and its natural progression, she didn''t even stop to think why she wanted their love so badly.


    Words were unimportant. As if on some unseen, unheard cue, Judas stepped to one side and then leaned in - her free hand took EJ by the throat, applying pressure to either side, not enough to fully constrict her airflow but more than enough to lighten her pretty little head. The executive-turned-officer''s thin lips were bestowed as well, greeting the blonde with the sweet tingle of some sort of lip-gloss that EJ''s brain was too tired to put more detail into. The officer''s cap on Judas''s head touched down gently upon EJ''s forehead as the two locked lips, shading the pair from the lights overhead, immersing the secretary in the physical ecstasy of the moment.


    Her eyes shut after a mere moment of tongue-to-tongue, her own quickly becoming entangled with that of her boss. The taste of rum was distant but present, mingling with the sugary tingle of the lip-gloss, giving their oral caress an alcoholic aftertaste. Judas''s other hand came up to the back of EJ''s head, holding her there, reinforcing that she was in control - no matter how far Esper James had come, no matter what she did, Judas was there to keep her in line. There was a sickening sort of comfort in that, just knowing that escape was futile, and obedience was rewarded.


    The dazed, love-hazed blonde became vaguely aware of a pair of lips at her chest, followed quickly by the steely sharps that lay below. Esthrielle was nibbling at her, dragging new fangs across that soft, vulnerable skin, making Esper James''s body shiver with delight and anticipation. One of the pasties was peeled back and contemplated for a moment before being spat onto the floor below, unnecessary for what was to come. The flesh beneath was immediately set upon - lips and teeth, tongue and spit, the hot breath of the foreigner landing like gentle love-letters as she began to pant against EJ''s torso.


    Est''s hands went up to her prey''s back, helping Judas to hold her still - to immobilize her, in a way, keeping her from getting away. Escape was not an option, and while both of these women held EJ in their sway, there was no chance at slipping free. Not that the ghoulette wanted to, of course - getting this attention, this love in her mind, was exactly what she wanted and needed. The other patrons of the club had long since faded to background noise as she was set upon by the trio, Purity the last to join the performance, but not for lack of enthusiasm.


    EJ felt the loincloth slip aside, the golden chain slung around her hips adjusted by a lace-clad hand, the womanhood beneath the glossy drape now graced with Purity''s touch. Lipstick began to smear along bared flesh almost immediately, leaving clear but messy rings of bubblegum-pink - not that anyone could see them, of course, aside from Purity herself. The trio''s embrace of their little lamb was far too claustrophobic in its intimacy to be penetrated by the eyes of onlookers, at least not in a meaningful way. The best they would be able to get was just how aggressive the trio were in their possessive command of their petite plaything.


    EJ whimpered delightedly into the hungry crevasse of Judas''s mouth, body alight with pleasure, the music and sound of the now unseen crowd keeping her mind in a state of numb acceptance - of joy, of submission, of release. She was loved. She felt it in every little touch, every last caress, every tender kiss both above and below. She nearly cried out as those sharpened metal fangs left bite marks upon her bare chest, drawing her subconscious even deeper into their union, all the way until they bit slightly... too hard.


    EJ''s eyes snapped open, mind still dreaming but body more than receptive to imagined stimulus, just as something hard and stiff and icy-cold entered her ribcage, sending a cascade of adrenaline through her all-too-accepting system. A long knife protruded now from the secretary''s torso, slipped between her upper ribs, the hilt of it held firm within Est''s grasp. As for the recipient of the blade, her mind was a whirl: wondering why she had been stabbed, wondering why Est had betrayed her trust, wondering what was going on. The pain of it was mingled with raw, electric, burning pleasure, Purity''s work leaving a pink ring as a souvenir upon the hilt of the ghoul''s own weapon. This, too, was followed with a breaking of the skin: Purity drove her own knife up into EJ''s stomach with a free hand, giggling through a full mouth, winking up at her conspirators and their target.


    Esper James struggled to draw breath, no longer participating in her kiss with Judas, her tongue stationary even as her boss''s own took conquest of the blonde''s mouth. However, she instinctively attempted to draw herself away as ivory touched down upon defenseless pink flesh - Judas drew blood as she bit down on EJ''s tongue, splitting it in twain, quick to swallow the freshly butchered meat. Spraying blood filled their shared mouths as Judas kept herself close to her toy, still holding her head in that iron grip, still invading EJ orally if only to lap at and drink down her gushing red.


    There was a repulsive sound of breaking skin and shifting meat as Judas''s riding crop, now a blade, slipped in near EJ''s collarbones. The pain of it all was deafening, the adrenaline in EJ''s ear muffling all music, and her newly-opened eyes could see that there was no one else in the nightclub anymore. The four of them were alone, a pack of wolves and the doe they had taken, hands still roving greedily even as the knives stuck from a previously perfect torso. Blood had begun to pool on the floor below them, streaming down in crimson tears from the wounds on EJ''s torso, marring her legs, loins, and chest with the scarlet tinge of cannibalism.


    Esthrielle was the first to take a bite, her steely maw rending tender flesh from bone, flensing skin from muscle, taking a mouthful of the helpless girl which she held in hand. Purity came soon after, taking sustenance from unprotected thigh meat, gulping it down greedily before giggling up at her dinner. Judas kept gulping down blood for now, keeping EJ pressed to her lips, too powerful for the blonde''s scrabbling hands to push away. The strength which had so saturated EJ''s form only moments ago was already draining away, leaving in its wake only powerlessness. Only a weak sense of distress, the adrenaline in her veins keeping her aware, but the sudden and extreme blood loss numbing her mind.


    More and more was taken from her, bite after bite, slices of a beautiful cake baked for three. Judas had finally joined the fray: her alabaster fangs shearing free the filling of EJ''s right cheek first, then drawing off sections of her neck and shoulders, consuming her just as wholly - just as heartily - as her companions. In seconds that felt like years, EJ was being reduced from flesh to bone.


    Tears welled hotly and with a dreadful sense of familiarity within her eyes. She was out of strength to fight back, her lungs had been pierced and so she lacked the air to scream, and even with the light of recognition in their eyes, the women who preyed upon her continued to eat and take as they pleased. She was doomed to this; she had no way out, no way to even scream or plead, and without her tongue, no way to beg for mercy. This would be the end of things.


    Eventually, she was left to drop to the floor - her legs no longer strong enough to remain standing, and Est''s grip had been foregone in preference of pinching and ripping free choice cuts of meat. As EJ''s head landed with a hard crack against the now-wet dancefloor, bleary eyes drifting their focus to try and find some sort of salvation, Purity went to straddle her. A lace-clad finger was pressed to EJ''s lips to keep her silent, even though there was no way she could protest in the first place.


    "Good girl. You''re such a good little girl, EJ. You tasted so good... and I bet you''ll taste even better the next time, heheh~"


    Purity drew her knife free of Esper James''s body, putting it up to the ghoulette''s left eye along the bottom eyelid. She wound her hand back to strike the pommel, to drive it in, and EJ couldn''t help but let tears fall as the blow came...


    -


    But then it didn''t. She awoke with a start and a scream, face dripping with sleep-spent tears, the linens above her soaked with sobbing and drool. Her whole body was atremble, the security that the box she was crammed in had once held now completely ripped away by the machinations of her dreams. She felt like shit, every muscle aching, every bone crying out in muted agony - a brief inspection by cellular flashlight revealed she hadn''t sustained any of the injuries from her dream, but she felt them still. Even in the waking world, she couldn''t escape.


    She began to cry aloud, sobbing as openly as one could when hidden within a crate, letting her emotions pour free until the lid of the box was removed. She became aware then that they weren''t actually moving; wherever they were, they were stationary. Her tears, however, were ceaseless - only broken for a moment when a pair of hands reached down and drew her up and out. It made her think briefly back to the duffel bag, to the touch of the ice, to the pain of that wakefulness.


    It was Purity then, and it was Purity now. They seemed to be in a break room of some kind, but long-since abandoned. A few sleeping bags lay rolled-out on the floor, and from the shade of the room, it was nighttime. Or maybe the lights just didn''t work. Purity pulled the ghoulette close, even against her dream-spawned struggling and protests, the pair of them sharing a one-sided embrace. Purity sighed compassionately as EJ began to rant and rave, crying out for help or for mercy from Purity. Purity simply shook her head, brushing EJ''s face with some of that bubblegum hair.


    "You sounded like you were having a really bad dream, boo... I''m here for you now. I''ll keep you safe and comfy, ok? We can go back to sleep, get cozy, and Kell will explain some more stuff tomorrow. This is a safe place, though. Tsang would never check here. Deep breaths - now, c''mere. Let me hold you."

 Act Two (Ch. 32) - Whats In A Dream?; or, Transactionality

    As before, in what was quickly becoming an all-too-familiar sequence of events, the fugitive secretary allowed herself to be swallowed up into Purity''s arms. She flinched as if struck, initially - the addling of the dreams had yet to fully relinquish its grip upon her fevered mind, but as her keen senses were reminded of Purity''s touch, of her scent, the inner EJ took control and forced herself to calm. It had just been a dream, after all, or so she told herself. None of it had been real. Purity and Judas would never dare do something so... cruel. So vile. So heinous. Est, maybe, but the other two? Judas had never come close to such direct physical abuse, even during their night together, no flesh had been taken. She doubted it ever would.


    But that was the third such dream she had been visited by in recent days: dreams involving her own death, her own dismemberment, her own unmaking. The true death that some small part of her longed for, the final curtain call that most second-living grew to desire in some nihilistic way - it was borne of the depression and futility which came from an endless life of toil, and yet... There was comfort in the option. Comfort that one could live forever, and opt out when they felt that they had spent enough time in the mortal world. Cremation was painless, or so the ads said - they sedated you so heavily that it would kill a first-living, and then roasted you in flames hot enough to melt your flesh and kill your nerves in seconds even if you did wake up. The freedom of nonexistence was always there to reach out and take.


    Esper James squeezed her eyelids down hard, squeezing the thoughts of facilitated suicide from her mind like stray grapes in a decommissioned wine press. The dreams she had been having weren''t about cremation, nor were they about dying peacefully nor willingly: they had been painful, and terrifying, and abhorrent. From drowning cold and alone in the middle of the ocean, to being pierced by hateful, vengeful silver, and last night, having three women she knew personally eat her alive and stab her to death, these weren''t her normal nocturnal visitations by the specter of final death. As she began to drift back to sleep, body cushioned by the woman beside her and the synthetic stuffing of the sleeping bag they occupied, she wracked her brain for any kind of meaning.


    Her thoughts turned first to stress, as likely a candidate as any. She had been so stressed recently, even in those few days where everything felt like it was going right - where it felt like she was having fun. She had been stressed for literal decades, to be fair, and even then it had never really been like this. There had always been the safety of knowing what was happening tomorrow, always knowing approximately what was in store for her, but nowadays she was filled with doubt and fear about what lay in store for her with the coming of every new evening. It was exhausting to her, and she had found herself regretting so much of what had led her to this point.


    "Fuck." She couldn''t hold the exclamation back, resentment pooled deep in the abyss of her heart envenoming the single word. Through closed eyes she could feel Purity shift to look down at her, but she pinkette said nothing; she simply pulled Esper James tighter to herself, and EJ was reluctantly grateful for it. Being able to rest her head against Purity''s chest was comforting - it could have been anyone''s chest, truthfully, but Purity was who she had, and so she would make do.


    She wondered silently if the dreams would only get worse from here on out. If things continued the way they were, with herself and the only person who seemed to really care for her (an idea she was still somewhat skeptical of) on the lam, she worried that all she''d eventually be able to hold onto were her nightmares and her pessimism. Even the people around her were transient and ephemeral; there was no guarantee that anyone she knew would stay by her side, willingly or unwillingly. Even Judas, who had held her in sadomasochistic tidal lock for the majority of her time on this earth, may toss her aside like a broken toy. That was, of course, if Judas would even take her back after EJ''s recent moment of rebellion against Tsang - perhaps her superior had already been informed, and would cease contact and leave EJ to her fate.


    Where once there would have only been sorrow and regret, a newfound, indignant rage swelled with the heat of an active crematorium oven. Purity whimpered softly as if in response, but EJ didn''t even register it initially. If she had, she would have thought that maybe Purity deserved it for dragging her into all this. The blonde''s thoughts turned to rueful, vindictive trails of idea: that maybe love was bullshit and she was stupid for having wanted it; that maybe Tsang was in the right for abusing the citizens of Vitus, because the average person was a stupid sheep anyways; that maybe she should just call Judas, tell her where they were, and be done with it. Purity could broker a deal or something to keep from dying. Kell and her friends could just fight their way out, or die with weapons in their hands. EJ could try and get some brownie points for helping root out anti-corporate extremists in the heart of Vitus. EJ wins, everyone else draws, ideally.


    Only when Purity whimpered again, yelping involuntarily from sharp pain, did EJ realize she had been digging her fingernails into Purity''s torso. Hers were not quite the claws that Judas had been able to conjure some nights ago, but they weren''t exactly down to the nailbed, either. The ghoulish girl released the white-knuckle grip she had been subjecting the taller woman to, hearing a sigh of relief in exchange; she found herself relieved by it. Calm began to cool the raging flame of her indignity, and as it did, she found her eyes opening so she could gaze up at her opposite.


    "Purity? You said you loved me, right? We''ve only known each other for, like, a week... And I''m still mad at you, to be honest, but I know I won''t be mad forever. And... And I need that love, just like you do. I want to love you too, even if I can''t get past everything else. So, let''s make a d-deal, I guess." EJ swallowed hard, her red-flecked irises and the pupils they housed taking a momentary vacation from Purity''s face to gaze at the concrete wall nearest the pair. Her words were part truth: she did want to love Purity. After the time they had spent together, their second date, if you could call it a date? It would have been so easy. Things need have only continued on as they were, and she would have loved Purity like a flower loves the sun, like a flame loves gasoline. She wished it could have been so simple.


    Purity was in rapt attention now, the words and the pain of the previous death-grip sweeping sleep from her as one sweeps spent casings from a shooting gallery. The human''s face turned downwards to gaze intently at her cool-skinned bedfellow, lips unmoving so that EJ might continue her thoughtflow unhindered. "The deal is that, if we decided to try, then no more bullshit. No more lies. No more deception. I... I can''t take any more. We''re in way too deep at this point, a-and you really hurt my trust in you, but... But you''re also the closest thing to real, genuine love I''ve e-ever had. So I can''t help but want to try. Ok?" Esper James''s serious tone was untainted by her growing sense of self-loathing at her inability to get the thoughts out without stuttering timidly. She stared up at Purity then - unblinking, unmoving, waiting for an answer. Her eyes began to sting a few seconds in as Purity, taken aback, thought it over.


    Finally, having pondered it for nearly a minute, Purity sighed and then let free a burst of mirthful chuckling, her tone the intermingling of amusement and resignation as she replied. "Okay, EJ. I agree to your terms. No more bullshit, no more lies... No more selfishness. It''s something we''ll do together, something we can make happy if we both try. Maybe if we can get out of the city, out to the countryside... Maybe we can have a little life for ourselves. Together." Purity capped off the sentence with a tender kiss planted atop Esper James''s browline, right as brow became forehead. EJ bit her cheek to keep from shivering at the gesture; it still made her feel a sort of twinkle within her heart, a puff of glitter in an empty room, a splash of color across a blank canvas.


    Purity''s acceptance of the terms and conditions of Esper James''s love brought all the satisfaction of a pop-up notification of a completed task, however. It didn''t carry the emotional weight that the blonde had been expecting, even anticipating, and she was left feeling hollowed-out and dispassionate. Frustrated with herself, too - for decades she had dreamed of a moment like this, of a beautiful woman cradling her fondly, confessing her love, open to boundaries and respectful of the secretary''s need for communication and honesty. It was like a dream. So why didn''t it feel like a dream? If anything, it was only a bump in the road, a small moment of reprieve from the dismal spiral of her life.


    She couldn''t help but think of Judas as she squeezed Purity tighter, at least able to make that most meagre of concessions to try and show her feigned elation. Judas was cruel to her, yes... Physically, and somewhat mentally, and still. She had known Judas for the vast majority of her second-life, and the care she had recently displayed was enough to cast a shadow of doubt over her true intentions. But those were thoughts for a different time, and honestly, a different place. She was here, now, with a woman who claimed honestly and directly that she loved EJ. That should be good enough, or so EJ told herself. She could be happy with Purity.


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    And so the pair held one another close as sleep returned, slow to take but once its hold was established neither was roused, even when Kell returned with a takeout box in one hand and a fat orange pill-bottle in the other. Esper James snapped free of slumber''s covetous clutches almost immediately once the aroma of the nourishment hit her nostrils: hot and fatty, buttery and savory, the tempting tingle of some underlying heat like a flame in the undercroft of her senses. She could taste the MSG in the air as soon as her watering mouth opened to gulp down a breath, eyes fluttering open with the force of drawn blinds pulled to refurl. Purity was cast aside to awaken on her own as the ravenous ghoulette clambered to be free of their shared embrace and sleeping bag, stumbling to a stand.


    Kell laughed loudly and openly, flicking the lightswitch. Surprisingly, this place still had electricity, despite the disrepair it seemed to lay within. Bare bulbs hanging from the ceiling lit the disheveled breakroom with warm yellow luminance, shedding some light upon a long plastic table that had a handful of folding chairs laid out as if for a meal. Kell began to set the table, laying out disposable forks and knives and plates from a nearby cupboard, giving nothing but a warm grin as she noticed that Esper James had staggered over to the table, already beginning to pore over the contents of the takeaway.


    The first item was in her mouth before she could even consider it - a burst of fish flavor, umami, and blessed fats, drizzling down her throat as she chewed the entire item to a simultaneously crispy-and-wet state of maceration. A cursory glance between individual chews revealed the contents of her mouth: bao, made piscator-style. The wrapper had been replaced with a more palatable pouch of crispy salmon skin, fried to perfection, the interior filling a blend of whitefish and pork that was reduced to a raw, ponzu-infused paste before cooking. The taste of garlic and white pepper mingled with the citrus tang of the ponzu, the amalgam meat within succulent and juicy from pork fat, the crisp exterior offering texture and crunch without being too substantial for fang-owners to have difficulty chewing.


    The rest of the offerings in the box - eggrolls, pot stickers, wontons - were similarly produced. The fillings may have been different, but based on the smell, they were mostly similar. Similar enough to not upset the palate. The scent was luxurious, as well: the intertwined meats, soft aroma of fish and comforting fragrance of pork, the stinging savoriness of the fried fish skin, the creamy, cushioning bouquet of the rendered fats. EJ couldn''t hold back - she couldn''t even wait for Kell to say something to her about it. Her hands were set into motion immediately as the full force of the perfume of the takeaway enraptured her ravenous stomach, funneling piece after piece into her waiting maw.


    Kell let out a spurt of laughter once again, sneaking one of her hands in to begin selecting pieces even as EJ attacked the contents of the box. Off on the other side of the room, Purity began to push herself to a stand of her own, awakened by the raucous clatter her new lover was making. Once EJ had started to flag on her rapacious consumption, Kell set down the bottle of pills and pushed it to EJ, the cap already undone. "Take one. I can smell it on you, you know; I bet everyone within ten feet of you would be able to, too. Hey, Purity, can you smell that? The blood in the air? The ferrous tang of iron, the sting of copper?" Kell spoke just as heartily and wholesomely as she acted, all too happy to give EJ some time alone with the takeaway as she turned to address the pinkette.


    Purity, still fighting off sleep''s greed-laden grasp, blinked a few times before finally answering. She nodded as she responded, putting a hand out against the nearest wall to steady herself. "...yeah. She''s hungry, yeah? Awwwh... Poor baby, honestly. I know she''s been without it for a few days, but... Well, it''s kinda sad to see her like this. A few days away from feral... Here. I''ve got an idea." The ex-party girl forced her legs to comply with her desire to close the distance, taking up the seat directly beside EJ, putting one arm around her ghoulfriend''s back and the other going to EJ''s thighs to fish for her hidden knife. Finding nothing there except the usual warmth, she reached into one of her own pockets and managed to draw free a diminutive pocketknife.


    Kell watched, curious, but not too curious to prevent her from producing some red plastic cups and place them at every woman''s seat. These were filled with lukewarm water from a nearby jug, the kind you keep for disaster prepping. Once EJ''s was filled, Purity rolled back her sleeve and extended an arm over the cup; her other hand flicked the knife open, and Kell''s breath drew up into her chest in a singular gasp.


    Purity gave the blade a quick drag across her own bare flesh, across the street rather than down the road, hesitation foregone in the name of decisiveness. Blood began to gather speedily, soon blood enough to make the red fluid trickle down into the water of EJ''s cup, diluting the red into a soft pink. Purity grit her teeth from the sting of broken flesh, but still found a smile to offer her lover. EJ, who had been nearing completion on her culinary rampage, felt every muscle in her body come alight with activity. Just the scent of fresh blood was enough to awaken a beast prowling in her soul''s rusted cage, and looking down to meet the sight of it upon Purity''s flesh, and dripping sweetly into her cup? It was undeniable.


    She drained the cup in mere seconds, her hunger only further titillated as the blood-tinged water entered her system. Her body howled and screamed at her to consume, to find more, to drink as much as she could - it wasn''t as strong as it had been when Purity had drugged her with human meat, but it was still all-consuming. Her hands raced out lightning-quick, still a bit greasy from the food, and took hold of Purity''s forearm by the elbow and wrist. In an instant, the ghoul''s mouth was upon her - but this time, without the introduction of fangs. She had managed to hold herself back at least that much.


    Drinking blood straight from the vein was akin to ambrosia on tap. It was a full-body reaction: muscles flexed and relaxed, contorted and reset, vision becoming simultaneously hazy and laser-focused as her lids began to droop in ecstasy. An awakening in EJ''s loins was met by laughter from Purity, who pulled the blonde closer with her free hand; it went without saying that Esper James could glut herself on nectar till she was sick, till she was drunk. In certain circles, the phenomena of blood over-consumption was called getting ''bled out'', and as it stood, Purity seemed as though she would be happy to let EJ get bled out in her care.


    Kell whistled long and loudly, starting high, ending low. She offered Purity a comforting grin, followed by a conspiratorial wink. "Hey, god damn, what''s a girl gotta do to get some''a that for herself? Hahahahaha! But no, like, damn... Not a lot of mortals''ll just give it up for their partners like that. Shit, even the most dedicated coffin-jockeys would rather just end the relationship than play with fire like that, giving a hungry ghoul something to drink. You two must be close, eh? Maybe I''ll move my sleeping bag to a different room, give you some privacy..." Another wink followed; no laughter this time, but the grin remained. Purity couldn''t keep from feeling a new flow of that sacred red as her cheeks turned rosy, uncharacteristically bashful of Kell''s words.


    "Look! She... She needs it, right? It''s not her fault she''s gotta drink blood to survive... And it''s been a bit since she''s had her pills, so I wanted to give her something nice before she takes more. They''re like poison. I''ve heard all the rumors about how they''re made, what''s in ''em... They''re bad stuff." Purity''s defense was met with a roll of the eyes from Kell, but no refutation, only a shrug. EJ continued to whine and coo into the pale expanse of Purity''s arm, body spasming as the fresh blood impacted her stomach and her nerves. She was a woman possessed - in the throes of divinity that could only be likened to a drug trip, moaning and whimpering as if in the heat of impassioned rut, eyes aflutter and body ashiver in their euphoria.


    "C''mon. Let''s eat. You''re gonna need to replace that blood, anyways... And EJ seems done with her food. Looks like there''s still some left for us, hahaha..." Kell extricated a single black pill from the pill bottle, setting it on EJ''s untouched plate like the world''s saddest hors d''oeuvre. It was Purity''s turn now to roll her eyes and sigh, unable to stop herself from feeling a little elation of her own at the enthusiasm of EJ''s feeding, and all that it entailed. She removed her second arm from EJ''s backside and went to start eating, making idle conversation with Kell while their shared blonde secretary plummeted deeper and deeper into the canyons of red excess. Bled out, indeed.

 Act Two (Ch. 33) - Sex Is Something You Do With Your...; or, Sunset of the Heart

    Once Esper James had been given her fill, Purity only a bit more pale for her trouble, the little ghoulette was whisked by her two companions over to the sleeping bag she had previously spent the night in. She was practically convulsing as her body reacted, fresh blood flushing away the old to the caustic pit of her stomach, simultaneously invigorating tired and semi-dead flesh with new essence. Her eyes contracted and dilated seemingly at random, her vision shot and blurry to the point she could barely make out the vague shapes of her friends, and the lights of the room were nearly blinding.


    By contrast, her epidermis felt as though she had been dipped in a vat of aphrodisiac. Every single touch, of flesh, of fabric, of hair, of a fingernail or a zipper or the synthetic material of the sleeping bag''s exterior... Every single one, even those so imperceptible to mortals as to be ignored, sent jolts like lightning through EJ''s system. It was ecstasy, just to be touched, to be caressed by those women, especially Purity, whom her intoxicated heart had quickly bloomed with love for. She was an affectionate drunk, and now, drunk on human blood instead of mere alcohol, she couldn''t stop herself from leaning into what she assumed was Purity''s body. She could only guess based from smell, and the scent of Purity was so ingrained into her frazzled little brain that it was a simple matter to find her human lover''s warmth.


    Moments slipped by like grains of sand, chronological awareness the least of EJ''s concerns as she let a needful moan erupt from her chest while being undressed. Fear couldn''t even find purchase to grip at the bulwark of her heart as she was laid bare, flesh burning hot and rolling in waves at the merest hint of sensation. Even the thought of having the duo''s eyes upon her body was thrilling, a concept she normally would have found mortifying, especially since she wasn''t even lucid enough to think to hide her bloodborne arousal.


    A blink, and then she was resting on her back, once again laid down in the sleeping bag with the other two standing over her. They were chatting in friendly tones, and while Esper James could have picked out every little inflection, each syllable crisp as a winter morn, EJ''s mind was a haze. She had sunken deep into a crimson mire, brain engulfed by thick scarlet mud, the sanguine infusion from her lover more than enough to condemn her to an inward isolation. She couldn''t even bring her limbs to move, no matter how hard she tried - she was too far gone, and too far by a mile.


    Purity began to strip off as well, just as Kell turned to leave. The blinding lights of the fluorescent bulbs in the ceiling were flicked off moments before the door shut, and then, the pair were plunged into the ambient darkness of a lightless room. Some luminance spilled from below the doorframe, entering in from where Kell had ventured, but otherwise it was lightless. EJ could barely see it, but she became aware, vaguely, that Purity was looking down at her. She tried to smile. She was subsequently unaware of how it turned out.


    Cloth was slipped free of Purity''s body, the exact form of it indiscernible from the bleariness of EJ''s vision; she hadn''t the presence of mind to even consider what they may be, but the scent of blood from the forearm wound and the lingering scabs of her shoulder wound made the ghoul''s mouth water in visual input''s stead. She could feel herself twitch as her lover dropped low, getting down on all fours, beginning to climb into the shared, cramped sleeping bag.


    Flesh graced flesh as Purity wiggled in beside her smaller lover, bare against clothed, living against dead. Purity was warm, her body soft, her form just as plush as ever - but EJ, blood-glutted as she was, was burning hotly, her taut skin barely holding back muscles which writhed and flexed like individual entities below the thin veneer of her pale flesh.


    The feeling of Purity''s hands flanking her neck, the warmth of Purity''s body emanating down from where she had propped herself up over the petite pillow princess, both caused a knot to form in EJ''s throat. She wanted to cry out, to vocalize her surprise and delight, the red-water moor her grey matter had been enveloped in now replaced by the heavy, perfumed muck of Purity''s presence. She couldn''t make her mouth move, couldn''t force the wind from her lungs, could only shut her eyes and immerse herself in the moment.


    A mental mire became a physical embrace. Purity lowered herself so their chests were touching - EJ having been without a bra since she had originally dressed - and leaned her head down, her face so teasingly close. EJ tried so hard, tried to focus every ounce of her willpower, hoping to bring her hands up to caress her lover; her inability was crushing, but that crushing failure was swept away almost immediately as Purity''s lips pressed to the ghoul''s.


    Below the quickly-warming cloth of the sleeping bag, Purity''s hands were deft. EJ''s panties were pulled to her knees with only a momentary shift from the pinkette, and once they were dealt with, Purity''s thighs took her beloved''s pride in their loving embrace. The feeling of this alone was indescribable for the smaller girl, the sensation of having her body caressed, her womanhood held tight, nearly too much for her. The rush of blood, the shuddering in her chest as she made each timid breath... She was completely at Purity''s mercy. Just how she wanted it.


    Love came quickly, and after some time, EJ found the strength to cry out. The derelict breakroom they found themselves in was momentarily transformed into a love nest, each movement of the hips, every little kiss or touch of the tongue driving the submissive second-living to the edge of what she thought she could handle. And then, of course, Purity would find another, new way to elicit those needy sounds from her playmate - dragging every sweet whimper from the bloodbound secretary like it was a desperate hallelujah.


    If her cries and gasps were hallelujahs, then soon enough, Esper James was brought to the altar to pray. To beg for a far-away God, without words, but not without sound. Purity''s thighs had freed her but simultaneously lowered her body so that a new warmth could embrace the ghoulette once more, motion insistent but not oppressive, Purity''s affection far from demanding. The hands on either side of EJ''s head, propping her lover up, were soon placed about her - a closeness was then provided that truly allowed the blonde to drown in her partner''s body, her scent, her sensation.


    With her brain too addled to focus on anything else but the love she was being given, Esper James was drawn hard and deep into the pits of submission. Even as her eyes started to regain their ability to focus and regulate pupil diameter she had naught but eagerness to please at the forefront of her mind. The lessons Judas had taught her rippled in her subconscious mind like a phantom of lust, muscle memory responding perfectly to the proffered tips of fingers and the seeking grip of hands. She was better this way, or so she told herself in what broken thought she could muster. She was better beneath the care of another woman.


    Purity''s nails dragged across EJ''s back, leaving deep red marks, lasting reminders of their union. Her teeth, too, made an appearance: laid upon Esper James''s bared neck, peppering her with bite marks, leaving indents in the shape of canines and incisors, forceful but restrained. Their shared warmth brought with it a humidity of mingling forms, both parties breathing heavily, Purity drawing EJ to her peak before letting her drop back down once, twice, thrice. Her experience made that of the ghoulette pale in comparison, and the far more adept of the pair was more than happy to tease her plaything until she was reduced to a pliant puddle to soak into their sleeping bag.


    EJ''s ears rang as she was raised to her peak, heat in her chest and in her hips reminiscent of a crematorium, every inch of her finding Purity''s passion burned every bit as hot and bright as her own. If anything, it burned brighter: Purity, in her lucidity, was able to focus fully on her lover, lavishing her with kisses, with bites, and with the tender damp of their intertwined bodies.


    More than the physical, though, was the emotional. Esper James''s dead heart was given new life with every kiss, the blood of her lover within, the taste of her lover without, and in these ways she was completely enamored. Words started to return to her once again, her whole body trembling from delight, her voice a warble to rival a baby bird''s. But maybe that was good, she thought to herself - to be a baby bird, for Purity to do as she pleased with. She needed this.


    This love, this... this undivided attention, the display both in flesh and feeling, that Purity hadn''t lied. She truly did love her. The blood had been proof enough, but now, with the scent of Purity''s wounds and perfume filling both nostrils, she couldn''t resist. Her heart was full to bursting; her core, pulsing with such adoration as to nearly break free from her chest, hummed with unspoken ecstasy at their mingling.


    Purity then left EJ''s neck, turning away just enough to display her own. She bared the side that EJ hadn''t come close to biting, her virgin, unbroken skin of a pallid tone, soft and smooth and succulent to a blood-drunk ghoul. When she spoke, her voice was atremble, and just as drowned in the sins of the flesh as EJ''s own quivering tone. "EJ. Cutie. I... I want you t-to bite me. Not... Not hard, not hard enough to break the skin, but... I want you to do it. I wanna feel your teeth on me... Lemme prove that I trust you..."


    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    With a spared hand, she guided the blonde''s head up to her own neck. The secretary''s lips were dangerously close to that bared skin, the teeth behind them revealed in a monstrous clash between a smile and a display of hunger. EJ found the strength to split her maw, open it wide, and then, so gingerly as to be nearly taunting, bite down.


    Purity gasped as if struck, eyes momentarily going wider than headlights, before they shut in a forced display of calm. EJ, for her part, was docile: she continued to bite, relieving Purity of fang-touch before gracing her once more with the pinpricks of her ivory. Purity''s core tightened, her arms and legs tensed, a shudder of taboo excitement rippling through her. For all the second-living she had lain with, none had ever bitten her. She had never indulged such a forbidden desire.


    With the introduction of Esper James''s rows of oral daggers, and the way that Purity gripped her with every scrape of tooth-to-flesh, the love they made neared, and then reached, fruition. Purity had no intention of taking her hips from her lover''s, pressing down upon her till the end, a coital kiss goodnight. EJ''s desperate, needful cries as the heat and pressure of the peak of her personal mountain crushed in on her, truly drowned in the mire of Purity''s body and purpose, were loud enough to draw a spate of laughter from the other room.


    And then, catharsis. Purity pressed down on her partner, the intent changed, the sensation not dissimilar. Love had wettened the cloth of their bedding, but it was a minor discomfort at best - easily put from the mind, discarded like so much mental refuse. EJ''s jaw released, and Purity was freed; in that darkness and still they lay, countless moments whiled away, chests heaving from exertion the only real movement in their den.


    There they lay, entangled within one another''s embrace, their sweat (mostly Purity''s - ghouls rarely gave off sweat in the first place) and damp wicking away as the seconds ticked past. After a time, a knock came from the other room. Kell opened the door barely a breath later, leaning her head in and flicking on the lights.


    "Hey, you two lovebirds, but, uhh... Err, I don''t really know how to say this, but there''s someone here for you. Both of you, that is. Apparently she knows the both of you? Said she found the place from an app on EJ''s phone or something... Whatever. I''m just gonna let her in. Pull the covers over yourselves." And then Kell''s head retreated into the other room, brunette wave of hair trailing behind like a chocolate stream.


    EJ had dropped enough from her bloodborne delirium to be lucid, though her body still moved on its own beneath the blanket of Purity''s frame. Her breath caught in her throat when Kell''s words fell upon her still-ringing ears, and a new wave of adrenaline coursed through her veins as she considered who it could even be. Judas? That was most likely, but if it was Judas, then going here alone... without an escort, without even a chaperone, without a strike force to lock the building down and ensure minimal conflict? It was unlike her.


    Then maybe someone from the club? Maybe one of Purity''s friends? She supposed that tAsT had a geolocator built-in, because it could double as a life-tracker app, and maybe one of the girls from ''Purity''s Princesses'' was worried about her pink-haired provider? That would be strange, but not too unbelievable. Purity''s implication that she had a connection to the flesh market, and the unspoken allusion to her offering similar services to second-living girls who needed their fix... EJ felt like this was the most likely explanation, a little proud of herself for having figured it out so quickly.


    And then, the door swung wide. In stepped a beautiful and familiar woman. A puffy black coat draped itself over a lithe but muscled frame, her underlying torso concealed by a ragged tanktop that just said ''DEUS IN ABSENTIA'' in large, ERFC-style text; her legs were concealed with black denim jeans, and heavy alt-fashion combat boots clomped on the cold concrete floor with every step. A shock of alabaster hair, spiky and barely reaching the lobes of her ears, sat above an elfin face adorned with crimson LED eyes and tanned, caramel-color skin. EJ nearly threw up upon seeing her.


    "Heyyy, bitches. Bet you thought I was dead, eh, little lamb? And imagine my surprise when you two are bedfellows... No room for a third, I''d guess?" Esthrielle laughed, her organic lips reeling back to display a mouth full of those characteristic steel fangs, thicker than anything the morgues could produce. Purity, even through her utter shock at seeing her contact again, especially here of all places, couldn''t help herself.


    She put on a flirty smile and narrowed her own LED-lined eyes to bedroom stance. "Oh~? A third? I mean, I don''t really mind... I''d be a bad girlfriend if I denied my little ghoul-pal the chance to try out an Easterner, heheheh...~" A suggestive wink capped the sentence like the tip of a bullet, and Est roared with laughter as she approached, seemingly unbothered by Purity and EJ''s state of undress.


    "Well, if you insist, Purity... But, no, really, hey. I, uh... I wanted to get in contact with EJ, actually, and then I saw that her apartment is up in flames like it got firebombed. Not me, this time, not any of my people, either. So... I checked the tracker I had the techies install in that collar she lent me. Guess I''m here now." She knelt down before the two women, one prone and one supine, and reached out a leather-gloved hand to ruffle EJ''s hair.


    EJ, who had up until now been dead silent, couldn''t hold back a piercing exclamation of realization and frustration with herself for being so dumb. "FUCK!" The other two women just looked down at her, Purity taken slightly aback, but Est far too steeled to be startled. Esper James tore herself apart within her mind palace, having thought herself so smart, but never really sparing the time to consider why Est had returned the choker. It had a fucking tracker in it. She''d always know if EJ moved somewhere new; she''d always have safe harbor with a familiar face, because she knew EJ was too timid to tell her no.


    The ghoul''s face reddened with internalized embarrassment at her own foolishness; despite her, the other two continued, Est speaking first. "So... Just met Kell. She seems nice. Our goals align pretty well. Taking Tsang to task for their atrocities against human life, you know how it is... I guess our reasons differ a little, but looks like we''re all in the same boat, huh? She told me you two killed a Tsang dude. Pretty sweet, imo." Yes, she did in fact say ''imo'' aloud. A little reminder of how Est was, but one that made Purity snigger almost instantly.


    The pinkette returned the serve. "Yeah... Fuck Tsang, honestly. They''ve done everyone here dirty, to say it lightly... but I dunno if it''s safe to have you around us, yeah? You still gonna try and kill EJ and Kell and all of them just because Tsang decided they shouldn''t stay dead?" A bubblegum colored eyebrow was raised high, emphasizing the quizzical gaze now offered to the Italian.


    "Nawh... I, uh... I did what I could to try and convince my guys that, y''know, maybe the undead are just unfortunates. Having one of the people we''re supposed to hate to the point of killing-on-sight spare me and shelter and feed me, it gave me a new view, in a sense. Can''t say I''m fond of vampires, still, but hey. I''m willing to give ''the enemy of my enemy'' a try. We take down Tsang together, or do what we can to, anyways, and who knows?" She shrugged, lips spreading thin in a mask of indifference before returning to the shark''s grin she normally bore.


    "Maybe if we give the crusade a few more years, the church will secularize - again - and we won''t need to kill all undead, just, uhh... Prevent new ones from getting made. And if Tsang is out of the picture, all the better." She winked down at the pair. EJ finally found the strength to speak, finished kicking herself in the metaphorical ribs over her failure to even consider that she was being tracked.


    "Est... It''s g-good to see you again. I''m... I''m really glad you''re not dead. Like, fucking super glad. I''m so sorry about everything that happened. I..." The stream of words trickled down to a drip, then the tap was fully stopped. Est ruffled her hair once more, nodding solemnly, her grin''s intensity dimming from Cheshire down to mere amusement. "I''m glad to hear that. I was worried you''d be pissed at me still. Here... I snagged you something from your apartment before the flames could get it. I just hope it''ll repay my debt, at least a little."


    Est reached deep into the folds of her coat, hands rummaging within internal pockets, before producing a small stuffie of a rabbit, white with cotton-candy eyes, blue and pink. EJ felt tears well in her eyes and that knot return in her throat as she reached up and took it. A reminder of home... A home long gone, now. Bittersweet. She gulped against the knot as she nuzzled into the bunny''s tummy, its humanoid anatomy letting its arms ''hug'' her as she began to weep.


    Home. That was a novel thought. At least she had this, because she knew that she could never return home again. No matter what.

 Act 3 (Ch. 34) - Witchcraft; or, Clubbed to Death

    Esthrielle stayed for a while, letting hours pass, telling stories about her home - which held Purity and EJ in rapt attention - and getting filled in on what EJ and Purity, respectively, had been up to. The pinkette and the blonde tried to be as tactical as they could with the information given, omitting the cruel truth of Purity''s deception with the flesh and her attempt to come onto her now-lover, conveniently forgetting that EJ had been feral earlier in the week, and glossing over their romantic strife. EJ, still a bit drunk on fresh blood and the tingling touch of endocrine ecstasy, couldn''t help but spill it about her night with Judas.


    Both members of their atrophied audience were somewhere between aghast and allured as Esper James detailed her evening with her boss. "Well, f-first, she told me she wanted me to be hungry for the evening, and so I, uh, I didn''t take my pills, as per her request... A-And then she picked me up in a big limo, and we went out to eat..." EJ''s voice was sing-song as she summarized her day of play, but both onlookers pressed her for details, Purity hiding her surprise well, Est simply grinning as she began to put the pieces together.


    "Okay, o-okay! So... We got in the limo, and I was wearing a really cute outfit, and Judas was dressed to the nines in like a fuckin'' suit or something... And she poured us a lot of champagne... It was really tasty, and we talked for a while, so I, uh... I got kinda drunk. Y''know... and then, we pulled up to a butchery I''d never been to before, a real fancy place..." EJ''s inflection was a reflection, mirror-sheen words casting emotional tinges of adoration and relish. Purity put a finger to her lover''s lips and held it there for a moment, only removing it when their lips neared and embraced, a reminder of who EJ truly belonged to. At least, to a degree.


    "EJ. Sweetie. Let''s skip to the juicy parts. You seem quite... excited to tell us about them, and we wouldn''t want to delay you. Would we, Esthrielle?" Purity''s baby blues darted up to meet Est''s ruby reds, and the Italian cackled with the voice of a hyena before giving a hurried nod. The affirmation appeased the busty beauty, and she gave Esper James a gentle squeeze, their nudeness and sweat-damp making their flesh stick. She nestled EJ''s more diminutive form into her embrace, an act both affectionate and fairly possessive.


    EJ didn''t seem to see what she was being baited into, and so she nodded with fervency, more than eager to do as the woman holding her dictated. Her body ground against the pinkette''s as she snuggled up closer, her head now resting as much on the pillow as Purity''s chest, before she spoke again.


    "Welllllll...! We ate, and it was really good, plus she bought us more wine with donor blood in it from Peru, I think she said... And, erm... While we drank, a-and ate, some really nice steak from a real farm... She kinda worked me off? I guess~? Edged me all the wayyyy home until we were back at her place..." A giggling spate rippled through her then, the blood''s grip waning, but her own elation at relished memories coming to bear. The cyborg echoed her, immune to the emotional turmoil Purity felt roiling in her heart''s core, but all too happy to pull out the popcorn and laugh along with the performers.


    Purity, however, was in strife. The very woman she had felt a connection to, had finally felt herself to be close enough to love, had also lain with the woman in charge of Purity''s years of serial abuse. It was shocking, and by Purity''s new expression, she hadn''t the emotional wherewithal to hide it. Esthrielle was yet cruel, or perhaps indifferent. She pressed Esper James further. EJ couldn''t see what this story was doing to her lover, after all.


    "Alright, so she sucked you off in the back of her fancy car, took all your life essence a vampire can, and brought you home? What happened next, blondie?" Lips wavered as an attempt was made to repress the smile she now sported, staring intently down at the two lovers, but it was futile. New Way or not, the juice and drippings of watching another''s secrets laid bare in front of their own partner was irresistible.


    EJ perked up, the espresso shot of playful encouragement energizing her to continue. "So! We got back to her house, she helped me inside, showed me around... Took me up to her b-bedroom, eheheh, and then she, erm... Well, she started with her mouth, vampire oral fixation and stuff, but then once that was done-" She was stopped in her tracks by the cold wall of a warm palm, her makeshift body pillow putting a halt to the retelling of events.


    "EJ! I... I think I''ve heard enough, yeah? I''m... I''m glad you had fun, but... Eugh. Fuck. Look, we said we wouldn''t lie to each other anymore, right? Well then I''ll be honest. I don''t really wanna hear about you getting topped and fucked by a Tsang exec, especially one as abusive as... Judas. She was bad to you, remember?" Purity''s right hand left EJ''s body, returning soon to brave the loose tangle of cornsilk hair. Her other hand, holding to Esper James''s stomach, gave her another squeeze.


    EJ''s words died in her throat, a true death for little verbal citizens. The catch in Purity''s voice, the insistence of that soft press to the ghoulette''s midsection, the way her body tensed as if straining to exert itself, or holding back from exertion... EJ was starting to reach the end of her blood-high, and even if she wasn''t, she had developed some skill at detecting the moods of her superiors in her line of work. Purity was holding back plenty. Composure remained unblemished, for now, but one more strike of the verbal hammer would chisel the placid surface of Purity''s emotional state into shards.


    "Ah... Yes. Let''s be done. I''ll, uh, I''ll tell you more later, Est. But it doesn''t... doesn''t really m-matter that much. You''re right, Puri, she... she w-wasn''t good to me. For a long, long time. T-Took her damn long enough, if she was, erm... N-Nevermind. Let''s talk about something else." Her lips were sealed subsequently, with little fuss but a lot of anxiety. She didn''t want to upset Purity. Some part of her was still mad at Purity, but once had been rage was now little more than a dull ember, and it was an ember undeserved for Purity''s heart.


    The other woman let out a held breath, the warmth of her sigh setting EJ''s ear to tingling as the breeze passed. The release of tension was palpable both physically and emotionally, the atmosphere in the room quickly returning to one of casual warmth, but not quite free of the talons which held tight their throats.


    They mingled for moments more, but eventually, as minutes turned to hours, the revelations of the moonlit morning they had awoken into had eaten into Purity''s patience. Esper James was ousted from their shared bed, causing Esthrielle to initially look away as the ghoulette''s nudity was bared, but she certainly snuck a peek when her sensors told her the other women weren''t gazing her way. Purity''s voice shook as a fault line''s bedfellow, her LED-lined irises gleaming with tears yet to be allowed to form or fall.


    "Y''know, EJ, I really do love you. I do. I really, really do. But... If you''re still so caught up on your abusive Tsang boss bitch or whatever, maybe you should...! Maybe you should take some time, and actually think about who treats you better! If you''re so fuckin'' excited about getting fucked by whatever woman will take you, maybe you should fuck off to the bar and have a little fun! Realize how much worse everyone else is at it...!" The cherubic curves of her facial structure had been warped into a cruel visage of barely-composed rage and bitterness, waters of sorrow in her eyes like acid eating away at what composure she still kept.


    Esper James was stunned - it was as if she had been punched, the sight of Purity''s burning tears and fierce grimace socking the ghoul straight to the gut. Every ounce of remaining spite she felt towards Purity for her earlier transgressions was swept away in that instant; instead, a new desire to prostrate herself and beg on hands and knees for forgiveness arose. She hadn''t even considered that Purity rejecting her, or giving her some form of pushback, may affect her so tremendously. Her knees shook with emotion.


    A brutal, bloody war began inside EJ''s mind and throat, desperate to say something, but too shaken for such action to occur. A hand was opened and outstretched, her right going out to try and place itself on Purity''s shoulder, but from behind Esthrielle slung an arm about the ghoul''s midsection. Following close behind, a synthflesh palm - tasting of silicone and the distant earthen flavor of gun oil - covering Esper James''s lips.


    The rasp of steel fangs brushing against one another as Est''s mouth opened sent a dread electricity into EJ''s ear. "I think that''s a great idea. We''ll go have some drinks, let you, ah, cool off. Besides. Won''t be good for your mental health if you''re cooped up all day." The rasp again as her maw was set to grin, attempting an expression of comfort and sympathy, but rarely is the muzzle of a wolf placating to sheep.


    EJ''s already wide eyes snapped even wider, internal focus on her own gaze evoking the thought of shining spotlights into the dark. Fuck, she didn''t really want to go to the club, especially not in her dirty clothes she had brought along, and more importantly, not when Purity was so distraught about something the timid little meat-eater had done. But perhaps, she thought, Est was right - perhaps Purity just needed some time alone, to breathe, to process things.


    They hadn''t even been official when EJ had fucked Judas, anyways! It was in the past. Purity had already taken the position of being her first, why did she care so much that EJ had - in the past - been so familiar with another woman? EJ could get past Purity''s body count. Why couldn''t Purity get past hers? At least, that was the general idea of the train of thought within the frantic secretary''s mind as Est started to pull her away, off to go get dressed.


    Hoodie? Check. Sweatpants? Also check. Skate shoes? Check as well. Est helped EJ fumble her way out of nudity as best as she could, but once EJ''s only remaining clothing options were all donned, those strong, artificial hands went to put the gifted (and now bugged) choker around EJ''s neck. The ghoulette drew away instinctively, baring her teeth and furrowing her brow, yet the Italian was insistent.


    "Oiiii, EJ! You''re a wanted fucking criminal now, right? Might get snatched up? I mean, do you even remember how we met? Some dude had you cornered in an alleyway. You''re way too, ah... we''ll say cute to go there alone, or at least without someone who can find you and help you in a pinch. Put the damn tracker on." Just from the weight of Est''s words and the memories they invoked, EJ relented - she lifted her chin, presented her neck, and allowed the choker to be applied.


    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    It was her first time properly wearing it. It was... surprisingly comfortable, or so she thought. The press of the metal heart silhouette to her long-since-sculpted-away Adam''s apple was like the thumb of a lover, and the leather band made the rest of the fingers in the inhuman hand. They called them chokers for a reason, as it were, but thankfully second-living didn''t need to breathe quite so badly as the true-living or even most Wayfinders...


    And then, they were off. Kell gave them a wave goodbye, offering Esper James a new knife for her pocket - a small pocketknife, but still advertised as silvered - and then returned to watching anime on her phone as they slipped out. It was deep in the evening now, probably about midnight, but EJ didn''t dare check her phone for fear of finding more messages from Judas. The pair began the long walk free from the industrial district, EJ''s heart still heavy and conflicted, Est keeping her close with a single hand.


    -


    The streets of Vitus''s downtown were packed with people, living and dead, as was always the case when nightfall came. Regardless of the day, it was as if entering the midst of a jungle: myriad animals in human form wandering the smoggy night, eating flesh, hunting other types of meat, drinking and making merry in the way of beasts. Blood and butchery are the way of Vitus''s wildlife, and no life is wilder than mankind. It''s only natural that every sidewalk is crammed with every walk of life one may imagine.


    A few catcalls come from the mixed crowd, for EJ and Esthrielle both, sometimes both of them at once - complimenting their looks, admiring their outfits, adoring their apparent closeness. Propositioning them for a group affair in the closest dark alley. EJ shies away from these at first, face burning with shame - she instinctively clings to Est, taking strange solace in the subtle scent of her synthetic body, but after Est begins to fire back at their lecherous audience the ghoulette becomes more bold.


    Est, for her part, allows one or two hollered bits of commentary on the exotic look of her skin and hair and the way her own teeth seem to be a matched pair for her ''girlfriend''s'', but once a man with greasy hair and an exposed midriff stops the pair and offers money for services they would prospectively render, she fires back. Unlike EJ, Est is brusque, and fiery - she takes less than a speck of shit from anyone more as they proceed to the Jezzebelle, her figuring being that familiar stomping grounds would benefit them both.


    The bleary-eyed bouncer doesn''t check their IDs. One look at Est is all it takes for him to step aside, powerful but sluggish arm holding the door wide for the pair to slip into the club. The inside is as it ever was: filled to the brim with wannabe-socialites in leather, latex, and PVC shoehorning themselves into any crevice they can find, bodies pressed together and grinding in a vague approximation of dancing. The creak and snap of conflicting outfits is drowned like a bag of kittens by the bass-laden howl of enormous speakers, their drone and pulsation causing even the particle-laden air to emulate the throb of a frantic heartbeat.


    Scents were a haphazard minefield of cold blood, nicotine vapor, sweat, and countless types of cologne or perfume. EJ didn''t even try to focus on it after one whiff, her bloodhound''s nose only deeming fit to perceive Est''s own aroma of motor oil, gunmetal, and silicone. It had quickly become an aroma of comfort, one that set EJ at ease and caused her troubled emotions to settle if only for a moment - with the addition of her natural inclination to lean into the woman who had promised to protect her from dangers, Est had rapidly set herself up as a pillar of security.


    A voice pierced the crowd''s deafening thrum, masculine and familiar, radiating from the bar. "YO! EJ! Girl, how are you doing?! Come the Hell over here!" EJ''s head snapped towards the salutations, and Est''s followed suit. It was, of course, Roth - the implacable barman of the Jezze, ivories on display from a cheerful smile, those faux-silver plates on his fangs catching some of the dancefloor''s scattered polychromatic rays.


    EJ gestured with her head towards the bar, and the two made their way over - stepping over spilled drinks, stumbling drunks, and lost accessories. By time they arrived, Roth had already poured them both a drink: something unfamiliar, though, and reeking of strong alcohol. "Hey, EJ! God damn, it''s been a bit. Last I saw you, Purity was feeding you drinks like you''d been in a desert. Heard she mighta spiked one of ''em, though, maybe that''s why you two ain''t been around much recently. Normally she''s here every damn night. Glad to see a little roofie isn''t enough to steer you clear of us!"


    He laughed, and winked, the sound as rich and deep as the mahogany of his skin. His dreadlocks now bore new adornments - little rings and pins, silvered from the looks of it but likely just steel, a scattered mix of them bearing red faux-gemstones to match the refractive quality of his eyes. He pushed the drinks towards both women, the implication of charity prompting EJ to reach for hers immediately. His words, and the memories of her last time at the Jezze, were both a bit unsettling - but in the end, she could tell he meant well, and was just trying to be friendly.


    He spoke again, giving the pair little time to even attempt an answer. "Ey, yo, you''ve got a new girl here with you, yeah? I saw you here a few days ago, though... Never forget a face. You had on a HATE FUCK band top, right? Love those guys. Their new single, ''Fuck You ''Till You Bleed'', is already in my top five. Music video for it''s great, too." His smile was as solid as stone, as implacable as a raw cliff face, uninterruptible as a mountain. He gestured towards the other drink, eyes locked on Est, and for a moment his brows furrowed deeper - but then returned to that mask of mirth he normally bore.


    Est spoke up first. "Well, yeah! I''ve seen HATE FUCK live, a couple times! They were awesome. Hit the stage bare naked from the start of their set, and by the end of it, everyone was bleeding. Desmond''s fuckin'' synth shorted out from all the blood dripping into it, hahaha!" It seemed genuine - Est''s expression rose and fell at the correct times, her emotions were in line with what she said, the inflection in her voice was pitch-perfect. EJ had never guessed Est would be a HATE FUCK fan, or really any of the more extreme acts that came out of the West. The Italian had always seemed like the type to listen to hymnals about God or something.


    Maybe that was just EJ''s bias talking, though. Being raised from birth to see the East as an evil, hyper-religious cult? I hadn''t done good things for her perception of its denizens.


    The ex-secretary spoke up now, wanting to give Roth a response before she sipped the free drink. "Yeah! Look, if she did roofie me, she was also good enough to not fuck me till I woke back up, hahaha! But we''ve both, uhh... been busy. Lots going on. Big wheels turning all the time in our lives. You know how shit is." And then, a sip - nay, a glug of the drink. It was strong, strong as a bitch, but the blood was donor just by the taste, and whatever was mixed with it gave it a fruity, savory flavor.


    Pineapple, brown sugar, the copper tang of blood... But also the zest of citrus, the calm of mango, and the thrilling headrush of caffeine, all having a little liquid party atop floorboards made of woody, powerful alcohol. It was like someone had distilled a barn fire into liquid form, then decided to use it to make rum punch, and tossed in an energy drink for good measure. EJ found herself simultaneously disgusted and enticed by it, her initial swallow leaving her grimacing even as she readied for another, longer pull from the glass.


    Roth laughed again, nodding as EJ met the drink, watching her reaction with amused attentiveness. "So, you got it in, yeah? Or whatever the equivalent is? Good girl, little lamb, I had my doubts, but... Seeing the way you two were hanging off each other on the dancefloor was nothing short of miraculous. I''ve never had kids before, but I felt like a proud father watching you with her. And damn, guess you hooked another, eh? Popular little lamb. Bitches love a vulnerable little piece, don''t they?"


    Roth''s grin turned conspiratorial, and he shoved EJ''s arm gently, careful to avoid the one holding her drink. EJ had already begun to forget about how upset Purity had been, and the guilt was drowning beneath the tide of donor blood and strong alcohol. As an added bonus, Est''s protective hold on her became subtly more possessive once the blonde began drinking, pulling her close enough that EJ could just lean on the still-organic torso of her companion.


    Est opened her mouth to speak, but was cut short in an instant as someone''s hand laid itself on the shoulder opposite EJ - another hand laid itself on Esper James''s shoulder, respectively. The pair turned as one, and even Roth seemed a bit surprised by who he saw behind them, but he didn''t say anything.


    Ebon hair in a curtain of midnight, draped over a face speaking of Eastern descent, near the Philippines back when the Philippines were a recognizable individual nation - eyes of crimson, alive with a cruel spark of concealed sadism, peered out from behind the inky veil of her locks. Her features were elegant, just like her physique, and she radiated vampiric influence and pheromones like a censer emitted frankincense smoke. She was dressed in club apparel, shockingly: a black v-neck with the image of an anime girl being disemboweled by other anime girls upon its face, with a similarly coal-toned blazer over top, complete with a lapel pin of a bloody maw. Tight crimson chinos and pristine black fashion boots completed the ensemble, along with a spattering of darkly-toned makeup.


    The woman''s smile, though, was what really drew the eyes, and what made EJ''s heart go cold enough to rival a Siberian winter. Perfect, immaculately maintained ivory, normal on most people of affluence in Vitus due to the advancements in biotechnology. They were, however, plated in gold. Real gold.

 Act Two (Ch. 35) - Double Trouble; or, Cat Sanctuary

    Winter''s chill took momentary residence within Esper James, that cryogenic flash of realizing you have been caught in the act. In EJ''s case, she had been caught in the act of committing a literal crime - evading the police - by the woman who unofficially owned her. She began to quiver, cowering shamelessly before her mistress, the vampiric overseer''s presence alone sending her to her knees. She just had to go out and party, didn''t she?


    Judas took to a lean that resembled a bow, arching her back forwards to follow EJ''s face in her despairing descent. There was no pillar strong enough from keeping the secretary from crumbling, a pyramid of sand in the face of a powerful gust. Meeting the ravenette''s eyes with her own emeralds was like a careless glance towards a basilisk: petrifying, yet even as she was turned to stone, she fell apart. Few things could have picked up the pieces of her emotional state from where they lay embedded in the floor.


    "Welllll, EJ~? I finally found you... it''s been a while. Not really that long, in the grand scheme of things, but... You know." The taller woman looked down upon her subordinate as an owner over their pet, over an object in their possession. That was always how Judas appeared, it was true, and yet in this moment it evoked a sense of superiority to the point of being outright predatory. The strong devour the weak.


    Est watched this all happening as if in a stupor, a level of shock in equivalence to EJ''s grief stunning her in place. The woman she had tried to kill earlier in the week was now standing here before her, and more than that, she was making EJ melt. It was almost voyeuristic, watching Esper James become a puddle right before her eyes, and there was a ping of guilty pleasure in Esthrielle''s heart in response.


    "J-Juh... J-Juda... Jud-das...! I swear, I... I was just out with a f-f-friend for a night o-on the town, nothing m-more than that!" The words came in a sputter not unlike a clogged spigot, stunted snippets of words-to-be slipping away into nothingness. Esper James began to cry, hot tears to melt the touch of ice which lingered upon her skin. She felt her mind begin to slip away, pulled backwards through an open door within her own mental faculties, vision blurring in equal measure from her tears and from her panic. Her mind howled at her to backpedal, to go run and hide, but her body wouldn''t respond.


    "Ohhhhh~? A friend? Is this your friend, this... girl? I remember our date night really well, you know, both how sweet and innocent you are, and also how I got shot in the knee. Ha ha ha. Get up, EJ... I''m not gonna hit you. Honestly, I''m not really mad, or surprised, that you fell in with an Easterner." Judas snickered, her eyes narrowing nearly to crimson slits. An elegant hand reached out to give EJ''s cheek a tender caress, leaving herself open to Esthrielle.


    The gesture did not go unnoticed, the snowcap girl slowly but surely lowering her guard. Est crossed her arms now, leaning back upon a single leg, the other going forwards to set up a boundary between herself and the vampire. EJ knew could only process two things as Judas reached for her, twin instincts kicking in with terrible force. Firstly was that Judas would be pissed off at her if she didn''t lean forwards and accept the caress. Secondly, however, was a deeply ingrained need to flinch away from a potential strike.


    As EJ flinched, the desire to delay punishment overwhelming her aversion of punishment presently delivered, Judas''s hand rushed forth like a hungry viper. She took Esper James''s cheek in something very akin to a caress, but only if starving predators offer affection to their prey before consuming them.


    "EJ, c''mon... I know we''ve got a lot to talk about, a whole lot, but here... isn''t the place. If we''re gonna have a serious talk, we need to go somewhere more private. What about work on monday?" Judas''s tones were dulcet and her words honeyed, but their hidden intent was the rose of the bouquet. EJ wasn''t aware enough to mind the thorns.


    At the offer of amnesty in exchange for another bad day at work, EJ''s heart rose just as the vampire''s presence had initially cause it to wither. She gave her face now willingly to Judas as Esthrielle looked on with an expression of comingling disgust and amusement. Esthrielle sneered as Esper James began to nuzzle into her overlord''s palm, rolling her eyes before immediately returning them to what lay before her. She spat venom as her words began, filling the void left by EJ''s absent response.


    "Oh, so just a word from you and everything''s okay, yeah? I know where you fucking live, skank. This better not be a trap or I will... I''ll make you regret it." The emphasis of her words and the razor''s edge of her tone was undermined by the wavering which nestled within her speech as she watched. Judas had taken hold of Esper James''s multipurpose choker with the forefinger on her left hand, her right going to take the blonde''s waistband. Ghoulish hips were brought forth by the waistband''s hold, her upper body lagging behind from Judas''s appropriation of EJ''s neck. In the end, EJ was leaned back too far to support herself; instead, she was forced to fall back into the choker, letting Judas keep her aloft.


    "Yes. I''m a very powerful woman, tramp. But... I know I can count on EJ to be back to work on Monday. As for tonight? Well... We''re all here, and my personal secretary has already begun drinking. So we can have a little fun instead." Judas pushed EJ''s hips back to an appropriate stance relative to her torso, the hand that had been on EJ''s waistband now going up to help urge the cup towards EJ''s mouth. The vampire cackled, a sound that made EJ''s stomach do a flip for a profusion of reasons.


    The wave of nausea and excitement in equal part snapped Esper James from her fugue, causing her to blink a few times in repetition before focusing in on her boss''s face. The weight of what she had just said began to set into EJ''s skull, adding further inadvisable excitement to her emotional array. Judas was not a party girl by any means. She did not frequent establishments such as these for any reason at all. If she did, she probably went to a notably dressy and refined one, not a hole in the wall like this.


    The prospect of dragging Judas along, if only to get on her good side and ensure further punishment was diminished, outweighed any other option for the bedraggled blonde. The potential to dance with her out here in a place like this was even better, though it was late entering her train of thought. Esper James could only smile as wide as her lips allowed, manic in her desire to please her superior, every inch of razorlike ivory on full display. At least, they were until Judas''s gentle urging at EJ''s fruity beverage prompted the latter woman to imbibe.


    More blood. More booze. More stimulants. The stimulant crush was thrilling, yet it bore an exhaustion, too - a malleability to the form and soul. She had been overdoing it recently - blood for a great many meals recently, hot, sweet blood straight from the vein, and multiple meetings of donor blood to undead lips. Durable as she was, the science that kept the second-living did not prevent afflictions of the mind. She was getting used to it, used to the thrill, to the rush.


    Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel."Fine! Fine. We can share her for the night. Only tonight. After that, we are enemies again, alright? We almost killed eachother once. Let''s try and avoid having it happen again." She could barely believe what she was saying. This woman was her enemy for more reasons than could be counted on a single hand, and yet, the idea of a temporary ceasefire was more than amenable. Neither of them were looking to fight if it wasn''t necessary, and neither were prepared for it. It wouldn''t benefit anyone. Plus, the cyborg wasn''t in a fighting mood.


    Judas simply laughed, nodding as she did, now holding the cup up by its bottom now that the rim of it was to EJ''s lips. The ghoulette, to her credit, didn''t sputter once; she guzzled down every drop of the boozy brew, at least all that had been left remaining, and now she wobbled slightly from stimulation. A misstep left her fumbling, straight into the arms of her watchdog. Est caught her easily, holding her close as she did.


    Judas stuck out a hand to take Est''s abandoned drink, appropriating it for herself, knowing full well that Esthrielle wouldn''t drink a glass full of the stuff, regardless of its donor origin. Est said nothing, her prickly expression cooling to a gentle simmer of annoyance. The fact that Judas may legitimately be influential enough to ensure that both tonight, and EJ''s future, were both free and clear? It was annoying to the tomboyish assassin. Sure, she had known Judas was apparently an influential exec, but just how influential was she?


    It didn''t matter. Now that Judas had caught the pair of them, they were trapped. Best to just follow along with what the cruel domina wanted, rather than rebel and cause a huge scene, with the added malus of jailtime and likely the death sentence in Est''s case. Vitus''s elite always needed more donor blood, and while her limbs pumped nutrifluid, there was definitely real blood to be drained from somewhere inside the Italian...


    Judas slammed the drink in record time, making an already-tipsy Esper James (and an onlooking but silent Roth) do a double-take. It didn''t have the same effect on her that it did EJ, of course: while the veins and sinews of her exposed neck seemed to respond, muscles tightening therein, it was nowhere near the visceral, rippling effect that it had on the ghoulette. She seemed emboldened, if anything - standing tall, straight as an arrow, her unnatural aura of dominance exerted now to full effect.


    No longer was it just her presence that made the knees of her secretary wobble as a newborn deer, it was that pheromonal impulse inherent in all vampires, their so-called psionic ability. In truth, no one knew what exactly it was, but medical reports released by Tsang and Vitus''s local government alike chalked it up to pheromones, able to provide subliminal urges to obey and act upon unspoken desires. The desires in question? Those of the vampire, of course. They hadn''t reached the top of the second-living food chain simply through being the best.


    "Alright, then, ladies. Let''s... Let''s head out to the dancefloor. Both of you stay close to me, and we''ll all have a great evening. After that? You''re both free to go. I''ll pull my strings to make the corporate puppets dance, and then... A normal life for the both of you. No more killing people, though." Her fangs were teased to the others in a smug grin, eyes narrowing again as she surveyed her two playmates for the evening. Est''s shoulders slumped in what she hoped seemed to be feigned reluctance, though there was very real relief within her.


    EJ nodded fervently, her empty cup already forgotten as she dropped it to the club floor so that she might embrace Judas, a pathetic display of submission. She was as a groveling dog desperate for its master''s touch, already too frazzled to remember why she was here in the first place or her spat with Purity, the alcohol setting in so quickly that all she could desire was the touch of a woman she had known in myriad ways.


    Judas was happy to oblige, though one arm was spared - stretched up and out, opening up the opportunity for Esthrielle to join EJ in the warmth of offered affection. The Wayfinder nearly spat on the ground at the wordless offering, but after a scant few seconds to actually consider it, she found herself drawing close and resting her own head inches from EJ''s own, the both of them pressed to Judas''s torso. It was warmer than most undead - in fact, with the addition of the blood from moments ago, it was becoming ovenlike.


    "Good, good... Both of you know your place. This will be the only time I say this so explicitly, but... If you two disappoint me tonight? If you don''t show me a good time? If I find that you''ve been hiding away from me just to then be boring when I catch you? Well, I won''t be so merciful. Do what I want, don''t get sent to IRE." She set her head askew, facing down towards the pair of bullied beauties at her torso, and gave them each a gentle kiss on the forehead.


    Just as it always did, this left a fiery tingle like that of a branding iron upon EJ''s flesh, but also as always, the sensation was more akin to ecstasy than agony. It caused her to shiver, to lean with further insistence into Judas and Est both, to yearn for her boss''s touch. It was like a drug, the love of a vampire, even if it wasn''t so much true love as it was sadistic play.


    Esthrielle, too, was affected. In fact, she was shocked as her bare skin was given a euphoria previously unfamiliar, the hair on her neck raising up, her closed eyes snapping open for a mere moment. But the physical sensation concentrated on her remaining organic parts was not nearly as alarming as the literal alarms that went off in her head, displayed on the AR-interlink of her inorganic eyes. Her limbs were failing. Whatever Judas had just done to her, she was weakened as a response - legs barely strong enough to stand, arms barely strong enough to cling.


    She grit her prosthetic teeth and bore with it, shutting her eyes again in a furrow-browed scowl. Cooling distaste for the second-living was renewed in humorous form as she damned Judas for being able to dull her back to base humanity with naught but a kiss. Esthrielle was suffering outwardly while inwardly delighted by the sudden, intoxicating display of some kind of affection - EJ, in turn, was thrilled to have been given such a gift so quickly after making amends.


    Judas held them there for a handful of moments, letting the seconds while away as grindcore sound and industrial thrill wrought itself upon the Jezzebelle''s attendees. Her left hand gestured to a yet-still-watching Roth for three more of the same, one without blood. Oh, she would get Esthrielle to drink blood one of these days, perhaps before the night''s end. But it was a bucket-list goal. Something that could wait until she had bent the cyborg''s autonomous body into a more pleasing, docile shape.


    As the drinks were presented, Judas allowed her playmates their freedom, gesturing to the libations. "Alright, ladies, drink up. I don''t want to have spent all this time in this little zoo you call a fun time for nothing. I want the both of you good and fucked up... Maybe then I''ll let you go, hmm~?" She winked and began to cackle even as EJ rushed to grab her own drink, Est less hurried but no less eager to take her own.


    Tonight was going to be a long fucking night, thought Est. Maybe they should''ve just stayed home...

 Act Two (Ch. 36) - Not An Interlude!; or, Playthings

    The drinks went down easy for the dead, and torturously for the living. Est had had a lot of internal replacements, her whole torso less of a singular, unaltered base, and more of a shell stuffed to the gills with an assortment of chrome and silicone. However, despite all this, veritably spitting in the face of her other inorganic viscera, one of the few red-meat remnants of her humanity was her liver. In tragic spite of technological advancements to the point of the sophisticated suite she had been equipped with, there existed no such thing as a liver replacement that also let you enjoy alcohol.


    And so, while the dead and her dominant felt slight pangs at the strength of the swill but nothing too major, Esthrielle was sent reeling after every gulp. Regardless, gulps they were - Est was no coward, she was strong, not bitch-made, and that meant no shitty drink (it was actually pretty tasty) from some Western drug den was gonna put her on her ass. Or so she thought and felt, at least. The truth was that a liver rarely abused healed from the callouses of abuse, and so a little went a long way.


    By the time that Esthrielle had glugged down the entirety of her drink, EJ had finished hers and started another, this one as well consigned to Judas''s tab. The vampire helped her toy steady itself as it emptied the glass into its mouth, ghoulish throat having relaxed to the point of letting the alcohol simply pour straight in. When you ate like a ghoul, things like gag reflexes were actively better to remove.


    Est slammed the glass back upon the countertop, gritting her teeth and pushing herself to a freed, quasi-isolated position from the two she had the misfortune of accompanying. EJ finished this third drink, too, in record time - staggering towards Judas involuntarily, trying subconsciously just to find something, anything to support her. Her body was tense to shame a tripwire, but the reaction was as much psychosomatic as the inverse - somewhere, distantly, through veils of primal instinct and pointed indoctrination, she knew what blood was supposed to do to her.


    But here and now, the very same day as her blood-feast with her newly-christened partner, the thrill was less physical, and more of a fabrication within her own synapses. The thunderstorm of the mind electric sent sensations both ghost and genuine across her physique, eliciting impromptu reactions: the bucking of hips, the shivering of the chest and arms, the chattering of teeth needing to bite. Judas was quick to tend to her.


    "Oooooh, EJ, you don''t look so good... That''s enough booze for you, then. Perk up. Focus on me. I own you, remember? You''re my good little pet? So act like one, and come with Est and I out to the dance floor..." The implication was clear to Est, and likely would have been even without Judas''s parting wink towards the autonomous assassin. The flirtatious gesture simply put the final nail in the coffin.


    Est choked back words laden with venomous spittle and caustic bile, her resentment over how EJ was being treated only near-matched with her vile, repulsive jealousy that she was getting that treatment. The only thing approaching touch and love that Esthrielle had ever known was the rough hand of the jailor, or the tender traces of Luca''s ministrations. There was no small amount of bitter sentiment within her mind at seeing this little Tsang flunkie, who had sworn she wouldn''t go back to them, fold immediately to the degrading display. She wished they could have swapped places.


    No, no, hold on, that was not normal - it wasn''t how Est thought at all, not in a thousand years. Something was wrong with her. Something that bitch Judas had done... Surely it was her, right? Surely. After all, Est had yet to even properly consider sex being something that happened around her, until, of course, she had walked in on Esper James and Purity''s closing remarks upon their liaison. She didn''t want sex, or even like sex, so why did the idea of dehumanization and submission before her sworn enemy appeal so undeniably?


    A quick ping on her biomonitor returned a result that made Esthrielle''s hands ball into fists, her brow furrowing into a glare to kill the world, directed towards a distracted Judas. *[ BLOODSTREAM CONTAMINANT DETECTED ]*. Her biomonitor feed was lighting up with red across the toxins board wherever vulnerabilities were concerned - a purpose-built contaminant to hit her in all her weakest points, mostly neurologically. It wouldn''t be long before she was completely debased by the chemical influence she was sure had snuck in through the earlier kiss.


    The idea of striking Judas came to mind then, of sucker-punching her as hard as Est could, just to get some final ''fuck-you'' in before she succumbed to whatever poison Judas had given her. She couldn''t bring herself to go through with it, though; couldn''t take the swing even if she was sure she was doomed. Some part of her wanted to believe that Judas wouldn''t simply kill her, especially not in a way that Est couldn''t avoid with a direct dose of groveling.


    And so she followed, even with her throat flooding slowly with the profane tang of her own bile. She wanted to vomit at the idea she had let herself get poisoned, and was still so desperate to do as she was told in hopes of being allowed to live. It was foul. Judas and EJ were like caricatures of what was wrong with the West in that moment: A dominant, greedy superior leading a submissive subordinate by the neck, making them dance even with a finger still around their collar. Although...


    Once they had made a presence on the all-too-crowded dancefloor, Judas took them in mostly-sober hands and arms, directing her women to provide exactly what Judas wanted. Judas herself took EJ''s front, dancing close, and hot, and dirty - her vampiric pressure sweeping away any thoughts save for those regarding Judas and Est from the inebriated secretary''s mind. EJ could feel her brain going blank, but there wasn''t anything close to reasonable she could do to stop it. Est, however, was directed to the blonde''s rear - hands on her hips, pelvis-to-pelvis, chest-to-back. EJ was obviously already too fucked up to be anything closely resembling lucid - another purposeful maneuver taken by her supervisor, for nothing more than kicks.


    The slowing of such mundane bodily functions as perspiration meant that the three could dance as steamy and sexual and outright needful as they liked. Est may have been sweating and panting despite herself as her implants began to weaken even further, mind ablaze with joy and terror in twin measure, but she was lucky to be the only one with enough of her truly organic self left to sweat. The tinned-fish press of body upon body from all around was exhausting and exhilarating, vile and vibrant, and it did little to tamp back down that bile lingering within Est''s throat. She did her best to appear genuine, and further pinpricks of self-reprimand tingled her heartsflesh as she came to the cruel revelation that it wasn''t as much a performance as she had thought it was.


    EJ was too drunk to disagree with the arrangement, her mind transported somewhere far away, reveling in the touch of her dual dance partners. Fingers in her hair as Judas toyed with her swaying head, keeping her face close to whatever Judas wanted to offer. Her ass, too, was given plenty of touch and regard: Est''s grip on EJ''s hips meant grinding was an easy task, one that allowed the Easterner to pantomime engagement while attempting to focus enough to gather her thoughts. However, between the alcohol in her system and the toxin that Judas had delivered, she found her normally-keen mental faculties dulled and dimmed as a light through a soaking-wet curtain.


    EJ''s body was warm, shockingly so; her hair was soft and silken; her motions were the swaying of a drunk, graceless but with a vulnerability and willingness to surrender that sent a thrill through her paired playmates. If she could think properly, she wouldn''t be quite so into this; instead, however, she was fuckered to shame a sailor on shore leave, and she couldn''t stop smiling. Est was cute, and she was finally willing to have fun with EJ; the hands on her hips were proof, right?


    If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    The way her hips bucked against EJ''s ass, loins pressing against concealed flesh with a growing sense of need despite the thrusting party''s supposed apprehension? The heavy breathing in EJ''s ear that even Est herself didn''t notice, desperate and hungry, tinged with the heat and humidity of a beast in rut? There wasn''t a doubt in the ghoul''s hazy brain of what they both wanted. She pressed back, moving away from Judas only with implied permission, all but offering herself up into the arms of the assassin. The perceptions of Est''s behavior were enough that, even had Judas not explicitly positioned Est behind her little toy to share, EJ would''ve given the doll some play.


    Judas stepped away a little, still running her hands along Esper James''s head, face, shoulders, and most greedily, her chest. She used the momentary exploration to keep dancing without taking up too much space on the floor, or too much attention from her plaything''s new objective. She needed to blend in to observe her cruelty at its height... She needed to see it with her own eyes, not just hear about it. She needed to be close enough to touch it. And so she played the wingwoman, EJ''s initial deference to her supervisor''s supervision melting away into unabashed craving for the toy that held her so lustfully, hips working to the rhythm of the extreme-metal war machine that howled from the Jezze''s speakers. She gasped in an amalgam of crisp, striking pain, and luxurious, white-hot pleasure as she felt Esthrielle bite into her neck.


    The steel fangs sunk in only a centimeter or two, but they broke the skin. Esper James could feel herself snap to attention and fade away from lucidity in a sickening, insatiable dichotomy that threatened to send her spiraling out of her own body for a moment. A loud, desperate sound erupted from her chest through her throat, tears of pain and pleasure welling in her eyes for a moment as she was momentarily drawn back to her night at Judas''s manse. She whined as wetness stained her pants, forced from her in response to the steel tips working their way into her muscles. Est''s fingers hooked into the waistband of the ghoul''s pants, pulling down and towards her own pelvis.


    EJ''s consciousness whipped left and right, back and forth, the very foundations of her drunken brain shaken with every dry-hump Esthrielle gave her. The toxin was really working its magic now, Judas was happy to see... She put a hand on either woman''s left shoulder, beginning to usher them slowly but surely across the dancefloor even as they dry-fucked right there on the dancefloor. People were watching. A few were taking pictures or videos, even. Not many; most were dancing, but EJ screaming in agonized ecstasy had drawn the eyes of some fellow partygoers without a doubt. Her grip was tested as EJ nearly fell, another pull-and-thrust of Est''s teeth practically disabling her from the knees down. The way she tumbled forwards, however, brought plenty more eyes to her.


    Not for her gracelessness, but for the way Est''s hold on her waistband and insistent motions, paired with falling down and away from Est, sent EJ''s sweatpants down to her knees. Est didn''t hesitate, grabbing the other girl by the partially-bare hips and nearly hooking her boyshorts down as well. Esper James was too far gone to even know to be embarrassed, too far gone to be aware that she should be ashamed. That was fine, Judas thought, helping a now somewhat-undressed EJ move through the crowd even as the camera-phones and hungry eyes of strangers feasted upon her innocence.


    Est pulled her teeth free, now - seeing EJ fall had been enough to snap her at least partially from her lust-driven haze, and now her priority was not to take the ghoul, but to follow the words of the vampire. She had been... lost. Lost to herself, to the world around her, to everyone and everything. The toxin of Judas''s vampiric interference had shut her out of her own mind and given the steering wheel to someone else, or so it felt. And now? Now that she was back in control, jacked in to the cockpit of her own mind? Link-port open to herself, letting her get into her own head like she should be?


    Nausea again, but more figurative than literal. Judas was obviously... obviously orchestrating something, or pulling their strings somehow, or getting them to do something they normally wouldn''t ever consider. Her eyes drooped to where EJ was stumbling forward at Judas''s command, watching the girl who was supposed to be her ward be brought into the bathroom by a woman who didn''t seem to have her best interests in mind. She didn''t even notice herself following along at first, assisting in keeping EJ rigid and awake, hands and hips greedy and needful even with a consciousness there to pilot the body.


    "Oh, EJ... sweet baby girl, we can pull your pants up in the bathroom. Don''t worry, it happens to everyone, let''s just get you and Est to the big stall..." Judas''s words sounded sweet, but upon her face, the smile of a gambler who''s won bigger than they thought was possible beamed down at the ghoulette''s back. EJ mumbled something back, her knees still trembling, her shoulder tensing and untensing as if trying to work free some sort of hidden poison caught within the arm''s web.


    The door was opened, the world''s most misfortunate corporate harem was shuffled inside and into the largest stall, and then it was as good as done. Judas brought her own phone out, leaning in the corner and keeping quiet now that the other two had come so close. Getting this on footage would be the ideal gift to herself... And Judas did so adore giving herself things.


    And so, when EJ''s brain slowed once again and she threw herself to Esthrielle, eyes watering and neck still smarting from the feeling of the bite, Judas was surprised by the lack of immediate, passionate reciprocation. She opened her mouth to speak, to attempt some half-assed improv reprimand because she couldn''t use her normal one for something like fucking a stranger, but Esthrielle beat the words on their way out.


    "A-Alright, Judas... I think I see what you''re thinking here, what you''re planning. Just... Can we go to yours at least, d-dude? Eugh... She''s so fucked up, Judas..." A strong ping of guilt echoed through Est like a resonant bell, but Judas simply shook her head and began to help EJ get some clothes on.


    "Yes, let''s head to mine... Then we can have as much wine as we want afterwards, plus you can make use of my toys... Heheheh, won''t it be odd being back there again~? Alright, fine. Let me call us a limo. Get her pants on for her in the meantime." And like that, Judas was gone - simply in another stall, using it for privacy, but for Est and EJ it may as well have been proper isolation. They could feel the tiring effect immediately, and EJ did actually fall this time, the adrenaline leaving her body and returning it to an exhausted, husk-like state.


    Est rushed to help her, going to sit down and then have EJ sit on her lap. Not before cutting EJ''s boyshorts free, though - they were ruined, and walking around in wet boyshorts is no fucking fun. As they both sat together, beginning to calm down and assess the situation, EJ still as riled as possible but willing to do what she was told, the truth of the matter came to fruition in Est''s previously escape-minded view. Fuck.


    Jesus fuck. How awful.

 Act Two (Ch. 37) - Cryonic Love Song; or, Floodlands

    The pretense of their evening had swiftly soured. From a nocturnal playdate at a familiar locale, somewhere EJ could socialize and receive the comfort of a familiar face or two, to the lair of an ebon-scaled dragon who hungered for blood. Potentially, she hungered for the humiliation of her enemies and property as well, but still. Esthrielle held the far-gone EJ to herself in the back of Judas''s limousine, the pair seated a few feet away from a smug, self-assured woman who had long since removed her anime girl top to instead don a long black trenchcoat from the trunk of the limousine.


    Judas crossed and uncrossed her legs, sipping at the same sort of saccharine bubbly that she had practically filled EJ to the brim with during their date all those days ago. She could scant refrain from smiling, eyes narrowed as a cat watches its prey, the inky midnight of her locks taking on an almost bluish-black colour from the flashing lights of the dense Vitus nightlife. Her rubies were locked onto Esthrielle and EJ in equal measure, though some of EJ''s share of the discerning observation was bestowed specifically upon her near-nudity. Her pants had been unceremoniously tossed into a pile on the far end of the limo''s interior; they had been uncomfortable for her, or so Judas insisted.


    Silence reigned. The dark, moody jazz that Judas was preferential to was the only notable, consistent sound within the vehicle''s rear, and even then, it was quite muted. Est glared daggers back towards Judas''s cocksure stare, an intangible struggle for dominance occurring even as the third passenger, the blonde, mumbled numbly and gnawed at one of Est''s arms. The Easterner knew she wouldn''t get Judas to back down; she couldn''t, even. The vampire was in her element, practically stone-sober despite it all, and in control of the situation as a whole. Est was none of those things.


    Finally, as they passed into the nicer part of town, Judas deigned fit to speak. "So... Enjoying yourselves, ladies? Having fun? Your bare ass is on my leather upholstery, EJ, and your little dollfriend is leaving her synthetic scent on everything. You two''re gonna make it up to me, aren''t you?" The words hung in the air like a verbal guillotine, just waiting for EJ to lay her neck beneath then blade. She was quick to acquiesce to Judas''s demands.


    "H-Huh? Oh, ahhhh... Yeah...! Yes''m, we''ll make it up to you soooooo damn good, Jude... We c''n start doin'' it right here in the back of the limo, whatev''r you''re thinkin''...." EJ was, frankly, too drunk to really know what she was saying. Est was pretty far gone, too, but not blackout bad like Esper James; instead, she was just a few leaps and bounds past tipsy on the scale. She clung protectively to the half-naked girl beside her, keeping EJ''s head rested upon the cyborg''s synthetic shoulder. She couldn''t help but part her lips at the exchange happening before her, suddenly invested enough to chime in with her two cents.


    "J-Judas, come the fuck on. Are you serious? We''re... We''re both pretty fucked, to be honest..." Esthrielle attempted to continue, but was halted in her tracks by the sudden and untimely eruption of a long, loud yawn from her throat. Her voice warbled so very gently as she freed it from herself, and once it was gone, her earlier bouts of adrenaline had faded into distant memories. It was as if she had undergone a full-body cleanse, wiping away the ages of dirt and debris and grime and gumming that her emotions had been subjected to in those past and distant years. She found her eyes a touch droopy as she looked to Judas, who was still smiling at her, at least until Est stopped paying her any mind - in that moment, Judas would curse her beneath her breath.


    Judas was quick to reply. "Oh, you''ll be even worse once I''m done with you, bitch. I''ve had enough of the East interfering with my plans, and I''m going to send you back to your worthless masters with your tail tucked so far between your legs, they''ll assume you got bottom surgery while you were here." She gave a conspiratorial wink to her subservient saboteur, making a one-sided toast into the air before draining the glass and going to pour more.


    Minutes ticked away now, Est feeling no need to actually interject any further or even attempt conversation, Judas more than happy to just watch from a distance, and EJ? She was too drunk on blood and genuine booze to lift a finger, to the point that she couldn''t function much at all save for the basics. Even her breathing was ragged and deliberate, not quite far-gone enough to pass out or lose function outright, but subtlety had been thrown out the window and run down long ago.


    Then, finally, the limousine slowed as it pulled into Judas''s little plot of land, parking momentarily so the trio could make their escape. Or, rather, so that the slave-mistress could gather up her new property and take them within her stronghold. Est supported EJ as they made their way within, Judas''s personal chauffeur more than happy to pull out of the driveway and disappear into the night as the women entered the manse. As before, Judas flipped just the right switches, and certain, mood-enhancing lighting sprang into being. The flames in the fireplace were among them.


    "Alright, ladies. Up to the master bedroom. EJ is more than familiar with where it is... And I''m sure you could hazard a guess, Est. After all, you were headed up to meet me, weren''t you?" Judas''s implacable, insidious smile was stuck firmly upon her face, teeth and fangs displayed in classic alabaster in the face of the limited luminance in the foyer. She gestured towards the path to the stairwell, and as if she were an automaton accepting new orders, EJ began to shamble forth with a distinct lack of coordination.


    Esthrielle rushed to meet her, letting the ghoulette go first if only so that, should worse come worse, she could catch the blonde and soften any drunken falls. The pair ascended at the carnivore''s pace, while Judas slipped away into the depths of the manse for who-knows-what. Est didn''t want to dwell on what she may be planning.


    Est wished she had a plan. Watching EJ''s supple rear take step after step, Est''s pheromone-addled brain was too occupied by a renewed desire to bite down as hard as she could upon the ghoulette''s soft flesh to attempt formulating a plan. She hated herself for it, hated herself down to her core, to the human heart that worked to pump what little blood remained in her. A ghoul? She wasn''t even interested in EJ, or so she felt. She didn''t want to fuck the blonde, she didn''t even want to kiss her. The platonic snuggling from that night had been as far as she wanted to go with the flesh-eating freak.


    And yet. With vampiric influence running hot and hard within her, the Wayward''s brain was a fucking mess. She was in denial, she knew, but whether that denial was of Judas''s intent or of her own feelings and desires was less clear. She thought back to the club... To the motion of her own hips, the soft push-back she had been given by EJ''s supple, pliant body, the way the blonde had screamed in white-hot pleasure at being bitten... Est''s face contorted in disgust, more at herself than anything else. She didn¡¯t want to consider whatever else she may have felt.


    The New Way was supposed to protect one from the mental warfare of the second-living. It was supposed to guard you, to shield you from their malicious machinations, to steel you against the storm one must weather in the city of the dead. And though she now walked through the valley of death, she feared one evil: her own weakness. Judas had broken every failsafe in her brain and body, setting each one of her limbs to a quasi-standby that Esthrielle couldn''t wake them from, and infected her mind with a repulsive lust that was stronger than any drug.


    And her end goal, it seemed? Get Est and EJ to fuck, while she watched. Get evidence of Est''s failure to stay strong, evidence of Est''s failure to save herself. In prisoner situations, where escape was impossible, Waywards within the Knights of St. Lazarus were equipped with an internal failsafe. Or, in common terms, a bomb. Est could activate it with only a thought, could blow an entire floor of this building sky-high, could go out with a bang rather than a whimper. And yet? She couldn''t bring herself to do it.


    Her thoughts screamed at her like the jailors of Venice. Disparagement. Hatred. Venom. Evil. She laid it all upon herself in the face of her own cowardice: cowardice to help herself, if not EJ. Cowardice to take any action at all to try and strike back against Judas. It was true, she hadn''t been truthful with EJ earlier: she still held her hatred for the undead, but it had merely diminished, not been quelled. Esper James was one of the good ones, perhaps even the only good one, from what Est had seen of the hellacious conditions in Vitus. To call any who perpetuated this strife and poverty ''good'', or even to spare them the blade of hatred, would be a laughable offense.


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    Finally, they made it to the top floor. Everything was as Est remembered it, at least what she had seen on the way up - the top floor was new to her, but any idle wonder she may have held for the unexplored environs were quickly washed away once her drunken date stumbled into the master bedroom. Laying eyes up on it, every last scrap of - what she perceived as, at least - Western degeneracy set her stomach ill at ease. The toys alone were enough to inspire disgust, but seeing the apparatuses that Judas used to extract every last drop of joy from her dates caused Esthrielle to bare her teeth in displeasure.


    She briefly imagined the blonde walking in before her up in one of those devices: cuffed to the wooden X against the wall, bound upon the sawhorse, locked within the pillory... The stirring in the Easterner''s loins only worsened her mood at the prospect of excitement from such depravity. She turned away, that is to say she looked to the floor, and only looked up once EJ''s feet disappeared from view and were replaced by a rich crimson bedspread.


    The ghoulette had flopped unceremoniously onto the bed, and was already in the middle of shimmying out of her hoodie. The siren song of EJ''s nudity set a great flame of hunger alight within Esthrielle''s heart and thighs, one that she felt assured only existed because of the sanguine influence which yet lingered within her like a clinging, cloying toxin. In moments EJ was completely nude, her only piece of clothing tossed to the ground like a discarded rag. EJ''s emerald eyes, shining with optimism but dulled by drink, set upon Est with a glimmer of excitement.


    "Eeeeeest~! Est, you''re so cute, oh my godddddd. I can''t believe we''re gonna, y''know...!" She cut herself off with a spate of mirth, giggles rising up like bubbles from a wand, popping in the air and spraying her amusement upon the land below. Esthrielle remained dry in this regard. The synth-skinned foreigner took a few steps closer, going to peel her own clothing away as she did, proceeding with surprising speed given her own trepidation and unease with the situation. She didn''t want to give Judas the enjoyment of watching her strip, at the very least.


    Est had yet to even free herself of one layer of fabric before Esper James''s body made its own anticipation known, only feeding that foul flame in the Wayward''s centre. She hadn''t lain with anyone since being freed by Luca all those years ago, hadn''t known the touch of another in countless days and weeks, hadn''t even considered the possibility. Her sojourn to the UNAC had been for business, not pleasure, and back in Venice, no woman or man would give her the time of day, much less touch her. She had been born impoverished and cast into criminality; she was an outcast even within the Knights.


    The idea of the validation of coital compromise caused Est''s face to screw up in a new way, features twisted in a new expression she had never made nor felt inclined to. It felt like a frown, but one that was satisfying to make - a scowl of delight, a glare of guilty joy. There was a tingling about her chest and arms and hips and loins, body suddenly awash with a sensation similar to falling and being compressed all at once. It only intensified as her eyes roved over Esper James''s exposed body.


    A voice from behind her spurred her to whip around, dragging her up and out of the headspace she had been pushed down into, the sudden shift in emotions and trains of thought unpleasant in the utmost. Judas stood leaned against the doorframe, having made a surprising quick-change into a suggestive black nightgown - long and flowy, yet sheer in all the right places to accentuate her feminine form. It infuriated Est that much more that Judas was actually fairly attractive.


    "Heyyyyy, loves... Are my playthings already getting to it? You didn''t get permission, sweetheart... But I''ll forgive you. This time. Get naked, Est; I''ve always wanted to see what a Wayward looks like beneath her armor, but my boss never lets me play with the captives. Good thing I''ve got you, then, isn''t it?" Judas licked her teeth, running her pointed tongue along her upper row, letting the pinkish-red flesh of it graze upon her fangs sensually. Est managed to hold back a scoff.


    "Fuck you. I''m only doing this because you''re forcing me to." Est spat upon the hardwood near Judas''s feet, incensed enough to make the gesture but not enough to actually touch her captor with it. Judas simply smirked, going to take a few steps closer, drawing up to Esthrielle enough to gently press their chests together when she loomed over the terrorist. The sanguophage''s thumbs hooked into the waistband of Est''s pants, beginning to draw them downwards.


    "It wouldn''t be fun for me if I didn''t force you to, bitch. The only reason you''re even still alive right now is because Esper James is near and dear to my heart, and so I didn''t want to traumatize her... At least, not in that way. I''m sure she''s gotten plenty of mental scars from my treatment over the years~" Judas winked at Est, making the latter woman sneer in further disdain - until Judas leaned down that much more, their lips locking, Judas taking her own enjoyment from the Wayward''s mouth. Their tongues wrestled briefly, but Judas was less interested in directly pleasuring herself with Est, and more with employing Est as one would an intimate toy.


    Once the kiss was broken, so was their proximity. The hands at Est''s waistband came away, one coming up to put a palm upon her sternum and push her back and away so that she stumbled onto EJ''s lap. Her undergarments were still present, preventing any contact that would be too untoward, but feeling Esper James''s lust press between her rear like that sent a shocking jolt of excitement up Est''s spine. The kiss, the tongue, the swapping of spit? It had only renewed the effect, refreshed it and reinforced it in a single action.


    Esthrielle was suddenly burning up with need. Her body felt hot, her panties were damp, and her heart pounded like a taiko performing a war-march. She suddenly wanted this, needed this, didn''t give less of a fuck if Judas was benefiting from orchestrating this perverse performance. The blood thrumming in her ears drowned out the sound of Judas shutting and locking the door, as well as the sounds of the vampiress pulling up a lavish, padded chair more akin to a throne, and drawing up her phone to begin recording.


    Esthrielle was completely bared in mere moments, and Judas was given what she wanted, while Est began to give EJ what she felt she needed. There was no love, no affection in the motions; the amorous nature of Purity''s ministrations or even Judas''s discipline were the height of romance by comparison to Esthrielle''s inexperienced, needful attentions. Grace was completely foregone in the face of a primal hunger for touch that only the flesh of another could sate.


    EJ, by comparison, was more than happy to be little more than a fixture for Esthrielle to fulfill her desires upon. From where she lay, she was given every bit of pleasure that Esthrielle could squeeze from herself for the blonde''s benefit - and, being too drunk and aroused to give any real thought to the situation, she found herself glued to the spot and enjoying every second of it. It was delightful to learn that Wayward bodies felt just as warm, soft, and exciting as those of Vitus''s own organic living - never mind the fact that Esthrielle was still mostly organic. Details, details.


    From where she sat, Judas received a glut of what she craved: material to torment the pair of women, a record of their actions in the depths of drunken, lustful stupor to hold over their heads as one held a hammer above an unruly nail. Every gyration of their loins was as valuable as gold to the vampiric voyeur - every drawn-out moan, every cry of delight, every motion of the hands or the hips or anything in-between as pure and precious as could be. No earthly analog could be made, for nothing was more satisfying for the sanguine sadist than this display of power: power over her subordinates in the West, and the interlopers of the East. Their union beneath her own sinister sway was so much more gratifying than joining in could ever be.


    By the first climax, Esthrielle was already panting with effort, sweat dappling both synthetic and organic flesh. But with a word from Judas, she knew her work was far from done. She wasn''t allowed to finish until Judas was satisfied. Unfortunately for her, or perhaps fortunately, given her unnatural thirst, Judas''s standards - her expectations - were difficult to reach indeed.

 // Act Two End // (Ch. 38) - Nachwehen; or, Love Cats

    The night seemed to drag on indefinitely. After some time and some sobering-up of an empty-headed little ghoulette, the bedbound pair were allowed to trade places, and then, after further exertion on all ends but Judas''s, the finality of satiation arrived. The vampire pressed a button on the screen of her phone to finish recording, then gesturing to the now-breathless pair on her mattress to cease their forced, feverish passions. The cruel taskmistress cackled with sinister delight, every note of her mirth hitting Esthrielle''s dazed brain like a blow from a hammer.


    Judas slowly, deliberately uncrossed her legs and rose up to a full stand. "Ladies? Admirable performance. Esthrielle? I commend your... vigor, we''ll say. EJ, sweetie, if you''re not passed out? Take a rest, sweetheart... I''m sure you''re pretty worn out from being put through your paces like that." Judas snickered as soon as the sentence finished, eyes crinkling at the corners, bare feet making less than a sound as she drifted ethereally towards the bed. Once she was close enough to touch the pair, her spare hand reached forth to run its fingers along EJ''s back from tailbone up towards the nape of her neck; she only removed it to offer an inverse action to Est, trailing from her sternum to just above her dignity.


    Est wished she had the energy to recoil in disgust at the vampire''s touch; she lamented that she did not.


    Judas licked her lips slowly, deliberately, pulling them back somewhat to bare her perfect ivories for the women on the bed. From where EJ lay panting and barely-conscious over Est''s frame, she couldn''t see the display; Esthrielle herself was the only audience for Judas''s joy. She hadn''t the power to spit at her like she initially desired, but upon further consideration, that was probably just what Judas wanted. This whole night had been an attempt to break Est and EJ''s respective wills. She wouldn''t give that bitch the satisfaction of it.


    Judas leaned down over the pair of them, her soft, silken robe brushing along both women''s skin as she did. Her thin lips fell back over her teeth as she gave Esper James a kiss on the nape of the neck, leaving lipstick marks with a distinct indent of her fangs she had pressed in as well. Esthrielle felt nausea roil in her worn-out core as Judas then deigned to bestow a horrid semblance of affection on her as well; their lips pressed together, and when Judas''s tongue knocked, Est opened the door for her to enter.


    Est''s face screwed up at the taste of blood Judas brought with her, her fingers digging into the comforter in an effort to keep herself sane. Secondhand blood, booze, and vampiric influence drizzled soft and sweet and saccharine into Est''s mouth, painting her tongue as it painted her brain, her already-hazy vision beginning to swim as Judas explored the Wayward''s mouth. She couldn''t keep herself from letting her eyes fall shut.


    Minutes passed, and then Judas pulled away - her tongue allowed to trail inches behind her mouth, a thin string of crimson-tinted spit linking her back to Est''s own lips and teeth before the distance became enough to make it snap. Judas flipped her hair back over her shoulders, a smug expression of utter superiority gazing down at Est with the heat of an oven and the icy chill of winter''s kiss. Est rolled her tongue around a few times in her mouth, blinking away at the nearly-blinding effect of Judas''s spit.


    "Ohhhhh, Est... God, you taste good, don''t you? The heat of a mortal feels good to press up against, to be honest with you... EJ? She''s lovely. Adorable. Submissive. A perfect little plaything to order around. But she doesn''t have the heat of a real person, the taste of proper, hot blood and flesh and unaltered bodily fluids. Every part of her is dead, you know? Whatever, you probably can''t even hear me, hahahaha..." Judas trailed off as she laughed, breaking her stare towards Est, drifting now towards the door of the bedroom. She flicked the light.


    "Alright, cuties... Rest well, yeah? Sun''s almost up. Once day breaks, I''ll come snuggle, steal more of your warmth from you... A couple of bitches in my bed to lay on and under like pillows and blanket? I''m a very lucky woman, hahaha!" And with that, she was gone. The door softly clicked as it was shut, and the pair were left alone without a dominatrix to abuse them.


    In the darkness and the still, EJ found the wherewithal to prop herself up - arms going to either side of Est''s torso, pulling a bedraggled face still sticky from someone else''s sweat up from Esthrielle''s chest. She felt herself trembling from stimulants still pinging around her system, whole body barely holding itself together, but she still managed an apologetic, remorseful smile. Est recoiled a bit at the exposure of the fangs.


    "Hey, Est... Phew, hahaha... Wow, uh... Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. I don''t even k-know what to say, but like, still... I feel like I should say something in the end, yeah? I''m... sorry. I''m sorry for everything. Sorry that I didn''t have the-" She was cut off by a synthetic finger pressing to her lips. Beneath her, Esthrielle finally could drop her stoic facade, and tears began to well in her eyes with the heat and sting of boiling acid. Her lower lip trembled as she fought herself to speak, but after blinking hard and pressing the tears from her eyes to run down her cheeks, she managed.


    "EJ, it''s... It''s not your fault. It''s not l-like, like, l-l-like you... Like you called her to find us, you know? And I can''t blame you for not being able to stand up to her. I couldn''t, either. We were p-powerless, and our only option was to do what she wanted, or..." She had found the power to speak prior, but the natural extent of disobedience to Judas was too much for her. All her life she had been powerless. The Knights made her feel independent, but once again, she was back to square one.


    Seeing Est''s tears, EJ found herself beginning to cry in kind. They fell about themselves in tears, bodies stained with shared wetness, the warmth of Judas''s home and bed feeling more and more oppressive as the moment drew on. EJ laid her head on Est''s shoulder to cry, and Est put a hand there to keep her close, the pair needing the embrace and tears with a desperation rivaling addiction. The horror of it all was dwarfed by the melancholic sense of helplessness, and the depression it brought.


    It reminded Esthrielle of her years of imprisonment, in more senses than less. The cruelty of her abusers in Italia paled in comparison to Judas''s sadism, but the similarities were too much to deny, and this weighed on her even more heavily than the reality of the night''s actions. She could feel the old trauma rise up like a flooding well, the tendrils of repressed pains worming their way into her mind, past the blockers both she and her patrons had installed.


    In the end, both Esthrielle and EJ wound down to mere whimpers and silent, dry sobs of justified self-pity. EJ''s mind was racing as best it could after the exertion, neurons attempting to fire but exhaustion wearing them down. In a way, it was ok that Judas abused her, because in Esper James''s mind, she had been Judas''s subordinate for so long that she had grown accustomed to the cruelty. Judas owned her, body and soul, and she had long since been indoctrinated into following Judas''s orders to the letter.


    But now, Judas had gone too far. Judas had hurt someone innocent, or at least as innocent as one could be, in EJ''s mind. Esthrielle hadn''t done anything wrong, she had been trying to keep EJ safe, trying to ensure that no one caught her or stole her or anything of the sort. It wasn''t the first time that Est had protected Esper James, either. She could recall when Est had first met her: the would-be rapist, the splatter of his entrails, the spray of his blood. The scent of burning flesh.


    But Est was a good person.


    Est didn''t deserve to be caught up in Judas''s machinations. She didn''t deserve to be hurt by the raven-haired ravager, that cruel, hateful woman with the golden fangs. Unconsciously, the mirror of Est''s own life was drawn up in EJ''s mind, and that only drove the knife deeper. The parallel they shared was not lost on her in the moment, seeing what Judas could truly inflict to those who didn''t deserve such affliction by even an inch.


    Amidst the sorrow, a ghostly spectre of rage began to make itself known - flitting between the shadows within EJ''s psyche, an emotion rarely, if ever, reserved for Judas. The usual complacent resignation to her own misery was absent; slain, even. In its place, fury and indignation lingered in phantasmal form. It was unusual, nauseating in its own right, disorienting even as she laid still upon Est''s warm, damp form.


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    She resolved to consider it further on her own time - instead, Esthrielle needed her right now. They needed one another. They had both suffered injustice, and so only by banding together could solace be found in their hearts, or so Esper James felt. She turned her head to put her lips inches from Est''s ear, whispering as tenderly as she could manage, words as soft and cushioned as down pillows.


    "Hey, Est... Let''s... Let''s get in bed and sleep. Before she gets back. I, uh... I don''t think anything g-good will come from us... Staying u-up and longer. I''d... I''d really like to, uh..." Trailing off once again, EJ blushed in awkward shame in the darkened room; thankfully, Est knew what she was trying to say, and nodded in the affirmative. They both scrambled to get into bed and slip under the covers, clinging close to one another despite revulsion at their previous kind of closeness. It was mere moments before the silence of slumber swept them both away.


    -


    In the evening, when they awoke, they were drawn up by the gentle purr of a large, midnight-blue form sitting at the foot of the bed. Esper James was the first to blink sleep from her eyes, her whole body aching horribly as if she had been beaten, her brain barely able to process the audio-visual input being delivered to it in a steady syrup flow. She felt Esthrielle''s body against her own, arms around one another''s backs, legs intermingled. She was just as warm as Judas had said, and there was a pleasantness to the scent of living flesh that EJ couldn''t quite enjoy yet.


    In her newly-sobered mind, EJ suddenly was wracked with a terrible sense of guilt and pain. Oh fuck. Purity. They had left her alone in the industrial district with Kell, without saying a thing to her about the situation, not even the briefest of messages to let her know what was going on. She probably thought EJ was mad at her, that she was off fucking around just to spite her. Oh god. That idea drove a knife hilt-deep into the ghoulette''s slow-beating heart, shooting stinging pangs of panic into her body from head to toe.


    But then, as she began to push herself up - taking note of a distinct lack of Judas in the bed - she became aware of the purring form at the foot of the bed. She froze as she noticed it, sore and weary muscles forcing themselves to remain taut and firm if only so that she could be at attention in case of a threat. She had only seen a beast like this once before, in her recollection - or at least, once in the flesh, and once in her dream.


    The cat raised its head. Twin yellow eyes with pupils too long, too thin locked upon EJ''s own. The way its muzzle rolled back to show its teeth, it was almost smiling at her. The expression sent EJ into a whirlwind of panic, the entity of her worst waking nightmares nearly instigating a panic attack on the spot. She felt that feral pull to frenzy, to give in to the madness of meat-hunger, but as she thought of biting Est and taking of her what she craved, she couldn''t. She couldn''t bring herself to. The idea of inflicting further cruelty upon the Wayward stopped her dead in her tracks even as her fangs touched the air from a slowly-opened maw.


    The cat''s smile seemed to wane somewhat; its purring, however, grew louder. It made no attempt to move, it didn''t budge in the slightest, simply observing EJ from a distance and rumbling like a dated handheld system. EJ''s breath, which had been caught in her throat, released only to draw in and hold a new gasp as the instinct to give in came again, in more extreme force. Thankfully, as she resisted, it became easier to focus on - devoting herself fully, wholly to it, remaining statuesque in her immobility, found her having less and less difficulty holding back.


    The cat now stood, pawing closer. Its eyes, glowing in the darkened room like LEDs, remained locked on EJ''s own as if those of a desperate hypnotist who needed to prove his craft to an unbeliever. EJ did not falter - not this time. The last time she had felt this push, this sway, she had to be fed human meat to feel ok again. She had hurt Purity. She had lost all control. This time, however, she was determined - even if it resulted in her own death, or destruction, or what-have-you - to hold out.


    That midnight-blue cat was close enough to nuzzle at EJ''s chest now, and it did so. It smelled like crematory ashes and feline musk, and was far too large for any normal cat. Beside her, Est rolled in her sleep, groaning softly as if pained; in EJ''s mind, once again, the urge to bite something, anything screamed loudly. A banshee wail within the confines of her mental theatre, urging her to commit further atrocities no matter how badly she didn''t want to.


    The cat pawed at her face, and in that moment, she gave in. The urge to bite, to chew, was too strong. Too overwhelming. Too... opportune, in her mind. As it pawed at her face, bopping her nose, then going to play at her cheek... EJ''s already opened mouth struck. She gave in to the stimulant rush of feral degeneration, fangs and maw rushing forth to flense the cat''s leg with alabaster knives, cleaving meat and bone from their kin. The cat recoiled and yowled in pain and shock, setting Est to begin stirring, blearily going to awaken.


    EJ wasn''t satisfied, but in her own way, she was of lucid mind - giving in willingly after fighting it had given her at least that, at least some sense of control. She had suffered so much recently at the hands of Tsang, of Judas, of this stupid fucking cat, that now every emotion telling her to kill and eat was directed towards the abnormal feline. Plus, the cat''s leg in her mouth that she quickly stripped of meat and crunched down, tasted good. The blood was good.


    She felt her muscles ripple with newfound strength, flexing and writhing of their own volition, a subdermal crackling of lightning as she surged forth. The cat tried to stumble back on its three remaining paws, but unused to missing an entire leg, faltered and flopped to the floor. Its yowls of distressed were quickly silenced at EJ was upon it, meat taken swiftly and greedily, blood guzzled and gulped with the fury of a vortex. She could feel herself getting bloodbound, getting far too roaring-drunk off of this animal''s nectar, but its effect was even more intense than the pig''s blood they sold in stores.


    She was a messy eater when table manners didn''t seem to matter. Fur and flesh and blood and bone disappeared down her gullet in record speeds, the cat''s corpse left less than distinguishable as to what it had once been, if not for the feline head at the top. Crimson droplets painted EJ''s bare chest and clawed fingers and throat and face, just about every inch of her front-facing side now scarlet with delight. She couldn''t deny that this release, the euphoria of it all, had aroused her as well, and she guiltily looked towards a slowly-waking Esthrielle before admonishing herself for even having such thoughts. It disgusted her that intrusive ideas like that had come so easily.


    As the feral frenzy began to wind down, her craving for flesh sated, she looked back towards the cat. Something began to nag at her as the extreme of her high mulled down to a pleasant shimmer. The frenzy of the second-living was only supposed to diminish when they consumed sapient, human flesh. When they ate of their own still-living kin. When they consumed the meat and drank the blood of mankind. Murderers all, like a distant race of sinners condemned to evil at the slightest slip in willpower.


    So why had this bizarre creature sated her? She hadn''t the time to consider it further as she heard Esthrielle prop herself up and scream, the visual cacophony of seeing Esper James, covered in blood, hunched over the mangled corpse of a housecat the size of a German shepherd was simply too much for the Wayward. She rushed to stand beside the bed, hastily throwing aside the covers as she activated her ocular implants to adapt to the darkness.


    "EJ! What the fuck?! What are you doing - what the fuck happened? Are you eating a fucking cat right now?! Where did that fucking cat even come from anyways, much less like, you fucking eating it! Jesus Christ in Heaven, what the Hell?" Est was frantic, and while she initially went to rush to EJ, she thought better of it upon really realizing what seemed to be happening. Instead, a silence hung as she awaited an answer to her inquiries, apprehensive and visibly anxious of the potential danger in the situation.


    EJ wasn''t sure she had any answers for her, either.

 \\ Act Three Begin \\ (Ch. 39) - Hau Ruck; or, Arrogant Young Master

    In the basement, a monitor flatlined.


    Someone''s fist slammed hard against the monitoring equipment therein; behind a many-locked door lay a nest more at home in an espionage film or a CIA black-site than the underbelly of a lavish, sanguine manse. Clad now in black leather driving gloves, the rest of her draped in iconic Tsang-executive finery such as an ebon-and-pinstripe-white suit and slacks, with the inner layer a striking scarlet as opposed to remaining black as the exterior, the mistress of the household took some moments to herself to observe the zeroed vitals. Biomonitoring was easy - Tsang''s methods of bioengineering, if you could really call it that after you''d seen behind the curtain, allowed constant feeds and feedback on status.


    The specimen''s status now read like a patient who died on the slab. No heartrate to be found - likely because the heart itself had been ripped from the specimen''s torso and consumed. Her quarry''s heart, on a different monitor, was racing. Spikes in adrenaline and dopamine production were registering all across the chart, the stomach displaying the logical end to second-living consumption, the rest of the body... The woman couldn''t help but smile at the current concentrations of blood, even through her rage.


    That specimen had taken years to produce, not even considering the R&D that had gone into its production. An effort which slipped away like sand in an hourglass to the mind of a vampire, it was true, but just because she could live and wait forever didn''t mean the UNAC could. Didn''t mean her boss would. It would take at least another four to five to grow another, and the manpower required for such an endeavor? The constant monitoring? The testing? People were starting to ask questions at a street-level. Unrest was growing. She couldn''t deny it forever.


    None of them could. They needed results. And frankly, while the specimen had been killed messily - and she''d probably need to send out an urgent call to a 24/7 crisis cleanup crew - the other results had been excellent. Her own greed may have tainted the entire thing, as it always seemed to do, but still... The results? The biomonitor recordings of her quarry, the psychosomatic response as well as the somapsychotic? Thrilling. The target wasn''t one in a trillion, it was true, but one in a billion was just as good. All they needed was some more genetic material.


    Another smirk, and even a laugh. Not the kind of genetic material she had her many hounds retrieving for her dutifully, skulking the clubs and dungeons of Vitus, desperate enough for a payday they''d stoop to comical levels of degradation. And one of them had even picked up her target in the first place - made the vampire aware that what she''d been looking for was right underneath her boot the entire time. But no, a different type of sample was needed... One that was more and less intimate in equal measure.


    She daydreamed about the acquisition for a moment or two more, before the biomonitor of her quarry lit up like a Christmas tree as a fear response was triggered. Fuck. Without the specimen''s link, and without direct access, that little bitch with the sharp teeth would just rampage and flee and probably go find somewhere to cry. Plus there was no way that she had taken the bait and followed her impulse down, so now there was a Wayward loose in the house, too. Fuck, fuck, fuck.


    So much for bringing her in easy.


    -


    Esper James remained in her little hunch, looming over a mostly-consumed feline corpse, blood dripping from her fingertips (which were more akin to claws, now - a strange little addition to her descent) and her chin, blonde hair splattered with sticky crimson essence. It tasted beautiful, like hot soup in a terrible blizzard or the sweetness of tobacco after a spate of withdrawal, but she knew how bad it must look. Esthrielle''s reaction alone was enough to cause her to shiver as her adrenal glands desperately, weakly, exhaustedly squeezed themselves dry in response to a fresh Hell of fear.


    "Est...! I-I-I... I... This f-fucked up, uh... F-Fucked up cat, thing, it... I think it was... Every time I''ve s-seen it, it''s made me feel so unstable, so scared, so out of control of my own a-a-actions... I..." She stumbled through it as hastily as she could, even as her teeth and tongue fought her at every turn to form the words. Esthrielle grit her teeth and flexed her left arm - a seamless plate on her forearm retracted, and a slender silvered fighting knife slid out and into her hand. The plate returned to its previous position as Est readied herself.


    "So what? You don''t like cats, so you fucking ate this one? You decided you''d had enough of Judas''s pet, so you fucking tore it to shreds?!" She assumed a defensive stance, ready for a scrap if EJ so much as fell towards her, but Esper James was only ready to cry and beg forgiveness. The ghoulette broke down sobbing as she saw the trust in Esthrielle''s eyes flit away as so much dust before a firm breath, catching the light for a moment as it disappeared. Esthrielle had no sympathy at first, but the longer she watched, the heavier her blade-arm felt.


    Eventually, the Wayward lowered her blade, and with the soft hiss of pneumatics, it was returned to where it had once been. She stepped forth, all of her instincts telling her not to get closer to this bloodthirsty, flesh-eating monster, but where her subconscious would normally have ruled her, her active mind forced its way past any preconceptions of what may happen. She thought back to that night in the industrial district, the last time she had been in this manse. She thought of how they had shared a kinship in the oppression they both were subjected to. Their helplessness in a world so cruel as to inflict such inescapable torment.


    She thought of the gunshot, purposefully sent wide, but still close enough that it could be argued as a near-miss from shaky hands. And lastly, she thought of the fear and pain, the desperation and sorrow in EJ''s eyes the night they had met. There was no way that this little girl, barely of the strength to stand, much less speak, would attack her. Would harm her. And so, Esthrielle forced her legs onwards, step after step, until the two were inches from one another. She knelt.


    Almost immediately, Esper James pounced. Not to kill, nor to bite... but for an embrace, desperate for anything, any kind of affection at all in the depths of her instability. Esthrielle''s arms were about her in a split-second, squeezing her tight with all the strength her synthetic limbs could muster, still weakened by Judas''s touch but having regained some of her prior ability. The two tumbled back, falling to the floor with EJ landing atop Est, but neither one cared. Est didn''t even register the sensation of EJ''s blood-slick torso smearing itself against her own, the both of them now marred by vital fluids.


    They laid like this for still, silent minutes, moments uncounted, nothing but a shared sense of resignation and the sound of sobbing to pierce the deafening absence of sound. Only when Est began to rise, movements hurried and insistent, did EJ open her eyelids and gaze upon her guardian. Est had re-produced her fighting knife, free hand ripping the door off of Judas''s closet and snatching a pair of long, lavish robes, the easiest thing she saw to don quickly. One was given to Esper James; one was retained for herself.


    "EJ. Get dressed. Now. Just this. We''ve gotta leave, now. I can hear footsteps on the ground floor - boots. We have about twenty seconds, at most, until they hit the top floor. We''ve gotta leave." Even as she was speaking, she threw the robe about herself - as midnight black as most of Judas''s other attire, velveteen and plush. EJ''s robe was crimson and silky, dainty and thin, and sheer enough that it wouldn''t provide any modesty under scrutiny. Oh well. The ghoulette was frantic to do as she was told, the blood and flesh still ringing in her brain, giving her energy that her body didn''t really have the resources to expend.


    Stolen novel; please report.


    The boots were audible for EJ, too, she soon found. If she focused on it, focused on trying to hear them... Slowly but surely, the resonance of rubber bootheels against lacquered hardwood began to pound through her skull. It made her ears burn, made her eyes water with its intensity after only a few moments, so much so that she had to focus on something - anything else. She chose to focus on the way her body felt, against the now-cooled blood and the grey silken shroud she found herself wrapped in, the cloth quickly becoming wet and even somewhat slimy from the cooling fluids.


    Every part of her felt new. Every single aspect of her physique was as if a veil had been lifted from her mind, and she was realizing she had a body for the first time in her entire life. It was like waking from a dream, or lifting your face from a pool of water, seeing with new eyes, feeling with new nerves. She had never heard of this kind of experience before, this kind of sensation - those who truly indulged in flesh and the gluttony of cannibalism never got a chance to speak out in advocacy of it. They often never even got trials.


    So now, the normal stimulant-rush of blood ingestion was paired with the euphoria and revelation of feeling her own flesh anew, every inch of herself visualized in her mind, even those visceral tracts that humanity cannot, does not feel. It was hellish in a delightful way - to suddenly know herself to intimately, to be able to pinpoint anywhere she wanted and devote focus to it in a concerted, concentrated way. She sat like this, catatonic in her hyperfocus, for what felt like a mere second - but when she snapped to attention, Esthrielle had her thrown over a prosthetic shoulder, the grand window of Judas''s bedroom smashed open from a kick.


    EJ didn''t even have time to gasp and brace herself before Est leapt out, carrying the ghoulette with her.


    The frigidity of the winter air was unfelt between the two of them - EJ''s body was broiling like a furnace from all the flesh and blood she had gorged herself upon, and Esthrielle''s internals were built to withstand a variety of temperatures and environs. The robes helped, too, but only Est''s was actually that warm. Bare feet hit the snowy ground and the hard-packed dirt beneath with a hiss, integrated shock-absorbers causing built-up steam to release from minute slots in Est''s shins and shoulders into the freezing air.


    Out front, Judas was speaking with a serious-looking man in Tsang corpsec armor plating. They were discussing EJ and Esthrielle, EJ could hear, even though they were at least twenty feet away. Judas''s eyes flashed in recognition as she saw them drop to the ground, her hand raising up to direct the corpsec goon to their presence, but Esthrielle was sprinting even before the motion could complete. She hopped the fence as her manufactured strength was pushed into overdrive, and soon, the pair were fleeing the scene to the sound of gunfire from behind them.


    A distant engine revved, and corpsec soldiers found themselves rushing back to their armored transport, but Est and EJ were already gone. Judas may live in the nice part of town, it was true, but that didn''t mean there weren''t back alleys to duck into and hide. The two women slipped behind an upscale bistro, hiding in the shadows of the building, ducking behind a dumpster. Est finally set EJ down, the pair given a moment to themselves, a moment to breathe and plan instead of simply flee.


    Tsang corpsec was after them. Judas had betrayed them and tried to kill them, or imprison them, despite her promise. Purity probably hated her and thought that she had purposefully abandoned the pinkette and Kell. She wasn''t gonna be going back in to work on Monday, if ever. Probably never. Her apartment, the apartment she had lived in for the last thirty years, was a crisp. She wasn''t safe anywhere, it seemed, except in the decrepit depths of the industrial district.


    EJ felt herself, not for the first time, yearning for the fiery kiss of the furnace; the sweet release of immolation that only a crematorium could bring. She wanted to be sedated, to be laid out on a metal sheet, to be thrown into a fire she''d never feel. She had heard that some high-scale crematories even offered additional end-of-unlife care, like drugs, or prostitutes, or last meals made-to-order. After all, what good did all that money do you once you are truly dead? May as well spend it having fun if you''re gonna be dust anyways.


    Suicidal ideations were momentarily swept aside as Esthrielle pulled the blonde to herself, another powerful embrace accompanied by whispered words of camaraderie. The heat of Est''s breath against EJ''s ear as she spoke sent a tingle up the ghoulette''s spine, and she couldn''t help but lean into the embrace as wholly as she could.


    "EJ... God, shit''s fucked, eh? Hahaha... We''ve gotta get back to Purity. And that other girl, whatshername. Kell? Kell. I''m... I''m sorry about everything that happened. I''m sorry that I couldn''t protect you. That was my whole job, you know? My whole reason for coming with you. Protecting you. Instead, well... I couldn''t do anything at all, just let it happen. I-I''m sorry." The words had barely left Est''s mouth by time EJ''s lips were upon her own, a kiss borne as much from care as it was from desire to shut her up and stop that line of thinking.


    Est accepted it with a whine of surprise, but nothing approximating protest. The kiss lingered, but when it broke, EJ''s expression was firm - determined, even. Far from the scared little girl she had been in the manse, Est''s self-deprecation and shouldering of the blame having re-lit the fire of indignance within Esper James''s chest with a renewed vigor.


    "Shut up. As kindly as possible, shut the fuck up, Est. You didn''t do anything wrong. You didn''t do anything that you could''ve done better. Judas had the both of us by the fucking throat, and there wasn''t... It wasn''t up to you to save us or protect us from her. If anything, i-it was mine. And I failed you. But... But I don''t want you to ever think like this again, ok?" Her brow had furrowed down intensely, and she was scowling up at the other woman with all the force and seriousness of a drill sergeant reprimanding a soldier.


    Now was Est''s turn to cry. Everything had been horrible - even if normally she would have actually liked to make love with the little blonde, the circumstances only raked up old trauma she thought she had repressed deeply enough to never be worried by it again. Even after all her augmentations, all her training, all her gifts, she had still been rendered helpless to a new cycle of abuse at the hands of a woman whose cruelty had only been matched by the jailors of Italia. She wished, for a moment, that she could call Luca. She wished that Luca could come get her, hold her, keep her and the blonde safe. She knew he could do it.


    Luca could tear this whole fucking city down if he put his mind to it. Why had they sent her instead of him? She lamented his absence to the sound of tears, nodding meekly to EJ''s words, her mind latching onto a desperate plea for her own protector to save her, just like he had before. She would vouch for EJ. She would ensure she could find peace back in Venezia... Something close to it, at least. Neither of them deserved this pain.


    EJ''s expression softened as she saw Esthrielle''s tears, and she strengthened her embrace, giving the Wayward a firm squeeze. The both of them needed it, after all. In the distance, outside the alleyway, an armored corpsec transport sped down the road - but behind the dumpster, they were hidden from the street, and so they were safe. For the rest of tonight, they had nothing to fear - nothing foreseeable, at least. Nothing to drive them but going back home.


    They''d do that in a moment, once they were good and ready - for now, they needed one another a few minutes more...

 Act Three (Ch. 40) - In Every Dream Home A Heartache; or... or what?

    Esthrielle sighed into Esper James''s now-messed mop of silken locks, the cornsilk colour fading to a desaturated pale amidst the moonlight and evening''s shadowed embrace. They were quite the pair to look at, weren''t they? A little ghoul so pale as to be a printer-paper effigy of a person, just as frail and as apt to leave papercuts, every feature as permanent and unchanging as an inked sketch. And then Esthrielle, organic and yet not, brought closer to Heaven by the scalpel of a surgeon and formed into a hateful angel, her body toned and lean yet with little true, blood-rich muscle to speak of. So very different... and yet, despite outward opposition, they were simply too similar on the inside.


    EJ pulled Est closer, bodies flush and in such forced proximity that EJ, if she truly focused, could feel the faint pulse of Esthrielle''s heartbeat in her own blood-hazed state. The feline feast was wearing off, but she was glad, in some unspoken way, that it had at least given her enough of a rush that she could relish the power and sensation it had brought, here in a quiet and calm place. It would have felt a waste to give in to her hunger only to be driven away and never get to luxuriate in those moments of delight that touch brought. She still scolded herself for such thoughts, though - this was far from a calm time, and delighting in decadence bought with blood could and should wait.


    Esper James''s mind''s eye drifted towards her temporary home, back with Kell and Purity. They had to return as quickly as they could. Momentarily, she thought to check her pockets for her phone - and then further berated herself for even thinking to do so. It was back at Judas''s manse, and frankly, it was probably for the best. She''d watched enough cop shows to know that they could triangulate calls and other mechanical magecraft as such, and if Judas called her? She wasn''t sure she''d be strong enough to ignore or deny it.


    That burnt her in the way acid burns flesh, eating away at it with vile, acrid chemicals and rendering it naught but particles and foam. Even after everything, even after the events of this and last evening, she knew she couldn''t deny her abuser. For the first time, however, she felt herself acknowledging it actively - no longer a passive background thought, it was one that took precedence over any safety in Judas''s regularity and predictability.


    Judas was her abuser. She had been abusing Esper James all these years, physically and emotionally, mostly, and frankly? Their date? The date she had regarded so fondly, a night when she had finally felt wanted and accepted and even preferred by the vampiress? One where she had felt special to Judas, as if Judas actually liked her? It made bile reach viscous, stinging fingers up her throat from her garbage disposal stomach. She grit her teeth and fought back the urge to spit in disdain at the mere thought of Judas, at all she had done.


    Not for the first time, she was glad that Purity had been her first. If they had met any later, Judas would have been the one to imprint herself so fiercely upon EJ, and then the blonde would never have escaped the power-hungry sanguinophile''s clutches. She would have been forever condemned to whatever the blood-sucker would have wanted, and she would have forced herself to love it just to cope. Just to rationalize it to herself.


    Even as Est''s hot tears fell down upon EJ''s skin, Esper James, too, found herself crying now - her own tears not so hot, not so borne from sorrow, but instead from bitter remorse and strangled fury trying to choke past the newly-built walls in her heart. She had never... She had never felt this way, she didn''t think. Self-loathing wasn''t unusual, but the addition of abhorrence for someone she had begrudgingly accepted as a fixture in her life shook her feelings into an unfamiliar, unidentified slurry.


    She gave Esthrielle another squeeze, pushing a gentle ''gack!'' sound from the other woman, before posturing to let Est know she wanted to end their embrace. As Esthrielle pulled away, EJ looked up to her crimson eyes, the LEDs flickering with emotion, and spoke in a tone that hopefully came across as caring and not overly stern. "Est? We''ve gotta get home. Come on. You... You know the way, right? You know how to get us back. I''ll follow you, hold your hand... And then we''ll rest when we get back. Please?"


    It was the ''please'' that drove the dagger into Esthrielle''s heart, the railroad stake pounded in, nailing down her sorrow and grief to be brought up later. It was something that they could lament once they were out of the frying pan, and hopefully, they''d avoid the fire. Est nodded, steeling herself, gathering up her emotional clutter like dirty laundry and pushing it into the hamper of her heart. She''d do the wash when they got home, wherever and whatever home was. For now, they had to stay alive.


    The two began to move after a brief stop to ensure their robes were tied. Barefoot on the slush-riddled sidewalks of Vitus, in the cold and the dark and the wet, it was both a blessing and a curse that the city itself was nocturnal. People certainly looked, and some stared, but in the pursuit of escapist pleasures in the city of the dead, such acts toeing the line of outright exhibitionism were just barely common enough that no one gave too much of a thought to it. To them, the women were just girlfriends engaging in a bit of risque fun, or perhaps escorts returning home from a client''s address. Nothing harmful enough to make a fuss over.


    In many ways, these two trails of thought were closer and further from the truth than any bystanders could ever have known. Yet, as they stumbled past waves of flesh both living and dead, hands held in a union of synthetic heat and organic chill, the eyes of the world felt dead and glazed to the truth of their own existence. No one could guess what they had been put through, and it was doubtful if anyone would even believe them if they confessed it all.


    Fuck ''em, then. Fuck this whole city. Fuck everyone and everything who lived herein, EJ thought to herself as they pushed past a bulky mortal who was recording the pair with his phone, a dopey grin on his face. EJ bared her teeth at him, some of her distaste bubbling up in the form of outright aggression, but this only made him giggle with delight. Surely she wouldn''t actually bite him, he must have thought; surely, the little slut was only playing it up for the camera.


    Such were the reactions of more and more passers-by as the pair left the nicer part of town and drifted into the dregs and ghettos of Vitus, trying to avoid as many cameras and Tsang patrols as possible. None passed them at all, none that they could see, and after almost an hour of walking in the snow and ice and slush and cold, rough concrete, the pair began to let themselves calm. Their muscles relaxed, the rage in EJ''s heart dulled to a flickering ember at best, and they let their hands clasp one another with less insistent desperation.


    They turned a corner - and Esper James found herself running face-first into a black-clad operator in red-striped combat attire. He stumbled back a little, his face concealed and his head obscured by a helmet, but from his hesitation it took him a moment to look the pair over before he reacted. EJ, in turn, fell to the ground from the force of the impact. The security agent visibly tensed and drew his sidearm, a powerful-looking handgun of black polymer, the red dot alighting upon EJ''s face as he raised his weapon.


    The two women raised their hands in surrender, Est''s face falling at how fucked they were, EJ''s eyes remaining frantic and alert. The man stepped back a single pace, firearm now aimed squarely between Esper James''s eyes. "Esper James Price-Wynnfield? An APB was issued for you and your little friend here. You have the right to remain silent. Hands behind your back." Est went to comply, though slowly - EJ, however, felt that earlier rage ripple up from some hidden place below her heart''s floorboards. She wasn''t going to let this stupid fucker just take them both in. What would happen to the pair of them?


    Est would be lucky to have her limbs removed for study and her organic bits slain to be revived for indefinite imprisonment or worse. EJ? They''d cremate her most likely, or give her the same treatment as Est - cauterize her wounds where her limbs were removed and throw her in a cell forever. Maybe chain her to her desk at Tsang HQ, for Judas''s benefit. In truth, these weren''t very likely outcomes, but EJ''s mind whipped itself up into a whirlwind of imagined cruelties and fates too horrific for words. Her life had been thrown into such disarray recently that anything resembling basic human decency was unimaginable - Vitus was sadistic, never fair.


    The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    "Ma''am. Hand behind your back. I won''t say it again." He flicked the safety off on his pistol, re-readying his stance. Esthrielle nodded to EJ, the pain in her heart leading to a resignation too heavy to lift, a sorrow too imposing to budge. She couldn''t will herself to escape her fate. EJ''s mind was racing, though - she wasn''t so much resigned as she was frantic, feeling some of that feral energy from the manse return, her blood-haze having ended but now some of the old strength returning anew. She pushed herself forwards onto all fours as if making to stand up, before pointing behind the officer, eyes snapping wide and mouth splitting to scream a command to no one in particular.


    "Now! Get him! Kill th-this fucking pig!" She hoped it was convincing. Her trembling voice and tensed muscles made it just convincing enough to cause the officer to turn, the idea that he may be alone against a pack of dissidents forcing him to make a snap decision. Too bad for him, though, he chose wrong. As he turned, EJ burst forth like a bullet propelled from a rifle, tackling him at the knees and sending the pair of them to the ground. Esthrielle gasped, holding back a scream of her own as the events began to unfold.


    Teeth more like fangs. Nails turned to claws. The desperation to survive outweighing anything the officer could muster. It was good, in its own way - the blood, fresh and hot from mortal veins, warmed her chilled exterior as it sprayed. The sidewalk was painted in a lustrous ruby shade as his carotid was pierced, and it took only seconds for his hand to release the firearm to clatter to the sidewalk. For the second time this evening, Esper James''s mouth was filled with the flesh of another, the blood of another, the bone of living kin. It was just as good as every time previous.


    She couldn''t prevent herself from swallowing what she bit, chewing what she took, drinking what sprayed forth. It wasn''t as uncontrolled as it had been with Purity, that first time she had slipped... It wasn''t as much of an all-consuming euphoria that stripped away all agency as it was a steady, nearly-overwhelming overflow of ecstasy. The contraction of her musculature was orgasmic as she glutted herself, the man''s adrenaline filling her own deadened veins as she gulped down every drop of red her maw could retain. It took a shocked Esthrielle grabbing her hard by the shoulders to yank her off of his corpse.


    "EJ?! We''ll talk about this l-later. Let''s... Get the fuck out of here." From the shiver in her voice, her quivering tone belied a renewed sense of fear towards the ghoul, seeing her consume the meat of another human raw and with such gusto. Cannibalism was taboo to all, of course, but for the Easterner who had been raised to see all undead as blood-feasting gluttons who rejected the natural order? Seeing a girl who she had come to care about take chunks so freely and so eagerly from the still-warm corpse of a man who would likely remember every dying moment when he awoke in the morgue? It sat poorly with the Wayward.


    EJ made a sloppy attempt to wipe her mouth with one arm, her opposite hand reaching out to grab at the discarded firearm. It was snatched without a second thought, the action more instinctual than deliberate - guns meant safety, at least to a degree, and it was better for them to have any kind of gun just in case. She doubted she''d be able to pull this all off again, and frankly, Est might just leave her out to dry or worse if she slipped even one more time. Esthrielle didn''t say anything about the gun, thankfully, and instead just helped usher the ghoulette along the sidewalk ever further.


    The adrenaline of the blood heightened her high even further this time, and helped it linger in her, clinging to her veins like an oily meal clings to the tongue. She briefly thought upon herself, upon her actions and how they made her feel, her mind having nothing else to focus on as they walked. She didn''t feel the guilt now that she had when she had killed that officer back in her housing complex. Why not? Why was this time different? What had changed? The only answer that came was the copper aftertaste that lingered on her saliva, and the warmth of a full gut.


    Of course. Like a junkie, getting her fix blurred any moral qualms that came in the process of it. There was a reason that FixAte was unofficially government mandated, and she knew she should be disgusted with herself for what she had done, though she couldn''t feel the emotions forming in her core. The closest thing to regret she felt was that she was getting more blood all over Esthrielle from contact alone. Their stolen robes were probably ruined, but knowing their original owner, they were probably proofed against bloodstains.


    Eventually they arrived back in the industrial district, the still of the moonlit night and the serenity of evening air somewhat sullied by the perpetual smog which marred Vitus''s sky - even worse now, in the throes of nocturnal activity. That was to say, it was exceedingly dark - Esper James could see just as well as always, her second-living cornea adapted to near utter darkness, and Esthrielle''s own ocular implants were fitted with low-light vision, the same as she had used at the manse. The darkness was less of an obstruction, and more of a comforting blanket which blotted out the pain of the city itself.


    The gravel and debris of the abandoned sections of the industrial district stung and sliced upon EJ''s soles, Esthrielle''s synthskin more resistant than the ghoul''s natural flesh, but the pain was forgotten as the old factory they called home came into view. The pair made what rush they could, that being a slight hustle, in their hurry to get back inside. They got within fifteen feet of the door, give or take, before it was thrown open.


    There stood a figure in time-worn clothes that came from a thrift store''s discount section, a pair of red and black plaid sweatpants with a t-shirt depicting a cat attracting various metal objects with the words ''PUSSY MAGNET'' emblazoned above and below the fictitious feline. Her hair was bubblegum pink, her physique was buxom, and her eyes were reddened and puffy from countless tears shed in isolation. Purity Aloise Francharde. As soon as EJ saw her, she was torn - torn between rushing forth to her lover, and continuing at a pace that Est seemed comfortable at. Thankfully she didn''t need to choose.


    Purity stomped forwards, feet clad in pink fuzzy house-slippers, and Est in turn began to drag a surprised but enthusiastic EJ onwards to meet up more quickly with the familiar face. Purity was comfort - she was safety. Purity was one of the few people in the city left that both women felt they could trust, and surely she would be happy to see them home safe and sound, especially after their unexpected, unplanned absence.


    EJ smiled up at her girlfriend moments before a full-force slap was delivered to her cheek, leaving a stinging hand-print that quickly began to bruise. Purity collapsed to follow EJ as the meat-eater fell to the ground, Est''s initial instinct to try and stop Purity from whatever assault she was planning being defused as the pinkette took Esper James in her arms and swaddled her up in warm, desperate flesh. Purity''s entire body shook with every fresh sob, but it was good. EJ was home. Est was home, too, and Purity was glad for that, but it wasn''t quite the same. Not yet.


    "Esper J-J-James...! Where the f-fuck were you two!? It''s been an entire day and th-then some! I thought you died!" The pinkette leaned down even further into her lover, the pair of them pressed tightly, as if Purity was trying to squeeze all of their shared pain and grief from the both of them like fruit set to be juiced. EJ held her tongue, though she desperately wished she could find the strength to retort by saying something about wishing that she had died. It was too bitter, too catty... and here in Purity''s arms, home again, with Esthrielle by her side? With the three of them safe and sound, for this very moment at least?


    She could have died right here and now, and at least then, she would have died happily.

 Act Three (Ch. 41) - Comforts of Home; or, Dearest Agony

    Once they were inside, hot drinks were served up. Kell sat at the main table in their makeshift mess hall, the same dingy, grimy break room that they had converted into a living space. She perked up as the trio entered, Esper James held tightly by the pinkette''s arms as they walked side-by-side, her hand opposite the club darling held in a similarly steely grip by Esthrielle. Kell said nothing as she saw them - her mouth opened in a grinning void to speak, but seeing how somber the three of them were, she thought better of it. Things seemed too tenuous for a snarky comment welcoming them home.


    Instead, she pushed herself to her feet and walked over to the hot plate plugged in on the breakroom counter, going to brew up a pot of something reddish-brown and cloudy: the crassly-named Bludd Mudd. It was a mixture of dried, powdered pigs'' blood mixed with cocoa powder and synthetic stimulants. Coffee had a diminished effect on the second-living, their adenosine receptors barely working as it was, so some muddled, lab-produced cathinones did the trick. It was quite the wake up, and the blood in it prevented too feral a reaction, but it was still just as addictive as the caffeine and drugs it was meant to replace.


    While Kell put the pot on, the three broken women wandered over to the lone, must-rich couch that the breakroom held. It was far from the best place for the trio to have their proper reunion, but as they sat - Purity first, pulling EJ onto her lap possessively, but making a show of not being so possessive that Esthrielle couldn''t hold her too - it was everything they needed. A cushy, comfortable place to rest and relax, even if it did smell like a dead person''s attic and had gone years without a proper cleaning.


    Purity buried her face into Esper James''s neck as the trio sat, giving her an additional squeeze strong enough to push some breath from EJ''s lungs. EJ did anything but pull away; her free hand went up to caress her lover''s cheek, holding her in return, a soft whine escaping her as the weight of the night fell upon her fully. She was covered in blood, wearing a sheer nightgown, body a roiling inferno from the blood of humankind. She had killed someone, again. For the second time in a week''s time. This one they''d be able to fix, for sure, but... It was still a grim reality.


    She felt no better about the murder if it condemned a new party, free of undeath''s cruel grip and savage proclivities, to an eternity of torture. A hell worse than could be described in words alone. A forever-life of feasting on meat, guzzling the blood of the living, gargling pills every night and sleeping like a corpse in the morning. The spectre of one''s own inner, feral nature always loomed over those who had their true deaths denied.


    Tsang was, of course, the reason for all this. For every moment of heartbreak. For every sliver of pain so cruelly, maliciously hammered into one''s flesh. Everything, in her mind, led back to Tsang in some way. Burn a meal? A Tsang subsidiary made your oven, and had fucked it up. Break your leg? The supplements Tsang peddled you left you void of the necessary calcium, making your bones weak. Pet died? Tsang supplied the majority of the pet food in Vitus, and surely it was tainted.


    Etcetera, etcetera.


    It was tiring in its own way. She had worked for Tsang for thirty fucking years. She had contributed, in whatever small way, to the oppression of the people of Vitus, and the tyranny that led to their massed suffering. Sure, she had only been a secretary... Just setting up appointments, forwarding documents, making phone calls, penciling in visitors, but even then. What if she had left? What if she had just quit?


    A breath against her neck, warm and full of true, genuine life from Purity told her what would have remained for her in that case. She did her work willingly, and she was allowed her own little sanctuary, a slice of life carved from cement and sorrow in the Kehler Complex. If she had denied Tsang? Judas would have chained her to her desk at best, feeding her scraps like a dog and beating her when she spoke up. She would have been in the same neo-slavery that Purity had been indentured to.


    More out of impulse than thought, she pulled on Est''s hand - tugging the Wayward closer, pulling the triplet of them together. Esthrielle''s eyes briefly flared in surprise, but she wasn''t averse to the offered closeness - and as she fell over from where she sat to lean against Purity and rest her head upon EJ, she was caught off-guard yet again as Purity removed an arm from her little ghoulette lap-companion and slung it around Est. There they sat, silent save for breathing, in some grim approximation of a cuddle.


    The nearness to one another was ambrosial, however awkward it may have felt or seemed. Est found herself sinking into the embrace as moments went by, and Purity''s initially firm, terse arm about Esthrielle became soft and comforting as the seconds passed. They three were in need, desperate need, of one another but also of peace. And in one anothers'' arms, peace is exactly what they found, if only for the night. No words needed to be said, nor would they have helped in any sense. All semblance of communication was provided by flesh-to-flesh vocalization, Est''s synthetic flesh on her arms feeling, for a brief while, as organic as the rest of her beneath the blood.


    After some time, Kell walked over with small Styrofoam cups - each steaming-hot, filled a safe distance from the brim with a fluid the colour of rich pelagic clay. It smelled in equal parts sanguine and succulent, chocolatey and carnivorous. EJ would have drooled, had she not already supped on another this evening; Purity and Est, both still living, were more hesitant to take their respective cups in hand.


    "It''s pigsblood, Est. Don''t worry. No human in this; we won''t make a cannibal of you yet, eheh..." Kell smirked as she made the remark, but with the way it trailed off into nothingness, it was more than obvious that it had been little more than an attempt to break the silence. Her heart wasn''t in her words, and she was blameless for it - the silence that hung in the air was a Herculean task to even broach, much less disrupt.


    Est nodded, flashing Kell a smile that looked as half-faked as it felt to make. The other two women at her side each took their own cup in hand, Purity drawing herself back from EJ to ensure no spills occurred. They all stared at Kell, waiting expectantly, three little lambs waiting for the guidance of a trusted shepherd. Kell would have to do.


    "Alright, ladies... Cheers, yeah? A toast to, uhh... To... To this." Kell gestured around at the interior of the breakroom, having been mildly repurposed from a corporate-sponsored escape to a living space for four. It wasn''t much. Purity screwed up her face into a jokingly-disapproving expression, raising a pink brow at the terrorist. "To this? Was that a toast? The hell does that even mean?" She went to raise her white foamy cup, careful not to jostle her lap-warmer, before continuing on with a hint of laughter in her voice.


    "You raise a glass to your family, your friends, the hot bitch you snagged at the club... But, ''to this''? It doesn''t say a damn thing!" She rolled her eyes in a performative gesture, Est and EJ feeling the beginnings of their own grins form. When Purity mentioned the ''hot bitch'', she gave EJ a squeeze, light enough to not disturb her, but strong enough that EJ couldn''t help but notice. "Augh, fine. To this." She gave her cup a little flourish, and the other women followed suit - Est and EJ echoing the toast, the four of them clinking their cups as best the material would allow before each had a strong gulp of the substance.


    The effect on the two true-living of the four was nearly immediate. Where the exhaustion of the night had previously weighed heavily upon them, Est found a new strength in her core that stretched each tendril through her body like the roots of a great tree, individual veins flowing with the enhanced lifeblood of another. Purity, too, was affected: her solemnity and morose fugue were pierced by the cathinones in an instant, begging her to drink more, pleading with her to snuggle closer to the other women at her side. Stimulants required touch, and while touch was offered, it was never quite enough.


    They each drained their respective cups in naught but a few additional pulls, the mortals now wired, the undead simply buzzed. The drink was, in ways beside the proffered energy, exactly what EJ needed. It was warm, it was comforting... And the flavor was, in some ways, far and above superior to that of human flesh. Chocolate came through in heavy, potent waves, seeing to drown one''s tongue in decadence... and beneath the waterline of that luxurious ocean, the sharpened, jagged rocks of red delight protruded from a nearly imperceptible chemical baseline. Chocolatey, heavy, sweet, with a sanguine aftertaste that tingled the tastebuds and scratched at the brain.


    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    Stimulants were ubiquitous in Vitus. What else got you through the day? It wasn''t the protein-rich diet, though there was something to be said for that - at least muscular atrophy wasn''t common from the sedentary lifestyles most lived. But stimulants were easy to acquire, legal and illicit, with rumours that Tsang themselves were funneling less-than-legal narcotics into Vitus''s cultural spheres simply to ensure workers were awake and alert at their jobs. But for Purity, constantly drunk at nightclubs to attract her marks, and Est, unused to the Vitus lifestyle?


    They hit hard. Not so hard as to be detrimental, but to say they were more than awake was an understatement. Once the cups were filled once more, drained once more, and taken away to be trashed, the trio on the couch cuddled and nuzzled with more vigor than before. Energy which had been sapped in their flight was renewed, and was renewed in a serious way - the previously funereal atmosphere of the breakroom had been replaced by the belated joy of reunion with one''s lover, which Esthrielle was graciously invited to partake in as a guest.


    It took some time, but amidst all of their cuddling, the three women eventually found themselves sprawled out atop and beneath one another upon the couch. Nothing too amorous - the three of them had had enough of such activities for a lifetime, it sometimes felt - but the intermingling of bodies and the entwining of limbs left each of the three far too entangled to possibly pry themselves free. That wasn''t an issue, though; between the soft breaths, the gentle whines of comfort, and the distant sounds of Kell watching anime on her phone, it wasn''t too long before the stimulants started to wane and with this absence came the crash.


    Delayed exhaustion gave rise to present, pressing exhaustion, to be dealt with immediately and judiciously. The sun, far and above, had started to peek over the horizon line as much as it could be allowed through Vitus''s perpetual miasma. It was time, finally, for bed. And when the three women were too caught up in one another to hope to get up and return to their respective sleeping bags, Kell - a devious smirk gracing her otherwise elegant visage - laid an unzipped bag over them to be a makeshift blanket. And thus, there in the derelict ruins of the factory, in a decaying breakroom made home for fugitives, the quartet of them fell into a restful, well-deserved sleep.


    In a way, it seemed, God had returned to his heaven. And again, all was right with the world.


    The subsequent days were uneventful. Esper James was gnawed at by hunger, slowly but surely, but found new strength in its suppression - with more experience in the act than most second-living were allowed, and in its satiation, she found it as a looming devil on her shoulder that grew by the day but not so much an immediate, needful thing as before. Regular infusions of living blood from Purity, and sometimes even Est, assisted in the flesh-hunger''s delay.


    The first time EJ drank from Esthrielle was a new experience for the both of them. From Purity, it was most often her arm which was offered - something forgivable to damage, something freely given to abuse and steal from for necessity''s sake. But, living in such conditions meant that chores were delegated, and while EJ was exempt from any ventures into the more populous parts of Vitus for any reason, Purity was not so blessed. That Sunday night, it was Purity''s turn to go buy food and drinks, and so she left, armed with Kell''s credit card and a mission to acquire sustenance. Kell, in turn, needed to attend a meeting with her own people - Eddy and their co-conspirators in this sector of Vitus - and so she, too, left.


    And then there were two.


    EJ''s hunger had grown strong and deep, not yet to the point of needing any true quelling, but she couldn''t help herself from licking at her fangs whenever she caught scent of Esthrielle''s organic anatomy. The natural scents of sweat, body oil, breath, and deep beneath the skin, her blood... They chipped at Esper James''s defenses slowly but surely, until finally, a solution needed to be met. Est was playing a game on her own phone, barely paying attention to her surroundings, when Esper James sidled up beside her. A tap on the shoulder from the blonde made the Easterner look up.


    "Hm? EJ, what''s up? You look, uh... Needy, I guess. Puri ain''t here right now. You''re gonna have to wait for her to get back, I''m not hiding any snacks or anything..." Est gave EJ a wry smile, looking up at the doe-eyed and desperate-looking ghoulette. EJ, in turn, fidgeted with her hands and bit her lower lip, now unable to look at the other woman. The pressing question in her throat knocked like an insistent guest, though even then, it took her some seconds of awkward silence to pose the burning question.


    "Hey, uhh... Puri... She''s gonna be gone for a while, right? A-And, uh... Well... I need something. Now''s around when she''d usually let me have a little of her blood... So... I-I, uhm... I was just thinking..." EJ rocked back and forth on her heels, side to side, staring a hole into the floor. How had she gotten so casual with Est? How had she become so casual about her own cannibalistic tendencies? Perhaps actually engaging in it willingly had worn down her defenses and the taboo it had been encased in, that razor-wire cocoon stripped away to simply being a form of intimacy, rather than outright forbidden.


    Est sat up straighter in her chair, taking her right foot off of the table where it rested, now instead used to keep herself upright in her seat. Her smug, wry expression was replaced with one of deserved apprehension. EJ was, at her core, a predator. Not in the social sense, but in the true root of the word: she predated upon others to survive. Without a way to get FixAte, since true-living couldn''t buy it without a permit, she was left to slowly but surely struggle against an impulse for flesh that would, unbound, see her kill and eat without restraint.


    Est felt vindicated in her initial resistance to the idea. "You thought what? That just because I''m made of living meat, you can leech off of me like you do Purity? Look, dude, that''s... I mean..." She cut herself off; she realized how she sounded, how harsh she was being to a woman she shared a bond with that transcended words. EJ had saved her life, hadn''t she? Twice now, at least... And... And she was good. She was kind. For a cannibal, she was more palatable than most. And she would never have asked if she wasn''t desperate, or so Esthrielle told herself.


    So, with a deep sigh, Esthrielle stood up and began to walk towards the couch, beckoning for the meat-eater to follow her. Once she got to what was barely more comfortable than a bench with cushions, she made a show of laying down upon it, gesturing for EJ to get down beside her. She didn''t have organic arms like Purity did, or even organic legs, and so her options for helping the blonde feed were few and far between. As she watched a wide-eyed Esper James kneel obediently, Est sighed again, a more performative gesture than her first, and took her tank top in hand. The HATEFUCK logo was rolled away to reveal what, to EJ, seemed an irresistible tract of caramel-coloured flesh, unblemished and warm with the comfort of true life.


    The tank top was drawn up to just below Est''s breasts, her ribs and midriff on display. She hadn''t the hands free to gesture at herself like a server presenting a meal, but she was thinking it - the Wayward choked back any snark about ''your dinner, madam'', though it wasn''t easy. EJ hesitated - surely Esthrielle didn''t want her to just sink her fangs in, did she? But as the seconds whiled away, eventually, that''s exactly what came to pass. The kneeling EJ put one hand on Est''s thigh and the other on her collarbone, steadying herself as she leaned in, mouth wide...


    And as she sunk her fangs in, just enough to draw blood initially, she let go just a bit and plunged them in to the root. Est gasped in a hazy mix of sensations at the sudden pain in her midsection, but when the blood came, and the hungry ghoul began to drink and lose herself to the blood, Est let go of her tank top and put a hand on the back of EJ''s head to hold her close. A bitter sense of affection sprouted in the Wayward''s heart as she watched EJ''s throat move with every swallow, and when it was said and done and EJ had begun to pull away, the affection that had blossomed anew wasn''t nearly sated.


    It had been nice, in a way. And while it was only the first time, it certainly wouldn''t be the last. She was really starting to notice what Purity saw in the blonde.

 Act Three (Ch. 42) - A Substantial Interlude: Cruel, Carnivorous, Devilish, Delicious

    Judas was pissed all weekend. Not just pissed, she was - for the first time in decades - beating herself up about her own decisions. Her own failures. Her own objective mistakes, far removed from the mistakes of subordinates, from the failings of her underlings, from the weakness of those around her. Her mind kept going back to that night in the manse, to the videos on her phone that now weighed upon her like a lead block. The remembrance of her quarry''s drunken motions and the unexpected transition into a hungry beast made the vampire''s cold heart burn hot like a ball of silver in her chest.


    She had been stupid. There was no avoiding it. She had been so drunken with power, so intoxicated by her own greed, her own lust, her own desire to exert and extend control that she had pushed Esper James far past her breaking point. Ghouls were unusual, and while they were nearly vampires in many ways, they exhibited certain behaviors that needed to be accounted for. While the hungriest of the three mainline groups of second-living (Ghasts aside, those being closer to a genetic failure than a medical one), they were also the most naturally volatile. That brought her to a serious contemplation of strategy.


    Zombies were basic. Straightforward. Slow metabolism, slowed reaction times, slower mental processes, but durable and easily able to withstand everything they were given. They took the longest to cremate, their bodies continued to function for a notable period of time after being exorcised (the working name for a silver-bladed vivisection, meant to help study the actual anatomy of the product), and they could last the longest without going feral. They were the ideal worker: ambition was culled, physical and mental processes were slowed to negotiable rates, and they were the most durable in industrial accidents. OSHA didn''t exist in Vitus.


    And then, vampires. Smarter. Faster. Stronger. Insatiable for blood, their own physiology neglecting the process of blood-blackening that stripped one''s vital fluid of all nutrients except the required oxygen so that other processes could disseminate those things. They recycled the blood that they consumed, rendering the old blood down into a base form that was then repurposed by a remolded appendix to form into the vampiric pheromones so ubiquitous to the blood-suckers. They were the creme de la creme of the intellectual world, neurons firing in such a way as to rival some of the best computational devices of the East, if trained.


    And then? Ghouls. Ghouls were an unfamiliar familiarity in Vitus - people knew they existed, but actually meeting one was a rare chance. Where vampires were the perfection of the mental and interpersonal, the truth was that ghouls had the potential to run things in a more physical society. Might made right in some scenarios, and those were ones where ghouls ruled: hunger drove their body to a perpetual state of heightened consumption to gather the requisite nutrients for the furnace in their gut, zero repurposing of byproducts, all of it liquified down into a usable state by stomach acid that could make the alkahest of old green with envy.


    They were the most prone towards going feral, they needed their suppressive pills the most regularly, and they were the most energetic. They were also the most susceptible to the pheromone impulses of vampires, which was one of the many reasons Judas had wanted one as her secretary in the first place. Easier to control, easier to manipulate in a day-to-day scenario... easier to bend to one''s own will, and train into the desired result. Esper James had been the first ghoul she had managed to snag as a secretary, and it had been excellent.


    Everything had been exactly to expectations or surpassing it. A subservient little bitch with all semblance of self-interest culled to a bare minimum, and every mote of independence and ambition wasted to withered nubs - she had been the ideal subordinate, easy to direct, easy to control. A ghoul''s resilience and energy exploited in the form of an office worker who never took smoke breaks, never took longer than was necessary to perform her tasks... For fear of beatings, perhaps. It only took a year into their shared employment for Judas to strike her for the first time, a dizzying backhand that left EJ''s head spinning.


    HR hadn''t given a damn, of course. What were they gonna say? That Judas was in the right, and that Esper James should''ve just been a little fucking better at her job? That little ghoul bitches didn''t get to speak back to their mistresses? Either way, the answer was the same. Judas got what she wanted, and EJ learned her god damn place. Bending whelps like her was what Judas excelled at - after all, it was her entire job description, pretty much.


    Or, at least, so Judas had thought. So it had always felt. So why did EJ get away from her? Why did this otherwise perfectly subservient, perfectly obedient little bitch slip through her fingers, kill her cat, and disappear somewhere into the city''s disgusting, worm-ridden underbelly? How did she, even? The readings had all indicated EJ was nice and ready to get dragged in, to get locked down and brought in for further usage. Bagged and tagged, as it were.


    Over the past few days since EJ and that Wayward whore got away from her, Judas had been wringing her brain dry over the whole ordeal. It had been her that slipped up; it had to have been. There was no way those two would have gotten away if she had just played it right, if she had just held herself back and let them be, at least for a bit. At least long enough for her security detail to roll in and get eyes on them, get them loaded up into a van to get taken back to Tsang HQ.


    Get them locked up in their respective cells, like the classic, stereotypical birds in gilded cages.


    She was fond of that metaphor - it was appropriate to more than just they. Vitus as a whole was a cage-once-gilded, now horribly grime-lined and choked by a constant layer of smog. There had been beauty in it, at least in the idea of it - she was old enough to remember it like it had been, back before the demands of industry had truly settled on their little patch of grave dirt.


    The idea had been... Had been a city that never slept, because it never died. A utopia. People could live forever, constantly able to be surrounded by their loved ones, by their favorite places and favorite things, never touched by the ravages of time. Freed of their desire for eternal life, that intrinsic fear of finality, because it was reversible. That had been the idea, at least, or at least it had been when Judas thought back on it. When Tsang first came to her, pitched the idea of it all to her, it had sounded too good to be true, but seeing the results firsthand had convinced her.


    She sat up in her bed and swung her feet out from beneath the plush comforter, the duvet barely wrinkling as she exited. Such were the perks of luxury - a bed of such specially-designed synthetic materials that it rarely wrinkled. She took a moment to breathe in deep, to gather herself, to steel herself as she had done a thousand times before. Oh, God, it still smelled like them - like her. Fuck.


    No. Nope. Not a chance. She couldn''t let herself get weird about this. She had a problem to solve, and her own fuck-up to fix, in that order and in many ways simultaneously. Esper James wasn''t the only candidate, sure, that was true - but at the same time, she was the best option because Judas knew how to make her squeal, knew what made her tick. And, as they say, knowing is half the battle, isn''t it? But just knowing about her wouldn''t bring her back. Wouldn''t bring her in for what she was needed for.


    Ugh. She hopped up out of bed, walking to her closet and stepping in. It had been deep-cleaned of all of her cat''s blood since Saturday, but now, here, on Monday evening, she swore she could still smell that deep, red scent in the air. It was as deliciously satisfying as it was repulsive to her. Recently, she had found her love of blood waning, even if that was a core part of her physiology. She wished, in a way, that it wasn''t so necessary. She really wished she could eat a normal fucking meal, not the lab-grown meat slurry that got pushed out of almost every butchery across town.


    And yes, she could get a real, genuine steak any and every night of the week she wanted to, but that was work. She was overworked enough as it was. It was no easy feat, running Tsang''s genetic development division, watching expies get born from their cold-wombs just to be tested, fail the trials, and get exorcised on the spot. Exorcism. That was the business word for second-living euthanasia, in the medical sense. Didn''t get rid of the body like crematories, but it got rid of whatever scrap of soul clung to those horrid, misshapen husks.


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    Picking out a suit for the evening, she slipped it on with practiced ease and grace - not that anyone was watching, but if she let herself slip on such a basic ritual, she''d really know she was ruined. All these years clawing her way to the top, crushing friends and foes alike under the heel of her expensive, designer boots, just to fuck herself over so explicitly. And in such a stupid, fat-headed way! Judas''s slim fingers balled into a fist, her arm winding like a spring before releasing her own self-loathing onto a nearby wall. A new hole blossomed from where her knuckles touched town like a blooming flower in the days before wilt.


    Whatever. She''d let a contractor know and it''d be done before she got home this morning. She had the money and the pull for such pleasures as a same-day wall repair, even on the fourth floor of her manse. Or was it fifth? Fuck it. She forgot. Other things to worry about. And so, now donning her evening attire, she headed down the stairs to the main floor.


    As she proceeded to the landing, her aforementioned designer boots clip-clopping against the genuine hardwood stairs with every step, she heard something subtle. A buzzing. Something was vibrating, somewhere in the house. Somewhere on this floor. Judas''s curiosity got the better of her, and she delayed heading out so that she could look for whatever was causing the disturbance. It was near the doorway... whatever it was hadn''t been buzzing over the weekend, that was for sure. And no one had come into her house recently, except the cleaners on Saturday.


    Buzz. Buzz. Something plastic vibrated with a percussive drumbeat in the foyer, and vampiric senses had yet to fail Judas, so it wasn''t much of an issue to track down. Behind a decorative vase Judas had had imported in from China, the vibrating object buzzed and brrr''d in rhythmic repetition without ever truly seeming like it was consistent. Shoddy tech. She took to her knees to kneel down beside the vase, getting on all fours in a position she''d never let another person see so that she might peer behind the exotic decor.


    Aha! She nearly exclaimed aloud. A little plastic-and-metal rectangle, plastered with a flimsy case depicting some kind of bizarre anime girl. Boxing gloves? Rainbow hair? What was she supposed to be, a lesbian fighter who fought for yuri justice near and far? Judas almost found herself laughing at how preposterous the thought was. But then... it clicked. She grinned, though it was wry, and tinged with annoyance at herself.


    EJ''s fucking phone. She had dropped it when she came home drunk with her last week, and in the heat of the escape, some of the meatheads on Judas''s security detail had probably kicked it behind something. Dumb fuckers. But, now she had it... And it was buzzing? Judas reached out and veritably snatched it from where it lay, flipping it over in her hand in an instant so that she might see what all the figurative buzz was about. Ha-ha.


    An alarm. Set extra early, so EJ wouldn''t be late for work on Monday. So she wouldn''t make Judas pissed. The vampire''s smile faltered for but a moment as she considered it. EJ, late little EJ... always doing as she was told. Always trying her hardest to impress her vampiric boss, trying to keep herself out of danger but also, even after decades of abuse, trying to put a smile on Judas''s face. Trying to be graced with the good fortune of goodwill from her beloved, beloathed superior. Fuck.


    She nearly pitched the phone through a window, but instead settled for just switching the alarm off. Tsang fingerprint-recognition was designed so that, while it was individualized to the owner, it came pre-loaded with any high-ranking Tsang executive''s fingerprints, too... For security reasons, if any journo got too inquisitive about it. Judas unlocked it without a second thought, and began poring through.


    To Hell with work. She had earned a day off, and frankly, this counted as work-from-home anyways. She was doing work, in a sense, tracking down her little escapee so that... So that what? So that the deadline could be avoided? So that she could save her own ass? A bit of both, truth be told. Camera roll showed plenty of lame pictures and internet memes mingled with some genuinely deviant, sometimes obscene pornography, almost entirely of the drawn variety. If she still had a firm grip on the blonde, she would''ve used that to barb at her, tease her till she cried about the abundance of fetish art her phone held.


    "Oh? You''re a latex sort of girl, are you?" Judas said it anyways, entirely for her own benefit, even chuckling wryly just to complete the one-sided interaction with a ghoul no longer there. Pushing herself to a stand, she brushed off her pantlegs before continuing to probe. Reminders to buy more FixAte, notes about bands she likes, some saved links to more pornography and a few different webcomics... And then, Judas struck gold. A tAsT account? Jackpot. She began to rifle through every inch of Esper James''s digital privacy, thinking it far less of an intrusion than the other sorts of privacy she had personally stolen from the girl.


    Purity''s Princesses? And there it was. A tAsT feed dedicated to all of Purity''s little whores, regular gene donors, and... Oh? Judas wasn''t stupid. She could put the pieces together, or so she''d like to think. Seemed like Purity, that catty little fuck-doll, had some kind of connection to get real human meat. She was pimping these women in the server out, in a way, in exchange for a FixAte-free fix. They fuck her, or at the very least give her their fluids, and in return? She keeps them on a new sort of leash - one made of velvet, but still just as restrictive.


    Regardless of material, it would choke you all the same.


    Judas almost admired the thought process behind it. Tsang was working her over for gene samples, and by cycling through a list of regular donors that was long enough to get past any sort of oversight from the low-level techs studying the stuff for repeat sampling, Purity spent a little cash to get human meat from some kind of insider supplier, and in turn kept her cashflow steady and as low-trauma as she could. It was clever, the vampire had to admit.


    But who was her hookup? There was only one answer, Judas knew. The exact same rat bastard with the snakelike grin that had introduced the pair of them in the first place. Alex. That stupid asshole ran a whole IRE site, he could get plenty of human meat if he wanted, and knowing a buyer personally to such a degree that he could be sure she wouldn''t fuck him over? Vitus made a business of business, and these two had apparently been doing quite well in those regards.


    Time for a stop to that. She''d get to Alex first, get her claws in him, then work her way down the line till she had the pinkette and the ghoulette at her disposal all over again. And who knew? Maybe the Wayward would be with them, too. That would be icing on the cake, if she was being honest. Tie up all her loose ends in one single, sweeping movement. Help quash the rising trend of underground cannibalism in Vitus, acquire her blonde haired candidate once and for all, reclaim one of her top-performing field assets and remind her who was in charge... And maybe get a white-haired head to mount on the wall.


    Or, if she was feeling really cruel towards that half-metal dyke who had tried to kill her, maybe she''d just rip her synthetic limbs off and keep her around as a pathetic little plaything. Bloodbags were more fun when they whined and begged when you bit them - and while Est''s whimpers would be from agony, not the usual ecstasy, she had spent long enough reviewing and editing that home video of the Easterner taking it from the ghoul that she was getting used to those sounds...


    But it''d be good to be the reason for it in a more direct sense, this time, wouldn''t it? Earlier, Judas had chuckled but it had been fake, only done for the bit she was playing for herself. Now, feeling laughter bubble up through her chest like scalding water boiling through a geyser, it was as fresh and real as it got. She couldn''t help but cackle to herself, deeply and from her chest, as she considered her future actions.


    All it took was a message to one of the other people on the server, asking for a hookup. She told the stranger that Purity was looking for a ''group activity'', and wanted the unknown element to meet up with them. They agreed quickly and without much fuss - after all, cannibalism was on the line, wasn''t it? And when cannibalism was an option presented to a cannibal, well, it would have been more shocking if she had denied the woman masquerading as EJ.


    Oh, it was all too easy. Fuck. Judas felt renewed already... And soon? She''d be satisfied, too. Whatever it took.

 Act Three (Ch. 43) - Only Human; or, When I Say I Love You

    Purity was awakened to the sound of her phone going off, not a call, but a flurry of notifications over tAsT. Eugh. It had been a few days, that much was true... And surely, her girlies had to be hungry, but... She looked down to EJ beside her, and Esthrielle on the other side, making a gay ghoulette sandwich within a now-decided-to-be-shared sleeping bag. She had been busy, too busy for a few cute gal pals who liked their meat hot and fresh in more ways than one. No, no, it was right of them to want to keep in contact with her... And it would''ve been bad of her to just ignore the notifications, right?


    She pondered it over for a minute or two as pings rolled in, her phone doing that annoying thing where it vibrates again to remind you of a notification it thinks you''ve missed. Thank you, phone, she hadn''t missed those DMs. She had been... Trying not to think about them. Wondering if she could get away with ignoring them for now, nestling back down amidst the shared warmth, throwing an arm around EJ and pulling her close and kissing her cute little forehead. But no, no... It had been her fault that these girls were addicted in the first place. It had been her intent to get them that way, if only to dull her own pain by heightening theirs. Ugh.


    She took her phone in one hand and began to read. Message after message, about five or six in total, all inquiring about some sort of double date? Group activity? Something like that. It was the middle of the morning, and she had been trying desperately to sleep it away so she could be up and offer some comfort to her new housemates. She had been cut out for that sort of work, it seemed: offering comfort to others, especially, preferably women. She wasn''t afraid nor ashamed to say her time in Vitus had turned her into something of a misandrist, anyways... But still, that was a thought for another time. Right now, some girl she owed a debt of care to was messaging her frantically to ask for details.


    A group activity? What, like a threesome? An orgy, even? That seemed... Excessive. Too many bodies. Too much drinking. Too many drugs, oftentimes. That was a scene she was trying to get away from... A version of herself she had tried so hard to escape. To go back now, when she had the closest approximation of a good thing going that she had ever held in her hands, would be a failure on her part. It would be a betrayal of EJ''s trust, if not Est and Kell''s. Speaking of Kell...


    Purity looked up and away from the phone to where Kell usually lounged, sleeping sitting up. Not tonight. Tonight, a pair of eyes looked out at her from the darkness, the glint of them giving them away, wide open and devoid of sleep. Purity nearly screamed, but practice holding back such exclamations came in useful once again. Kell went to stand and approach once spotted, her eyes returning to their normal half-lidded nature, her crocodilian smile appearing once more. Once she got near to Purity, she leaned over so that she could whisper, so as not to wake the pair yet slumbering.


    "Hey, Puri...! Sorry about... Scaring you, I think. I... I have trouble sleeping most nights. Days, I guess? I dunno, I''ve only been undead a few years, still used to using mortal terms for things... Sorry, is that racist? Like, calling you mor-" She was only stopped by a gesture from Purity, a single finger raised and pressed to an otherwise open mouth in a moment of gentle emphasis. Puri began to whisper then, her brows furrowing in annoyance, but her chest rising to then fall in a sigh of relief.


    "Kell. No, it''s not racist, we are mortal, you are... Indefinite? I guess? Who cares. Whatever. I don''t mind if you have difficulty sleeping, but hey, like, what the fuck. Don''t just stare at people while they sleep, okay? It''s fucked up." Purity took a few more cycles of breathing in and exhaling to calm her nerves, having felt a single bead of sweat appear at her forehead before rolling down her face; its descent was cut short as she wiped it away with her free hand. Kell nodded in response to her words, then taking the silence by force with another fusillade of sound.


    "Whuh? Oh, shit, I wasn''t staring at you... I was eyeing over Est. She''s... Interesting. Weird. Never met a Wayward before. The New Way was always supposed to be this big, scary machine, a furnace that ate up good little boys ''n ghouls and spat out black oil and crematory ashes. But she''s... Softer than you''d expect, y''know?" Kell smirked down at the sleeping cyborg, taking a hand and running it through her own mop of hair before gazing back up to Purity. "She''s not the monster we were made to hate. I hope she knows we aren''t like that, either."


    Purity was a bit taken aback by this, for myriad reasons, but before she could interject, Kell continued. "You know... We aren''t all meat-hungry cannibals, killing eachother for our next meal. We''re still people. Somewhere deep inside, we''re still human. We have thoughts and feelings and kindness and cruelty. We can be more than just... Cogs in the machine, I''d like to think." Puri''s frown softened to a look of confusion as Kell began to wax philosophical, but still, it took some seconds of silence before she dared offer reproach.


    The pink-haired club retiree sighed, shaking her head and closing her eyes. "No, no... I mean, you''re right, we are all human despite it all. Life puts us through some shit, a lot of awful shit, horrible, terrible shit that breaks us all out of shape and bends us into new, awful shapes. But even if you shape a lump of clay into a sword and use it to stab someone to death in front of their kids, it''s still clay, right?" She opened her eyes as she finished, lips curling at the edges in a wry smile. It felt good to smile, even with such gallows humor as that. Take whatever you can get, right?


    Kell nodded and offered a similarly grim grin, going to sit down pretzel-legged on the other side of the sleeping bag so she could continue conversing. She was careful not to bother Esthrielle with her big stompy combat boots, but if the Wayward rolled the wrong way, she''d have a face-and-mouth full of bootheel. "Mmhm, mmhm... I think about that a lot, y''know? Why are we so terrible to eachother? Humans, as a species, that is. Why do we kill and rape and enslave and abuse eachother? Cause it makes us feel strong? Stupid. So fucking stupid."


    The pair continued their conversation for countless minutes, the time whipping by them, more and more of the same sort of recursive rhetoric being passed back and forth. In a way, it wasn''t the content of the conversation itself that mattered, it was the fact that it was happening at all. In Vitus, if not the rest of the husk of mother Earth, cruelty was to be expected. Humanity''s evils weren''t just inevitable, they were profuse. And if you stopped to ask why, if you took a moment to try and gather yourself and rally against the dark, it would consume you while your defenses were lowered. There was no avoiding it.


    Eventually, the pair cut it short. They didn''t want to bother the double E''s in their in-between, and Purity had some messages to respond to, anyways. Before she went, Kell spoke up one last time, her face cheery but her tone having taken a notable downswing from earlier. "If you could die, Purity, would you want to stay dead? Or would you want to come back, like us? If you had a choice, y''know. Tsang isn''t too keen on respecting DNR orders, but like, if they were?" The weight in her tone belied a deeper sort of meaning to the question that Purity couldn''t quite parse, the mist about Kell''s inner workings was still too thick, but it set the pinkette on edge.


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    "Uhh... I guess I''d come back. I mean, there''s still so much left for me to do, right? A-And, y''know, I''d want to be with... With EJ. With Whatever she''s got going on. When I first picked her up and took her home, I didn''t realize she''d end up such a hot commodity, I''ll be honest... Plenty of diminutive, timid little office-worker girls in Vitus, but... Still. I want to be with her. She''s made me feel a way that nothing else has for a long, long time."


    Kell nodded, a trademark Kell motion to make, before turning and returning to her chair without a further word. Purity was left without an answer as to the meaning of the question, no glimpse into the deeper meaning of all of that. It didn''t help her nerves in the slightest, and the edge she had been set upon wasn''t particularly sharp, but it was keen enough to cut if settled upon for too long. She turned down to her phone, hammering out a small, quick response to her ex-playmate to placate her without making any hard commitments. She just wanted to get back to sleep.


    [ Yaaaaaaa, me n a nu grl r playin arnd recently n mby we cn meet up for supper <3 ]


    And bam, text sent, in the most casual, horrid text-lingo she could muster. Usually she was fucking shitfaced when texting these girls, but now, she was more awake and aware than she had ever been when communicating with any of them - and so, hopefully the mask was genuine. Now that the text had been sent, though, she was free to go back to where she belonged - at her blonde lover''s side, or in this case back, holding her about the midsection and squeezing her tenderly in the morning''s harsh embrace.


    She slipped low beneath the edge of the sleeping bag, hoping the sensation of her own body brushing against her petite partner''s wouldn''t wake the latter up. It didn''t, or so it seemed, and so she set the phone away from herself and ensured it was on mute. Back to sleep... Back to safety. Back to the sanctuary of her own dreams, muddled though they may be, and a bit wary now that she knew that Kell had been watching Est during the night. Fuck, she forgot to address that - she''d have to the next time she got a second to talk to Kell. Seemed weird... Kell had been giving off strange vibes since the first time she had met the brunette.


    Oh, Tsang asset reclamation or whatever the fuck those glorified repo-men thugs were called show up, and all of a sudden EJ happens to know a literal anti-Tsang activist who knows how to help them escape, where they can all hide out together, and how to lay low long enough that Tsang stops looking for them with the same ferocity as at the start of an investigation? It was sketchy to Purity, to say the least... And sketchy shit almost never turned out properly, in her experience. There was always a catch.


    That''s just how shit happened to be, though, wasn''t it? There was always some sort of catch. Some wrench in the system, some razorblade in the Halloween candy. Every bargain in the UCAS felt Faustian in nature. Even the whole undeath thing... It was selling your labor, your very existence, to the highest bidder just so that you could wring a little bit more juice out of life before you moved on. Fuck. Was that what Kell had been talking about? God damn political extremists, getting their worms in your head.


    She sighed and shut her eyes. She''d think about it more later, probably, but for now, she put all that shit about deals and selling yourself from her head. Nuzzling up close to EJ, she took a deep breath of her woman''s scent - the distant vestiges of perfume and shampoo mingling with fresher notes of body oil, blood, and that light sort of sweat the second-living made - and shut her eyes. Her thoughts went, instead, to Esthrielle.


    Again, Kell had been right. Est wasn''t the monster the East had always been made out to be. She was normal in a lot of ways, and even friendly and likable in many of those same ways. It was shocking almost - to finally meet a Wayward in person, one that apparently had killed multiple people in the past and sent at least a dozen to their true death if her stories were to be believed, but... She was human. Normal. She breathed normally, she spoke normally, she ate normally, she... Presumably pissed normally and all that. Full bodily function, not like the second-living. She was anything but what the propaganda fliers and ads would have you believe.


    They would''ve told you she ate babies, kicked puppies, and stabbed second-living with silvered knives just for kicks. They would''ve told you she was a monster - evil in ways too terrible to describe, hell-bent on dismantling the entire UCAS, burning all of Vitus to the ground, and pissing on the graves of everyone who stood in her way. If she could piss, that was. Purity still wasn''t sure on that one, and she wasn''t about to ask. Still, though, Esthrielle was...


    Seeing her like this, bruised and beaten, body sore from what she had been put through even now, vulnerable and willingly so around those she trusted enough to fall asleep near... It was impossible to believe she was harmful. Maybe not harmless - she had been involved in that firebombing last week, after all. She had killed people. She would probably kill more people before her time in Vitus came to an end. But still... Maybe they deserved to die? Maybe Vitus deserved to be burned to the ground. Maybe it would be justice, in a way.


    Fuck. No, no, no. Enough of that. God damn Kell getting her claws into Purity''s mind. It was bedtime. She was gonna snuggle those two poor girlies beside her sooooo strongly when they woke up, they would forget what it felt like to not be held. They both deserved it, and needed it badly. All three of them did, but Purity had told herself she had to stop being so woe-is-me about her own troubles. And with what had happened when they went into town last... Eugh.


    EJ had told her, of course. Est had been there to confirm or deny things, but she hadn''t been strong enough - hadn''t dealt with it enough in her own mind, found the right ways to cope yet - to take the floor herself at any point. That had been fine, though. Their experience, with Judas? The cat? EJ eating a dude alive on a sidewalk? God above, she didn''t find herself jealous in the slightest. They had been through a sort of Hell, too, just like she had been - and all it took was it happening and affecting Purity to make Purity really realize it.


    That particular note made her bitter, though she didn''t try to fight it. She had been so caught up in her own pain that she had nearly coerced Esper James into some pretty one-sided sex very early in their relationship, for fuck''s sake. Purity hadn''t even thought of EJ''s side of things. And now, with the benefit of hindsight, that sort of thinking - the self-serving nature of it all, eating up and away at those you love - dug into her like a dagger in her ribs. It tasted acrid on her tongue.


    Enough! Fuck! She slapped herself on the forehead a time to try and shake this sort of nonsense from her head. She was trying to sleep, surrounded by women who cared about her and wanted her safe, and whom she cared about and wanted safe in turn! Why was she so focused on this sort of awful thinking?! She scrunched her face up and harrumphed, nuzzling in deeper to EJ''s neck and actively trying not to think of anything at all. And soon enough, the thoughts drifted away, while Kell resumed her distant watch. Tomorrow would be a new day. Hopefully a good one.


    At her seat, Kell drew her pistol and began to play with it again.

 Act Three (Ch. 44) - In The Cold Cold Night; or, On and On and Onsen

    That evening came with a somber aura, a dampened mood that hung upon the quartet like a heavy yoke. The pains of recent nocturnal happenings still stung and ached like fresh scars, and all - save Kell, as far as was known - had suffered. It felt like a slab of stone had been slung about their necks by a rope, every last motion too draining to do quickly or with even a hint of energy. Even Kell seemed to be feeling it - she had been playing with her sidearm all night, her normal shotgun propped up in the corner. That, too had been fiddled with for a time, but racking the pump on repeat and then reloading the shells by hand had become too droll to continue on.


    Purity had done her part to, in her own appraisal, an admirable degree. As soon as EJ was up and about, Purity had begun coddling her as much as her own diminished social battery allowed. Esthrielle awoke later, and took longer to rise from their approximation of a bed. Once the three were each in some semblance of wakefulness, they took to the couch, prodded and herded there by Purity''s well-meaning musings. Once there, they fell about one another, Esper James taking her place in the center, Est to her left, Purity to her right.


    It was Kell''s turn to go gather their food for the evening, and so the trio was left alone with one another for company. It was peaceful... serene in ways that had escaped each of them in recent days, and yet, the looming dread of discovery hung above them as a new-age sword of Damocles. Every night, the frayed string threatened to snap - and every morning, as they slept, the rats of Tsang came to nibble at each little fiber. Even rare moments of calm like these were marred by the ever-present threat that their individual crimes had brought upon themselves.


    However, they couldn''t simply languish indefinitely, letting the time while away as they marked the midnights until the bogeyman of corporate tyranny found and dispatched them. And frankly, while the second-living were allowed a degree of neglect in their own self-care, those who yet retained full organic function had no such liberties. It had been some time at this point since Purity or Esthrielle had last had a god damn bath, all things considered, and its not like this abandoned factory had any semblance of a shower - or at least, not one that still worked.


    And so, at Purity''s urging, they began to brainstorm. Basic hygiene was important now perhaps more than ever - not like if they caught something they could just go see a doctor or anything like that. No, they had to find some way to get clean. Especially EJ, with how bloody she had been when she arrived home the other evening. The trio went down the list of options they could think of, each one contemplated and then ruled out in turn.


    A motel bathroom? No, that was too public, and with the activities that surrounded most of the seedier, lower-quality motels in Vitus, they had as good a chance of getting mugged or worse as they did getting a hot bath. A trucker rest-stop? While they existed in profusion in Vitus, many of them also had Tsang agents there for the convenience of drivers who needed to get loading and offloading information, or just coordination with Tsang in general. Plus, most of the rest-stops were near the outskirts of Vitus, and Vitus was large to the point of enormity.


    EJ or Purity''s old apartments? Hell no. EJ''s place was presumably ash and cinders from the fire, and Purity''s abode... Firstly, too public. She had lived in a nicer area of Vitus, and so cameras were ubiquitous, in addition to more upstanding residents who would actually report them to the authorities. And furthermore, though she didn''t voice this concern, Purity wasn''t sure if she was strong enough to go back and see the vestiges of a life now left behind. Both the good and the bad would cripple her: the photos of her parents, the little knick-knacks she had decorated with, even the kitchen stove where she had cooked many a meal for sleepover guests...


    And of course, the more negative aspects as well: the hollow bedpost where she kept a silvered knife, the drawer where she kept her toys and a roll or two of condoms, the Tsang standard-issue distress beacon in the closet that she had been given that she was also fairly convinced was an auditory surveillance device. Each of these and more would break her down more than they would build her up, and the benefit of getting a hot, cleansing shower or bath with her companions wasn''t enough incentive to even try to block out the memories.


    Frankly, she''d rather the place just burned the hell down, like EJ''s apartment. We can''t always get what we want in life, though...


    The next idea, from EJ''s lips to the trio''s ears, was to head to a bathhouse. After the War of Benefaction, much of Asia was destroyed in nuclear war - with many refugees fleeing to either the ERFS through way of Siberia, or to the UNAC by sea paths to Hawaii, or some of the other relatively nearby islands that the UNAC had annexed or outright conquered in the war. As such, vestiges of various Asian cultures inundated various niches of everyday life in the UNAC, but it was far more prominent in the unofficially Tsang-owned Vitus.


    And so, a bathhouse wasn''t an unlikely thing to see nestled between businesses on any given street. Of course, as luxury areas, they were far from accessible in most regions of the city... though there were a few seedier options in the underbelly of town, usually sharing a space with other businesses of ill repute like quote unquote "massage parlours". Still, they got you clean... And that was what the three of them needed, right?


    Initially, Est started to reject the idea, but Purity raised a finger to give her pause. Est fell silent as per request, and EJ began to make her case. Having changed into a pair of grey sweatpants and an unmarked black shirt, both acquired from a shelter''s charity offerings, she spoke with a timid inflection of cowed deference to ensure she didn''t step on any toes. "W-Well, uh... If we go to a, a discount place, y''know, Tsang isn''t gonna find us there... Cameras in those districts are always getting painted over, or so I heard at work..."


    Est''s expression softened, and she crossed her mechanized arms, a little hiss emitting from a few discreet vents near the shoulders as they shifted. Esper James continued on, emboldened by the reaction, nestling herself deeper into Purity''s loose embrace as the blonde turned to bodily face Est. "A-And, you know how those sorts of places are, right? Like... Cops don''t hang around there! They know better... And it was a huge profit-sink to keep deploying troopers around high-crime areas, cause of constant turnover, so they stopped doing it..."


    Est grinned at that, though the mirth was mostly directed disparagingly towards Tsang. It felt fitting that the corporate plutocrats of Tsang would leave the poor to suffer in crime-riddled backstreets simply for sake of their own revenue flow. The Wayward sighed and tightened her crossing-arms position, making a great and performative show of rolling her eyes and head back and away in a display of resignation. This was accompanied by a loud, overdone vocalization somewhere between a groan and a sigh.


    "Aaaaugh, fineeeeee. Shit, you two would walk straight into a god damn snake nest if it gave you a chance to prove me wrong, wouldn''t you? Fuck it. Get your shit gathered up, I''ll write Kell a note explaining where we''re off to. Puri, pull up directions or something, yeah? I''ve got a credit card, I''ll pay..." As she pushed to a stand, the weighty mood was somewhat lifted, and Esper James even found herself smiling. A girls'' night out on the town? Not going somewhere Judas would be able to find them? It sounded like just what the mortician ordered.


    Without much further ado, the three of them began their trek. Purity used her phone to pull up a direct route to the nearest bathhouse, Est took a spare handgun that Kell had procured and left for the three of them ''just in case'', and EJ... EJ was there. Esper James showed up for moral support. Frankly, that was good enough, and though she tried to put the thought of it from her mind, she was at least slightly convinced that if the chips were down and they were backed against a wall, she could gather up some of that feral nature that pooled in the hearts of all second-living.


    She tried not to think about the taste of that officer''s flesh and blood on her tongue as she told herself she could become that beast again, if necessary. She could feel the pull of it in her mind even with the barest of consideration, and she''d rather not degenerate into a meat-eating monster who knew only brutality and hunger when her only dining options were her lover and her compatriot.


    Compatriot? That didn''t feel right. But neither did calling Est a friend, not after the other night... Not after every night they''d shared came together in one great knot of pain and comfort, at the very least. Though she knew the circumstances were anything but ideal, she couldn''t help but feel a growing affinity for Esthrielle after everything, and she could only hope the pale-haired girl felt the same. It felt strange to consider, to directly address in her mind, but...


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    Even since the first time they had slept beside one another, back when Est had EJ housing her under duress, she couldn''t help but feel some measure of fondness for her touch and presence. And these recent evenings, sleeping beside her and Purity, without any pretense of duress or expectation of compliance or anything even close, had any pre-existing emotional barriers worn down to the nub. She liked Est, and not only as a friend, though outright contemplation of those sorts of feelings made the ghoulette feel weak.


    After all, she had Purity. Purity was amazing, was everything Esper James had ever wanted: caring, sweet, kind, comforting, plush to the touch, and to be blunt, great in bed - though EJ was loathe to admit she didn''t have much experience to compare Purity''s performance to in the slightest. Purity was, in a lot of ways, EJ''s dream girl... or what she had always told herself was her dream girl. She checked all the boxes; she was the type of girl, trauma-induced abuse aside, that EJ would have taken home to Halifax to meet her family.


    So why Est? Why now? These feelings didn''t seem to have a cause, no determinable wellspring, but... She thought back to that night in the snow and dark and cold, running barefoot through slush and ice, the heavy weight of Judas''s gun in her hand. Two shots rang out through the dark in her memorial reverie, and in the present, she shut her eyes and let the hands of her companions lead her through the streets and down rough concrete paths towards their destination.


    She had told herself she didn''t kill Est because she couldn''t have brought herself to. Now, in the face of two new bodies in the morgues at her own hands, she was reconsidering that explanation. She did have what it took to kill - but then again, the men that EJ had killed were only condemned to second-life, not true death. Killing Est, though... There would have been no second chance. No coming dawn to drag her up and out of the depths, no mortician to pull her from the cold-wombs. No future. Just the darkness that lingered past the veil.


    When she broke free of her reminisce, eyes re-opening, they were at the bathhouse. A bright sign in flickering neon kanji spoke the name of the establishment: ''Onigashima Bathhouse''. A few poorly-done murals of Japanese ogres from distant myth adorned the otherwise unappealing brick walls of the building, but otherwise, the only approximation of decor was a large hand-made sign of plywood that hung from a string nailed to the wall near an open window and counter. The sign entailed prices, for baths and services rendered.


    She grimaced as she noticed the few people hanging around the counter: two women and an effeminate man, dressed far too scantily for the icy weather, each of them smoking a cheap-smelling cigarette. The slender male''s eyes lit up as he saw the trio, and he flipped his long brown locks from his shoulder in a flirtatious gesture, only managing to take a single step towards the three fugitives before a silent glare from Est cowed him. The three street-workers stepped off to the side of the counter as Esthrielle approached, leaning against the sheer steel of it to address the greasy, overweight man who seemed to be the proprietor.


    A few doors along the outside of the building were their salvation: doors to individual baths. While Est discussed the price and accoutrements with the owner, Purity took EJ''s held hand and used it to gently coax her over to one of the doors. It was marred with graffiti both lecherous and crass, but even from outside, the pair could feel warmth radiating from the door. EJ shivered, and leaned into Purity''s body.


    "You excited, EJ? Finally, a god damn bath... Something to get that blood out of your hair, and a chance to freshen up. It feels like it''s been fucking centuries since I last got to feel hot water on my skin..." Purity waxed nostalgic for the sensation of a shower, going to put her arms about her diminutive lover to squeeze her tightly. Esper James wouldn''t even dream of letting the gesture go unrewarded, and nuzzled into the taller woman''s torso in return.


    Only a minute or two more and Esthrielle had returned. She bore with her an armful of hygiene goods: disposable toothbrushes, a single travel-sized bottle of shampoo, and a similarly pathetic-looking tube of toothpaste. There was a cheap bar of soap stuffed into one of her pockets. She gestured with her head towards the door, and Purity took the lead, opening it and heading on in. None of them commented on the apparent lack of locking mechanism.


    On the inside, the room was small but stiflingly hot and steamy: plain tiled floors in a light shade of grey perfectly complimented plain brick walls in a similar shade of grey, the entire room given a damp warmth from the circular bath in the center of the room. A lone fluorescent light attached to the ceiling gave the room anything but a cultivated ambiance, unless the ambiance being cultivated was discomfort and alertness.


    Purity began to undress first, soon joined by Esper James; Est waited until the other two were fully bared and dipping into the bath to take her turn, her trust far from placed in the lone, unlocked door standing between them and any potential delinquents. The water was hot, at least, and looked to be clean, though it was a far cry from the scented pools of enriched comfort that an upscale bathhouse would provide.


    Initially, each woman sat with space between themselves, focusing on actually bathing. For Esper James, even her first night with Purity was hard-pressed to compete with the ecstasy of cleaning the dried blood and oily grime from herself. She dunked herself beneath the surface and held her head down there until she couldn''t stand it anymore - minutes passed, many more than a mortal could attain. When she resurfaced, gasping in air, she found Purity and Est snickering at her antics before going to imitate her in turn. After all, their hair did need washing.


    No words were said for an indeterminably long stretch of time. Purity simply slid herself along the seat-ledge which lined the outside of the bath to get closer to EJ, going to wash her hair for her without any request being made or necessary; EJ, in turn, beckoned soundlessly for Esthrielle to come closer so that the blonde could scrub the Wayward''s own mop of hair. Est begrudgingly accepted, hesitant at first, but feeling EJ''s hands upon her and carefully, tenderly massaging her scalp while scrubbing her hair clean? It had Est''s initial resistance melting into the waters of the bath which surrounded her.


    Once Est''s hair was clean, she shook herself from the state of pleasant acceptance she had allowed herself to be coaxed into, going then to help EJ wash Purity''s hair. Once all three women had their hair scrubbed and soaked, they began to share the single bar of soap amongst themselves: the washing of the body was far less a group activity than the head, at least tonight, and so they lingered there in the warmth while each of them had their turn with the soap.


    And then, cleanliness acquired, they sat. Still wordless, though not soundless: Purity hummed gently, pleasantly, to herself - Est sighed at odd intervals with contented tones, the warm cocoon of the waters helping to drain away the grief and pain of the past week. It would take a lot more than a hot bath to help her deal with her trauma, but it was a start.


    How long had they been in that bath? In that room, even? Ten minutes? Twenty? An hour? The time had escaped each of them, any semblance of caution or focus on such matters having been cast aside in favor of languishing apathetically in the warmth. Their defenses had been lowered completely, and the comfort of such a luxury wasn''t lost on any of them; it was nearly euphoric, just getting to sit there, lean against the wall of the tub, and shut their eyes for a few moments.


    Eventually, those earlier thoughts dredged themselves up in EJ''s brain, and she found her eyes wandering back to Est. She was... It burned EJ up, how cute Est was in that moment. How normal she seemed... how real, how nearly harmless she looked. She wasn''t a killer, not like she had been when the two had first met. She wasn''t the same woman she had been a week ago, far from it, in fact. That was nice, to be fully honest - Est had been callous, nearly outright cruel when the two had first met in the alley. But now, she was just a person that EJ cared about, without any sort of coercion involved or even needed.


    But also, that raised a further question. Were any of them the same person as they were a week ago, really? EJ felt a ball form in the pit of her stomach at the self-imposed question, one that was simultaneously burning hot and icy cold. Fuck. Was anyone really ever the same after things like they had gone through?


    She sighed, though it came out more as a whimper. Everything suddenly felt so fucked. She hoped, quietly and desperately, that things could maybe start going right for her for a change.

 Act Three (Ch. 45) - A Deeper Shade of Pale; or, Unconventional

    The bath was, in many senses, a godsend. The heat of it, the steam in the air, the presences of comforting, safe companions... For some, especially attendees of this particular establishment, there was a sensual undertone to group bathing. The nude bodies, the incessant heat of it all, the freedom of motion given by deep water - but for Esper James, Purity, and Esthrielle, there was no such eroticism in the act so much as there was serenity and tender delight.


    Even with the sudden downtone in EJ''s disposition, she quickly recovered. Having a beautiful pair of women wash your hair and back for you, and doing the same to them in turn, was certainly a mood-fixer. EJ couldn''t deny that, despite the lack of erotic nature in the actions, it was nice to be touched... To be felt, to be handled. It was relaxing and self-securing in a way rarely found, to give another access to your body in so intimate a way, without any expectation or offer of anything further. It almost brought with it a sense of communion, to bare one''s flesh and soul and be touched upon without any pretense.


    Eventually, once they were clean, they took their time to relax. Esthrielle had paid for a significant period of time, and even with the time they had already spent, there was a sort of tranquility in each one''s heart that seemed to speak and say ''just five more minutes''. This sentiment was repeated once, twice, thrice, and eventually, the heat began to really wear away at Purity, visibly so. She looked so tired, in the way that exhaustive heat brings exhaustion, how a draining warmth drains you. EJ watched as the pinkette stumbled to a stand, pushing herself up and out of the tub, going to begin drying herself off.


    And then, there came a knock on the door. Time to vacate? No, thought EJ, it couldn''t be the abrasive owner of the place... He would''ve just barged in for the dual delight of seeing naked women and also getting to verbally abuse them. The trio looked towards the door and waited for the imminent opening, but none came - instead, after a minute or two, a knock came again. This time, it was louder, more insistent, but not by much. EJ, pushing herself up from the bath, took it upon herself to get up and go to address the attempted intrusion.


    Her body glistened in the oppressive fluorescence of the overhead light, and her feet slapped wetly against the tiles as she made her way to the solid metal door. Est rose up as well, going to shadow her, but saying nothing - she had seen how EJ could deal with problems when the chips were down, and she trusted the ghoulette to be able to handle violence if it came to that. Esper James cracked the door open a sliver, just to peek outside, and when she did, her red-flecked emeralds widened in surprise.


    The male she had seen outside earlier, the one who had attempted to approach them, stood there shivering. His cigarette was long gone - now, instead, he bore the scent of a fragrant, musky perfume, somewhere between floral and fruity and lingering baked goods, with a deep undertone of the aforementioned musk. His arms were wrapped about himself, hands on his biceps, and he was huddled down upon himself in an attempt to hide from winter''s chill. His silken brown locks fell like curtains to frame his face and drape upon his back and shoulders, but they were little comfort from the frost in the air.


    Before EJ could say anything, or Esthrielle could step forwards and shoo him back into the night, he spoke in a tone both hushed and urgent. "H-Hey...! I, uhm, I was just... I''ll get t-t-to the point. There''re some guys o-out here, say they''re looking for you... At least, I as-s-ssume you? Estreal? Est-ree-elle? I j-just... You three looked nice, so I wanted to give you a h-heads up..." He smiled briefly, a wide and well-practiced beam that was cut short as he grimaced from the wind.


    EJ nearly shut the door in his face to turn to Est, who stood aghast as the information relayed, but a softness in her heart got the better of her. She opened the door a bit wider, just enough for the boy to slip through, and then grabbed him by the arm and pulled him in. The door was promptly shut behind him, and Est took EJ''s place to ensure it stayed closed. In the light, the street-worker was seen in more detail, and EJ couldn''t help but look him over as she considered her next move in regards to the men outside.


    The boy (who had stumbled to the floor) was clad in little more than a crop-top that barely went below his pecs, some similarly pathetic shorts, and a choker with spikes on it to make it seem as a collar. His arms were clad up to nearly the shoulder in long, sleek gloves, and his legs had a similarly nearly-to-the-hip pair of stockings that doubled as platform heels. Each garment was skin-tight, almost painfully so, and made of a glossy black latex - nothing to really fight off the winter''s cold. But, as they say, hoes don''t get cold, do they? Apparently they do.


    His hair was long and gossamer, silken and straight, a lovely chestnut brown and obviously given lots of care. His skin, too, looked plenty soft and well-cared-for: sun-kissed tones that spoke of a tanning machine''s touch, and free of blemish everywhere one could see. His eyes were a warm brown, as well, but it was in truth closer to amber. EJ leant down to help him stand, her hands taking him by the torso and stabilizing him as his already slick hands slipped while trying to push himself up from the wet tiles.


    Purity was less upset than one would imagine by his sudden entrance, at least as far as her appearance went - she went to help EJ help him to a stand, her towel thrown away. Est, however, was less than concerned about the failed male''s wellbeing - she crossed her arms and pressed her back to the door, eyes narrowing to a glare. "Ok, so. I''ll come clean. With all the time I''ve been spending with you two, I haven''t reported in for a long time, and now here I am using my associates'' money to buy a bath for three? They''re here for me. I can vouch for you two, but it''s not gonna be easy. Just do what I say. Ok?"


    EJ left the effeminate male to Purity''s experienced care, turning to Est. She kept her eyes on the Wayward while going to grab a towel, drying off of utmost importance if they were going to need to leave. She went to speak even as she was drying herself, and once the drying was done, continued on while going to re-dress. "So... More people who want me dead or detained. More people who would see this whole city burn, right? And maybe it deserves to burn, but... Eugh. So, what, are we gonna pretend to be your captives? A second-living and a sympathizer?"


    Est put a hand up to the bridge of her nose, pinching and massaging it, her eyes shutting. A deep, exasperated sigh rolled from her lungs, and she took a deep breath before responding. "Ok. Yeah. Sure. That works. That... Works. We''ll see if they buy it, but if they think it''s just me that''ll be an issue... Fuck. We''ll make it work, I''ll do whatever they say. If they want me to come back to the convent, I can do that... You two might need to come with me. Might need to send a text to Kell, but still."


    The convent? There were still a few churches in Vitus, it was true, but no convents. Anything close to a nun would be mortified to live in a place like Vitus, and given how the Catholic church viewed the second-living, the concept of it was outright blasphemous. So EJ wondered, nearly aloud, where or what Est was referring to. It was a bit absurd to think that there would be some form of underground, hidden community of fucking nuns of all things, secreted away somewhere in Vitus''s underbelly.


    Behind her, Purity spoke what Esper James was thinking, holding their guest close to proffer warmth despite her own nudity. "A convent? In Vitus? Next you''ll tell me they''re giving away free money around the corner. And you never struck me as the nun type, Est - y''know, confession booths, strict schedules, flowy robes... And more, if I''m to believe any of those videos of nuns I''ve seen online..." She ended the sentence with a flirtatious, teasing lilt, and in an instant Esthrielle was red as blood and fuming.


    "Purity this is not the fucking time to be perverse with me about my religious affiliation. Plus, disrespecting nuns by relegating them to fetish material is... Crass! I''d bite your fucking ear off if we didn''t need to get our asses in gear right now. C''mon, get dressed, I''ll..." She trailed off as she realized she was still nude, too, and begrudgingly shifted away from the door to begin to dry and dress herself.


    "U-Uhh, uhm, I''m... I''m Cinna, by the way... Don''t worry about me, I''ll just stay out of your way..." The male in Purity''s arms gently pushed himself free, going to let the pinkette dress herself, too. He took a few steps to the side so that the ladies might be unhindered, and did his best not to obstruct them. Purity obliged, going to dress herself as well, though she kept casting glances over towards Cinna as he huddled near the bath to try and absorb its warmth.


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    Eventually, the three women were fully dressed. They looked to one another, wordless, each contemplating how to go about proceeding with the inevitable confrontation. Eventually, they came to the silent agreement for Est to go first - it only made sense, for the supposed captor to lead her captives out. The door was opened, and Cinna offered a little, unseen wave towards the trio as they stepped out into the December ice.


    Nighttime was always colder than the day, as everyone knows, but this evening was practically glacial. Like the locker of a morgue, where bodies are stored before autopsy or reanimation, a chill mist seemed to envelop the entirety of the city as far as any of them could see. It was unnerving, to see a city so active with factories and various forms of life so frozen to the core, but now wasn''t the time to comment on such things. They had some people to meet, and with Esthrielle dutifully leading the way, meet them they would.


    Rounding the corner of the bathhouse''s bare brick walls, Est''s ''people'' came into view. A long, expensive vehicle which subtly aped a hearse in its build sat pouring exhaust from its tailpipes, windows tinted an impenetrable black which matched its paintjob. Leaning against the vehicle were a pair of figures - a woman and a man. The woman was slim but deceptively strong, judging from the way her coat hugged her arms and torso; her skin was pale and her hair blonde, her eyes a piercing blue-nearly-white.


    Everything about her was flawless: her hair was gorgeous and healthy, silken but with gentle curls near the tips; her skin was vibrant despite its ivory pallor, looking soft and supple and well-moisturized; her eyes were alert and present, the consciousness which they represented wholly aware of the surroundings and situation. Even her movements hid a subtle grace - speaking to the man openly in Italian, making gentle gestures with her hands to help convey herself, she held the machine-like perfection of all true adherents of the New Way.


    The man, too, held this perfection which was nearly obscene. Long black hair, much like a waterfall tainted with tar, cascaded down to mid-back; his skin was an olive tone, paled from the nocturnal living Vitus demanded; his eyes, a vibrant, glowing gold, obvious LED replacements. His overall appearance was one of feminine beauty mingling with masculine power - a strong jawline, powerful but well-maintained brows, and elegant cheekbones accentuating a body both slender and strong. Either he was gifted by God, or had had an extensive amount of work done, but given his profession, either was just as likely.


    Esthrielle''s jaw dropped as soon as she saw the pair, and her stern demeanor of a woman marching off to die was replaced by childish glee. The hydraulics in her legs were gently audible in the still winter air as she raced over to the duo, hands immediately clutching at the black cotton trench coat which the man wore. She looked up at him as a puppy does its master, the smile on her face irrepressible, and if she had a tail, it would be wagging just the same. His stoic expression, lips wrapped about a cigarette, broke into a warm, affectionate smirk as he lowered his gaze to meet hers.


    EJ and Purity hustled a bit more than they had been prepared for to keep up, reaching Esthrielle a few seconds after she had made her mark. The two in the black coats spoke with the white-haired Wayward in Italian, the language barrier unable to be crossed by the two UNAC natives who joined them, but from their tones, this wouldn''t be such a confrontation as it had been portrayed. Moreso, it was a homecoming; a reunion. EJ felt her shoulders relax as the muscles in her body un-clenched, a breath she hadn''t know herself to be holding released in a relieved sigh.


    The three Italians spoke for a few more moments, culminating in the tall man leaning down to kiss Est on either cheek, and Est giving him the same with a bashful awkwardness. She then stepped back, gesturing towards Purity and EJ. She began to speak with an uncharacteristic rapidity, some ambrosia having been dribbled into her mouth from a distant Heaven to embolden her and revitalize her in the face of her associated.


    "Ok! So! English now, please, I haven''t had the time to... N-Nevermind! This is Esper James Price-Wynnfield, and her lover, Purity, uhh... French?" She looked inquisitively to Purity, who put a hand over her mouth to hide her soft laughter. "It''s Francharde, Est. Purity Alouise Francharde. An honor to meet you, any associates of Est''s are friends of ours." Purity gave a slight, curt bow, and EJ followed suit after a moment to process this all. The tall man nodded, going to take Purity''s hand and raise it to his lips, placing a tender kiss on the back of it.


    "Luca. Luca Esippardi. You know who we are, what we do... Where we are from. Expect no such discussion. We are here to collect Esthrielle, and, should you two be willing, you as well... Esthrielle has given many reports as to her life here in Vitus. We would like to speak with the both of you further." His dulcet, luxurious tones were as creamy and dreamlike as the finest caramel - something unnoticeable in his intonation, just below perceived speech, set the trio at ease. His gaze then turned to EJ, whom he nodded his head to, going to give her the same courtesy he had given Purity.


    "Especially you, little ghoul. Esthrielle has spoken much of you. A sinner you may be, but not by choice, and while we are... Ill-suited to handling your kind in a social capacity, we will take Esthrielle''s recommendation into consideration. I can assure you safety in our care." He capped this all off with a wink and a grin, his teeth just as immaculate as the rest of his appearance. EJ felt her knees wobble a bit at the gesture, and as the sudden turn of fortune.


    They had been on the run, hiding from Tsang in a dirty, derelict warehouse, living off of discount street food, and now here were Est''s people to show up and offer to take them in? Give them protection? Security? A place to hide that was, ideally, a bit more comfortable than a sleeping bag on the floor? It was nearly too much to believe, but given how happy Est was to see this pair, and how he and his female associate hadn''t simply ventilated the ghoulette, Purity, and the bystanders at the bathhouse, she was willing to try. Willing to hope.


    EJ nodded rapidly, her blonde locks catching the street-light as they whipped about in the air. "Y-Yes! I mean, uh, thank... Thank you, sir, Mr. Esippardi. I would be more than happy to discuss whatever you wish, tell you everything I know... Tsang are my enemies, too. I-I used to, used to work for them, I''m sure I could tell you somethi-" She was silenced by a single raised finger from Luca''s hand, his grin still present, his demeanor that of a man accosted by over-eager pets.


    "Just Luca will be fine. Esthrielle''s reports say you prefer EJ, so I will use that. And yes, I am sure there is much you can tell us... But that will all be in due time. For now, the three of you look cold, and your clothes are old and worn. Back at the convent, we can help you. Esthrielle, I''m sure you have questions for me, too... I will answer them, I promise. It''s the least I can do. Now. Everyone inside the car. Time is of the essence." The three disheveled women listened in rapt attention as Luca spoke, and when he had finished, it took him going to stride toward the shotgun door and slip himself in for them to break their trance.


    In short order, the trio and the unfamiliar woman were each inside the vehicle. EJ, Purity, and Est sat in back - EJ in the middle because of how small she was - and the Italian woman went to drive. Once they were all in, no time was spared to ensure that they could buckle up - the car was already moving, taking to Vitus''s streets and beginning to make its way towards wherever this ''convent'' was located. The three women in the back were absolutely silent as they took in the interior of the vehicle, and even the rearview reflection of their chaperones - they paid little attention to the little tidbits and panels wherein hidden tech seemed to be stashed. Luca openly carried a machine pistol in his cupholder.


    Allowed to look inwardly, and focus on her own thoughts, only one thing still pressed at Esthrielle''s mind: Why was Luca here? What about Venezia? What about il Doge? Questions for later, she was sure... But how long was later?

 Act Three (Ch. 46) - A Beautiful Interlude: Tears of a King

    -Two and a half years ago, in a distant corner of Italy-


    In the halls of Venice, far from Vitus and its living dead, a new death came to pass.


    Il Doge, in his old age, had been feeling this coming on for years. Countless, hateful years, feeling his body become weak, his once-acute mental faculties wither away. Why had it come to this? All his life, he had felt cursed - cursed to live in the here and now, far distant from Italy''s treasured, storied past... Cursed to live in a world where cruelty was endorsed, and pain and violence were the only languages that could truly cross the barrier of culture. In the West, and the Far North, and even the South, few could understand his mother tongue. Everyone, however, could parse the meaning of a baton to the teeth.


    As he sat upon his litter, frail form concealing the integrated machinery which helped him live, he thought of Luca. His son. In many ways, Luca reminded the doge of himself: he was perceptive, full of the vigor of youth but the caution to not exert it too forcefully, and he was wise beyond his time. A sigh rattled from the old man''s throat at the final point - this world would make that of a man, make him less of a man, and more of a machine, even from an early age. At this point it was surprising how literal that may be.


    The doge had always eschewed the augmentations so popular with other feudal powers. It was against the will of God, to modify oneself with metal and rubber, silicone and plastic. Man was made in God''s image - even those whose ideals may go against traditional Catholic views, they were still the children of God, and perfect by design. His allies didn''t see that, or if they did, they purposefully ignored it: opening themselves up and tearing free beautiful flesh made with His grace and divinity, and replacing it with the cold product of the Earth.


    His Luca, too, had been altered, though not by choice. When Luca had been young, he had been a pariah, his parents secularists in a non-secular land, killed in an act of arson by unknown perpetrators. Luca, too, had nearly died, and much of his organic body was ruined as a result - to give him a chance to live a full life, and know the joys of this world, he had needed extensive augmentation.


    Skin shorn away, never to return; natural musculature replaced with polymer prosthesis; lungs ruined by the flame''s breath cast off to make room for new, artificial replacements. While he was open, they took more from him still, and gave in turn - most of his natural organs were entirely removed simply for convenience, and so he was allowed to enter a new life, one of synthetic perfection, far from God''s initial grace. He had been perfect in one way, and had become perfect in another.


    The doge had taken him in, then - a show of love for one whose fate had been most cruel. Even now, the doge couldn''t deny that it had been, at first, a political move meant to show his subjects just how caring and benevolent he could be. Nowadays, however, he wished that Luca had died in that fire - not out of hatred, but out of love. If he had died in flames, he could be with his true parentage, both natural and deific. The doge had no doubt that Luca would have been safer with the Lord than he would be on this pitiful earth.


    And so Luca grew, prosthesis replaced every few years to allow for a more natural approximation of growth, all of the costs fronted by the doge. He became a fine man, a beautiful man, a powerful man - spiritually and physically, strategically and ethically. Luca''s heart, though made of the blood of the planet''s depths, was full of love and benevolence for all around him. The doge had always feared that his son would grow into a tyrant, like those heirs of other feudal powers, abusing their subjects for simple self-gratification; he was calmed and thankful that the boy had grown better than that.


    Now, he thought, Luca was a more than apt successor. He was benevolent in a way that few were, and truly cared for the people of Italy - even that girl he had brought for the crusade, Esthrielle, had been the lowest of the low, and yet Luca saw greatness in her. He was always like that, looking for the best in those around him, and in that way, the doge was jealous of him. He hadn''t been raised as il doge had... He had been allowed to foster that kindheartedness within him.


    A pain shot through the wizened bureaucrat''s chest, and forced him to fold over on his throne. Oh, it was coming... coming soon, very soon. Il doge knew it, despite what his personal doctors said: the cancers in his body, borne from the byproducts of industry and a life of luxury, were too far progressed for even ERFS surgeons to remove. In a way, il doge had been anticipating it eagerly - to die, to return to His kingdom, to meet the Lord face-to-face.


    To let Luca truly come into his own, and bless Venezia with his guidance.


    This would be the end of the doge''s line, when his death came to pass. He had told everyone, Luca included, that he was giving the boy gene-infusions so that he would be able to continue his adoptive father''s lineage... But the truth was that they were placebo. Simply falsified procedures, performative in their entirety, meant to instill trust in his spiritual heir - by having the doge''s blood, surely it was Luca''s divine right to lead, was it not?


    The pain came shooting again, lightning arcing its way haphazardly down the fibres of an old and venerable oak. His organs, kept functioning only through a constant infusion of various medicines, were beginning to truly fade despite everything. That was good. He would die here, in his beloved Venezia, a natural death.


    A button was pressed on the small remote he kept hidden within his robes - a call for his son, for Luca. It took mere moments for the tall, tanned heir to appear, his olive skin aglow with artificial health and robustness to shame the doge''s own pallid tone. Luca rushed to his father''s throne, eyes sad but mouth smiling; he knew what was coming just as much as his father did.


    "Yes, father? Do you need me to adjust you in your seat? Bring you something to eat? Call for the house musicians to serenade you?" Luca''s dulcet tones rolled through the air, creamy and warm like the finest espresso, with just a hint of real milk. Even hearing his son''s voice helped the aged noble''s pain fade, if but for a moment, and set a smile upon his weary face. Tears came, slowly but surely, as if his very body had forgotten how to cry.


    "Luca, my son... My beloved, blessed son... You are intelligent. You always have been. You know I am dying, though we have never conversed on such topics before. You know, too, that I wish it - I wish to die, to be done with this Hell of mankind''s design, to return home to our heavenly Father..." He began to continue, but was cut short by a sudden fit of coughing. Luca''s smile never wavered, and in his heart, il doge knew it wasn''t for Luca''s own benefit that his smile held fast. In his heart, he was crying, but such emotion would spoil these last moments.


    The doge began again, managing the strength to prop himself pathetically in his litter. "I fear that time may come soon, very soon. I wish to gaze upon the city one last time, and hold my son''s hand. I wish to meet the dawn as I first did, so many years ago. It has been so long since I have stood... I wish to stand, one final time, and greet Saint Peter as a friend." His desperate smile widened, faltering only for a moment as the agony of death returned again, his torso  wracked with spikes of sudden pain.


    Luca said nothing, but he simply nodded. His hands went to lift his father from under the arms, gentle to not damage him in any way, the heir''s mechanized form easily drawing his kin from the throne. The sound of cords coming unplugged and jacks clattering to the wooden seat of the litter came beneath the distant echo of bells. Dawn was coming, or frankly, already here - and with it, the great bells sang out not a dirge, but a revel.


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    The doge''s feet were unsteady as they tread upon the ground for the first time in decades, his body easily held aloft and upright by Luca as they headed towards the balcony. Below, so early in the day, the city''s main plaza was empty - it was simply the two of them, looking out over the city, basking in the light of the sun.


    The entire city of Venice had undergone great renovations since the formation of the ERFS. To reclaim cultural heritage, and in an effort to solidify pride in one''s own home nation, the old structures of steel and polymer had been torn down - and then, new structures of traditional styles had been constructed in their place, all across the ERFS. Without the cultural and economic influence of much of Asia and the entirety of the UNAC, the ERFS had taken great strides to attempt to rebuild cultural identity, and restore lands and rights to their native peoples.


    And so, Venice itself was lovely to gaze upon, for none moreso than its leader. Modern brickwork was laid in time-honored designs as far as the eye could see, in vibrant colours, reds and whites and yellows and browns and oranges, auburn shingles laid atop them. And between the rows of buildings and cobbled streets, the canals of old were as blue as they had ever been, the water restored to its former glory after centuries of global pollution. Venice was beautiful this morning.


    Luca held his father''s hand with one hand and his shoulder with the other, turning his frail form so they could share a final embrace. Only now did Luca allow himself to cry, and his tears were hot and steady, a stream of sorrow deeper than words could describe. His father felt them fall upon the robe he had been dressed in, but it mattered not - it was good to know that Luca felt this sorrow, even after all his time on this cruel earth, and it was a comfort that of all the times Luca could have cried, this final time was for him.


    They turned then, as the hug ended, to meet the sun. Its warm orange glow gave the land a comforting glow, and in many ways, it was exactly what the doge had needed to see a final time. Pictures and video feeds could never do such things justice. And so, then, it was his time to go - Saint Peter called for him, one more time, and the seasoned ruler let himself be taken to those pearly gates. Luca wept openly as he felt his father go limp.


    -


    From then on, Luca was the leader of Venezia, and while his love for his father lingered in many ways, the two did not see ruling in the same way. The new doge of Venice, Luca Esippardi, set about making the changes he saw fit. No longer would his rule be so absolute - a great number of bureaucrats were drawn up from the lower classes, instructed to set about matters of land and state, tearing down the institutions of old that had brought their civilization to the regressive system of peasantry and nobility it had become.


    True, they couldn''t dismantle it completely - none would agree to this, save the lowest of the low, and it would be seen as weakness byfrom other feudal powers in the region. But social welfare was bolstered tenfold, with the assistance of the church, and many such structures were set in place to allow the poor and downtrodden of Venice to flourish despite their birth. The economy flourished at this, despite grumbling from the upper-classes - schools were filled, homes were inhabited, labour and pay increased dramatically, and it seemed that Venice was entering a golden age of sorts.


    However, in his time alone, Luca thought little of Venice. His mind drifted often across the ocean, to the UNAC; specifically, to Vitus. A city of the dead... An entire city-state in its own right, almost entirely devoid of the love and light of God, shorn from His grace by man''s designs. He sympathized with il Papa in many ways as to the necessity of a crusade against the wicked in that distant land, those who would steal God''s children from Him... But mindless slaughter of the victims and the perpetrators alike was not the answer.


    He thought, too, of Esthrielle. He had loved Esthrielle since the first moment he laid eyes upon her - not a romantic love, not the desire a man holds for a woman, but the love of a kindred spirit. Where he had been too occupied with his duties to go, she had gone in his stead, as his champion... and now, where was she? How was she holding up, in the face of such sin and degeneracy? Was she even still alive?


    The questions ate away at him as rats ate upon the dead, and in time, his mind was made up: he would visit her to see it all for himself, to speak with the people that the church had told them to hate, to once again hold his friend in his arms. He was not a violent man, but he would make war personally, if only to see if such war was worth the pain.


    It was not hard to find passage to the West: despite their hatred for one another, the occasional shipping vessel still made the journey from East to West and vice versa. Immigration and tourism still existed, too, albeit in extremely limited numbers from both sides, and so it wouldn''t have been too odd for him to arrive with a vehicle and some personal possessions... Or so he assumed. In truth, from the moment he set foot in the southern UNAC, he was immediately singled out as an outsider.


    But still, despite initial difficulties, he made his way northward - the funds of a noble are without peer, except perhaps among the megacorporate entities of the West, and so Luca''s trek was softened by luxury. Finally, he arrived in Vitus - disgusted by what he saw, and disheartened by the poor excuse for life that the people here suffered. He made his way quickly to the convent that Esthrielle had been assigned to, now more eager than ever before to see her in the flesh.


    Luca exited his vehicle, a long, sleek black vessel made with vestiges of a hearse, to help him blend in. There was also a certain poetry to himself and his compatriots using that made to carry the dead to get around this city of the dead. The convent itself was extensive, located in the heart of Vitus yet concealed ingeniously, and as he parked and walked in, it took little more than a look from those within to recognize him and rush to greet him.


    Esthrielle was not among them.


    The mother abbess informed him, trepidation clear in her voice for fear of retaliation from someone so important, that Esthrielle had been missing for nearly a week. She had fallen in with some of the locals, and was doing reconnaissance, or so she said. In truth, they had their doubts, especially after she had made known that she was feeling some sympathy for the damned who inhabited this blighted metropolis. Sympathizing was the first step to defection, after all, though the mother abbess was tactful enough to not say that aloud.


    Of course, this answer poorly suited Luca - his face never wavered in its gentle smile, but worry was painted within his mind. Est was, of course, emotionally-inclined. She had always been docile and loyal to Venezia during her years of training and acclimation, but now, a foreigner in a foreign land, her heart bared to strangers who may lead her astray? Hearing that she felt sympathy to the commoners here was reassuring, in some ways, but overall it set Luca ill at ease.


    "So, where is she? I will go speak to her myself. I will ensure her loyalty and safety. She will listen to me, no matter what." Luca''s voice transmitted through the minds of all nearby Waywards, lips unmoving, but internalized emitters projecting his words directly into the Knights'' augmented grey matter. The mother abbess looked nervous, but gestured to another Knight, and a small device was procured.


    "This will locate her, your lordship. She''s kept her tracker on, and so she won''t be hard to get to, but... Should someone of your stature not remain here, in safety? Let one of us go, I beseech thee, if only so that your noble hands need not lift a finger to secure your ward..." The mother abbess''s own transmission was weaker and less robust, but it was still clear and audible. Luca raised a hand to gesture away any further thoughts she may have on the matter.


    "No. I will go, and only bring a driver to accompany me. Before I became a doge, I was a warrior - I have felt the warmth of a firearm in my hand, the touch of a mechanized raiment upon my flesh, and the hum of a blessed silver blade in my grip. I need no effort made in my stead; I would not have ventured here if I needed such things." He nodded solemnly, and every nun in the building nodded in response, each of them silently scuttling off to try and look busy.


    Only one, a woman of frosty pallor and hair so blonde as to be nearly white, remained. She stepped forth, her traditional habit replaced with the slender mechanized raiment of a Knight, a helmet in her hands. She inclined herself in a deep momentary bow, and then, boldly, spoke aloud. "I am Angelien Van''t Heghtyck. I volunteer to be your driver, and if it comes to it, your sister in arms. We may go when you are prepared."


    Luca''s solemn expression broke into a wide grin, lips curling upwards at the edges, down at this bold, serious woman. The guts it took to speak aloud to a member of nobility were admirable, and she seemed serious and driven... And so, Luca thought, who better to trust than a woman so determined to prove herself? He simply nodded, and beckoned for her to follow. They were going to bring Esthrielle back, and then, who knew? Maybe he would stay, he thought to himself as they donned their trench coats and began to make their way to the vehicle.


    Once inside, no small talk was made, but the silence was preferable. It allowed them both to think about what their goals were for the evening. They weren''t as different as the two may have believed.

 Act Three (Ch. 47) - Lucky Charm; or, Privileged Few

    The drive was certainly an experience for the five of them. Long, silent, and some abysmal mixture of uneasy and comforting. Sure, in many ways, they were in the jaws of the enemy... Allowing themselves to be whisked away to an unknown stronghold, full of people who held beliefs that it would be merciful to call extremist. People who EJ had always believed, ever since she was pulled from the cold-wombs, would murder her with the same care one uses when taking out the trash. In a way, to the Waywards, killing the second-living was taking out the trash.


    And yet, here she was, sitting in the back row of a vehicle ironically crafted to resemble a hearse, going along willingly with this sham of a plan. Walking of her own accord into the lion''s den, at least figuratively. She could barely believe her own audacity. Telling Luca she''d divulge Tsang secrets to him? Tsang secrets she wasn''t even sure if she had? Sure, he seemed nice, and Est trusted him implicitly... But what was his angle, what was his game?


    Purity shifted in her seat, slipping an arm behind EJ''s back to rest a palm on Esthrielle''s back. The pale-haired cyborg looked over, but Purity was buried in her phone - sending a text one-handed, and then another, and another. Seemed important, so far as either of the other women could tell, but what could she be doing? Oh, duh. Texting Kell, letting her know they were... indisposed, but safe. Probably a solid idea.


    Hearing that they were safe from Purity as opposed to Est or EJ would be the best option, anyways, thought the ghoulette. She instinctively patted herself down, realizing once again that her phone was missing, and cursing under her breath when it continued to evade her. Probably at Judas''s, like she had earlier figured... But it didn''t hurt to check, right? Right? Well, whatever. She didn''t need that thing anyways.


    What had it ever given her? Porn? She had had more sex in the last two weeks than in her entire life, and after some of it, she wasn''t sure she needed more sexual stimulus any time soon. Anime? There was no time to sit and watch anything right now, and she wasn''t in the mood, anyways. Music? The same as the anime. Memories?


    She thought on that for a moment, letting her body lean into Purity''s as Angelien made a long, forceful turn. Fuck, memories weren''t something she could easily come by again once lost. Sure, she could do with losing the past three decades of employment and not care... Thirty birthdays down the drain... But her parents'' phone numbers? Her notes of old friends'' preferences and distastes? Her fucking mobile games that she had played for so long that they felt like a part of her now?


    A downturn to Esper James'' emotions came like a sudden storm, one far heavier than she had anticipated. Those things were things she couldn''t replace. The photos of her family alone were worth their weight in gold, and while she had been finding herself in a new family of sorts, her parents had never wronged her, and they still meant something to the blonde. So far from here, all the way back in Nova Scotia... Back in the Maritimes, probably still able to eat poutine the intended way. Still alive, despite it all.


    She had told them about Vitus, of course, and everyone in the UNAC knew of the second-living, but EJ had tried so hard to sell them on moving. Tried to get them to come here... Get revived, live forever, exist in a way they''d never lose her. A way she''d never lose them. But they had resisted her at every turn, telling her they wanted to die where they had lived all their lives, that they were proud of her for the life she had made for herself but didn''t want to become undead like her. Told her they wanted to stay as they were, where they were.


    Of course, these letters - yes, they still sent letters - had cut like blades into EJ''s tender heart. After she had been forced into undeath, thrust into this world of flesh and little black pills and nocturnal life... To hear them reject it? To hear that her parents thought it would be better to live and die a true life and true death, away from this city of living death? Away from everything she had dedicated her first and second lives to?


    Even now it brought tears to EJ''s eyes, and she hunched over in her seat in a pitiful attempt to hug herself. A single sob broke the semi-silence, and in an instant, a pair of hands were on her thighs in offered comfort. One came from Esthrielle, right beside her, the owner of said hand leaning herself down and squishing over to offer the security of bodily warmth to the blonde. The other came from the shotgun seat - from Luca, his hand and gaze offered with a sad, sympathetic smile.


    Luca spoke up when no one else could bring themselves to, EJ''s watery eyes still locked down upon the carpeted floor of the vehicle. "Ah, little one... Again, I promise you, that no harm shall come to you. We will ask you some questions, speak with you about the city, and then release you. I am sure the mother abbess can organize a meal to be made to fit your... tastes, as well. Please, no tears." While he didn''t know the true reason for the ghoulette''s sadness, his words still soothed - EJ felt herself calming just from listening to him, and the shared closeness of the four of them helped her steady herself.


    She nodded then, blonde locks shaking gently as her head bobbed; her back straightened slowly, and while her arms remained about herself, she seemed more stable than before. Luca''s smile turned brighter, and he gave her a nod before returning his gaze to the road. It was Est''s turn, then, to offer some further comfort - Purity was already holding EJ, and couldn''t do much more for her, so it was up to the other Italian.


    Esthrielle leaned over further as EJ straightened herself, her face coming close to EJ''s own, and for a moment, hesitation gripped her. Her breath was warm against the ghoul''s cheek, the heat of life permeating every minute rush of air; EJ began to turn her head to Est, but when she did, Est made her move. Just a sliver of distance, no more than three inches in distance, and connection was made: sweet, supple connection, the warrior''s thin lips pressing awkwardly but genuinely upon the second-living''s flesh.


    There wasn''t much Esthrielle and Esper James hadn''t done together at that point - willingly or at figurative gunpoint. The entire spectrum, from handholding to outright sex, and yet... There was something new, something unfamiliar and indescribable about the gesture. Esper James gasped aloud, but didn''t make to pull away - and, after casting a glance to a now-smirking Purity, she allowed it to linger there.


    Esthrielle let it linger, too. She shut her eyes, the gentle smack of a completed kiss coming out timidly, barely audible above the sound of the vehicle''s motion from outside. After the first, another one, more confident - more assured that it was okay to do, that it would be fine to get one more. EJ''s tears were still wet upon her face, but no new ones were coming since Luca''s reassurance - and in their place, a wide, bashful smile was forming, edges of her lips curling up, broad fangs displayed for all to see.


    In the rearview mirror, Luca''s own grin was as ivory and charming as ever. He winked back at Purity as she locked eyes with him in the reflection, then returning his gaze to the road. Purity simply gave a single muted chuckle and used her extended arm to pull the other two closer. There was nothing needful or jealous about the gesture; it wasn''t performed to ward them away from their gentle, innocent affection, nor was it meant to steal one from the other.


    When Est had finished kissing EJ''s cheek, EJ turned her head to look at the white-haired woman at her side, only to find her looking at her feet with a notably new shade to her face. Her lip trembled as though there were a great many words each seeking to spill forth at once, and yet nothing came out - and so Esper James took the discarded initiative, pulling Esthrielle just that much closer. Their bodies touched, and in that moment, an impromptu group-embrace was formed.


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    Esper James spoke then, softly in tone but audible enough that Luca and Angelien could hear her. "Est... Esthrielle. I''m so sorry you got roped in with us in this nightmare. I promise, we''re... We''re gonna do everything we can to fix things for all of us, and then you can, I dunno... Go back to Italy with Luca, I guess. Go wherever you''re happy." She gave Esthrielle a squeeze, and now it was Est''s turn to weep.


    A single sob broke the silence, and this time, no one said anything. They allowed her to have a moment with her own emotions, to contemplate the turmoil of a boundless, wayward heart. EJ laid her hand upon the one Est had on her thigh, and in a gentle motion, took the other woman''s in her own. Est sobbed again, and the floodgates were completely rent asunder - sob after sob, soft at first but growing in intensity and volume, began to pour forth. Angelien removed a hand from the wheel to go turn the music up, hoping to drown out Est''s sorrow with the sounds of violin - Luca tenderly pushed her hand away.


    The rest of the drive was more somber, and in the same breath, more welcoming. It felt safer inside that vehicle than the three women in the back had felt in myriad days, the grief of their ordeal outweighed in this moment by the serenity of a moving vehicle, clean bodies, clean upholstery, and the presence of those who promised to protect them. Esthrielle settled herself into EJ''s arms, and EJ in turn into Purity''s, and the trio remained that way for the remaining duration of the drive. Finally, they arrived in the outskirts of Vitus, a desolate place riddled with derelict buildings and the burnt-out remnants of machinery.


    Sure, Vitus was still growing even all these years after its initial conception and boom, but not every stretch grew the same. This stretch of once-hopeful cityscape was home now to little more than vagrants, rats, and dust. However, as the car swung around a corner and pulled itself into the sub-level parking garage of what seemed to be an abandoned medical complex, things began to change. Subtly at first, but more noticeable as they continued to line up: a lack of dust, tire tracks that seemed too fresh for the location, security cameras that still turned despite an apparent lack of function all told the truth of this place.


    As the car reached a wall at the far end of the parking garage, it stopped - but neither Luca nor Angelien moved. Seconds passed like so many drops of rain in a thunderstorm, splashing down upon the occupants of the pseudo-hearse, until finally there was a loud hiss as hydraulics set into motion. Pneumatic pistons hidden within the brickwork of the wall drew a sizable chunk of it aside, making room for the vehicle to drive straight in, the other side of the false wall now revealing a smaller but far more pristine lot where two other identical sedans sat.


    There was a woman in a nun''s habit there, standing near a human-sized door set into the far wall. She had blonde hair and brown eyes, her hair almost completely hidden by her headpiece, but just enough of her bangs showing to determine the color - and thankfully, she was staring straight at the vehicle as it pulled in, so she was easy to observe. In her right hand, held close to her waist, was a machine pistol similar to Luca''s.


    Angelien pulled them in flawlessly beside one of the other vehicles, parked at a perfect parallel with mechanized precision. She turned her head to the nun outside, who bowed after a few moments of prolonged silence, then turning back to run through the door behind her. Luca nodded after a few more seconds of tranquil stillness, and began to address the women in the back of the car.


    "Alright. Heike is going to go inform the rest of the convent that we are here, and begin preparations for dinner. I sincerely hope lamb is to your tastes, EJ." The way he said EJ was strange, stilted in a way as if he didn''t normally move his mouth at all, and saying a shorthand name like EJ was anathema. But, still, he powered through it, and that was good enough for the blonde in the back seat. The blonde in the front seat, however, couldn''t help but smirk at her lordship''s inflection.


    EJ nodded rapidly at the mention of lamb, her mouth already watering. Lamb? Fucking lamb? And since these were Easterners, old-world types, it was probably real lamb fresh from a farm out of town, or at least a few weeks frozen. That would be such an upgrade from what she had been eating these past however-many-days with Kell and Est and Purity that the idea of fresh-ish meat punched her in the gut with how badly it made her carnivorous inclinations flare. She had to set her jaw to restrain herself from just taking a chunk of Purity in her teeth.


    Once the inclination had passed, she chanced opening her maw to speak. "That sounds lovely, Luca, I''m delighted to hear that you''d have me for dinner at all. It''s a great honor to even be here right now." A great honor to be here as opposed to a splatter of greyish-black flesh and blood smeared on the pavement, she thought to herself, but she doubted Luca liked that kind of honest humor.


    Luca gave her an affirmative gesture with his hand and head, nodded and tilting his wrist. "But of course. You are our guest here tonight. Esthrielle tells me you are not opposed to alcohol? I should hope not, we will be having red wine." Esper James nearly broke her docile posture at that, the humor of it stabbing between her ribs like a hitman''s blade. Oh, of course the Catholics were having red wine with their dinner of lamb. The symbolism was so rich as to probably just be how they normally did things, and they didn''t even realize how funny it was.


    She cleared her throat to free herself of mirth before giving him a thumbs up, faking a few more coughs to make it seem like she couldn''t answer verbally. Luca chuckled, undoing his seatbelt and climbing up and out of the vehicle. The women followed suit, with Angelien pushing herself out of the driver''s seat only once the trio of ladies in the back seat had exited first. Once they were all out, the car''s lights flashed twice, and its horn chirped in repetition to indicate it was locked. Angelien was still smirking, mischief in her eyes despite an absence of words on her lips, though Luca took it upon himself to say what he was thinking aloud.


    "Alright, now, right through this door and we will introduce you to the mother abbess. She is in charge here, not me, though I will do my best to ensure she treats you all well. As well, it seems you could all use some new clothes - that can be arranged. Come, come, inside." He gestured them all towards the door, and once again, the lot of them did as they were told - filing in through the lone door in the garage, each eager to be within the convent for their own reasons.


    For Purity, it was the promise of newer, fresher clothing. For Est, it was seeing her comrades again, even if they were meeting under strange terms. And for Esper James, finally, it was the meat that had been offered. She had had altogether too much wine when she last saw Judas, so that didn''t tantalize her, but she thought back to the feeling of ripping through that Tsang officer''s musculature with nothing but her teeth.


    It had been euphoric. Terrifying, repulsive, vile, guilt-inducing... But euphoric nonetheless. She had never tasted a meat that remained so ingrained into her mind as that. Frankly, she wasn''t even sure there was a steak in the world that could compare, but some delicious lamb cooked by a nunnery composed entirely of trained killers was still pretty tempting.


    Oh, shit. This better not awaken anything inside of me, she thought.

 Act Three (Ch. 48) - Engelsblut; or, Pillars Away from Light

    Being inside the convent itself struck all three women - Angelien exempt, of course - in a differing, but deeply emotional, way. For Esper James, it was like being back at Tsang: the sleekness of the masonry, the lavish rugs that ran down every hallway, the uniformity of everything that seemed simultaneously at odds and in perfect harmony with the obvious expense that every nook and cranny held. Flashbacks came in rapid repetition, the supposedly hallowed halls of this hidden sanctuary feeling all too similar to the halls of Tsang HQ. EJ''s emerald eyes shot over to Angelien, a nervous sweat coming to her brow as she mentally equated the blonde woman to a certain tall, domineering vampire.


    The association was involuntary, but still, it had Esper James bearing herself in a way that was undeniably meek by comparison to her early countenance. Purity, by comparison, was rigid. She, too, thought of Tsang... but whereas EJ had been at the height of the compound, walking those gilded halls each and every weekday evening, Purity''s reminisce was tinged with a different sort of experience. Deeper in the complex than Esper James even knew existed, much less ventured - the sterile, fluorescent-lit hallways of the R&D department. Disgust welled in Purity''s throat along with acrid bile, her heart a ghost of itself made of a sort of anxiety that was only drawn out by agonies relived.


    She pulled Esper James to herself as they walked, her whole body tense from the oppression of memory. EJ didn''t even look up at her, simply leaning into her lover to share a moment of comfort and solidarity that they both desperately needed. The warmth of physical connection dissuaded some of the discomfort reverie provided, but not enough to completely calm the two. Unlike the blonde and pinkette, however, Esthrielle was enthralled by the sights of the place. Heavy walls of dark stonework, slightly bluish in appearance... Stained glass imitation-windows, given the illusion of an external sun by expertly placed lights on the other side... The smell of myrrh in the air from censers hanging off the walls... And the light of candles set into niches in the walls, each surrounding illuminated saintly icons. It felt to her more like home than anywhere else in Vitus had even come close to.


    She was transported back three years, back to the convent she had been trained in. The prosthetic limbs and augmented neural pathways implanted artificial muscle memory and ability, it was true, but one still needed to know when it was appropriate to implement them - this had led Esthrielle to a year-long training regimen with the fellow Knights whose convent she had been assigned to. It was grueling, of course: while false muscle never grew tired, the mortal mind itself waned weary whenever exertion was concerned, if only from the intensity of thought necessitated by preparing for life-or-death combat.


    She had trained so long and so very hard, so desperately... Trying to be everything she was meant to be. For Luca, for her father, and for herself, in many ways. She had felt she was finally given a purpose on this earth: to do as she was told, to follow the light of some distant God, to kill in His name. It was fulfilling, really, to be picked up out of destitution and misery and thrust forth into a world of lavish excess in the name of a creator deity who you were told loved you and wanted you to succeed. Even outside of training, she had spent countless hours poring over scripture, learning hymns, offering devotion to the Lord...


    And it had brought her joy. Great joy, and a sense of purpose unparalleled. It had brought her to meet interesting people, see interesting places, learn interesting things; if it was God''s plan for her to be here, then she had the utmost faith in her creator. A broad smile came upon her as she considered it all, staying close to Luca but not too distant from EJ and Purity. In fact, her mental focus shifted to those two, not for the first time tonight. They had been kinder than she had ever expected denizens of Vitus to be, and while Esper James had gotten her into some situations she''d never wish to relive, she had also shown real, genuine compassion.


    The quintet paced through the halls for a time, then, passing multiple doors of heavy wooden make. The scent of myrrh and frankincense began to dull in their senses by time they finally came to a door, no different than the others, that Luca stopped them at. He raised his left hand, palm out and fingers together - a motion to halt. Whatever their destination was, they had arrived. Angelien went to open the door without a word, and once it was swung wide, a comfy-looking dorm room was revealed. Two sets of bunks sat across from one another like a college dorm room; in the middle, two pairs of hardwood chairs were placed near a similarly-made table. Tea had already been prepared by some unseen assistant, and four cups were placed at the center of the arrangement.


    Tapestries hung from the walls, and a smaller, doorless archway seemed to lead into a bathroom. There were wardrobes, one for each bunk pair, that were doubtlessly filled with nun''s habits. Or armor. Who could say without inspecting further? But that would have to wait - Luca gestured the two guests and their white-haired chaperone into the room, and Angelien offered up a curt bow to the noble before turning about on her heel and exiting. Luca shut the door gingerly, taking the initiative to sit down, beckoning his guests to follow suit. They weren''t foolish enough to refuse.


    He cleared his throat, a voice so velveteen yet unfamiliar with use pouring forth once he had done so. "So, ladies. Esper James. Purity. My dearest Est... The tea on the table is a chai affair. Very easy to acquire here, much easier than home... Though I prefer coffee. Anyhow, please... Be at rest. Be welcomed. I see you are tense - I would like to emphasize your safety here. You are under my protection." Est''s eyes widened at that, and she looked over at the other two women. They didn''t know how much weight such a claim bore - that anything that happened to the three of them would be taken as Luca''s responsibility.


    Purity nodded promptly, a bit awkward yet, and Esper James did the same. She was a bit more graceful in her motions - she had spent the past however-many-decades kissing ass with some of the most powerful people in Vitus, mostly Judas, but still. She had learned, she would like to think, how to please those who were plenty used to getting their respective egos stroked. Luca seemed, to her, like he had been made plenty accustomed to such treatment... The way his mere presence seemed to make Est, Angelien, and even that nun in the garage become more attentive.


    "Thank you, Luca... We''re really grateful, I assure you. It isn''t often that someone vouches for people like us in Vitus, so it means a lot that you would." EJ nodded once more to drive the statement home, and Luca''s smile was momentarily interrupted before it returned with a raised brow in tow. The noble leaned forward and propped himself up with one arm on the table, his own deep amber-gold eyes locking with Esper James''s. "Oh? People like you? But, I had heard much of the kinship that the..." He struggled momentarily for the word, and turned his gaze nearly sheepishly to Est for the answer.


    Her gaze locked with his, and he gave a short nod of affirmation before turning back to the blonde. "...the second-living share. Have I been led astray?" Esthrielle took this moment to turn away, the tips of her ears reddening as best as they were allowed. Purity''s face twitched at Luca''s words, but she said nothing - it wasn''t her place to respond, it was EJ''s. EJ returned Luca''s probing with a simple barb, though one inoffensive enough as to not truly risk offending him. "I mean poor people, Luca. Unfortunates. The lower-class. I may be second-living, but by no means do my old coworkers feel any bond with me..."


    Luca nodded, his smile diminishing sympathetically. He dared not lay a hand upon the blonde, but when he leaned back in his chair, the hand which had once propped him up on the table now went to Est''s thigh to give her a concerned squeeze. He continued after a few moments of letting EJ''s response hang in the air like heady smoke, line of sight now directed to Purity. "And you, Miss Purity, how did you and Esper James meet? Intel suggests that humans and the second-living don''t usually mingle; I assume she really caught your eye, then?" The implication was harmless enough - that EJ was cute enough to become a coffin-jockey for - but Purity''s expression only drifted towards mirth in a sarcastic sense.


    "Oh, Tsang was whoring me out to help further their research. Literally. Picked EJ up at the club and brought her home, but... I kinda found that she and I had genuine chemistry, not just whatever the fuck people have with eachother in the heat of the dance floor." Purity''s matter-of-fact tone did anything but detract from the seriousness of her statement, and all at the table were varying intensities of shocked by the proclamation. EJ''s eyes widened and then became sad; she gave her lover''s hand a ginger, concerned squeeze. Est''s whole body tensed up and her figurative hackles raised immediately, eyes shooting over to gauge Luca''s reaction.


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    Luca, in turn, let his expression soften to one of sympathy and concern - and, it could be argued, pity. He took a deep breath, seeming to be processing what Purity had told him - Purity, in response, took her own cup of tea and sipped from it. She added a cube of sugar after she swallowed. "Purity... I am deeply aggrieved to hear that. It only adds to my distaste for Tsang, of course, but... I would rather that such justification for my people''s actions did not come at such a price." He took his own tea cup and sipped at it in turn - he didn''t even look over to Esthrielle, though something attested to his awareness of the Wayward''s thoughts on this subject.


    Purity shrugged. It was in the past now - or at least, that''s how she was trying to approach it. Besides, she didn''t want to give Luca the satisfaction of seeing her show more emotion than was necessary. Luca''s expression faded slightly, returning a few steps towards neutral, though never fully relieving itself of that dismay at being given such unfortunate news. He sipped his tea in silence, and one by one, the women at the table followed suit.


    The tea was good, to be blunt. Nice quality, with notes of vanilla and baking spices, carried over to a lingering sweetness by the sugar each added. Est, notably, didn''t take hers with any sugar - but no one said anything about it. More sugar for them. Esper James took hers with extra sugar, which nearly made Purity break her stoic facade, but a gentle nudge of affection from Puri''s leg to EJ''s was enough to convey the message.


    Luca began again once they had all imbibed a few sips of the tea, clearing his throat before he spoke. "Anyways... Ladies, Purity and Esper James, I will let you familiarize yourselves with the room. Please, don''t head out of it without a chaperone - Esthrielle will do fine in that regard, but I would ask that you respect our home and not wander too far from the accommodations. After all, we have need to discuss some things with you. Esper James, a few brief questions before I go, if you would be so kind?" He cocked his head ever so slightly to the side, the motion alone making him seem more human than the inhuman perfection of his visage may imply. It evoked a mental image of a curious hound.


    EJ nodded, taking another sip of her tea. "Of course, Luca. I would be more than happy to answer any questions you may have. What was on your mind?" Luca drained his teacup in a single pull, allowing the flavor to linger as he allowed it ample time to be tasted. Finally, he folded his hands and leaned back in his chair - the dismay was washed away; his face now painted with serious, almost businesslike import. "We would request that you would allow us some minor tests on you. We have yet to have a willing subject for any such things, and while it may sound daunting, in truth the nature of these tests is for information gathering and nothing more."


    Testing? That sounded kinda fucked up. What kind of ''testing'' would they be doing, she wondered - cutting her open? Extracting her organs? Subjecting her to torture? Sure, Est seemed to trust Luca, and she and Puri had more or less been coerced into doing the same, but... Was he really going to protect them from the rest of the convent? She was doubtful, to be frank. Luca seemed to sense her apprehension, and a smirk broke his placid lips like a fracture in a mirror. "Oh, don''t worry - none of it will hurt. In confidence, I admit: we in what you call the East, we lack a great deal of information as to how people like you are even still conscious. How ''second-living'' works, in the slightest sense."


    He poured himself a new cup of tea, taking a quick swig before continuing on. "What allows you locomotion? What holds your consciousness, your soul, inside a body which should have long ago been interred? Why don''t you age, or rot, or change in any way other than how Tsang wants you to? It is a mystery even to our top scientists, in large part because we have never had the chance to study one such as yourself. I would consider it a great personal favor if you would agree, but if you would rather not, I will not force you to. It isn''t my way to subject guests to any undue cruelty."


    Esthrielle, who had been silent and fairly still until this point, began to nod emphatically. Luca was the nicest man she had ever known... The nicest person in general, frankly. And so, she wanted to try everything she could to convince EJ to go along with it... To get her new friends to get along with the oldest friend she had ever known or held. If she didn''t try at least that much, she would have felt herself failing the doges both new and old - Luca and his father. "EJ, EJ, I promise. I promise it''ll be okay. We already know how to, y''know, fight second-living, so it''s not gonna be weapons testing or anything messed up. Probably just checking how your body works."


    Est''s gaze immediately turned up to Luca, whose smirk bloomed into a great and beautiful smile. He nodded, going to pat Esthrielle on the head like a particularly obedient pup, ruffling her hair a bit as he did. "Yes, Esper James, it is as Esthrielle says. Diagnostics on your physical limitations and capabilities, and, if you would permit, the taking of a small sample of your flesh to try and decipher how your regenerative abilities are possible. There is so much we don''t know... And it is said hatred is born from ignorance. Perhaps knowing you better would help change the hearts and minds of those in the East?"


    That was a devilish thing to say - the implication that world peace may be in EJ''s hands was as daunting as it was tantalizing and unbelievable. How could she, of all people, be the one who could smooth things over? Was it because of Luca being who he was? Was it even possible that he could convince the others in the New Way that the second-living were equals, not untouchables?


    She sighed deeply, body beginning to tremble. She was a reed in a gentle gust, the prelude to a summer storm, but her stalk held fast as she made her decision. "O-Okay... If you think it will help, then I''ll do it. I... I don''t want us to fight anymore, as childish as that may sound. It... It feels senseless, you know? We all want to live." Her voice broke as she finished that last sentence, and her head dropped down, her eyes falling upon her own lap.


    Her own words echoed in her mind for what felt like an eternity. ''We all want to live.'' Was that even true? Sure, she did want to live... at least, she thought she did. She did right now, right in this moment, with Purity and Esthrielle here to comfort her. She wanted nothing more than to live safely and comfortably... To put recent events so far behind her that they may as well have happened to someone else. And yet...


    Just a few days ago, she had wanted to die. And countless times in her tenure with Tsang, she had considered true death. She had thought so much about it... For so long in her life, countless times, she had dreamt of a final sleep. But, she held true to her words - at least, as true as could be ascertained just by looking at her. Purity''s hand slipped into her own and held it tightly, wordlessly offering just what the blonde needed to hear.


    Luca nodded, his long ebon hair barely moving, so weighed down with product - if it was even his actual hair at all. "Thank you. For everyone involved, I thank you. I know this seems... ominous. Threatening. But it is as you say: we all want to live. I would rather cease this senseless, directionless violence. There are those more deserving elsewhere in the city."


    This was something they could agree upon unanimously, everyone in attendance calling to mind the exact same name. Somewhere distant, at the top of a skyscraper more akin to a fortress than a place of business, a single decrepit soul pondered his city - pondered his subordinates, their actions, their goals. It would be a long road to get to him, this ancient evil, thought EJ. She had never seen Tsang himself before... But she had heard the stories, and that was enough.


    Ugh. Her mind drifted then, in that silence, to Kell. Where did she fit into all of this? Where would she and hers end up if anything actually did come of EJ''s meeting with Luca and the Knights? What about Roth? Or even Cinna, whom she had only met briefly? Where did the average citizens of Vitus come into play, the vampires, the ghouls, the zombies, the expies? Surely they would not be unscathed.


    There she went, thinking as if she was a strategist for some great and terrible battle. She''d been playing too many RTS games in her free time: Complete Conflict Warcudgel Four had given her a brainrot that the cold-wombs couldn''t cure. She needed to leave this stuff to people better suited for it... People who thought that way naturally, who were trained to think like that.


    The tea was drained then, and swiftly, too. It was plenty satisfying, and tea was a high enough percentage of water rather than plant material that it didn''t churn the second-living''s stomach. She wondered about that often, about why the second-living could only eat animal products in normal quantities. Why didn''t they suffer deficiencies? Why didn''t they suffer for their inability to get certain vitamins?


    That was what the supplements had been for, of course, but even then... She hadn''t had her supplements in weeks, and felt no ill effects. It was bizarre, to think that the life she had been leading for so long was also almost completely encased in enigma. No one really knew how the second-living worked, or why they did - people just accepted them as a constant, as a fact of life.


    People simply listened to what Tsang told them. Perhaps, with the Waywards'' tests, it could be time to get some answers.

 Act Three (Ch. 50) - Beyond the Realms of Death; or, Die, Die Again

    Panic.


    Panic was the only thing Alex Cheng had on his mind right now.


    The warning lights on his control console flared like the roiling coals left after a bonfire''s apex. In the distance he heard the tell-tale sound of a thermite charge, Tsang Solutions standard. Behind it came the clang of solid metal slamming against the floor.


    Oh God, no. No no no. Whatever she wanted was going to earn him a fate worse than true-death if he allowed himself to get taken. Anything that bitch of a woman wanted, she got, sure... But maybe it was time for her to lose? Maybe it was about time someone stuck it to her? Really spat in her face? He couldn''t help but smile at the thought - it might feel good to fuck her over one last time. He wouldn''t really have a chance to try again, after all.


    The IRE site''s observation room doubled as its saferoom for staff, and while he was the only staff member in the room, that didn''t mean a damn to the normally slick and level-headed vampire. The concrete walls... The bio-locked blast doors... Even the fucking panopticon on the wall, the one that showed every cell, every room, at all hours... They comforted him. They had been a source of security for a long time. What had it been, twenty years?


    And now they''d be his tomb. Great.


    He had been at his desk, doing the usual - chain-smoking disposable vapes and watching comedy specials on his phone - when the call arrived. The front desk administrator had rang him up, sounding oh-so-compliant, and a little bit scared. Alex didn''t blame her for the fear.


    "Erm... Sir, Mr. Cheng, sir, there''s someone from HQ here to see you. Judas Alighieri. She said she needed to, uh, speak with you, and-" And that had been about where Alex cut the call short, so immediately incensed that he threw his phone at a wall to shut her up. Now here, in the present, he was feasting on his last little banquet of mischief before Judas got to him.


    He had walked (sprinted) over to the control console, beginning to pore through the different commands at his disposal. He could lock down every door in the building, shutter every window, trigger every laser-wire that would set the suppression emplacements to activate; hell, he could shut down the fucking ice-cream machine in the canteen if he wanted. The staff canteen. That would''ve been a dick move, though, and he wasn''t trying to piss off anyone but the bitch herself.


    Alex raised black plastic to his lips once more, a trembling hand barely able to keep the stick still while he drew a deep, cherry-and-menthol puff. An application of teeth to hold the mouthpiece helped steel his nerves. The exhale to follow came from his nose, like he was a dragon puffing smoke, and while it burned a bit, it was something he had always wanted to do. It would''ve been significantly improved if he smoked actual cigarettes, or even a cigar, but fuck that - they didn''t make menthol cigars, anyways. And even if they did, he doubted they''d be good.


    Now he wanted to try one. Shit. Focus, Alex, focus. One shot at glory, one shot to make it count. The soon-to-be-ex-IRE site manager grabbed the nearest chair he could grasp, a leather-lined computer chair, and took a seat. The sound of boots was approaching, and with it, more doors falling. They were just down the hall now.


    Click. Screams. Sweet, succulent screams, the screams of a squad of goons who wouldn''t be able to use their lungs anymore. The suppression systems in place were great, he had to admit, but whoever had the fucked-up thought of filling a hallway with aerosolized silver? Well, it was a good thing they only worked domestically, because it was some genuine war crimes shit. Alex couldn''t help but laugh just thinking of it, and the thought was only heightened by the visuals.


    Up on the panopticon, one of its many screens was a nightmare to behold. Five, no, six Tsang corporate security brutess writhing on the ground, screaming in pain and pleading breathlessly for help. Further down the hall, a handful more thugs in black and red regalia clicked filters into their helmets. The bravest of the second group went from man to man as they reached the first group, kicking their helmets off and painting the tiles with their gore. Got his fatigues slick and red for his trouble, but still, it was a mercy to everyone involved.


    Another breaching charge was placed at the next door - two to go after this one, and the suppression elements became even meaner the closer they got. Judas better hope she brought a lot of men, because if not...


    Alex smiled as he considered the slim hope he may actually live.


    No, no, Judas wasn''t that kind of woman - she didn''t underprepare, she prepared exactly as much as she needed. It reminded Alex of a story he had heard about the Great Wall of China. The story went that the architect in charge requisitioned the bricks for it in a single, specific lump-sum, down to the last brick. The emperor, thinking it was impossible for such a thing to be determined down to such precision, told him to order a bit more. Just to be safe, you know? So the architect added a single brick to the order, and when the wall was built, and all was said and done?


    They were left with a single spare brick. Judas was that architect, in Alex''s mind - so used to this violence, this systematic, syndicated savagery, that she knew exactly how many men she''d need at any given moment. He wondered briefly what kind of factors were needed to mold someone into such a monster. What had she gone through, where had she been schooled? Had she had a rough childhood?


    The goons in the hallway were setting up the next bomb, combat boots clopping around on the hard tiled floor, their sound slightly wettened by all the blood they had to stomp through. That wouldn''t be a problem for them soon - if they continued to have legs to stand on, anyways. Click.


    A slot on the wall opened, about three feet up, the slot itself only about two inches tall and wide. From its mouth came a small metal protrusion - it looked like a laser pointer to the outside observer, and that was the sort of dark humor that kept Tsang weapons engineers from jumping into the nearest woodchipper. Another slot, and then another, and then another, slots opening and laser pointer heads appearing all along either side of the wall. The security goons didn''t even hear them over their own comms-chatter.


    The first beam hit the squad leader straight in the pelvis, skewering him from one side of his hips to the other. The scent of cauterized flesh filled the air like the breath of death, and once again, a chorus of screams ripped through the building like the choirs of Hell. The laser pointer projections swept from side-to-side, taking them each at the waist, letting legs and torsos tumble free of one another.


    These guys wouldn''t be in nearly as much pain as their comrades, but without legs, where could they go? Alex laughed aloud now, hitting the site intercom button half-way through just to taunt his aggressors-to-be. The sound of his high-pitched cackling serenaded each agonized soul outside, but like clockwork, the next squad to run the gambit began to shoot out the hallway speakers.


    The lasers switched off. They drank a lot of power, and Tsang considered the death of employees an acceptable loss, so they had an inbuilt uptime-blocker. That was fine. One last hallway, and then the party would really start.


    The third group trudged up to the door with all the enthusiasm of an old-world funeral procession. Funeral was an apt word of choice, Alex figured, seeing how Tsang would probably just let these dollar-store hitmen die rather than pay their medical bills. The next door was breached, and now all that stood between him and his opponents was the final steel blast door.


    Alex was beginning to tire of this game already - he had such a fun surprise planned once they actually got there and confronted him. His blackened blood was pumping thick and hot in nearly-dead veins just thinking about it; in fact, it nearly had him aroused. Thinking of the carnage... Of the chaos... Oh, yes. Just his mental image of Judas''s face as she blew a gasket at his little party trick would make this the finale of a lifetime. A second-lifetime, that was - his first death, a voluntary self-termination in a Tsang medical center, hadn''t been nearly so glamorous.


    The final group placed their charge at the door to Alex''s lair. They swept the hallway once, twice, thrice with their guns, scanning every inch of it for traps. Sadly for them, they didn''t look up - didn''t look into the long fluorescent light set into the ceiling, same as every other hallway subsection, same as the rest of the entire compound. The whole IRE site had lights just like this one, so why would they?


    For the second-to-last time, Alex pressed a button on the console, and leaned back in his chair to watch before the fireworks had even begun. Click. The lighting tubes and thin sheet of glass below them shattered like translucent confetti, joined in their shrapnel hail by a veritable blitz of heavy steel ball bearings. The ball bearings, however, weren''t just dropped - they were projected outwards by a trio of previously-concealed barrels, the guns firing with a din to rival a shipboard cannon. Volley after volley of shotgun-spray assaulted the room below, each barrel holding twelve rounds of fifteen pellets each, the sound of their ejection alone enough to penetrate the blast door''s thickness.


    Stolen story; please report.


    What pellets didn''t penetrate the security officers'' armor instead met their bodies with such force as to shatter bones, gouge flesh, and rupture organs. Unfortunately or fortunately, depending on how one viewed it, far more pellets found purchase in unarmored flesh.


    These men didn''t even have time to scream. The hallway subsection they had been in was now a disgusting crimson swamp, a marsh of flesh and blood, bodies rendered into pulp forming a second, far-squishier flooring for the final group. This group, however, was different - and while Alex had assumed it would come to this, seeing such a prediction bear fruit was both cathartic and dreadful.


    Judas herself led this charge, with only a few heavily-armored retainers at either side of her. She was smiling, and even stopped to kick at the gore on the ground in the wake of the final emplacement. No armor for her... she didn''t need it. Nothing Alex could or would do could hurt her. Physically, at least.


    So when she knocked, so sweetly, so gingerly, Alex flicked the switch to open the blast door and let her in. Her thugs stepped in first, visually sweeping the room; neither of them seemed to give a shit about Alex himself, instead only focused on ensuring there were no further traps. Judas knew there weren''t. She stepped in as confidently as she would a boardroom to discuss a Christmas bonus.


    "Hello, Alex. Lovely welcome you''ve given my boys. Their medical bills are coming out of your paycheck, but, I''m sure you understand..." Judas''s saccharine way of speaking was just as appealing and quick to wound as a candy filled with razor blades.


    Alex felt her presence, that vampiric influence of hers, crash against his own. It was a little mental war, one that played out in both the back- and foreground, much to his disgust. Even now, Judas was so intent on control and dominance that she was trying to mind-game him into submission. He sneered at her, but the sneer became a cocksure smirk as the slender woman closed the distance. She drew up a chair of her own from one of the other consoles in the room, taking a seat only a few feet from her quarry.


    "Well, Alex... I''m here because of your little ''side business''. You know the one. Purity Francharde." She leaned forth, propping herself up on both hands, elbows to her knees like she was speaking with a friend at a cafe. Alex leaned back once again in his seat, folding his hands in his lap, bringing one leg over the other to cross them coyly.


    "Oh? Purity? What, is she not completing her task effectively enough? I could call her in for additional training - I hear she''s very popular with a certain crowd, I think we can play off of that..." Naivety was achieved without so much as a giggle, though Alex''s lips did twitch at the corners as he fought off a smile. Judas rolled her eyes, chuckling, before giving Alex his due response. She had the time to play this game, anyways.


    "No, no, Alex... Purity is no doubt scarfing down plenty of research material on a nightly schedule, more than efficiently for my standards. However, I mean your deal with her. Are you going to make me say it aloud?" A sharp black arch was raised, inquisition false enough that it was Alex''s turn to laugh.


    "Oh? I mean... If you would care to do so, Judas, I''d be happy to hear it. As it stands currently, I''ve not the foggiest as to what you are referring to..." Further feigned innocence, accompanied by a straightening of the back within his chair. Alex even put on a small pout for good measure, playing into the act as much as he felt he physically could without getting sick. Judas groaned.


    "You¡¯re supplying her, Alex. With meat. I¡¯m sure of it, I¡¯ve got proof and everything. I could take you straight to the god damn executive council, and get you castrated like the naughty little tomcat you are. And worse, too¡­¡± She gave him a wink, her lips pulling back to give him a smile that was more of a baring of tooth and fang.


    ¡°Wire inlay on your nervous system, made of silver. Constant, piercing agony, every day of your life until you finally self-terminate. A cavalcade of misery to go along with the rest of your miserable little existence. Maybe replace all your teeth with silver implants¡­ Lower you into acid a millimeter at a time, only to pull you back out once you¡¯re just a head¡­¡±


    Alex cleared his throat to cut Judas off, beginning to interject without even letting her make a space in her speech. ¡°Ahem! You¡¯ve never struck me as the kind of woman to endorse pulling out, in any sense of the word! But, yes. I admit it. I was dealing meat.¡±


    In any other context, the phrase ¡®dealing meat¡¯ would have been met with a rather admirable bit of humor. Right now? The implications of it were all too real, and the associated consequences bearing equal import. The punishment for meat-dealing was cauterization of certain body parts, beginning with non-essential organs, but you only got a handful of warnings. Fuck up again, or badly enough? You¡¯d wish you had just been dropped in acid.


    ¡°Good. At least you admit it - that¡¯s more than I had hoped to get out of you, if I¡¯m being honest. Now that that¡¯s all settled, Purity herself: where is she? I need to speak with her regarding one of her harvest candidates. Collections have been scarce recently.¡± The implication of how Judas would approach fixing that was all too clear, and while Alex had facilitated Purity¡¯s oppression, he still felt a kinship with the pink-haired prostitute. Purity was friendly. She was a darling. Hell, he even sort of liked her girlfriend - what was her name?


    Esper James? Something like that. Didn¡¯t matter now, though - and he doubted it would ever matter to him again.


    Alex felt a gun barrel press to the back of his head. He reached a hand out to the console, laying his hand there as if to simply change its position. The guard that had taken up position behind him didn¡¯t seem too threatened by that.


    Alex sighed deeply before responding, only half of it fake. He was suddenly very tired¡­ Not just of this scenario, or from his physical state, but a simple and generalized exhaustion. This whole world was exhausting. Tsang was exhausting. Why did things have to be this way; why did they have to live in such a world, one that encouraged behaving this way? He was tired of it.


    It was good that he wouldn¡¯t have to deal with it much longer.


    ¡°Alright, Judas, I get it. You¡¯re jealous. Purity has a cute girlfriend, one who happens to be your secretary, and suddenly you¡¯re faced with the reality that you can¡¯t always have what you want! Fine. Purity is outside town right now, five miles north, hiding out-¡± A gesture from Judas, and the pull of a trigger, shut Alex up mid-sentence.


    The blast of the gunbarrel at point-blank was enough to make Alex¡¯s ears ring. This would have been more bothersome if his lower jaw and a portion of his head weren¡¯t removed by the sudden presence of projectile lead.


    He gurgled and scowled, his spare hand going to grab himself by the hair, holding his head up. He wasn¡¯t unconscious, but the confrontation had quickly become one-sided. Judas, splattered with his blackened blood as she now was, smirked. The tension between them was palpable, but not quite so palpable as the newly-removed teeth that littered the area.


    The businesswoman made a businesslike snigger, now leaning back in her own chair to mimic Alex. ¡°Shut the fuck up, Alex. Please. I¡¯ll get to her¡­ We¡¯re gonna take you to a clinic right now, get your jaw replaced so you can tell me what I want to know. Get up. Now.¡±


    Alex wordlessly refused. It was now or never - the moment was here, and it would never arrive again. His hand on the console, the one he had laid there so innocuously, pressed one final button.


    Click.


    Alarms began to blare immediately, throughout the entire facility. Up on the panopticon, the show¡¯s climax had begun. Every cell in the building, in unison, was thrown wide - Prisoners both second-living and first-living flooded into the halls, making as best of use of this sudden jailbreak as they could. Unprepared guards were accosted and overwhelmed in short order, and when the gaggle of prisoners hit the main courtyard, the front gate had already been opened for them. They were free to go, courtesy of the site overseer.


    Judas¡¯s calm, smug facade cracked instantly. She opened her mouth to reprimand Alex, but she didn¡¯t get the chance: his button-pressing hand shot like a comet into his shirt. There was an odd, chunky metallic sound, one that caused Judas¡¯s goons to become more alert than they had been this entire evening.


    ¡°Ma¡¯am, he¡¯s got a bomb! Back up!¡± The hired muscle who had blown off Alex¡¯s jaw from behind took him by the shirt collar, dragging him back a few feet and throwing him to the ground. Judas didn¡¯t move - she wasn¡¯t afraid enough to override her rage - and the consequences reared their ugly head.


    Alex laughed a gurgling, blood-laden laugh for only two seconds, nearly three, before the grenade went off. He was almost immediately doused in white-hot flames, the area around him blossoming into a fireball that reeked of burning flesh.


    He couldn¡¯t hear what Judas was saying as she berated him, his ears quickly beginning to crisp and crackle as his self-immolation went unmolested. It¡¯s not like the thugs carried fire extinguishers, right? Even as his eyeballs began to melt, the utter, undiluted rage on Judas¡¯s face made it all worth it. Made dying worth it.


    In his final moments, as the raging inferno of incendiary chemicals and second-living flesh consumed him, he thought of Purity. He hoped she¡¯d be okay. Hoped she¡¯d be able to stay safe from Judas, and whatever the fuck was going on. Eventually, he was too burnt to even think.


    Judas spat on his cinders once his corpse was little more than pungent, smoking carbon. That little bitch may have finished himself off, may have escaped her, but that didn¡¯t mean shit. At the end of the day, he was one more two-faced traitor who was out of her hair. That was a good thing, she figured - at least she wouldn¡¯t have to hear his smarmy-ass voice at executive councils anymore.


    Now, though, she had bigger fish to fry than him: she had to find Purity.

 Act Three (Ch. 51) - Last Legal Drug; or, One For the Road

    Their tea was finished in relative silence then, Luca watching the women with a distinct placidity to his features. The girls, however, looked more into the fluid in their cups than at one another. Purity and EJ squeezed one another''s hands as they sat and drank, sipping their tea, each one searching for comfort within the other. EJ''s other hand found its way to Est''s, after she had finished her tea; Esthrielle swapped the hand she held her cup with to take the ghoul''s palm in hers.


    Then, Luca was up, on his feet, brushing off the trench coat he had been wearing all night. Wordlessly, he gave the trio a nod, then excused himself. They were left to their own devices. Almost as soon as Luca closed the door, Purity spoke up. "Wow... God, this is serious, huh? Like... No, that was dumb to say. It''s been serious since... As long as I can remember, to be honest. Serious for all of us. We''ve been just dealt shit hands on repeat, huh?"


    "But now... talking about... attacking Tsang? Trying to sabotage the company itself? I mean, frankly, those fuckers deserve nothing more than a mouth full of silver pellets, but..." She allowed the silence to subsume whatever she would have followed with. Esthrielle, instead, spoke then - taking residence in the vacancy Purity had made. "But? Look, the Knights have the means, right? Tsang is just one company."


    One company that ruled Vitus, and practically the entire UNAC, EJ thought to herself. She wasn''t the only one, judging by Purity''s shift of expression, but the pinkette didn''t offer retort. Now was EJ''s turn to speak, giving her friend and her lover another squeeze to steel herself and them as she interjected. "Just one company... Sure, yeah. But you know what they''re capable of. This whole city is their fucking citadel, their kingdom... And in that shitty tower, only up at the top, is the guy who would actually have to go down to stop all of this. A-And, uh, even then... Even then, what would happen to people like me? Without Tsang, it would be-"


    Esthrielle put up a finger with her free hand, stopping EJ in her tracks. Esper James dutifully shut the fuck up, eyes wide, looking intently to the cyborg at her side. Est''s tone when she spoke was sharp as the edge of a silvered blade, and twice as hard. "People like you will be fine, EJ. Luca''s anything but a monster... He won''t start setting up camps as soon as that ancient bastard at the top of the tower kicks the bucket. The Knights will pull out of Vitus; the crusade will be over. There won''t be any reason to hurt anyone else."


    Despite her conviction, the words didn''t ring as true as was intended. EJ doubted that the Knights would simply leave, when they had been whipped into a froth about how soulless and evil the undead were. It was a miracle that she had even made it into one of their compounds in one piece, with her consciousness still in-tact. She was pretty certain, back in that car when they had first arrived, that she''d get perforated like a cheese grater before setting foot inside.


    Purity''s turn. "Well, if all you guys wanna do is kill Tsang, then what''s with the rest of it? The fire-bombings? The assassinations? The terror attacks? Your ''Knights'' don''t really seem the type to peacefully pick up and go, once it''s all said and done." Her brows furrowed, her expression skeptical at best; at worst, it was a scowl. Esthrielle opened her mouth to reply, but found no words could come - she, instead, looked down into her empty teacup. Purity harrumphed with grim satisfaction before going on.


    "Anyways. Regardless of if the Knights are gonna kill everyone in Vitus or not, we''re stuck here now. There''s no chance of escape, so we may as well work with your people, Est. EJ? Get ready for bed. Big day tomorrow; gotta remember, Est and her kind probably work during the daylight hours, so we should at least try to rest." Purity''s expression softened a few steps as she turned to her lover, using the grip on her hand to pull EJ in for a hug.


    EJ went with it, her diminutive figure swaddled up in Purity''s more buxom physique. Her living lover''s warmth still surprised the little ghoul; still made her want to cling as long as she could. Being second-living had its perks, but the craving for warmth offset the potential to ignore great cold. She nodded against Purity, head resting on the other woman''s breasts, letting her eyes shut in the embrace.


    Esthrielle let go of EJ''s hand and stood, promptly turning on a heel and strutting over to one of the unattended wardrobes. She threw it open while E and P cuddled, taking two fistfuls of black cloth after a moment of inspection. The cloth was then tossed to the two women at the table. Est grinned wryly as the garments landed against their intended marks, the Wayward planting fists upon her hips. "There. If you''re gonna be in the convent for a few days, which it sounds like you are, then you two should get used to dressing the part. No more street clothes."


    This snapped EJ and Puri from their snuggle, the taller of the two looking down at the ebon robes which were draped over the blonde''s head and torso. She pulled the robes free with her off-hand, looking down at them in her grip. Purity gasped loudly, eyes snapping to attention and saucer-like width, then shooting over to where Est smugly stood. "No. Really? Oh my God. We''re gonna dress like nuns, with real nun habits? Oh, fuck, this is... This is like a porno. If not for everything else, y''know, but still. Oh-ho-ho, wow... Okay, okay, yeah." Further platitudes were offered as Purity felt excitement rise from the ashes of despair and bitterness, letting go of EJ''s hands to better inspect the habit.


    EJ, meanwhile, lingered for a few moments more - eyes closed, mouth shut, heart calm, face smooshed into a pair of soft, warm tits. It was a great way to be, in all honesty... But then the word ''porno'' was uttered, and she came alive again. Why was Purity talking about porn in a time like this? Did she find some dishonest nun''s porn stash? Was it something on her phon- Oh. "Oh shit... We''ve g-gotta dress in... Nun habits. Wow... That... Yeah, that is pretty, uh... Smutty." She held her tongue, so as not to spill the beans that she had read some stuff that went exactly like this.


    Purity was on her feet in an instant, beginning to strip down without prompting. Est''s face was painted with shock as she realized what Purity was doing, but she didn''t speak up. Didn''t try to stop the pinkette at all. Considering Puri''s past, there are plenty of people who would happily pay for this sort of thing; here she was, getting it for free. ''Better to drink it all in than look away'', was what she told herself, at least. Some distant thought nagged at her, in the back of her mind, that the convent was a holy place. Maybe taking such a sexual tone was going against the intent of the Convent as a whole.


    But, fuck it. Better to live while you''re alive, right?


    More justification. Esthrielle both daren''t look away, and didn''t want to think too long on any of it.


    Purity''s clothes were discarded into a messy pile beside one of the beds, completely disregarded. All of them, in fact; her bra and panties, too, were slipped free and cast away. They weren''t necessary right now, or so thought the club darling; besides, it would be more fun to be full-nude beneath the habit. The main robe was donned, and then the headpiece, Purity adjusting it so that the bangs and framing locks of her trademark hime cut were still visible. It took her even longer than it normally would have, if only so she could put on a show for all in attendance.


    EJ felt her breath catch, and the dead thumping of her heart quicken at the display. Sure, she and Puri had become intimate plenty of times at this point - what was it, five? - but, still... Seeing her girlfriend''s body like this, seeing her acting so confidently, so suggestively... It was exciting. Exciting in a way that she hadn''t really had since the whole thing at Judas''s house, with Esthrielle, and that fucking cat. God, she was glad that cat was dead.


    Cat? Maybe a cat. Maybe something else. If Tsang could make the second-living, if they had such advanced biotech to grow organs and resurrect the dead, why couldn''t they make a monster? That concept didn''t sit super well with Esper James, honestly, but those thoughts were pushed away when Purity took the loose cloth of her habit and tugged it behind herself.


    In an instant, Purity''s entire body, from the neck down - the curve of her bust, the swell of her thighs, even the gentle tone of her tummy - was outlined like she was vacuum-sealed into the robe. Est whistled from across the room, her brain similarly mush at the sight of Puri making a mockery of her religion''s traditional garb. "Wow, Puri, sheesh. I''ve, uh... I never had a thing for any of the other nuns here, y''know, but... Wow. God damn. Maybe I''m starting to get why there''s such a fetish in the West for this kind of thing, hahaha...!"


    Puri simply winked in response to Est''s compliment, her soft pink lips, as nearly as bubblegum-coloured as her hair, curling into a wicked smirk. She turned to observe EJ, to see her reaction: the blonde''s mouth was agape, her eyes glued to Purity like a fly on a trap. It was adorable, if you were into seeing that kind of reaction. Thankfully? Purity was - it had been exactly what she wanted. "Oh, Eee-Jayyy...~ I''ve been such a naughty girl, hahaha... I think I need to atone for my sins. Get on my knees and pray. Give penance, receive salvation. Care to help a girl out?"


    EJ felt herself come alive once again, this time between her thighs as much as in her chest. She nodded as quickly as her body allowed, all too eager to do whatever Purity wanted. Anything to get her hands on her girlfriend... Anything at all. Briefly, she considered that maybe, after all, this wasn''t the time nor place for this sort of thing. But then, more forcefully than her trepidation, another thought barged in. Maybe this would be the last time they''d get the opportunity to make love, or even be suggestive. Maybe this would be their last chance to flirt. And, hell... When was she going to get a chance to screw her beautiful girlfriend in a genuine convent, ever again? Even if they did live long, full lives, this wasn''t the sort of thing you passed up.


    Purity put out her right hand to the chair-bound ghoulette, beckoning with her forefinger slowly, teasingly. She puckered her lips up and whimpered playfully, lids drooping to give her better half some lethal bedroom eyes. As she waited for EJ to rise from her chair, however, Purity also looked to Est - giving her the exact same treatment, with vocal encouragement. "Ohhhhh, Esthrielle... Sister Esthrielle, hahaha... You''re here to oversee my penance, aren''t you? Make sure I''m a good girl from now on? Repent for my sins? C''mere... Don''t be shy. I see you staring, sister..."


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    It was Est''s turn to go speechless, fumbling over her words, the blatant nature of the invitation mingling with absolute shock that it had been given at all. Sure, she had been staring, it was true. She had even, undeniably, said something aloud about how hot Purity was. But, ugh... They hadn''t even discussed this sort of thing! It had never come up between the three of them! The idea of... Of being anything more than friends, even if that included ''friends with benefits''? It was daunting. She made to step towards Purity, but that ghostly feeling of God himself staring down at her stayed her feet. For now.


    Turmoil raged within the Wayward''s mind, and showed on her face. Where first there had been naught but a blush, the more she contemplated it, the more it ate away at her, causing her brow to furrow. Nuns were... holy women. Briefly, a convent back in Venice came to mind - and with it, her initiation ceremony. Being made to learn her vows... The concept of ''marriage'' to Jesus... She, herself, was only honorarily a nun. Recruits for the crusade had been inducted into respective nunneries or monastic orders, based on their place of birth.


    Reveries of women in black cloth ripped through her brain like a spray of hot, damning lead. And yet... With those memories came a sense of doubt. She had devoted herself to Luca and her adoptive father, first and foremost. In all her time in Italia, she had never really been inclined towards theology. God seemed so far away, and now, here? He felt closer than ever before, and he was not happy with what he saw.


    EJ spoke up as her legs drew her to a stand, slowly going to make her way to Purity - not out of hesitance, but out of a desire to let the moment go on for a bit longer. "E-Est, uh... I think Purity''s right. Surely, a s-senior sister needs to discipline her junior, right? Ha-ha-ha... I mean, d-don''t if you don''t want to. We''re not gonna be mad at you..." While the concept of a nun-themed threesome with the other women had Esper James feral beneath the skin, her head still played host to the same sort of thoughts as Est''s.


    Purity had never really showed any of that kind of consideration to Esthrielle... She had never mentioned it to EJ, certainly. And EJ had felt awful about even considering it - after the night with Judas, the concept of trying anything with Est seemed like it overstepped at least twenty boundaries. It had never seemed to be an option, for any of them, for myriad reasons. And yet, here they were, with Purity taking the initiative. Purity, the most unknown of the variables at play, making the first move.


    Frankly, Esper James was into it. She knew Est. Vaguely, she remembered the feeling of those steel fangs in her neck and shoulder... Remembered the feeling of Est''s warm, sweat-limned torso against her own tepid flesh. Remembered the sound of her breathing and whining. She couldn''t help but get a little turned on by the concept of getting those things all over again, but now, with ideally enthusiastic consent. She looked over to the hesitant Italian, offering as warm and welcoming a smile as she could.


    The ghoulish fangs didn''t help.


    Est''s scowl began to subside, replaced with trepidation - intimidation, even. A single bead of sweat formed at her brow as she thought it over, put on the spot to lead them though it. Seeing Esper James''s bare flesh... Est''s ocular prosthetics clung to the ghoul''s body inthe same way the blonde clung to Purity. Esthrielle''s stomach felt tight; her throat had grown a new lump. There was a certain sort of emotion that was brought to the fore: somewhere between grief and, to her own surprise, excitement.


    ''Was this exciting?'', she wondered. She couldn''t simply put certain thoughts and memories aside... but, at the same time, the sight of EJ and Purity there, watching and waiting, it helped her forget. Helped her push those painful glimpses away, momentarily locking them up. She wanted to be able to acknowledge that, if things were different? This would have been a dream to her. Two beautiful women she had quickly grown close to, inviting her formally (as formally as one did with such things) to screw? In a perfect world, one without all this awfulness, nothing would have been better. Esthrielle sighed.


    Purity''s mischief-dripping smile began to fade, a knife returning to its sheath. Her face turned from seductive to sad as Est''s hesitation lasted, moments more akin to hours in the relative silence of the room. EJ''s face, too, veered from excited to apologetic. Her blonde brow-arches turned inward, adorning herself with the expression of a parent telling their child that Santa will be late this year. "Ah... Est? You don''t... You don''t have to, y''know. We aren''t g-gonna be, uh, mad..."Her apologetic smile wavered for a moment once silence returned, but Purity was quick to add on.


    "Yeah! Esthrielle, I... I was thinking that, recently, we''ve all been one stroke of bad luck away from getting caught. Getting hunted down and killed. If this is in any way offensive, just lemme know, I... Offending you is the last thing I want to do." She opened her mouth once again, going to tack on further words of reassurance, but they weren''t necessary. Est sighed deeply, the pained, thoughtful look on her face washed away by the spring rain of her friends'' concern. If, of course, ''friends'' was even the right term to use for the two sluts she was confronted by.


    "F-Fine. Fine. You''re kinda right, Purity... EJ and I already got fucked over once. The three of us are pretty much one bad move from a game over, hahaha... So fine. I gotta, ahaha, warn you - my experience in this department is all from porn. So... I''ll do my best. Just help me figure out what to do..." In her head, she fought a war to keep it quiet that this was her first time. Everything up until this point didn''t count. They hadn''t been keeping score - why would she? Her first time, then. Time to take the leap.


    Purity and EJ both felt a wash of relief flood their chest, hearts'' flames quenched by the calming deluge of consent. Purity gave her ass an anticipatory wiggle, her mirth returning hand-in-hand with her lust; EJ simply offered back that trademark needle-toothed smile, bright eyes and all. Her deadened heart had been pounding out a marching beat, but now that Est had given the green light, she was faced with a new re-realization: oh, they were gonna have sex. All three of them. Oh God. That set her cardiac snare a-rap-tap-tapping to a new, far preferable rhythm.


    Est began to move, silently offering her acceptance, her building eagerness to play. When she came to the other two, one arm was slung around EJ, the other around Purity. Caught up in the moment as she was, her hands were anything but shy: synthetic fingers searching for anywhere they could take handfuls of the other two. It felt almost shockingly good to the Wayward - last time she had been in a situation like this, especially with EJ, it had been tinged with a permanent sort of trauma. Here? Now? Taking back her own agency, and still being offered this treatment?


    It was cathartic. She smiled from ear to ear, then, getting up on her tip-toes to kiss Purity hard on the lips. As for EJ, however, she pulled the girl in. EJ was dragged between Purity''s and Esthrielle''s own torsos and kept there firmly, urged to drink of their warmth and softness. Esper James was anything but upset about this new development. She took it upon herself to drop to her knees, now level with both womens'' waistlines. Purity, too, was eager to acquiesce: first, the kiss was pure, but powerfully-given. It only took a second or two for twin tongues to get involved.


    The scent of myrrh and frankincense in the air from the hallway''s censers played backdrop to the shampoo and bodywash of the bathhouse. Esthrielle let go of EJ to put both hands on Purity, sandwiching the submissive blonde''s head between the still-standing pair, and Purity simply giggled in response. She broke the kiss, looking down at Esthrielle with feigned innocence, though the naivety was anything but genuine.


    "Ohhh, sister Esthrielle... You''re so aggressive... You''ve really been needing this, haven''t you? Been needing to take this role... Tell your junior sisters what to do, please! Here, let''s take this to the bed... It''ll be easier for us to, ahaha, pray there..." She moved to pull away, drifting towards the bed, staying just out-of-reach to the Wayward as she went. Est grabbed EJ by the shoulder and dragged her to a stand, then shoved her towards the bed; steel fangs were on display as she looked over her new playmates, grinning so wide her face felt it may snap in half.


    "Oh, God, yes... You''re so right, sister Purity. EJ? Strip. Go on; we''ll wait. And then, once we''re all ready, I''ll be happy to instruct the both of you on how to properly worship." Esthrielle''s confidence was at least ninety-percent bluster. She''d never been in this sort of position before, being shuffled into a dominant, instructive role. All her life, she had been the one being instructed - sexually or otherwise. She was treading new waters here, but she had certainly seen enough of Vitus''s midday TV programming to get the gist of it.


    Purity placed herself gingerly on the bed, going to watch as EJ stripped down. Esper James, by contrast, stopped at the edge of the bed. She could feel something old and familiar course through her veins, toggling switches in her brain, setting her demeanor to one of blind obedience. Someone could''ve told her she was made of putty, and she would have agreed. The old obedience, while free of Judas''s vampiric influence, was to her every bit the needle entering a track-laden arm. A warm glow bloomed in her sternum, her stomach, and her loins.


    It felt right to be told what to do by someone like Est - someone who claimed to be acting in her best interest. Someone who was, presumably, telling her what to do only to help her. Her hands trembled; her knees wobbled like a newborn fawn. She blinked, and when she opened her eyes anew, she was nude, suffering the lust-drenched observation of her two partners-to-be. She gasped when she realized her own bareness, dressed in naught but what she was born in. Despite the embarrassment of it, her bravest warrior twitched in a single, crude salute to its general.


    Est''s grin would have fit perfectly upon the face of a shark. She nodded in approval, beckoning EJ closer with the prompt curl-uncurl of her left hand''s fingers. "Good. You''re a quick learner, Esper James... We''ll make a proper nun out of you yet. Sister Purity? Pull up your habit. I''ve got a... heheh, great idea of how you can start your penance. And then lean forward, over the bed. If we were on the floor, you''d be put to kneel... But thankfully, we''ve got a bed here. Convenient." While she awaited compliance, Est shimmied herself out of her own clothes, throwing them off by where EJ and Purity''s own were piled.


    Purity''s sounds of mirth as she complied nearly came out in a cackle. Thank God, everything was going exactly as she had hoped. Now, she just hoped Est tasted good...

 Act Three (Ch. 52) - Gott in Himmel; or, Lambs in Pasture

    Motion came easily from impulse, but difficulty mounted as emotions began to show. Each woman played to her role without fuss, any remaining apprehension thrown away, save for that for their lovers. Esthrielle was uncertain in her movements, though few were necessary - the buck and roll of hips, a turn at the waist, the press of flesh-to-flesh. Her hands weren''t as unsteady as they should have been, nerves suddenly crashing into her as she realized what she had signed up for. It was nothing she had ever dreamt of holding in her hands; it was nothing she had ever dared hope to see.


    Purity was gentle, caring: the brush of fingertips along thighs, tracing the curvature of synthetic muscles, sent a warm lightning bolt up the Wayward''s spine. Est went to speak, to try and direct - as she was assured her role was, in this liason - but the words died within her. Purity''s tongue and lips saw to that. Esthrielle''s response, quickly given though unbidden, was a ragged, breathy rush of air. It may have began as a moan, at one place, in one time. Instead, to her? It felt more akin to a cry.


    She shivered, spine arching on its own, womanhood beset by cruel, benevolent fate. Red-tinted LEDs sought the blonde of their trio, trying to ground herself, trying for any sort of connection to reality. Rubies met emeralds, and shared words unspoken. The ghoul was upright, still, hands keeping Purity on hand and knee, appropriating her hips for personal use. Bodies pushed and clashed, jockeying for positions they already knew they would get. There was something mesmerizing, and somewhat placating, about seeing such practiced partnership.


    Esper James said nothing, and hid nothing. Her full form was on display, though much of it was concealed beneath rolling hills of Purity, with more still buried therein. Est didn''t... Didn''t want to see. Not yet. Not so quickly. The cannibal offered peace through bared ivory - a show to shame a Cheshire, though bearing no mischief to compare. She was feeling fine. She didn''t even seem phased that the two of them were back in this dance. Didn''t even seem to feel the weight that pressed upon Esthrielle''s sternum.


    All at once, Est couldn''t breathe. She was sure she could have, in a literal, physical sense - and yet every system was blocked, all processes locked out. What little meat remained in her form had betrayed her. Her eyes, still locked with Esper James'', went wide - her hands, which had been left abandoned at the wayside, rushed to her throat. A choked attempt at something, anything, was all her partners had to hear.


    Esper James began to speak frantically, smile disappearing in record speed; Purity''s head rose from its nest, eyes snapping to Esper James, then locking to Esthrielle''s. Both were speaking now; both were frantic, white-bread faces slathered with a butter of concern. No rage nor indignace was hosted. No blame nor scorn was borne upon her by them. The only thing they seemed to be focused on, as seconds ticked away, was Esthrielle''s wellbeing. That was new.


    Not from them, per se, but in general. As a child, Esthrielle had been an orphan, her father locked away. In adulthood, she took his place. Only once she had lost all youthful innocence had anyone stopped to ask how she felt, or what she wanted. Only Luca had ever truly seemed to care. And yet here, now, ugly truth bore unfamiliar beauty. EJ and Purity were upset - not at her, but for her. They wanted her to be okay. The more Est considered it, the sex was probably for her in the first place, Purity''s way of reaching out. Purity''s way of loving another.


    The stone lodged in her windpipe budged, only enough that she could take in a single breath, then finding a new foothold within her. The white-haired woman brought her attention once more to her vision - to find she was staring at the ceiling. Purity''s hand was on the Wayward''s throat, pressing here and there, probing around. Trying to find a blockage, most likely - trying to discern the problem. EJ simply stood to the side, hands behind her back, face a portrait of shame and impotence. Self-loathing was painted there too, brushstrokes thicker and bolder by the second. From that familiar glassiness, she was near to tears.


    Esthrielle was shocked once again by their fear. What was she to them, she thought. A protector who had failed time and time again. An ally whose only provision to their trio was who she knew. A poor excuse for a lover, as well - too afraid of her own emotions, and those of distant theocrats who meant nothing to her. She didn''t even know what to say to Purity to keep the nun theme going.


    But then, of course, the two women who now fussed over her still considered her worth the fuss. They cared if she recovered; they cared how she felt, and that she was okay. It was a lot for Esthrielle to take in. As her stockpile of breath dwindled to its last, she began to cry.


    It first came in a single rough-shod sob, a trembling, quivering thing, clawing its way up and out of her throat. The stone of grief within was dislodged then, tumbling away, to somewhere unseen. Breathing came quickly then, to replace the stale air in her lungs; this fresh air was pushed free in mere seconds as further tears appeared. Purity''s eyes lit up like candles, but her lips remained dour - she dropped her face to nestle between jaw and collarbone, arms wrapping the Italian tightly.


    Esper James gasped loudly, and in that tension, it may well have been a rifle''s report. Her body was as a ragdoll thrown across a room. EJ''s torso fell atop Est''s own, arms going to meekly hold her, lips going to timidly kiss her midsection. Esthrielle continued to sob, body wracked by them. The hands once held to her throat went now to the small of the other women''s backs, fingers curling ineffectually in an attempt to hold onto them. Fingernails dragged along skin with uncharacteristic weakness; her prosthetics felt as diminished as when Judas had kissed her.


    The comparison was a bitter pill, but Purity quickly swept it away. The pinkette squeezed Esthrielle with all her might, for but a moment, but enough to set her broken spirit back in its place. Purity''s head rose from where it had been nestled, lips now bent in a remorseful smile. She placed a kiss on Est''s forehead, directly above and between her brows. When her lips began to move in speech, some unthinking aspect of the orphan was surprised to hear what her companion was saying.


    "...Esthrielle. We don''t need to do this if you don''t want to. You mean so much to us, to Esper James and I both... I''m sorry I even suggested it. It was insensitive of me, to say the least. It didn''t... I wasn''t giving enough thought to how you might feel. I guess I just... wanted to try and make a new memory with you, and EJ. Something sweet to remember, if things get sour." Purity, too, was crying now; she didn''t sob like Esthrielle did, but her tears still came with that burning sting of emotion, and they fell like summer rain to Est''s face.


    If Est wasn''t so caught up in her own pain, she would have liked to reassure the other woman. She would have liked to say anything at all, really, to try and let them both know they hadn''t done anything wrong. They hadn''t hurt her, and if they had, it wasn''t their fault. In the midst of her own agony she yearned to dispel theirs. All that came from her was the awful sound of her own cruel sorrow.


    Time passed, second by second, minute by minute, the wellspring of tears withering from a flood to a stream, a stream to a trickle. Finally, even that trickle was dammed. They lay there in one another''s arms for a few moments before the silence was broken. Esthrielle finally let the words in her heart roll from quivering lips. Purity and Esper James didn''t say anything right away, but they listened well, raising their heads to look to the broken girl with the pale locks.


    "I, uh... P-Purity. Esper James. I... I''m sorry for ruining the mood. Don''t speak; don''t interject, not yet. Just... Lemme f-finish what I''ve got to say, ok? You two... You didn''t do anything wrong." Her mouth broke into a sad facsimile of a smile, brows curved downwards, heart heavy but lightening. "You didn''t hurt me, you d-didn''t- You didn''t offend me. You weren''t insensitive. You wanted to... To help me feel better. To show you cared in the best way you''ve found." She looked to Esper James, and then to Purity; every syllable was a leaden weight dropped from her soul, it felt.


    "I... I want to try again. Nothing weird, no... No costumes, ha-ha, just... Just us. Just the three of us... I, uh..." The next words to pass her lips were the heaviest of all of them, threatening to fall back down her throat, to hide within her heart. She forced them free after a moment, daring herself to say what she yearned for and dreaded deeply in equal measure. "I l-love you two. You''ve... We haven''t known each other that long, it''s t-true, but... But you''re the best things that have ever happened to me. You and Luca. Without the two of you, I''d be..."


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    Esthrielle let herself trail away this time, words unspoken yet not unheard. She would still be killing innocents, still believing that she was alone, still filled with doubt as to if she should even be alive. She would still be bombing residences. She would still be burying herself in her work, so she didn''t need to confront her own existence. She would still be an unthinking, unfeeling little pawn of an organization that she was quickly realizing she had no affection for. Maybe love was the wrong way to describe what she felt for them, but what did she know? She had never truly felt love before; not romantic love, at the least.


    She had never really brushed the dust off of her atrophied heart, because it had never been safe to. She had never felt as though she could without dying more than she already had. Even now, vulnerability''s cruel talons pierced Esthrielle''s emotions to the marrow, but still she pressed on. She curled her fingers and uncurled them once more, a silent gesture of affection to the two women laying atop her. Esper James began to cry now, no eye left dry; however, her teardrops held no sorrow.


    EJ''s arms wrapped around Est''s waist, gathering her up in an embrace. The emotions behind such a gesture were too myriad, too complicated, for EJ to pick out any single one. They were, however, good. It was good to hear Est say these things; it was so very comforting, so God damn calming, to know that Esthrielle was okay. To know that she wasn''t upset with either of them... To know that she didn''t blame them for anything. To know that they were all on similar ground.


    Purity put her other arm out to wrap it around Esper James''s back, pulling the diminutive girl in and up, lowering herself to press once more to Esthrielle''s bare chest. The three of them shared, cherished even, a long, silent embrace. When they broke their hold upon one another, Purity took the initiative. She leaned her face down to Est''s, silently asking permission - when it was given with a knowing look, Purity kissed her. Lips pressed to lips, their hearts connected between them, and when they had drunk their fill of the kiss, Purity gave her love to Esper James.


    Esper James and Purity kissed; Esthrielle looked on with half-lidded eyes and a gradually blossoming grin. A hole in each of them had been long left gaping, the patchwork of their hearts ruptured and cold. That hole had finally, truly, begun to fill - the shapes of one another beginning to cover those time-worn wounds of the soul. In time, their hearts would grow around these new jigsaw pieces, and they would be whole again. So they each hoped, at least.


    Purity pulled away from Esper James, face glistening with a wetness both her own and her blonde''s. A grin of her own formed in the blink of an eye, hemmed with mischief, but sewn from care. The arm around Esper James adjusted itself, Puri''s hand taking EJ by the back of the head, dragging her down. The pinkette leaned back down to Est, cheeks now flush; Est wasn''t so ignorant as to miss what Purity was doing, grin replaced with puckered lips.


    EJ only put two and two together once the three were close enough to share breath; when she did, however, her excitement was palpable. She puckered her slim lips without a moment of hesitation, and then a further pull from Purity completed the gesture. Three sets of lips made contact, pushing upon one another, mingling without conflict. EJ briefly considered putting out her tongue, as she had become to accustomed to with Purity; she decided against it, though. The hand left the back of her head as she closed her eyes; she could feel Purity jostle as she pulled the veil free, tossing it aside.


    This kiss lasted longer than those before, long enough, in fact, that their closeness became a focal point. Esthrielle had insisted they try again. Purity and Esper James were more than happy to accommodate. A pair of hands other than her own went to Purity''s habit, working it up and off of her body for her. It was cast aside, off to where the veil now lay, and finally the three of them were each bare. It was a lot for Esthrielle, just as it had been when they had first tried to make this work...


    ...but now? Now, she was ready for it. She knew what to expect. She had steeled her heart, though it was girded with affection as much as determination. She didn''t just want an orgasm; none of them did, in the end. Esthrielle wanted to make love to the women who had accepted her for who, and what, she was.


    The first rush of sensation within her loins felt perverse, shameful. It felt as guilty as a guilty pleasure could be, and without reason; she knew what she had signed up for, in a sense. She was no stranger to self-gratification, though she''d never let anyone know as much. Why did Esper James''s hands evoke such timid eroticism in her? She broke their shared kiss, then; not to scold, or to protest, but to ensure she could take in needed breaths. She was glad for her own decisive action when Purity leaned down, tenderly biting her neck, a lone hand going to join Esper James''s.


    Esthrielle trembled, flesh aquiver, hair beginning to stand on end. Every curl of a finger, every tender caress, every prod or poke... They sent electricity burning through her body like an overloaded fusebox. It was a shock that her prosthesis didn''t begin smoking like one, as well. Where they both seemed to be focusing on her, she gave her own inexperienced touch to them - only to find a partner already palming her intended targets.


    Est warbled out a sound of pleasure, Purity prepping her, Esper James taking charge. It was cute, EJ thought - distinctly cute, that this was how they had sort of fallen into things. Instead of a big, complicated group-fuck, here they were, snuggling one another and sharing warmth and fingers and hands. If it wasn''t so sweet, she might''ve thought it was kinky; but being able to open her eyes and see Purity''s and Est''s faces right there, inches away from her own? Sharing breath, sharing thoughts, loving one another without the need for words?


    That hole in her patchwork grew that much smaller, and she squirmed to try and get even closer to her lovers. Purity chuckled to herself at EJ''s eagerness, absent-minded wrist motion becoming more concerted. Esper James twitched and tensed in response, above and below; as was done in heaven, so too was done on earth. It was exactly what Purity had wanted.


    The act was well-practiced, at least by one of their party, and the most amateur among them was eager to learn and quick to acclimate. They lay there for the duration, never minding the time, never thinking of anything outside of this very room. Atop a bed that was not their own, each woman was brought to bear by her partners; within seconds of one another, if anyone had been paying attention. They weren''t. If you asked any of them, they would have all given the same answer: it was simultaneous. It just felt better to think of it that way, and it was close enough, anyways.


    Esthrielle clung to Esper James as Purity rose to a stand, more familiar with the sensation that afterglow brought than the other two were. The Wayward didn''t mind the dilution of EJ''s sweat with her own, or vice versa - the three women were all glistening in the warm glow of the sconces, anyways. She went to kiss the other woman just as Esper James went to kiss her; they ended up deciding to meet in the middle. They didn''t even really notice Purity''s hands on their legs, spinning them, adjusting their positioning.


    Puri was lucky that the other two girls were fairly petite. It only took a sliver of overall effort for her to right their angle, lay their heads upon the pillows, and climb in beside them. Today, Esthrielle got to be middle spoon, it seemed. She didn''t mind in the slightest - or wouldn''t have, if she had even really been paying attention. Instead, the only thing she could think of other than her lovers was the light level in the room. A quick mental command, transmitted to an unseen sensor, shut them down; the trio were plunged into darkness.


    Gently-laboured breathing was the only sound in the room, save for an air-circulation fan set into the ceiling. They calmed the rise and fall of their chests as their afterglows truly overstayed their welcomes, and soon, it was a comfortable sort of quiet in the dormitory. In that pitch-black darkness, Est put a hand out for the women on either side of her; finding a matching palm, she held them. A contented sigh found its way out of EJ''s voicebox, and Est mimicked it, an unseen smile plastered to her lips.


    Quite the memory to make, Est thought. Tomorrow was EJ''s testing. They had to get plenty of sleep, to ensure things went well.

 Act Three (Ch. 53) - Eat Me, Drink Me; or, Valley of Death

    EJ didn''t fall asleep quite yet; instead, she opted to lay there and enjoy the silence, the sound of breathing, the warmth of bodies. Gentle dampness borne of mixed sweat and spit and otherwise held the women''s skin to one another like a tacky, cheap glue. EJ certainly didn''t mind; she had no intention of pulling away from her lovers any time soon...


    The afterglow of lovemaking had wound down to a gentle, euphoric thrum: the background resonance that rippled through the body, twisting muscles and tensing sinew, orgasmic aftershocks both tensing and relaxing in a single wave. EJ felt her body was more like a tuning fork right now - the way her muscles shuddered, her skin pulled taut and gently shivering. She leaned further into the communal mound, being sure not to plant her hand somewhere uncomfortable as she clambered over her bedmates. Purity was happy to assist the blonde, pulling EJ''s face in closer, letting the blonde''s head rest on one side of her chest. Her body, instead, laid partway atop Est and Puri - Est shifted to grab at her waist.


    That comforting silence, backed by the smoky aroma of myrrh and frankincense, and the less-subtle scent of sex... It held its own sort of safety and security. Someone had pulled the sheets and covers overtop of them - probably Est, given her central position in the cuddle pile. EJ smirked to herself as she considered that, in the middle of all the grinding, the petting, the stroking, the kissing, Est had still had the sense of self to cover them all up. Fucking weirdo. That thought only made EJ want to lean down and kiss her, though - it was cute, too, just as much as it was ridiculous.


    Est groaned with mild, performative discontent at the smooch. An arm came up and across, playfully swatting at EJ; when it found purchase on the back of the ghoul''s head, Est used it to pull her in for a real kiss. Purity cooed, watching the two lock lips - nothing too aggressive or energetic, but still given an appropriate amount of passion. In the darkness, as lips touched and broke and touched again, they relished the warmth each other gave off.


    And then, eventually, sleep. There''s only so much kissing and snuggling one could perform, while laying nude in bed... Only so much they could do before falling asleep, anyways. One by one, the trio fell off into that great sea of slumber. Empyrean and vast, yet unmapped and unforgiving, the world of dreams was one of the few things that had yet to be explored in the modern world. Esper James nestled her head against Purity''s chest as she allowed herself to drift away, hazarding a gentle yawn that was rewarded with a kiss on the forehead. She vocalized happily in response, nearly a whimper but far too pleased. Purity blew her another kiss, and then, they each fell to sleep.


    -


    When she awoke, she was alone. The convent was no longer a convent: it was Tsang HQ, the blackened marble and gilt filigree, the crimson drapes and the dark wood furnishings... The air no longer smelled of the usual cleaning agents, but of blood, and something else. Something more... artificial, and yet, the most natural scent EJ could imagine. The scent of blood, though... It was strong, impossibly strong. Not that it was immediately surrounding her; rather, that the scent of it buried claws within EJ''s nostrils and dragged her down the hall. She went along willingly.


    As she walked, both aromas grew in intensity - the source of one drawing near just as she drew herself nearer to the latter. That put a spike of dread in the ghoulette''s heart, actually, and she stopped to consider it for a moment. Her head snapped around, turning to look over her own shoulder, paranoia setting in. There was nothing... Though that heavy, warm aroma still drew closer by the second. She turned to lean against the wall, mouth dripping with drool from the bloodscent, brain way too worried about whatever the other thing was.


    She gazed around, trying to place it; trying to somehow explain it away or justify it. She came up blank. The halls were the same as they had always been: black marble with golden trim and mahogany embellishments... Red silken curtains and carpet adorned the windows and floor, with smaller crimson accents and wooden garnish found here and there. The lights weren''t even the tacky sort of fluorescent bars you found in most office buildings: they were sconces, flickering with imagery of flames, meant to evoke actual candles or torches. Whoever had done the interior design? Seriously liked vampires. Maybe a bit too much.


    Whatever, fuck it - worse came worse, EJ would just jump. Her mind flashed back to memories of three years ago - when Tsang had decided to update the policies regarding employee retention, and emergency procedures. In the event of a nuclear weapon, or an attack on the building? You were supposed to stay inside. They''d just dig you out of the rubble. But, in the event of a fire, or extraction by a hostile party like the knights? Or even just, y''know, to relieve stress? You were encouraged to jump.


    A big leap... A big fall. Tremendous, even - she''d seen a few execs who were having real hard days splatter against the asphalt like overripe fruit. Hard to explain the stains to her dry cleaner, when she had brought her shirt in... But the blackened blood that covered her? It ended up being her inspiration for the blackened tips. Made her feel super goth and edgy, in a cool, risqu¨¦ way, like she was repping all her dead brothers and sisters. That''s what she told herself, at least - she''d loved to have lived that sort of life, but she was too timid at the end of the day.


    The idea was, of course, that if you leapt, you''d just get scraped from the pavement like an old wad of gum. If you were alive? Morgue, cold-womb, back to work. If you were second-living? Back to work immediately - wait it out in the in-house company clinic until you''ve got enough bodily function to work. Then, once you do? Better get to your office. The window you had to kick out to jump would get taken out of your pay to replace, of course... And the labour required to clean you up, to put you back together, and to cover your work while you recovered.


    EJ had never jumped herself, but the idea of the debt associated with it scared her way more than the thought of falling. Still, though... She figured that maybe some people needed that release? Or were just curious? Whatever... She didn''t like to think of it. The reasons for pantomiming suicide couldn''t be a great topic of serious thought, anyways. She had already been thinking of actual suicide so often recently... The stress of it all, and knowing that they''d make her life hell if they caught her? It made a girl yearn for the oven.


    But that was then. This was now. Her stomach grumbled and roiled, sounding like a beast possessed - the scent of blood in the air reminded EJ that she was actually pretty fucking hungry now, and not just for flesh. She pushed free from the wall she had been leaning against, continuing her path through the halls of the complex. She had long since passed the areas she was used to... Frankly, she rarely came up this high. It was for executives, and ones she definitely didn''t work for... Though it was only about a floor above Judas''s, so maybe they were of the same importance.


    Maybe.


    Speaking of the executives, where were they all? Where was anyone, or anything? She turned down a hallway lined with glass panes, windows to the city, and had an idea. Maybe it was the Day of the Dead? In a move often regarded as ''ill-advised'', ''insensitive'', or just ''tactless'', Tsang put on a city-wide festival every year for the Day of the Dead. Tsang Solutions had no cultural ties to the holiday; the owner of the place, the legendary Zichen Tsang, was from the remnants of China. No one said it aloud, but everyone silently knew and agreed - it was a marketing move, a publicity stunt.


    In the city of the dead, the Day of the Dead made altogether too much sense, though the actual purpose of the festival was heavily glossed-over in favor of hyperfixation on sugar skulls and mystery-meat tacos. It was anything but the right time of year for it... But the orange glow was unusual enough that maybe Tsang had figured out something else. Christmas, but Kris Kringle was a vampire, and that''s how he was so fast and smart? A sleigh pulled by dutiful little ghouls? Toys hand-made by zombies in sweatshops reminiscent of Tsang''s own factories?


    The idea made EJ snort, a grin drawing itself across her face. Then it made her sad... It was a little too believable, all things considered. She could see it now: Tsang parading a beautiful, muscular vampire through the streets in red (and black) velvets... Standing proudly on an ebony-coloured sleigh trimmed with gold, tossing out gift cards in great big present boxes to a hungry crowd...


    Eugh. Esper James fought the urge to spit in disgust, but then decided she was justified - a thick, wet loogie splattered against the carpeting. She ground it in with the toe of her heels. She realized she hadn''t seen any mirrors recently, actually... Normally a regular decoration in the higher levels of Tsang, if only for the novelty of it in relation to vampires, she hadn''t even seen a broken one. A quick self-inspection revealed she was in her normal workday attire: white button-up, black bra and boyshorts, dress pants, and high heels. It was comforting to be in something so familiar, so normal... Even now, a week or so out from her work at Tsang, she missed dressing up.


    Suddenly, she felt a compulsion to go look out the window - stronger than before, as if she was being ordered. Simple curiosity couldn''t encourage her to this degree, though she also didn''t try to fight it... Typical of her, not even trying to resist orders. This time the order was from her brain, of course, but what did it matter? She took another step forward, now in line with the window itself, able to see out - and immediately, she nearly doubled over in shock and terror.


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    The city was ablaze.


    Every part of it. Only the streets were spared, and even then, only some parts of them. Whole housing complexes had gone up like stacks of printer paper thrown to a bonfire; skyscrapers leaned and screamed with shattering glass and superheated metal, twinkling like God''s most horrible sparklers. On the streets, people ran like ants from a hive in a rainstorm: frantic, helpless, and unaware of the futility of it all. Whole sections of asphalt shifted and flowed like lava, or seemed to at first blush: a second look revealed that it was just a trick of the light. Shrieking, sprinting bodies engulfed in flame had that effect en-masse.


    It was horrible. Horrible felt like an understatement, even - atrocious? Cataclysmic? Apocalyptic? Abhorrent? Even these felt too weak to describe how EJ felt about seeing Vitus burn. She had, of course, said she''d like to see this to Est and Purity... But that had been an exaggeration, a figure of speech! She didn''t literally want to see the city in flames! Flames brought true death, as well... No one would ever come back from this. The charred corpses that lined the streets would never wake from their carbonized sleep.


    She hadn''t wanted this... She would never wish this on anyone. Even Judas... Cruel, hateful Judas. She was probably down there, too, roasting alive - stoic as ever, more pissed off that she was dying than scared or distraught. If she was truly dead, she couldn''t order anyone around anymore... She couldn''t humiliate, or degrade, or dominate. She''d just be another pile of cinders in the city''s burn pile. The same was true of everyone else she knew - a fact she faced with tears in her eyes and on her shirt, streaming down as quickly as they formed.


    Purity... There was no way she could escape this. She didn''t deserve this. No one did, of course, but still... Purity had been so nice. So comforting, so calm, so... lovely. In the moment of her death, EJ truly, fully forgave her - for trying to coerce her into sex, for treating her selfishly, for manipulating her in the ways that she did. Even sending her fucking cum back to Tsang for whatever fucked-up testing they had in mind? That was forgiven. How could it not be? None of it would matter anymore...


    She forgave Esthrielle for her own sins: for killing other second-living, for abusing her when they had first met, for being a bit of a snarky bitch sometimes. That last point was pretty minor; the former was pretty major, though, so they evened out. Maybe Est was alive, deep beneath the city somewhere, in one of the convents... She thought back to the convent that Luca had taken them to. She couldn''t really remember what had happened there... Or what it was like, except the dorms... But she knew it was nice. She knew that Est would be safe there.


    Maybe Purity was with her. God, EJ could only hope they were both there, safe and sound.


    She thought of the others she had met: Alex, Cinna, Roth, that Russian guy Purity knew. Kristoff, she thought. Each of them had to be dead, too... Tsang was empty, so Alex was gone; Cinna was probably burning to death outside that shitty bathhouse. Roth would have died in the Jezze, EJ hoped... Died at the place he loved. Kristoff? Who the fuck knew where he was... Maybe he had been cooking up more human meat in his shitty little restaurant. Anger wrapped and encased her sorrow like foil around a potato, and like a potato, it was all getting baked in the heat.


    She thought then of Kell. The industrial park of the city was positively engulfed in flame, of course - swallowed almost wholly in the immolation. Factories both living and dead joined together to feed the pyre. EJ''s eyes drifted over to where they had been staying... The empty husk of a factory she had briefly called home. It was a pile of rubble, charred black, completely unsalvageable. Scarlets and oranges flickered across the ghoul''s vision, the smog of the Vitus sky replaced with hundreds of thousands of souls condemned to be smoke. She hoped Kell had at least died easy.


    And then... her vision flashed. The fires flickered out for just a moment - everything was still burnt to a crisp, the people who still clung to life screamed and writhed on the streets below, but the flames were gone. They came back a millisecond later, everything proceeding as it had been already... But that sorrow in EJ''s heart, the growing sense of despair? She frowned, scowled even, brows pitching down to make her displeasure known.


    No, no, no, no. She had seen enough shitty sci-fi movies to know a hologram when she saw one. The city wasn''t actually on fire, was it? These probably weren''t even real windows. She straightened her back and cleared her throat; her right leg wound back, her body perched on the left. The sole of her foot kissed upon the glass pane''s corner with all the force her little body could muster - ghoulish strength empowered the blow, but it still wasn''t as impressive as it could''ve been. However, from the way the pane disconnected at the corner, she figured it was enough.


    The sound and sensation of wind came through the gap where the window had been - it reeked of smoke, and that smoke stunk of burning flesh and plastic and paint. It was a horrid, acrid, pungent scent... But that was fine. Probably just made in a lab, right? That''s what Esper James told herself as she kicked the next corner of the pane free, going then to push on the top with both hands. The translucent sheet that had once been sand was transformed into oversized confetti, a singular slip of material dropped for the city''s going-away party.


    Wind whipped and howled into the hallway now, roaring and moaning, sending decor clattering to the ground. Potted plants crashed to the tiled floor beside the carpet; sconces kept blazing, their digital lights immune to the gale-force winds. Esper James took a singular deep breath, stepping up to the edge of the windowsill. Her tie smacked her in the face once, twice, thrice as she tried to look solemnly over the burning cityscape - she ripped it free and let it get caught in the wind. Fucking piece of shit was ruining her moment.


    Weight was set upon left - duty was set upon right. A step forward into the nothingness was all it took, and she was tumbling, head over feet over head again, eyes shut to keep the stinging smoke and air from making her even more uncomfortable. It wouldn''t matter soon, anyways, if this fire was real. She began to consider that as she fell... A weight being composed in the center of her chest, feeling like an anchor was tied to her sternum. What if this was all real? What if she was about to die, permanently?


    Her mind first went to coping. She was a little girl who loved to cope, frankly. Her coping mechanism of choice was telling herself that maybe, just maybe, it was better this way. She had accomplished pretty much everything she had wanted in life: she had her own apartment, a high-paying job (relatively), a beautiful girlfriend (a pair of them), and she wouldn''t die a Tsang employee. That was everything that mattered on her bucket list, pretty much - she''d never have had the time to write a book, anyways, much less star in a porno or meet the president.


    Perhaps it was better to think that she had done the realistic parts of her bucket list. Still, though, pretty good - and she could die proud, at least in theory. She briefly wondered if Purity could have set up the porno thing... But no, no. She was about to crash into the pavement, and go to sleep, and never wake up again. There were better things to think about than dreams that would never come true.


    She took a deep breath and waited... And waited... And waited. The impact never came, nor did her trajectory seem to change. What the fuck. She opened her eyes then, finally risking it - and was shocked to find herself falling through air, still down the side of the building. However, the further she fell, the further the ground seemed to stretch away from her... At this rate she''d never hit the ground, just be condemned to this purgatory forever. That was fucked up. This whole thing was fucked up, in fact.


    She scowled again, crossing her arms, the added weight to her torso making her spin even faster. This was not how shit worked. She didn''t care what reality you lived in, or what kind of movies you had seen, or books you had read, or games you had played. This shit wasn''t real. She opened her mouth and screamed in frustration, now just wishing she was dead if only to be free from the monotony of perpetual falling. "Hey, fucker! I don''t really know who I''m addressing, or why, but fuck you! God?! Is that you, are you doing this to me? Fuck you! This is stupid!"


    And just like that, she began to fall again. She tumbled down towards the asphalt at lightspeed, it felt; the lengthened tower shortened to meet her as she fell, and in only a few seconds, she was maybe fifteen feet from touchdown. Enough time for one last, quick "Fuck." before she hit the ground. It didn''t hurt, at least - just felt like she was being slammed into a mattress.


    -


    Esper James awoke with a start, pissed the hell off and more than a bit confused. Where was she? Looking around in the darkness showed the dorm she had fallen asleep in... The women she had buried herself in... The bed she had occupied. She was still in the convent. Vitus was anything but burning; she hadn''t been at Tsang HQ in the first place. She''d been here the whole time... It had just been a bad dream... One that started off sad, but frankly? Now she was just cranky.


    She nestled herself down into her lovers'' bodies, a poker player with her pair of Queens. It did help, actually... Helped her rage abate, and her heart calm down. She was just about to close her eyes once again, to try for a dream that didn''t make her wake up angry, when the lights flicked on.


    Angelien stood at the door, eyes half-lidded in a look of placid disdain. The nun''s habit looked pretty natural on her, in the same way that a candle seemed a natural accoutrement for a pumpkin: unnatural in a literal sense, but natural by association. She spoke immediately, not giving anyone time to wake up. "Up now, all of you. Come on. We''ve prepared a... ''Dinner'' for you. Something special for the carnivore, and normal food for the humans. Get dressed and meet me in the hallway - don''t take too long. Mother abbess gets upset when the food is cold before it''s even served."


    Fuck. She woke up angry, and now she had to deal with this bullshit.


    <div>


    <div>

 Act Three (Ch. 54) - Medical Haste; or, Reverse Baptism

    Up the girlies got, then - Purity looking as fresh and renewed as always, Esthrielle looking particularly vigorous and upbeat. Shocking what a night of emotional catharsis, physical validation, and shared comfort can do to a person. Oh, also the sex, y''know. A good fuck always has people waking up with new pep in their step, ready to face the world anew.


    Esper James crawled out of bed, the light sweat on her skin instantly beginning to cool. Purity rolled lazily from her side of the shared bed, still wearing the nun''s habit, though it was now in desperate need of a cleaning. Esthrielle, in her own right, hopped up and out quite literally: coiling her lower body back on itself before projecting it like a released spring, transitioning the kip-up into a confident stand. She didn''t seem to care that she was bare as the day of her birth, but then again, why would she? It wasn''t like it wasn''t anything the other bedroom attendees hadn''t seen before.


    Esper James, even in her anger at her own dreaming mind, took a few moments to watch the other two. Her eyes were fixated on the graceful way Purity stripped down and donned a newer, wrinkle free habit; the suppressed enthusiasm for a new day Est had, grinning from ear to ear with her steely teeth, kicking her old clothes aside. It was... well, honestly, it was a lot. It nearly overwhelmed the little ghoulette, just watching her lovers exist, live and breathe and move in such natural, effortless ways. It almost felt normal. Normal like things had been a little over a week ago... Normal like waking up for work. Normal like Tsa-


    She nearly punched herself at that, disgust rising with the force of a space-bound rocket. It took every ounce of ghoulish endurance and determination to not audibly retch at that line of thinking. Maybe, in a different world, things could have - would have - been different. Maybe, in a different timeline out there, she and Purity and Est could have been together in some sort of mild domestic bliss. Waking up together, rolling out of bed, going to go get waffles or pancakes...


    Esper James held back the dry heave, but when she felt herself start a dreamy sigh at the fantasy, she allowed it without question. Three girls against the world, trying their best to make it and survive the day. Corporate dystopia almost didn''t seem that bad, when the other side of the coin was hellish persistence in a world that seemed to hate you.


    Her post-waking reverie was cut short by a sudden wad of fabric smacking her in the face - what it lacked in force, it more than made up for in its ability to instantly remove her sight. It was hard to zone out when everything suddenly went black. The blonde fell backwards onto the bed, fumbling with the cotton lump, pulling the mass of black and white textile from her face. Once it was drawn away, she looked over at her gal pals, readying to give it a return-to-sender stamp. However, she stopped in her tracks after a second, even with Puri giggling at her and having blatantly been the offending party.


    This one, that Puri had thrown her, was distinctly smaller than the rest of the habits they''d seen so far. None of the ones in the wardrobes had been this petite, this short, this... Perfectly sized for her? Numerous warning bells and worrying questions arose within EJ''s sleep-mired brain, but the fugue of recent awakening was more than enough to keep them just below the surface. She could tell that it was weird, but maybe they just hadn''t noticed this habit at first?


    She saw Purity''s giggling begin to die down into a warm, affectionate smile. The girl closest to her own humanity took a few steps towards the bed, swaying her hips absentmindedly - even in a habit that was a little too big, she still seemed to fill out the ass and upper torso of it well. Puri took a seat on the edge of the bed beside her second-living lover, beginning her inquisition with a single raised brow. When that didn''t work, and EJ stayed clammed up, the other woman was forced to inquire aloud.


    "EJ, what''s wrong, babe? You look like you just learned sinewdles aren''t made from real sinew, just repurposed cartilage." Purity''s right hand went out to rest upon EJ''s thigh; for once, it was devoid of any sort of intimate subtext. Her concern was real, undoubtedly, even if it was hidden behind a layer of playfulness. EJ took a second to respond.


    Actions speak a thousand words - and so EJ began her explanation by placing the somewhat-less-wadded-now wad of cloth onto her lover''s lap. She then gestured to it with her left hand, looking down as she did, then back up to Purity. "Feel that. Look at it closely. It''s small. Like, short, sure, but it''s also really thin. Really slender. Like... like they had-" A few more words came, but Est''s voice towered overtop of them as she interjected herself into the conversation.


    "Oh, like they had a new one made? They did, yeah - Luca told me last night in DMs. Told me that they didn''t have anything in your size, and asked what your measurements were. I, uh, haha, I did double-duty while, y''know... Used my hands to estimate your proportions..." She trailed off, pantomiming the not-so-subtle groping from their previous evening. After a few moments of silent, bewildered stares from the peanut gallery, Esthrielle shrugged. "I''m efficient, if nothing else. Never waste an opportunity, yeah?"


    While EJ felt confused, impressed laughter began to trickle up her throat, Purity launched into a full-on guffaw. She cackled hard enough to double over, laughing loud enough for the three of them all on her own. EJ joined in then, Purity''s mirth bolstering her own, and eventually Est followed suit. It was a surprising gesture, EJ thought - to even consider the ghoul''s material needs in the first place, much less get something custom-made for her. One point for the Knights, she had to admit.


    Laughter died away after some brief moments, each woman remembering why they were getting up and dressed at all: food. Esthrielle and Purity were doing admirably, hustling without seeming too excited; EJ, by contrast, was ravenous. She hadn''t eaten a home-cooked meal in what felt like centuries... One of the last specially prepared things she could remember consuming was from when Purity had introduced her to Alex and Kristoff. She put the thought from her head quickly, however - she didn''t want to think about cannibalism in the heart of a church.


    Though, even considering the thought enough to realize she didn''t want to consider it made her stomach rumble. She had had meat recently, sure, but she hadn''t had blood in a little while. The urge to consume the vitae of the first-living had been strong at first, strong every time she forgot or missed her pills, stronger still after going cold turkey on those same pills.


    As the days ticked by and Purity and Est fed her with more regularity, though, that desire to kill and eat another person waned. At this point? She felt like she could probably go a few days at a time without any kind of human meat or blood - though she still craved it... She shuddered, imagining the sorts of things she might be convinced to do if fresh meat was on the line. Her mind''s eye started to whip through snapshot memories of the night at the manse, with Est.


    Not with Est, of course, but... the cat from her dreams. It had tasted so good... So... indescribably human. That still ate at her with the same gusto she had put towards eating the feline in question, but it was a matter to reflect on later. And then that guy, that Tsang officer who had stopped them in the street. Imagining him now? Remembering the rush of his blood down her throat, the way his meat gushed that delicious, sanguine nectar with every bite? The undeniable, white-hot, feral fucking thrill of pouncing on him and just... sinking her teeth in... It had been somewhere bordering on erotic, in a way. Sensual. Intimate.


    To eat the flesh of another was to know them at their deepest, basest level, and to come back for seconds.


    "...uh, EJ? You''re drooling, dude..." Another soft ball of discarded cloth was pitched at EJ''s face - this time, it was Esthrielle''s HATEFUCK tank top. The scent of Est''s body oil immediately lit a fire within the little ghoul, and she was instantly brought back to her first feeding with the Italian. That had been nice. Comfortable. Simple. It was those things with both her lovers, of course, but she wasn''t exactly being given an in-your-face reminder of the way Purity''s sweat smelled, was she?


    The drool on her lower lip was wiped away, using the offending garment to clean it up. Broken from her blood-clouded reverie by both Est''s voice and her scent, EJ threw the thing aside and finally got herself out of bed, swinging her legs over the side and hopping to her feet. The other piece of apparel, the habit, was donned awkwardly - with Puri and Est both watching Esper James struggle to figure it out before finally deciding to assist. After some helping hands were offered and then retracted, the three ladies were dressed.


    If Esper James hadn''t still been so mad in the background of her mind, beneath the layer of grave dirt that was her blood-hunger, she might''ve thought they looked comical. A woman with the physique of a professional kickboxer, a woman who looked like she was born to do porn, and their stupid little girlfailure blonde walk into a nunnery... There was more to that joke, but EJ didn''t care enough to actually consider what it may be.


    Est spoke up first, she being the most confident within the convent''s confines. "A''ight, ladies, let''s go get some chow. Now, just, uh... Be on your best behavior, please. Don''t embarrass yourselves, or, ah, me. I know most of these people on a first-name basis. I''d rather not have Ludmilla pull me aside in the hallway to discuss my unruly friends, yeah?"


    The intonation she put on ''friends'' immediately made something clear to the other two: despite all the secularization that had happened over the years, all the so-called progress the Catholic Church had made, they still seemed to be staunchly against homosexuality. That would make certain things hard, make certain stories difficult to tell... and while Purity felt the loss of access in a way akin to forgetting something funny one would want to tell their friend, EJ''s nerves pierced her.


    They rose like kudzu on a residential building, climbing their way up to her heart and entangling themselves around it. It was one thing to not be gay for another woman; it was another entirely to restrain oneself from displaying affection to ones so deeply engrained in your love center. Hell, even if she just wanted to hold Esthrielle or Purity''s hands, she couldn''t. A scary thought, to say the least.


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    Purity interjected, pulling the words of apprehension straight from Esper James''s worry-wracked brain. "So... is this a ''we''re just friends'' sort of thing, or...? Because I''m sure God wouldn''t approve of all the girlies I''ve been with, if that''s the case." She stared at Est as she waited for an answer, crossing her arms halfway from curiosity, halfway from standoffishness. EJ neglected to join in and give Purity her support, but from the silence that filled the room, it was obvious where her thoughts laid. Est realized after a few moments of utter quiet what she had said.


    Immediately, she began to scramble for something to say. "N-No! It''s not like that! The Church promotes relationships of all forms nowadays... It''d be problematic if they didn''t! People would take to the streets! It''s just that, uh... Look, honestly, it''s a comfort thing for me." She sighed, looking at her feet for a second before shifting her gaze to the floor nearest them. "I don''t really want any of them to know what I''ve got going on in my life, you know? Separation of work life and personal life. I''ll kiss you both in front of them, if you really want..."


    Purity''s skeptic expression blossomed almost immediately into a mild, supportive smile. She stepped over to Esthrielle and threw an arm around her with all the casual swagger of a pick-up artist moving on a mark. "Nah, nah, I''m just fucking with you, Est. Mostly. I''m mostly fucking with you. I''ll only be really pissed if they start trying to tell me we can''t share a bed or something." She leaned down to plant her lips on Esthrielle''s flawless face, pink puckered lips to soft umber skin. Est continued to look at the floor, but her shoulders visibly relaxed.


    EJ meandered over and took the both of them by the wrist, starting to pull them towards the doorway. There was a reluctance to leave the little love-nest they had created for themselves - even once they were at the door they drug their feet and made small, impotent excuses about why they didn''t want to leave. First, Purity needed to find some socks to wear; then, EJ didn''t want to leave without making the bed. Eventually, after the third ''one second I think I dropped my phone under the covers'', Est took them by the hand and forced them to head out into the hall. Once they were there, though, EJ was glad that she had.


    Even here, so far from that distant dining hall, the scent of cooked flesh hung heavy and savoury in the air. EJ felt like she could practically taste the spices that the aroma carried with it; it only served to intensify her greed for meat. She had to actively focus on not starting to drool again - a task made more difficult by her proximity to warm, living flesh.


    EJ was silent, then, for the entire walk to the mess hall. Purity wasn''t quite so reserved; instead, she made little comments to herself about the interesting things they passed by. Every saintly icon hung high upon the wall was rated on a one-to-ten scale; every little nook or cranny bedecked in religious iconography was touched upon, literally and figuratively. Esthrielle had to stop their trio and say something to the pinkette, otherwise they''d arrive at the mess with twenty little porcelain figures in Puri''s hands.


    Finally, after a walk that felt longer than it was for all women in attendance, they arrived at a huge pair of hardwood doors. The doors were opened just a crack, and light poured out from the break in its hiding place. Alongside the light, of course, came the scent of food. The food in question was pretty obviously just steak with aromatics; however, it had been more than a while since EJ and Purity had sunk their teeth into a real steak, made by a real cook. EJ''s tummy rumbled its enthusiasm.


    Est stopped them at the door, turning towards the other two so to better address them. "Alright... there''ll be like, twenty people in there. Plus Luca, plus the mother abbess, so... so please, at least wait until we say grace to start digging in, yeah?" The pleading look on Est''s face spoke of a new kind of emotion that her partners hadn''t yet had the misfortune to witness: factional discomfort.


    EJ could understand the sentiment. When she had worked at Tsang, she had ever even made an attempt to befriend her coworkers, much less have them at dinner. She wouldn''t have been able to bear having one of them see how Judas ordered her around... What she could get the vulnerable and lonely ghoulette to do, with only a kiss on the forehead in return... The very idea of having someone who she saw regularly for work see her acting like a little toy for her boss would''ve been too much.


    Purity simply nodded, saying nothing, but straightening her posture out of respect for Est''s worries. EJ followed suit - hands were placed behind backs, those backs were held upright and awake, and any hint of joy was cleansed from their countenances. They were ready for their big debut to the actual nuns, though it did make EJ a little uncomfortable to be wearing a habit when doing so. A deep breath, reminding herself that ''when in Rome'', and then the door was laboriously pulled aside.


    The dining hall was opulent, to say the least. More real, genuine wood was found herein - all the tables were a deep, rich mahogany, lacquered to darken them up even further. The floor was tile, though a long red carpet ran from the hall''s entrance, down the middle of the rectangular room, and out through a side door. And now, here, at the threshold, the scent of fresh food was overwhelming.


    EJ did a very quick head count as they stepped inside. Two-dozen women sat at the long wooden tables, each sat upon a similarly long bench that ran alongside. Their plates were piled high with steak, a side of asparagus and bread seemingly included with every helping. The air held a savory, umami-laced tang to it that spoke of the flavors found on each woman''s plate; an underflow of butter and garlic punched through at the last moment of every whiff.


    EJ could almost taste it.


    As they stepped in, though, the whole mess fell silent. Every nun in attendance turned their head to look at the newcomers - their expressions were by and large those of someone whose meal has been interrupted by a stray animal. Esthrielle didn''t bring her entourage forwards at first, the pressure of the situation planting her on the spot. A few disconcerting seconds ticked by, those stares feeling even more pointed as they went on. However, after nearly ten seconds had gone by, a familiar voice spoke from the crowd.


    "Hello, guests of honor! Come, come, your seat is over here, with me. Don''t mind the ladies here - we all sometimes forget that some in attendance can''t simply tune-in to our secured channel. As for the rest of you, again, please be courteous to our guests. They cannot speak as we can; I would ask that you speak aloud for the rest of dinner."


    Luca''s voice cut the silence like a butcher cuts meat, and one by one, the nuns began to openly acknowledge that there were two-and-a-half new women in their midst. Some waved; others simply said hello; others still scooched aside, so that the new girls might find a place to all be seated together. However, once the convent was finished with their greetings, the nobleman began again.


    "Here, come sit with me. I have some questions for you, Esper James; I''m sure plenty of others here do as well, but we can get to those in time." Luca gestured from where he sat - to his credit, it was unnecessary. The long, flowing purple robe he now wore was enough to set him apart from the rest of the crowd. Est began to move towards him, and the open seats beside him, without question; the other two women followed suit without so much as a peep.


    Once they had arrived at the table where Luca was eating, and had taken their seats, Luca spoke anew. This time, however, the tone was more hushed, more deliberate in its desire to be a bit more discreet. "Esper James, here; I''ve had the convent cook make up a special order just for you. Give it a moment, and I''m sure you''ll like it." Luca''s infectious grin appeared once more, immediately taking effect - Est, at least, did her best to emulate him.


    Esper James nodded to acknowledge him; as Est had said, she was trying to fit in as best she could. Almost as soon as they had sat properly and settled in were platters of food distributed to the newcomers. Alongside some cups of water that were distributed to the table, diners were also given a small loaf of crusty white bread, some of the aforementioned asparagus, and a sizable glass of red wine. Purity opted against the red wine, giving her hand a gentle, noncommittal wave from side to side; Est was more than happy to take what she was given.


    No platter was brought for EJ, though - at least, not right away. Luca cleared his throat, and within a moment, an auditory-enhancer assisted voice said grace. Then, once it was done, everyone dove straight into their food and began to eat. Everyone save for EJ, that is. Just as she was about to say something, however, their patron''s eyes caught upon something coming from the side door. He said nothing, but smiled like a Cheshire cat, all the way up until someone reached around from the ghoul''s blind spot and placed a bowl before her.


    "Oh, and here is your special dinner, Esper James. Please, enjoy - and if there''s anything you''d like to be made, we can accommodate it, I''m sure. I would like your stay here, brief though it may be, to be as enlightening as possible." Luca smiled down at her, gesturing naively to the bowl which lay before the blonde. EJ, on the other hand, had scant ever felt her throat catch and her body tense so fast.


    Within the bowl, chunks of barely-seared meat floated or bobbed in a thick red broth. No herbs at all were to be found; just meat and broth, with nothing on the side. It was certainly big enough to do without a side, but... then the scent of it hit her. Wine. Red wine. The entire bowl was at least half-full of the stuff, judging by smell alone... though whereas that initial tannin-laced assault struck her with the back of its hand, the other half of the aroma caressed her with a velvet glove.


    The hot scent of copper and iron ripped through the air from bowl to nose like lightning sent back up from earth, and it was every bit as electrifying.

 Act Three (Ch. 55) - Liebe ist fur Alle Da; or, Planned Obsolescence

    The stares dug into EJ''s skin like the scalpels of a morgue-tech.


    Everyone felt like they were fucking staring at her all of a sudden - everyone at the table that EJ was sat at, at least. Luca continued to eat, though his expectant gaze never left the blonde. Est and Purity, too, had taken notice of the fucking soup bowl their shared loved had been served - Est looked like she wanted to say something, and Puri just looked nauseous. The pinkette slung an arm around EJ, pulling her in for a one-armed embrace.


    Some of the other nuns had started to look, too - they said nothing, making nearly no sounds at all even as they ate, simply watching Esper James contemplate the bowl of soup. Soup was a generous name for it, frankly; more of a stew, if anything. EJ, however, didn''t give a damn about what constituted a soup or a stew in that moment.


    Her heart felt like it was smelting. She wanted to dive into it so badly, the unmistakable scent of fresh blood drawing her in like a magnet. But, on the other hand? All these fucking Easterners were watching her like hawks. It went without saying that... if she ate it, she''d have a reaction. She''d start to get blood-drunk, her muscles would spasm, her eyes would dilate like a cat.. She''d be filled with both an excess and an absence of energy... The ghoulette shuddered to even think of it.


    After a solid minute of her staring into the soup bowl, Luca spoke up. "Ah, miss Esper James... I do hope I didn''t offend. I''ve always been told how fond the second-living are of blood, and, well... we had an excess. You could consider it a favor on your part, to get rid of it for us." His smile wavered in its gusto, slipping between confident reassurance and noted worry. He coughed, though it seemed more to fill the silence than anything else. "The, ah, the meat? It''s pork, I promise. From a butcher. We buy fresh."


    His words weren''t exactly the sterling vote of confidence EJ needed in that moment to still her own quivering heart, but they didn''t hurt. The way his voice seemed to lose its measured pitch, for naught but a moment, did at least show some genuine concern. EJ looked up, swapping her focus to her partners. Purity was just as she was expected to be: somewhere between a frown and a pout, brows furrowed, lips pursed. She seemed as though she wanted to sweep Esper James up and away, drag her off to anywhere but here.


    Then, Esthrielle. Esthrielle''s own expression, and the whirl of emotions it conveyed, was more akin to a carnival-goer about to vomit. One could''ve imagined the words she held in her throat were blocking her windpipe, forcing her to gag. The Wayward''s eyes were locked on Luca, eyes flashing nearly imperceptibly; the LEDs flickered so subtly as to seem more like a shift in ambiance than actual activation. Esper James doubted that the Knights knew second-living could notice the little things like that.


    "Fff-... F-Fuck it." Esper James choked the words out so Est didn''t have to. Luca''s eyebrows raised, his smile breaking immediately; eyes widened, lips opened into a circular shape, his jaw dropping to accommodate. Purity, too, took on a look of surprise - Est, even, was snapped from whatever trance she was in.


    EJ grabbed the bowl with both hands and, before her observers could find the wherewithal to comment on her expletive, tipped back head and soup vessel both.


    The thick fluid that filled the bowl flowed down in an unbroken stream until EJ''s mouth was full, broken by the bowl''s angle being adjusted. While the bowl itself was righted, however, the ghoul was certainly wronged. Whatever the soup had been made of hit her instantly, coating her mouth in a substance that was all at once bitter, sour, electrifyingly savoury, and lush with umami. She had only a split second to mentally compare it to fish sauce before the texture of the meat hit her.


    It was pork. That was true, at least. Luca hadn''t been lying about the pork. Porcine flesh added a notably creamy, flavourful undertone to the entire dish. It would have reminded EJ of mett, if she had had the time to form such a thought; instead, she felt herself immediately draw out of her own body, her soul zoning back to see the world through a microscope''s lens. She felt like she was viewing everything through third person and in extreme detail in equal measure, every hair on her body standing on end in an instant.


    Blood. Blood. Blood. It had been blood, of fucking course it had been blood, it practically reeked of the stuff. Like, yes, it was human blood - Luca had said that, after all. But this blood was... euphoric in a way all its own? The mixture of alcoholic tang and bloodborne ecstasy struck her soul like a sledgehammer blow, knocking her metaphorically back on her ass even as it dragged her forwards. Sharpened fangs minced pigflesh like it was confetti paper, a greedy throat gulping down every ounce of the stuff even as she screamed in her own head to slow down.


    Deep breaths weren''t enough. Every time she had fed off of Purity, or even Est, it had never been like this - never confined her consciousness to its own little pocket dimension in this way. The mere seconds which passed between her first mouthful and the ferocious second were as if hours to the ghoul''s perception, time seeming to slow down just to focus more on what she had been given.


    And then, the bowl raised directly to her lips with speed rivaling a bullet, the physical caught up with the mental. She became distantly aware of her entire body lighting up like a fucking Christmas tree, the sensations she had become accustomed to hitting harder than they ever had. Her muscles spasmed; her eyes twitched. Her organs kicked into absolute overdrive, her stomach the engine that powered her organic machinery.


    Not even sex could have compared. Even her night with Judas, the first one, where the vampire had been so sweetly sadistic, so lovingly cruel... it hadn''t had this effect on her, nothing even close. The finest blood in all the world surely lay within this bowl. Somewhere far beyond her mind''s purview, people were speaking to her - shouting, then screaming. Physicality came next, hands on her shoulders, shaking her carefully but firmly. She didn''t even care what they were saying, or who was addressing her.


    She just needed whatever was in this bowl.


    Gulp after gulp came hot and heavy, meat and malus flowing down her throat to fuel the furnace within. And then, in what was in retrospect likely seconds flat, it was empty. There was no more blood. No more meat. No more to eat; no more to consume, to devour, to absorb. She was deep beneath scarlet waves, drowning silently, able to see the light of the sun but never able to reach it.


    The obscene, indulgent feeling of it all was like standing before a tidal wave. She yearned for it even as it crashed into her with force incomparable. Within her head, all she could imagine was what it would be like to feel this way perpetually - to burn eternal, as blisteringly bright and horridly hot as a funeral pyre for the whole globe. She realized, after some seconds, she was trying to lick the bowl; someone was stopping her, pulling at it strongly from the other side, their hands bloodied from contact with the remnants.


    Perception turned to mush, mentality melted to slag, her very being was burning to ash. She hated that she loved it, but loved that she hated that she loved it. Blinking. She was blinking then - her eyes were dry from an unbroken stare into the bowl. Every part of her was mustered to try and focus on the world outside her own red-soaked paradise, and what was found therein was exactly the world she had left behind. Nuns surrounded her on all sides; they didn''t touch her, didn''t get too close, but they were watching intently.


    Luca had a vice grip on the bowl, getting blood all over his hand - his brows were bent downwards to crease his eyes, the strain of exerting such a herculean effort weighing itself upon his face. However, despite this, he was smiling. A real, honest-to-God smile, too. There were more hands around her, on her - a darting of the gaze told her who held her now.


    Purity was crying, arms wrapped around her waist, body trying to shield the ghoulette from the crowd; Est had her own powered prosthetics upon both of EJ''s biceps, pushing them back and down with every ounce of strength she could imbue into the act. Whereas Purity had been crying, Esthrielle was furious - she alternated between barking at Luca, the assembled sisters, and EJ. While her face was a mask of rage, however, there was a deep sort of sadness within her eyes.


    Both of her beloveds were sad. Why? What was wrong? Everything was great; everything felt amazing. The soft textile touch of her custom habit was sweeter than the finest silks, and feeling her lovers'' touch through it? Their warmth? Good fucking God, they were so warm. Esper James could have died right then and died happy, so why were they so upset?


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    Est''s mouth opened wider than before, wider than was necessary for speech. What was she doing? Was she going to have some of the soup, too? Was she going to indulge in this sensation, this cacophony of sensory delight? Maybe they''d fuck again... Oh, having sex when she was like this? That was an exciting idea - and EJ was already hard! God, maybe some of the nun girls would join in, too - it''d be just like something she had seen in a douji-


    Sharp pain combined with thrilling, unspeakable bliss. Est plunged her steely fangs into EJ''s neck, just above her collarbone, instantly drawing a thick black flow like pooling oil. EJ whined and cried out like a bitch in heat, vision blurring into mosaic forms; the world became fractalized, the warmth in the air skyrocketing even as her skin went cold. That bite... it was something nice to focus on, wasn''t it? But why would Esthrielle bite her? Why would...


    Oh, fuck.


    The chemical cocktail in her brain was replaced by fresh, hot adrenaline. This pain drew her out of where she lay within that sanguine sea, an escape rope dropped out of desperation as much as courtesy. EJ gasped in a breath so deep it felt like her lungs were fit to burst. As quickly as it had come, the grip on her brainstem crumbled away.


    The flurry of realizations that came, then, hit EJ as potently as a prize fighter''s trained fists. Purity was crying. Est was desperate and upset. Luca''s smile had even begun to fade, and everyone was fucking watching her have this little episode. Everyone could see her tenting her shitty little cosplay habit like a needy slut. Everyone could see her making an absolute mess of herself - not a literal mess, but a social mess. She was a disaster, wasn''t she?


    And once she had finally surfaced, she, too, began to cry. Tears welled and flowed in a process so streamlined one could have imagined she had the twin-trails of sorrow ready ahead of time. Her hearing returned last, but she wasn''t surprised in the least by what she heard. The bowl in her hands clattered to the table as she released her grip on it, Luca''s pool of now unmatched force sending it slamming off of the tablecloth to shatter against the floor.


    "Esper James! Esper James, please, can you hear us? Calm down! Calm down, please, we''re sorry! We didn''t know that this would happen to you, please, take a deep breath!" Luca''s normally dulcet tones were now flecked with the tremble of genuine worry; the smile that had once been plastered on his statuesque face now lay in ruin, a real sadness having taken residence in its absence. He didn''t even care about the bowl; didn''t give it a second thought. His focus was devoted entirely to EJ, it seemed.


    Purity sobbed even more loudly as the piece of dinnerware split to fragments against the stony floor; her embrace, already constricting to shame a California king, became even more crushing as EJ''s strength drained away. She pressed her face into the other side of EJ''s neck, the side Est wasn''t currently gum-deep in, nuzzling into her as needily as one possibly could. No words came from her, but that was for the best. It would have split EJ in twain if she had said anything.


    Esthrielle, too, had begun to cry: sobbing into EJ''s shoulder and neck, each one making her buried fangs jostle and draw a new wave of pleasing pain. She joined Purity in the EJ-embrace-sandwich they were making, her hands shakily moving away from EJ''s biceps only to throw her arms around the petite predator. Her fangs were pulled free, rent in truth, though her lips were never far from EJ''s body. Unlike Purity, she found the strength somewhere inside herself to speak up - if only in a timid, scared whisper.


    "E-EJ... Please... Calm down... L-Luca, he... He forgot that... He forgot that this happened when, w-when you... When..." And then nothing more, nothing but tears. Her breath was hot against EJ''s flesh, matching the heat of that inky fluid which ran from Esper James''s broken flesh.


    Esper James wished she could collapse. She yearned for nothing more than the chance to curl up into a ball and die, if only to save herself and her partners the pain of this whole situation. She tried to choke out some sort of apology, some kind of admittance of fault; shame burnt her cheeks and ears even as guilt punched her in the throat. Her mouth opened, it was true - but rather than words, or even a single coherent syllable, all that came forth was a single, pathetic warble. It drew out for longer than she wanted it to, but she couldn''t stop it.


    Luca was silent, then, simply panting from effort. His eyes shut with the same sort of solemnity as a father whose child has been subjected to a trauma that he couldn''t keep her safe from. Two strong, reassuring hands went to EJ''s biceps, squeezing her gently for a few seconds as the three women cried and the lone male gathered himself. Once he had built himself back up, or at least taken the time to reassemble his own tranquility, he gently laid his arms about the three broken girls.


    "Ladies, I... I will find a way to make up for this, I swear it. This was... never my intent. I can''t imagine... I can''t imagine what it was like, what it''s like even now. Please... I promise, I will right this wrong." His own head rested on Est''s, his forehead to her crown - the proximity made him lean against EJ, too. She didn''t mind; she didn''t even notice it enough to care in the first place, in truth.


    A new hand laid itself upon EJ''s torso - finding a place on her back to lay itself. Then another. Then another still. One by one, hand by hand, the women surrounding her offered touch - silently, gently, sorrowfully. Every nun who could reach put a palm on Esper James''s body - on her head, on her arms, on her head. An entire crowd of silent bodies, standing in a layered semicircle around their ghoulish guest. Quiet dominated the room for unbroken minutes; quiet, and the sound of sadness.


    EJ didn''t know how long she sat there and cried for. No one was keeping track, anyways - meals were left abandoned, drinks discarded, seats vacated. The entire populace of the convent seemed to have come together to try and still her aching heart, and once she was composed enough to open her eyes and even notice, it nearly sent her spiraling again. Through panting breaths and damp, desperate gasps, she raised her head to look around herself.


    Why were they doing this? Why were they even being nice to her at all? They hated the undead, right? And yet... Here they were, every single one, watching through emotionless eyes and offering no malice or disdain. Their eyes flickered in that same way Est''s had earlier, yes, but other than that? They were motionless, a field of statues to upstage the terra cotta army. Despite their reactionless faces, they clearly cared enough that they wanted to soothe her. That was...


    Gut-wrenching. Why was this always happening? Why did everyone seem to want to be nice to her? She didn''t deserve it; she was just a little secretary a week or two ago, slaving away for an abominable corporate dictatorship. She was a tool of the oppressors, and even now, she had just gulped down a whole bowl full of raw meat and human blood. Why did they give her any care at all?


    The sobs had since ceased, but a new onslaught of tears drew itself from her exhausted tear ducts. She wished she could shout; wished she could scream, if only to beg them to be cruel to her. It was what she had always known; it was what she had always received. She had come to expect the pain of it, like a bitter friend. She wished she could say anything at all... but words escaped her now just as they had then, all those moments of shame that had come before. A new voice came then, to break the silence in her stead.


    "Miss Esper James... Please, worry not. None among us will hold this against you. This was thrust upon you; it was not your choice to die."


    EJ''s head turned on a rusty, creaky swivel towards the voice''s originator. A young woman, barely nineteen by the look of her, was the source. Her long, silken brown hair fell in milk chocolate drizzles down the front of her habit from beneath her veil, flanking her chest. Her face was... placid, as every other nun''s was, but there existed a slight droop to the lids that EJ could only assume was some display of sympathy. If it was, it was just another gut-punch, treasured though it may be.


    EJ offered her a smile like a shattered stained-glass window, broken to pieces but with some tragic semblance of grace. It felt good to smile, in truth - but it felt just as wrong as everything preceding it had. Upon seeing EJ smile at her, the girl broke her tranquil facade - a smile, tinged with deep sadness, bloomed upon her lips. Her hand alone squeezed EJ''s shoulder in empathic encouragement, her grip as firm yet gentle as her words. The longer she stared into the woman''s coffee-coloured irises, with their LED underglow, the more the ghoulette believed her.


    "Please. Wipe your tears. You are safe here; you are as much a child of God as the rest of us. We should have known better."

 Act Three (Ch. 56) - Blood Ocean; or, Tooth and Nail

    Dinner slowly but surely was resumed, and at a normal-ish tempo. A shell-shocked Esper James was brought another plate, this time simply raw pork with a sprinkle of garlic salt and black pepper, hand-rubbed into the meat''s fibres. She picked at it slowly throughout the dining period, apprehensive of every single bite, though no further flesh sent her spiraling into the dissociative craze of earlier consumption. There was no more blood, either - the pork was, of course, exsanguinated at the butcher''s shop. Anything even resembling red fluid had been done away with.


    Purity and Esthrielle flanked Esper James with greater intensity than before. Purity slivered her steak into thin slices in a restrained fervor, making each piece bite-sized; once everything on her plate could be downed in a single chomp, she lent an arm to wrap around EJ''s waist. Est, too, took a one-handed approach to tonight''s dinner - but whereas Purity was practical, Esthrielle was more barbaric. Rather than slice her meat into slivers, she just stabbed her entr¨¦e in its center and took rough, flesh-rending mouthfuls away at will. They were both shaking, and for good reason.


    Est''s brain had been providing a steady slideshow of flashbacks to the other night, at the club, and at the manse. EJ had been so drunk... So far outside her own head that it was like she was a flesh automaton more than a person. The girl who had once been ''Esper James Price-Wynnfield'' was instead a mindless, thoughtless homunculus, something that had barely resembled a human being. Tonight had reminded her of that.


    Esthrielle licked her fangs as she remembered, one of the few brief memories she had of their time at the Jezzebelle: biting EJ. The way it had snapped her from her fugue; the way it had thrilled her, yes, sure, but that wasn''t the point. It had snapped her out of whatever fugue she had been immersed in, forcing her whole body to react. It had buckled her knees... It had sent her brain cascading back into her body, but it had also stolen control from her.


    It had pacified her.


    Now, with her tongue running over sharpened steel, Est sent her thoughts away from that whole night. She returned to the present. In the present, she considered the taste of EJ''s blood... that thick black fluid, ever-so-slightly grainy, as if it was heavily spiced stew, or impurity-riddled oil. Its taste was bitter and nearly noxious; it tasted of blood, sure, but foul blood run through a filth-ridden gutter. It made Est think of abattoir dregs.


    She sighed, pulling her tongue away from her fangs. It was a thought for later; and maybe she¡¯d even get some answers from the convent. They did say they were going to run some tests on EJ¡­ tests that, now that shit had hit the fan in a major way, Est had no intention of not overseeing. She was a Knight too - they owed her at least that much, right?


    Another sigh. The three of them were owed that much, she figured. Things had been so hectic, with barely any time to calm down and take a fucking breath¡­ It was without question that EJ needed it, but what about Purity? What about the white-haired wayward herself? It had been hammer-blow after hammer-blow, a constant repetition of repercussions for each and every action they seemed to make. It was getting old, she felt. It made her feel helpless - forced to just watch as they were dealt a shit hand, again and again. Why was Vitus like this?


    That was a question that would go unanswered, she feared. Maybe the second-living were fine, at least some of them, but this city was fucked. It changed people; it made everything that was supposed to be bliss into bane. She had tried to fight off her emotions for far too long now, spent way too much time and effort on suppressing herself. In an ironic way, she felt kinship with the second-living in that sense: living or dead, Western or Eastern, they all suppressed their true nature.


    Shit was fucked.


    Esthrielle pulled on EJ with the arm around the shorter girl¡¯s waist, squeezing her ever so much tighter into the already claustrophobic embrace. An ivory-haired head turned to regard the blonde, eyes downcast but lips restraining a sneer - not at EJ, but at their situation. This was her fault. She had been the one to convince EJ and Purity to come here; it had been her idea to get in contact with the Knights. Seeing Luca again was¡­ euphoric, in a lot of ways, but it didn¡¯t absolve her of the guilt of it all.


    She shut her eyes, sweeping away those dark emotions like so much dust. She¡¯d always been good at pushing her feelings away, she figured - now was the time to do so, if anything. When she opened them again, her gaze rested upon Purity.


    The pinkette¡¯s own expression was less a mask of placid, bitter restraint, and more of barely-contained outrage and despair. She could only guess at what the taller woman was thinking: was she mad at Luca? At the Knights? At Esthrielle? At herself? Of the two, Est hoped that Puri would be mad at her instead of internalizing that fury. The Wayward knew what such things did to a person¡¯s heart. Purity was sweet, maybe the most loving and gentle out of the three of them. She didn¡¯t deserve to blame herself.


    It would¡¯ve killed Est to know the truth of Purity¡¯s thoughts. In her mind and heart, she was furious - furious with the Knights, furious with Luca, and furious at herself. What the fuck had they given EJ? That brown-haired bitch was right: they should have known better. And yes, they''re foreigners, and yes, they supposedly hate the second-living, but shouldn''t you know about them if you hate them so much? If you''re willing to kill them, wouldn''t it make sense to have a solid knowledge of them, so you know why you hate them?


    Whatever. Purity shook her head, the thoughts flung free bodily. It was moot to think these things; what was done was done, and while she felt justified in her anger, she also didn''t want to seem like a bitch about it. EJ was okay; Est was okay; she was okay. Everything was going to be okay. There was no use in clinging to it like a bitter fuck. At least, that''s what she told herself.


    Her hand squeezed EJ for a moment, silently reminding the ghoulette that she and Est were here. Words unspoken said a lot: that they''d never let something like this happen again; that they didn''t hold it against her; that they were sorry. God, Purity was so fucking sorry. She picked at her steak with the enthusiasm of a pencil-pusher walking to their termination meeting. Her eyes, puffy and red from tears, focused as hard as they could upon her meal - though they yearned to flash a hateful glance at Luca.


    They had been recovering. They had been getting better at being fugitives; better at keeping their heads down. She had had plans to invite Est out on a date (as much of a date as one could have in the industrial sector), even, to try and put a bit more finesse on that whole situation. Fuck, she had even had dinner planned; she''d found a lovely little butchery just a twenty minute walk from where they had been staying! She had had plans, ideas on how to treat her lovers the way they deserved! To see them smile again!


    And then Luca and his little blonde arm-candy had shown up in their slick black hearse to ruin it all. Sure, they''d been nice enough so far... but tonight? Tonight was both the first and last straw. A fuck-up of this size was not easily forgiven, nor easily forgotten. Frankly, Purity had half a mind to just start taste-testing any other foods they were given specifically for EJ. That would have put her mind at ease... and it would get her closer to the ghoulette, sort of. Knowing what she ate, experiencing it for herself? It''d make her feel closer, just by knowing that much more about how EJ lived.


    EJ''s brain was stuck upon the inverse of the women at her sides'' thoughts. She wasn''t thinking of herself, or even the Knights - she was thinking of them. What had it been like for them, she wondered. Seeing her completely fade out, more or less, becoming something less than a person in a matter of seconds. She thought, then, of those vague sounds when she had been in the haze... the sobs, the cries, the shouts.


    It was clearer in retrospect; hindsight was a bit more precise than twenty-twenty. They had been shouting her name, voicing concerns that started modest and quickly ramped into sheer terror. They had been shaking her... Screaming, inches from her ear, putting their hands in front of her face. Est had been pleading with her, offering her things that EJ knew she could never give. Purity had been squeezing her like a life preserver on stormy seas, crying her heart out when it became apparent EJ was unresponsive.


    It disgusted her. Not their reactions, no, what disgusted EJ was her own inability to break herself free of that copper-flavoured ocean, only allowed to dive deeper and deeper. It had been so wonderful in the moment, that was true; but now, looking back, knowing what she knew... having seen the repercussions of it... It nauseated her in a visceral way. She had been weak. She had allowed herself to become so overwhelmed; she had given herself permission to let it push her head beneath crimson waves.


    Eurgh. She wished she could simply shake free that feeling of illness, like shedding a winter coat. Instead, all she could really do was linger there, soul''s flesh rebelling against the garment draped atop it. Her hands balled into fists. She had since abandoned the earlier idea to avoid embarrassing Esthrielle, because what the fuck more could she do? How could she have made a bigger scene? And so, all thoughts of proper etiquette shoved from her brain in favor of feeding her beast, she leaned down and took the pork with her bare fangs.


    No one said anything, unsurprisingly. It was exactly as she had thought, of course - what else could she do at this point that would really drive the nail deeper? She was already socially crucified to these women: hands pinned to a cross of shame, dying there for the conversational sins of her peers and lovers. Death never stayed long for people like her, though, so even as she felt the shame die away and subside, it began anew in a heated rush.


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    She sighed. Every part of her wished she could pull Est and Purity that much closer - get squished down to a flat, thin little slip of paper by their bodies, so that her entirety could be against them at once. That would have been heavenly... even simply going back to their room and snuggling up for the rest of the night would''ve been great. Sadly, no chance of it.


    The meal drew to its completion with a round of dessert: for the omnivores, creme brulee with a cinnamon sprinkle mixed-in. For the carnivore? Bacon, marinated in maple syrup for over a day, then coated in brown sugar before being baked to a crisp. Luca hesitantly informed her that the bacon had been ''in the works'' since they had first learned there would be a ghoul coming to stay, and as a guest, no less. He seemed to want to be proud of his own preparations, wavering smile showing great bluster; tonight''s earlier events had rocked him too deeply, however.


    The bacon was put away with gusto, but not too much of it. Purity lived up to her own self-appointed role of taste-tester now, snatching up a strip with one hand and staying EJ''s mouth with the other. Once the delicious plank of sugar-crusted meat, so buttery and creamy yet with a rich overtone of smokiness, was consumed, she moved her restraining hand back from Esper James''s mouth and gave her a nod. EJ didn''t feel inclined to ask... not to really see it as a bother. Purity wanted to check her food. Made sense, and it settled her nerves ever so slightly.


    The first bite of bacon was, as it always is, the most succulent. The meat was smoky, fatty in such a way that it melted in one''s mouth, and possessed of a stinging, pleasant savoriness. The exterior, the crisped glaze? Sweetness came through in drizzling waves, like pouring hot caramel onto one''s tongue, the autumnal taste of molasses and maple wrapping it with a bow. It was every bit the indulgence EJ needed in this moment - her craving for human blood had been sated, of course, but sugar healed the heart.


    Chomp, crunch, munch, chew, gulp. The bacon strips disappeared like tickets into a counting machine at an arcade. Her stomach, never feeling truly full, ate away at them with as much vigor as a piranha swarm starved for weeks. She was finished nearly as quickly as she started, and when she had completed, she simply drank in the room around her with her eyes.


    That brown-haired girl from earlier had sat across from her and the others, never letting that earlier smile fully fall from her lips. She cast the odd glance up towards EJ, and made no qualms about openly observing the ghoulette; she occasionally let her eyes drift to Purity and Esthrielle, but never for too long. There was a different sort of hesitation to address them, it seemed, even with words which never left her throat. That suited the three lovers just fine, though; like Luca had earlier said, there''d be plenty of time for questions later.


    Luca''s own questions seemed to have been buried along with his hopes for a nice, pleasant meal, though his relief was palpable. He shoveled creme brulee into his mouth with great insistence, his shoulders hunched, his face showing a kindness and warmth that seemed more for his own benefit than anyone else''s. EJ didn''t blame him, though - and frankly, didn''t blame anyone here. They hadn''t known. They hadn''t seen how Wayward blood, presumably infused with some sort of chemical additive, would affect the second-living.


    That did make her think, though, just for a second. The Waywards were mostly mechanized, right? Even Esthrielle was less meat than machine, and she was considered to be on the more conservative part of the bodily augmentation spectrum. She blinked the line of inquiry away, willing to accept that she just didn''t know as much about her new hosts as she thought she might''ve. Even being here, alive proved that to her in abundance. How would she still be alive if everything she thought she knew-


    And therein her thought process was stopped, the sudden rising of every nun in the room drawing her far too completely to ignore. One by one, they collected their dishware and refuse and proceeded to a door on the far end of the dining room, silently forming a pristine, perfect line. EJ went to follow suit, without any indication she should do so; peer pressure pressed upon the still-fresh wounds of her earlier episode.


    Luca put a hand up and upon her shoulder; Esthrielle and Purity pulled her back down to sit. Luca cleared his throat softly, as if afraid to cause a disruption within the deafening quiet of the dining hall. "Ah... Esper James, don''t worry about that. Someone will be along to fetch your plate. You too, Esthrielle, and miss Purity... Leave them. If you wouldn''t mind, I''d like to ask you a few questions once everyone leaves..." He smiled at them, then, flashing his immaculate teeth and giving the trio a friendly wink.


    EJ wondered about that. Luca, the girl with brown hair, the other nuns in their entirety... They all had normal teeth. Normal insofar as their shape, at least. The blonde returned the smile for a moment, then turning her head to shoot a sly look at Est''s mouth, remembering the feeling of her own flesh being broken. Est had fangs - steel fangs, even. It wasn''t as though she was trying to blend in with Vitus regulars. Why were her''s different?


    Thoughts for later. Luca needed an answer now. "Y-Yeah, Luca, sure... We wouldn''t mind at all. I''d... I''d love to answer any questions you''ve got. Don''t worry about offending me, haha, I''ve got, uh... th-thick skin..." She knew her shaky tone and unsure delivery wasn''t the best way to convey her confidence, but she had to try anyways. It was true, at least, that there was no confidence to back her statements; but still, she wanted to see what the Easterners had to ask her.


    Slowly but surely, the nun-line moved out of the dining room and through the single door to, presumably, a kitchen or washroom of some sort. Eventually, the four of them were alone. Luca stood, going to drift about the table in his violet drapery to sit across from the trio, his long black hair taking an inky shine from the room''s LED sconces. The door that the nuns had disappeared into opened just as he was about to speak; the girl with the brown hair strode forth from the yawning portal, bringing another woman with her.


    This other woman was tall, nearly as tall as Luca, and her own hair was a rich, dark brown that brought to mind Christmas fudge. Her sharp, elegant eyes, however, were anything but a natural tone: the LED lamplights of a Wayward''s irises were hued in gorgeous, honey-like amber, and she never really seemed to blink as she approached. The lighting in the room cast its warming glow to hue her cream-coloured skin in a healthier, sun-kissed tone.


    Luca acknowledged the new pair with a nod and a smile, gesturing beside himself for them to sit. The woman with the amber eyes put her hands to the front of her thighs, supporting herself as she gave a slight bow; the girl with the brown hair, however, gave EJ a friendly wave and a smile. The two sat, one on either side of Luca, yet to speak but clearly looking the women across the table over. Luca''s eyes flashed in that imperceptible way, and the amber-eyed woman blinked, finally, before speaking aloud.


    "Hello, honored guests. I am the mother abbess of this convent. I would like to humbly beg forgiveness for tonight''s disruption; we have yet to receive any documentation regarding the effects of our infusions on the..." She scanned her brain for the right word, staring blankly at EJ. Another flash from Luca, his face turned to regard her, and she continued. "...second-living." She shut her mouth with a sort of finality usually reserved for executions. In the void she left, the brown-haired girl spoke up, her own tone showing a thousand times the emotion of her superior.


    "Hello as well! My name is Zofia, Zofia Kaczmarek. Sister Zofia works, or just Zofia, or Zofi. I''m the, ah, head field researcher for this convent. It''s my job to learn more about people like you, EJ!" Her excitement never seemed to dwindle nor die; she was every bit as enthusiastic from start to finish, and even when she finished speaking, she continued to smile. Upon closer observation, with a moment of calm to actually give thought to the action, EJ looked to her teeth. She had been, in some ways, hoping they were normal, like Luca''s.


    Not even close. Fangs, of tempered, polished steel, just like Est''s. They were thinner, too, less of the thick pillars of metal that EJ''s lover held, and... Well. EJ couldn''t help but feel her skin crawl as she realized they reminded her of the teeth of a ghoul. Zofia nodded to the three women across from her, putting her arms on the table and folding her hands. Purity was the first of the guests to respond to the two newcomers, her tone measured, but a sliver of something more hidden away in its centre.


    "It''s a pleasure to meet you, mother abbess, Zofia. I''m Purity Aloise Francharde, and before you ask, yes, Purity is my given name." Zofi''s smile was returned with a restrained sort of smile, her own beautifully pearl-looking teeth in their own sharp contrast to the Easterners''. Est neglected to say anything; they already knew who she was, anyways. It wouldn''t have made any difference for her to introduce herself, because at the end of the evening, why would it?


    EJ''s turn, then. They knew who she was, too, right? At least a little? But, manners were manners... "I''m Esper James Price-Wynnfield. It''s, uh, it''s n-nice to meet you two, Zofi, mother abbess... Thank you for dinner, a-and the outfit, and letting us stay the night here..." She wanted to throw in how amazing it had been to sleep and screw in and on a real bed, but thought that that would''ve been a bit too pathetic. She knew she was a bit pathetic most times, but still, better to not give others too much ammo on her.


    Luca nodded, and the other two followed suit. He opened his mouth to speak, then, addressing the three women all in one go. "Alright, ladies... Honored guests. You''ve agreed to come here, help educate us about the nature of the second-living, and see how we live in turn. So. There are some important things we''d like to know, things that may come across as rude, or as insensitive... Questions born of ignorance. I can only plead for your understanding in this matter."


    EJ nodded timidly, trying to steel herself for whatever came next. It felt every bit like when people start a sentence off with ''don''t take this the wrong way''. Whatever they were about to say was going to rip her apart at the seams, and likely be extremely callous. She wasn''t afraid of it, per se, she''d received a lot of similar questions before she had died... but this time, the nature of them was different. Just another thing she couldn''t change about herself, no matter how hard she tried. At least she had enjoyed, in some ways, being a ghoul.


    The mother abbess spoke up first, waiting for a response from Esthrielle and Purity first before continuing. The ladies of the white and pink locks, respectively, nodded their assent. "Esper James, you are second-living. Your kind can only eat meat, or as I understand it, poisons. Smaller vegetative matter is simply not consumed; it is removed from you through unknown means, but meat, you can gorge upon." She let the statements sink in for a moment, eyes fixed upon the diminutive blonde.


    She was right, of course. Everyone knew that second-living thrived off of meat and booze and not really anything else. Sugar seemed to get a pass, as did salt and spices... No one paid much thought to why. It was just assumed that they got dissolved and absorbed like the meat, and it was too inconvenient to really ponder the process of it all. EJ nodded to the mother abbess, waiting for her to continue. She didn''t need to wait very long.


    "So, then, why do you not all eat one another? Why is Vitus not a bloodbath - certainly, you crave the flesh of others. Why only the living? Why do you not consume the risen dead?"

 Act Three (Ch. 57) - Eater of Truths; or, Undead Otaku

    The question struck Esper James like a king hit from a prize fighter. It was so simple an inquiry, so innocent, so naive... but when Esper James thought on it, for even a second, she found there was no answer she could give. Nothing came up immediately, save for that same docile acceptance that the second-living gave to most facts of their existence.


    Her mouth opened to respond, though nothing seemed to come. No words... no sound at all, even. Lips closed, then opened, then closed again, stammering soundlessly, wracking her brain for a proper answer. Why couldn''t the second-living eat each other? Their meat tasted foul, so she had heard... Gave one horrible indigestion, to the point that even if you could choke down a mouthful, it would be up your throat in a second flat. She had never even considered trying, even at the depths of her most brutal cravings.


    Was it because they were dead already? Or, dead-but-living? No, it couldn''t be that - normal dead meat, from animals or first-living, sated their hunger. The blood and flesh of mortals was as succulent as the finest dinner... It was the ambrosia that distant gods had let fall to earth, simply for the cannibalistic post-humans to consume. That didn''t exactly make it clear why things were the way they were, of course, but it was a truth as inherent and unquestionable as the sun holding dominion over the midday sky.


    She began to tremble gently, the spot she had been put upon growing all the more imposing. Pressure pounded in her ears like a bass drum''s beat, intensity growing with every second to pass... until Purity stepped in to respond in her stead. The pinkette spoke steadily, tone firm like a palisade wall, hoping to stand between this woman''s questioning and her tender lover''s sense of self. "Because something about the process of making a second-living makes them inedible to one another. I''ve, uh, I''ve seen one take a bite out of another, then paint the ground with their lunch almost instantly."


    EJ snapped her head up to look at Purity, the matter-of-fact nature of her answer both shocking and aweing the ghoulish gal. Purity was right, of course, but EJ was more impressed that her soft, sweet girlfriend had become so stern with only a moment''s notice. She let her mouth fall closed, the issue dropped from her brain. Purity was right; it was whatever they did to make them into second-living! A soft smile began to make its way over EJ''s lips, spurred on by a tidal wave of relief.


    The mother abbess was unmoved by the answer, face yet placid, body yet unmoving. There was a starkness to the contrast between the little blonde and the tall ebon-haired woman - one seemed so full of life, the other as lifeless as a statue, yet they were opposite, respectively, to their states of existence. EJ turned to Esthrielle, looking her over - she wasn''t like the other nuns, was she? She wasn''t so machinated that she seemed more like a drone than a person.


    The mother abbess continued her questioning, then, eyes still locked on Esper James despite Purity putting forth the initial answer. "Hmm. That makes sense - and it would be problematic for Tsang if they had made your kind delectable to yourselves, given your ability to regenerate. It would cause societal stagnation. Once a person was dead, they would simply sit at home and consume themselves, re-grow their own meat, and continue. Fine. Next question." Finally, her gaze broke from EJ, snapping fluidly to Zofia instead.


    Zofi looked back at the mother abbess, brows raised and eyes widened, but a single nod from her superior was enough to send Zofi back to looking at EJ. "Alright! So, you can''t eat eachother, because it makes you puke. Good to know... Ah, uh, the next question is: what''s it like to eat a person? Are you still in full control of yourself, or is it, ah... Like a drug?" A simpler question, though still fairly prying. EJ was almost a bit indignant to answer, given tonight''s earlier proceedings, but... Fuck it. Better to placate them, right?


    "I-It, uh...! It''s like a drug, yeah, like you said. Your whole body gets really hot and warm, your muscles start to tense up really bad, your... Your jaw gets restless. It doesn''t feel like you could ever have enough - like, eating a sizable amount makes you feel good and like you can stop, but that first taste is... It''s powerful." She gulped, steeling herself before continuing, every memory she could muster of consumption flooding back into her brain.


    Purity''s blood... Est''s blood... That cat''s blood... That guard they had run into on the streets... Everything came back with a startling clarity that EJ wasn''t really sure she was ready to delve into quite yet. That feeling of endless need, bottomless hunger, tickled at her chest even now. Even just thinking of it planted a seed of the same within her, though that earth was quickly salted so that nothing would, or could, grow. EJ cleared her throat before continuing, shutting her eyes and taking a deep breath first.


    "It''s like every good feeling you''ve ever had, all at once, turned to eleven. It''s undeniable. You c-can... You can deny the cravings when you haven''t had any for a while, but that''s hard. It''s... It''s a lot like withdrawals from a drug. I''ve never done drugs, of course, but, like... I can imagine it''s what morphine withdrawals are like, or heroin. Or cocaine. Or... meth? I dunno, I''m not really a drug girl..." She trailed off into silence, feeling she had said more than enough. It was also in large part out of desire to halt her own rambling. Oops.


    Zofi nodded, smile disappearing to be replaced with thoughtfulness. A few moments passed as she thought on what EJ had said, face turning down to stare at the table''s surface, the focus of her gaze visibly fixated upon something outside the realm of the physical. Finally, once she was done with whatever the hell she had been doing, she looked back up at EJ with a renewed smile. Its Cheshire glee was only a little bit off-putting to the ghoulette, though she still couldn''t get over those fangs.


    "Ok! So, it''s some kind of stimulant and depressant in one, and momentarily halts higher mental function to spur the body onward with base instinctual urges! Huh, pretty neat..."


    EJ nearly felt her jaw drop as Zofi said that last bit. She could feel the look Luca and Est were giving Zofi - the mother abbess''s expression, didn''t change, though a split-second twitch of the brow was more than enough to show that she had thoughts about the statement. Of all the things EJ had been expecting the Knights to call her, or anything about the second-living, ''pretty neat'' wasn''t one of them.


    Zofia continued, then, seemingly unbothered by her colleagues'' questioning glares. "Alright... So, super-stimulants just from eating another person. Weird, y''know? Like, what does it? There''s nothing in a human being that should do that to you... And don''t say adrenochrome like a tool! Adrenochrome was found to have no medical usage! It just makes your brain weird!" She preached as if to a hostile choir, though none in attendance seemed to have been raring to propose adrenochrome in the first place.


    "Anyways... next question. You said you have cravings. Now, no judging, but I take it you haven''t exactly eaten many people. Keeping that in mind, I doubt you''ve been... taking your ''meds'', right?" She raised one brow, leaning forwards ever so slightly across the table. Esper James was emboldened a bit by Zofi''s enthusiasm; there was something of a kindred spirit in the girl, or so the ghoulette felt. Something about how friendly Zofi was being was... refreshing. Not the interrogation of an enemy, but the inquiry of an enthusiast.


    "Y-Yeah! I''m... I''m a fugitive from Tsang, for, uh, reasons, so I can''t exactly go pick up my meds! I''ve actually been a lot better without them, I think... I''ve been thinking a lot about that recently, haha. I don''t get the cravings as badly... I once bit Purity, haha, when I had been off my meds for a while. But nowadays, being off of them for a while? I feel..." Good. She wanted to say good. But as she considered it, thought about acknowledging her own state rather than just saying she didn''t feel as bad, she felt her throat clog.


    The pills had made her worse. Every day, for thirty years, she''d been taking those little pills. Every fucking day, she''d been choking down her prescription, just like every other second-living in the city. She''d always thought they''d been necessary to life itself, to exist as some semblance of a person. They''d always been a necessary evil, in her mind - a constant drain on her funds, a constant numbing of the self in favor of sanity. She couldn''t even imagine the thousands of dollars worth of pills she''d bought in her unlife.


    And for what? To play even further into Tsang''s hands, maybe. To do exactly what they wanted... to be every bit the little corporate slave they wanted and needed from Vitus''s citizens. To be beholden to a god in a little black pill, the only thing that kept one safe and sane... kept you out of the IRE sites, or worse, the crematoriums. Tsang gave you the medicine, so that Tsang could enforce your adherence to its consumption. Fuck. It made her sick, sick enough that her stomach roiled audibly.


    Zofi nodded, smile growing wider as she did. It seemed that EJ was telling her exactly what she wanted to hear - telling her, from the lips of a real second-living, that being without the pills felt better than taking them. Zofia''s eyes shut as she drew in another breath, pressing forth with the questioning.


    "Perfect, perfect, EJ. That''s great info, thank you! See, we... We''re gonna try and get our hands on some of those pills, crack into ''em, see what they actually do. But! That''s a convo for later. Next question: you and Purity and Est are, uh, entangled, right? Does your being second-living have any... effects on that?" Her smile became more of a grin, tinged with that sort of smug nature that comes from addressing the elephant in the room.


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    EJ could practically see Est''s blush even without looking. Instead, she looked up to Purity - her most frequent partner for such things, and the first person she''d even engaged in those sorts of acts with. It didn''t take a lot of brain power to put together what Zofia was asking, after all. She meant sex. Did EJ being a ghoul affect her sex life at all? Well, yes, but maybe not in the ways Zofi was expecting... Or hoping, as it were. Zofi seemed to be hoping for juicy details, not necessarily good or bad ones, EJ thought, with every question she asked.


    EJ took a breath of her own straightening up in her seat. The emboldening, almost conspiratorial nature of Zofi''s questioning had hyped her up, built her back to some semblance of confidence. It was none so much the brutal grilling she''d been expecting, more of a curious woman simply asking whatever gossip-mongering questions she had come to mind. EJ was happy to fill her in. "So! Funny you ask that, haha! Well, first off, all second-living are infertile. We''re sort-of-alive, yeah, but being sort-of-alive means we can''t really reproduce."


    Purity''s jaw tensed, suddenly spurred to interject, though she withheld whatever she wanted to say.


    "So, without reproduction, we don''t really worry about pregnancy. And, because of the regenerative nature of our bodies, I''ve never really heard of any second-living getting any STDs, you know? Not like you can get herpes when there''s no living flesh to infect. Only, uh, sorta-living flesh. Oh, sorry, you mean my love live, specifically. Ahh..." A smirk drew itself across EJ''s lips, like a sentient painting holding its own brush. Purity rolled her eyes and couldn''t suppress her own begrudging smile; Est, who had been pretty rigid up until now, let out a shocked cascade of laughter.


    "Well-ll-ll...~ I''ve never had any complaints, haha! There''s a lot more biting than I think is usual, at least! Oh, uh, not ''breaking the skin'' biting, more like... Uh, playful bites. Love bites, you know?" She finished there, welcoming Zofi to prod her further if she really wished. Purity and Est had started to wind down as well, this whole line of questioning setting them respectively at ease. However, after a moment of thought, Purity did interject - her smile disappearing, eyes going wide and alert.


    "Oh, the reproduction thing? Tsang is working on that, actively. They have been for years. It''s really hush-hush, behind-closed-doors type stuff, but... They''re trying to figure out how to re-fertilize the second-living. It''s a big expensive project." She cleared her throat after having said her piece, giving EJ a gentle squeeze. Zofi nodded at both women''s answers, pursing her lips and shutting her eyes. After only a moment, though, she pursued in such a way that made Purity''s jaw drop.


    "So... how do you know that, Purity? I hadn''t heard you were a Tsang operative, or even a resistance fighter, or anything like that. Anything you''d like to share with the class?" Zofi winked, lips spreading wide once again, steely fangs on display; in contrast to her own mirth, Purity''s expression fell. Her face lost every drop of colour it once held, and her eyes were allowed to droop down to the table, her discomfort palpable. EJ spoke up on her lover''s behalf - or at least, began to, before Est cut in.


    "Not appropriate, Zofi. Purity''s info is solid, I promise, but it''s not a topic you should ask about. Next question?" The arm she had slung around EJ was drawn free, then, only to be slung further across her back so that Est could put it around Purity. Puri remained silent as the grave, staring into the table.


    Zofi''s own amusement faltered, and her expression turned solemn, even perhaps disconcerted. She shifted in her seat, back and forth, before clearing her throat loudly and performatively. "Yes, yes. Moving on. Sorry ''bout that. Next question, uh... So, being a ghoul, do you have any physical alterations other than the teeth? Can you do anything weird, Esper Jame- er, sorry, EJ?" Zofi put a smile back on, but it was as fake as her teeth. One could practically imagine a big, animated sweat drop forming and falling from her brow.


    "...anything weird. Uh. Hmm. Other than the normal stuff, like survive otherwise lethal injuries, consume only meat and not suffer deficiencies, ignore bloodborne illness - or all illnesses, really - and display inhuman strength? No, not really." Initially, Zofia''s enthusiasm only really bothered her because it was a bit creepy. Now, though? Now that she had (inadvertently) taken a swing at Purity? EJ was starting to get a little fed up with this questioning. Tonight had been more rough than it needed to be.


    But then, something came to mind. Something that she herself couldn''t do, at least not that she knew of... but someone else of great import could manage. Zofia''s expression had fallen a measure more in the time it took for EJ to grab this memory and reel it back into her mind''s eye, but the researcher''s feelings were secondary to the blonde''s need to at least give these women a fighting chance. "Uh...! Erm, it''s not something I can do, but... I''ve, ah... I''ve seen a person turn into a monster."


    Zofi''s eyes, crestfallen as they were, snapped wide. The mother abbess, too, and even Luca - each of them seemed to have renewed their focus with only a moment''s notice. Purity''s own melancholy was wiped clean to look down quizzically at the ghoulette; Esthrielle was the only party present who didn''t seem taken aback. She knew exactly what EJ was going to bring up. After all, she''d been there to experience it firsthand.


    "Ahh..! My boss! My boss, Judas, she... One night, at her house, we were... I was asleep, and then I woke up alone in her bed, and there was a thumping from down the stairs... I ran to go see, and..." EJ gestured impotently at Esthrielle, as if to emphasize her point. "Est was there, and she and Judas were fighting. Est was, ah, doing her whole thing... but Judas, she..." The more of the story she told, the greater detail with which the memory was recalled.


    Judas, hunched over, rearing back to strike - her body abnormal, muscles bulging at skin that threatened to tear at the seams, fingers now claws and teeth utterly monstrous. Teeth that, chillingly, reminded EJ now of her own. "She was... weird. Fucked up, like those guys you see in martial arts anime, except... Her teeth were super long and sharp, l-like mine, and her muscles were all... Twice their normal size, maybe. Probably more. She looked like a hairless werewolf."


    The shock and awe of her initial assertation that she had seen a ''monster'' only set deeper within the assembled listeners. Zofi almost looked excited by this new information; Luca had his brow furrowed in thought, hand over his mouth; the mother abbess looked disgusted. EJ turned to look up at Esthrielle, hoping she''d give some kind of backup... and wasn''t left disappointed.


    "Yeah... Bitch was like, doubled in height. Hair super long, arms super jacked, claws freakish and mean. She... She had me on the ropes, to tell the truth. Everything I threw at her, she could shrug off... Even silver powder, even flash-fire bombs... EJ''s the only reason I''m even still alive." Her face was stoic, jaw set and locked once she finished, neck tense. It couldn''t have been a good memory for her to relive, but for completely different reasons than for EJ.


    The mother abbess now looked positively indignant, eyes wide once more, though now with fury where once had been disbelief. "Esthrielle, is that why you had us come pick you up in the industrial sector?! Why have we never heard of this up until now? Your repairs were extremely costly, and this information would have been-" She was silenced by a flash from Luca''s eyes accompanied by a raised hand, which gestured for her to calm down.


    Luca sighed deeply, shutting his eyelids and then drawing in a deep return breath to refill his lungs. "I am sure Esthrielle had her reasons, mother abbess. What is important is that this intel is available to us now, is it not? Esthrielle is alive. Esper James is alive. We now know that the second-living, or perhaps only some of them, possess metamorphic capabilities. Is that not enough?" His gaze dripped with distaste as it was sent towards the mother abbess; despite her obvious rage, she could only nod before averting her gaze, still sneering.


    Luca turned then to Esper James, exasperation still etched into what few creases even found room to form on his picturesque face. "EJ. Thank you. I believe we should end our questioning here... We have learned much, and gained much. Under my authority, as doge of Venice, and as a feudal lord with stake in the church and its business here..." He let the pause linger in the air, a New Year''s Eve ball waiting to drop. The mother abbess would have looked more pissed if it was possible, but her face was already getting so red that it seemed she may soon pop.


    "...I would like to extend an offer of protection, and patronage, to you and your companions. Your knowledge of Vitus, and Tsang, and the second-living as a whole, is already proving a great boon. In addition, I am sure Zofia and her assistants would like to run additional tests, now, far exceeding her initial allotment." Zofi''s face lit like a fucking watchtower beacon at that, signaling to all the kingdom that she was more than pleased by this idea. It was all the little freak could do not to clap her hands and squeal.


    Luca continued, getting into his oratory stride. He had been speaking more in the past day or two than he had done in months - but the rust had been broken away, and his confidence flourished with his prose. "If you and your party would be willing to assist us further, allow us additional, potentially discomforting but undoubtedly essential testing, we would offer you shelter, food, and safety in turn. You would be free to leave whenever you would wish. Do you accept?"


    EJ felt her heart about jump into her throat and choke her to another death.

 Act Three (Ch. 58) - Saturnalia; or, Meandering Metanoia

    Esthrielle''s face lit up, the Italian barely barring the door against outright elation. Her neck seemed fit to snap with how quickly her head snapped to EJ, then to Luca, then back again, lips held tight so they wouldn''t form a grin. Her heart was a furnace, and it was eating dopamine as fuel - dopamine which was readily and steadily provided by her adoptive brother. Further kindling was added in the form of the mother abbess''s frustration with the whole scenario.


    Her arm around the pair of women to her right was given a flex, squeezing them both, reminding them of her presence but also informing them of her roaring mind and heart. She didn''t want to influence EJ''s decision... or rather, she wanted to but knew she shouldn''t, but she couldn''t keep herself from giving the little blonde a sign of her approval. A vote of confidence went a long way for big decisions like this, and knowing how indecisive EJ oftentimes was? A gentle push might be all she needed.


    Where Est was excited, raring to go like she''d been injected with a fresh dose of amphetamines, Purity was falling apart. The pink-haired princess was a ruined chapel in the midst of a tranquil forest, forgotten yet still holy, surrounded by a tranquility which picked apart every brick and crumbled her mortar. The very relief and serenity she felt in that moment was the same thing sending her to pieces, having spent so long keeping it together... The bliss of dissolution was incomparable, and she welcomed it.


    The pinkette fell, slowly and carefully but without apprehension, against EJ, and by proxy, Esthrielle. She couldn''t find it in herself to make even the most meagre sound, but she couldn''t help but rest her entire weight on the women she loved. Being given this sort of release was a once-in-a-lifetime experience, and she intended to let it last as long as she could. She returned Est''s brief, forceful squeeze with a longer, firmer, but less forceful one of her own.


    Esper James, by contrast, felt a bit like when she had drained that blood soup: her head was woozy, her stomach was roiling, her eyes seemed as if in a misted dream. She did her best to focus on Luca, or at least keep him in her vision - her thoughts drifted aimless and carefree, the burden-bringing yoke of fugitivity lifted in a great many senses. There needn''t be any more running, any more hiding... Luca was willing to vouch for them, keep them fed, keep them clean and healthy...


    ...and with the resources the Knights had at their disposal? It finally, genuinely, felt like she and her nestmates stood a fighting chance. It felt like there was something more for her, for Purity, for Est, than a life on the run. It felt like there was a second-life yet to live for her, even with everything that was stacked against her. For the first time in a stretch of countless, monotonous years under Tsang''s bootheel, Esper James dared to hope for something better than what she had been given. All she had to do was reach out and take it - and say yes.


    She had done so much crying tonight. She had cried for enough hours to span a stretch of weeks, if not months, in her time in Vitus - and recently, even more than usual. Her eyes were tired of tears, and with everything she had, she fought back against them; in her moment of salvation, she would have hated to taint the memory with tearfall.


    Slowly at first but picking up speed, like a piston beginning its toil, EJ nodded. Her blonde hair swiftly began to fly, back and forth and this way and that, her enthusiasm blocking out any semblance of grace or restraint. Whereas Esthrielle withheld her own joy, EJ flashed her ghoulish dentistry like she was getting a new license from the DMV. From Luca''s smirk at seeing her, he would''ve laughed had the moment not carried such weight for all of them.


    "Y-Yes! Yes, Luca- err, fuck- oh, no, fuck- gah! Screw it...! Yes, uhh, Mr. doge of Venice, I accept your terms! I''ll help you all out in any way I can, a-and I promise to mind my manners and try to be a presentable little nun while my companions and I stay here under your patronage! Thank you, my doge, for this most gracious of offers!" The words couldn''t come quick enough, it felt, and once they were spoken, the women at her sides both gave her a full embrace: Purity first, leaning her head on EJ''s shoulder and deigning fit to raise up the tears which the ghoul had rejected, with Esthrielle following suit moments after.


    Luca''s smirk filled itself out into a grand beam, but his lips were drawn back down into a tight, thinned state as he remembered his place. An arm went across the table, palm facing the horizon, to offer a shake. He didn''t need to insist upon it: EJ''s took his hand in the both of hers, shaking emphatically. That handshake felt like it meant everything and more.


    Zofi was wiggling like a worm searching for a meal, watching the proceedings with a mixture of glee and wonder. She looked as though a million different things were clawing at her mouth''s gate to break free, but like crabs in a bucket, whenever one rose to clutch at freedom it was dragged down by its kin. Left with nothing to say, her only recourse was to positively bare her fangs in a horrid approximation of a smile. It was the least she could do, though from the way she writhed, she wished she could get away with more.


    The mother abbess, in spiteful contrast to the others, looked sick. Sick, and also enraged. Her own stewing syllables were not so borne of enthusiasm as Zofi''s were; no, theirs was a venomous breed, tainting her very being into nausea through their repression. She stood, then, rising to her full height in a single motion and lifting her right leg to swing it over the bench. Wordlessly she excused herself, making her way out of the room without any pause - not that anyone in the assembly would give her a reason to pause, anyways.


    "Good, good. We''re happy to have you and yours, EJ - despite the mother abbess''s behavior, I assure you, she will see the benefits of this arrangement sooner than later. Now... You three have had a long beginning to what was supposed to be a fairly pleasant evening. My apologies for disrupting that. Please, take all the time you need to unwind..." His paternal smile lingered, the handshake broken but without haste. Once his arm had returned to his side of the table, he used it to push himself up to a stand.


    "Whenever you three are prepared, Esthrielle, please alert Zofia to your readiness. Arrangements can be made for testing to begin thereupon. If you''ll all excuse me, I need to go have a word with the mother abbess..." Their acceptance of his excusal was assumed, and rightly so - no one at the table said anything to stop him. He swung a leg out over the bench and took a moment to stretch, before giving the assembled women a wave, and heading to follow behind the absent abbess.


    As Luca left, the hem of his purple robes drifting and trailing behind him, Zofi slid over to take his spot. She squealed aloud, now, no longer needing to hold it back in the presence of her superior. "Oooh~! I''m so excited, you three! I, ahem, I''m getting a bit worked up, but...! I''ve always wanted to meet a second-living and work with them, you know? All the stories they tell in church, I don''t... I''ve never believed them. I don''t think your people are monsters, EJ." Her smile faded but only out of self-restraint, not from any dwindling of joy. She sat up a bit straighter in her seat, clearing her throat authoritatively, trying to seem a bit more presentable despite herself.


    It struck Esper James as pretty forward of the Wayward to just directly admit that she held no ill will towards the second-living... But, in spite of Zofia''s creepiness and overeager nature, EJ felt some sort of comfort from it. Est was there to witness Zofi''s admission, so surely the other woman was willing to hold to her word; and furthermore, that sort of dedication was a mark towards Zofia''s genuineness. She wouldn''t have been so forthright and so adamant if she didn''t mean it, right?


    Right?


    Esper James let out a deep sigh, breath she hadn''t realized she was holding sending a gentle gust that made Zofi''s hair waver in the minute wind. Better to make allies than enemies, she figured, and besides - Zofi, for all her weirdness, seemed to want to see the ghoulette and her lovers safe. She wanted to work with them, and in a way born of genuine interest, rather than any sort of theopolitical malice. That, at minimum, was worth acknowledging.


    "Zofia... Thank you. I a-appreciate you saying so. I... I''ve learned a lot about Easterners since I''ve met Est, and even more since I came here. I''m glad to hear that not everyone hates me just for existing... That, despite everything I''ve been told, y''know..." The rest of her sentence was left to implication, but Zofia understood regardless, nodding her head with closed eyes. When they opened again, she continued to speak, her words more addressed to EJ''s partners than EJ herself.


    "So, Esthrielle, Purity... Would the both of you mind if I spoke a bit more privately with you, about EJ, and the city at large? Some of my questions may be disconcerting, but... I promise, they come from a place of academic intrigue, not malintent." She folded her hands and cast a glance towards both women, her smile becoming tight-lipped and formal. She seemed to be getting more into the formality of her presentation as she continued with it, rather than letting earlier excitement breach through.


    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    Purity was snapped from her own dreamlike haze, eyes focusing in, head lifting from EJ''s shoulder. She looked to Est first, for but a moment; the tan tomboy returned the glance, shrugging her shoulders. That was all Purity needed. "Erm... Yes, Zofia, that would be fine with us. Given the terms Luca put forth, it would be, er, rude for us to deny your request, so... So of course we''ll answer your questions." She nodded to cap off the question, but to EJ, it seemed that the gesture was more for herself than for Zofia''s benefit.


    Est mirrored Purity''s own answer. "Yeah, Zofi, we can answer some questions. I, uh... I''ve only been here a little longer than you have, but still, that''s... fine. I''ll tell you whatever you wanna know, if I can." Short and sweet, much like herself. Well, not EJ short, but still. Zofia gave a single bob of her head in affirmation, before going to stand.


    "Perfect, perfect... thank you, all three of you. I promise, this will be for the best for all of us. For too long have East and West been divided, and our information sharing completely strangled. Getting to know more about one another in all senses is the best way for us to proceed as a whole, I feel. I''ll leave you ladies to relax; like Luca said, Esthrielle, message me when you''re ready." And with that, Zofi was off, her own habit drifting in much the same manner as Luca''s robes.


    The three lovers were left alone in the dining hall. Purity leaned her head back down onto EJ''s shoulder, and Esthrielle took the opportunity to do the same. Behind EJ''s back, the arms they had been using to support one another found their way together to hold hands. It was nice. Just three women, each with their own hearts ablaze but frosted over with love''s delicate chill, the earlier furnace of passions cooled to a more gentle tempo. Everything, for once, felt right with the world.


    They sat like this for moments untold, and uncounted; there was no reason to not while away the time, just sharing warmth and touch, pressed to one another in a display of wordless affection. The scent of dinner lingered, but in their closeness, it was overwhelmed by the clinging aroma of detergent and fabric softener on their habits, and for EJ, the scent of her lovers'' skin.


    Purity''s scent was that natural sort of humanity, oil of hair and body, with memories of her pink-candy perfume and the shampoo from the bathhouse. Esthrielle''s own was more foreign: there was the humanity beneath, and further down, her blood, but those paled in comparison to silicone and that hot pseudo-scent of warm electronics. Foreign, chemical aromas EJ could only imagine were the lubricants in Est''s limbs... And, if she really focused, she could pick out the slight sting of nutrio-fluid.


    As much as these things inspired love, they inspired comfort, and familiarity. They were scents she had encountered time and time again, in each and every session of lovemaking; they greeted her whenever the three went to sleep together, or when EJ drifted from consciousness beside one of them at all; they were omnipresent at all gatherings of the trio. And this familiarity, this level of knowing one another, was a downy pillow and warm blanket for Esper James''s heart to rest upon.


    Slowly but surely, after allowing their togetherness to continue for what could have been mere minutes or entire days, the three stood. Esper James stepped over the bench, then taking Est''s hand to help her over, then the two of them helped Purity cross the wooden barricade. Est spoke up first, daring to shatter the silence like so much glass. "Let''s get a shower in, yeah? Cleanliness is next to godliness!" She couldn''t suppress a smile at that, turning her head down to look at EJ before looking up to Purity, gauging their reactions.


    Purity rolled her eyes and let out that sigh one does when someone makes a joke so bad it''s a little amusing. "Yes, fiiine, I suppose in the house of the Lord we had better strive for ''godliness'', yeah? C''mon, lead the way, Est. EJ and I don''t have any fucking clue where shit is in here." EJ smiled up at Est, then at Purity; she had nothing to add to the club retiree''s sentiment. Est cackled to herself at Purity''s feigned exasperation, giving a thumbs-up with her right hand.


    "You got it, babe. Just stick with me and I''ll take you two beauties wherever you wanna go, hahaha~ Oh, except like, the mother abbess''s room. Or Tsang HQ. Don''t, uh, don''t ask me to take you there, haha!" Esthrielle''s levity made sure that Puri and EJ had their smiles stapled firmly to their faces. The three began to make their way out of the room, then, with Esthrielle dutifully leading the way.


    Out into the hallway they had first entered from they went - then, immediately to the left. Further down the hallway, a right... then another left... then straight for a while... Honestly, it was a fucking miracle that Est knew where she was going, EJ thought, because the blonde was already lost. If someone had pointed a gun at her and told her to run back to the dining hall or she''d meet her true-death? EJ would''ve just told them to shoot her, so at least she wouldn''t die exhausted and confused.


    Eventually, however, the scent of myrrh and frankincense began to be tinged with more floral, artificial notes; the dry, temperature-controlled air began to heat up and take upon itself motes of humidity. They were getting close to their destination, and as they neared the showers, EJ found herself more excited than she had expected she would be. The bathhouse was nice, yeah... Or at least, as nice as a dive like that could be, given the crowd it attracted. A proper shower, though? In a place that they had been assured they were safe?


    God, it sounded so nice... Getting to wash away not only her own filth (of which there was little to speak of in the first place), but also the worries she had accumulated at dinner? Getting to get into those warm waters and just turn her brain off, especially with two cute ladies to keep her comfy? Esper James was taken back to her time as a normal citizen, daydreaming in her bed just before sleep, imagining a world where she could have a comfy shower with a fictional girlfriend... Washing each others'' hair... Embracing, while still slick from the water...


    Oooh, that sounded nice. A brief imagining of herself, Esthrielle, and Purity forming a little triangle and all washing one another''s hair put a gay little grin on EJ''s lips. Ooh, and they could all kiss... For the first time since she''d become a fugitive, the old dreams of sugary affection returned. She''d thought these thoughts before, for a long time, but never had a chance to act on them. Now that they were safe, at least for the foreseeable future? Now that she had lovers who would actually let her live these dreams?


    It made her heart flutter like an origami crane in a strong wind, wings flapping to fly away. She squeezed both of the hands she was holding, her smile widening to show off every front-facing fang her mouth could display. Purity looked down at her with a smirk of her own, gentle laughter pouring out of her split lips. "Oh~? What''re you thinking of, cutie? Oh, I bet I know..."


    Est turned her head to look at them, her own smug grin forming, brows furrowed in mock outrage. "Hold on, no no no! No shower sex, you two, they''re communal! Luca might be vouching for us, but once one of us gets our back blown out in front of the other nuns, we''re on the street for sure!" The feigned scolding was followed by laughter, the sound half-akin to the barking of a dog. Esthrielle had that sort of energy to her, EJ thought - an attack dog, but a good-natured one when the hunt wasn''t on. It suited her.


    Purity waggled her eyebrows and pursed her lips, a saucy expression taking hold of her face with an iron grip. "Oh-h-h~? Communal, you say? Well, when we''re done, it''s gonna be a cum-munal show-" Esthrielle let go of Esper James''s hand to give Purity a playful slug on the arm, and like that, the three of them were falling about themselves with laughter. If EJ''s heart was an origami crane on gale-force winds, hearing Purity and Esthrielle laugh transformed it into a real bird, its wings catching the current to fly even higher.


    Once their laughter had subsided, they walked in silence for a few minutes more before they reached a set of double-doors, still that same sort of hardwood as every other door in the place, but etched with a singular diamond shape on each door. Within the diamond shape sat a water droplet, a lonely but apt indicator of what lay beyond. Even without the pseudo-signage, though, the heat and humidity in the air, and the sound of flowing fluid from the other side, told the trio everything they needed to know.


    Esthrielle gave pause before they went in, turning to look at her lovers one final time before the fated entry. "Alright, so: we take a super long shower, maybe a nap if we feel tired or whatever, then I let Zofi know we''re ready. Okay?" A two-note chorus of "okay!"''s were the given response, and she nodded to acknowledge them. "Alright, ladies, let''s head in. Oh, and as a heads-up, it''s kinda weird to like... Talk to each other in the showers, yeah? At least, to girls you don''t know. Don''t, uh, don''t do that."


    That was fine by EJ. She had all the women in her life she felt like she''d ever need.

 Act Three (Ch. 59) - An Aggressive Interlude: The Killing Joke

    Kell sighed as she stared at the phone. Perfect. Fucking perfect.


    She, of course, got Purity''s message - the one telling her that she, EJ, and Est would be preoccupied for a bit, that they were busy somewhere with new friends. She got that one, just like she had gotten the one from her that they were off to that scummy bathhouse: what was it, something about Onigashima? It was about Momotaro, she remembered that much... The name had only mattered so that Kell could let her eyes and ears know about it.


    Of course, she had plenty of those... Eyes, ears, teeth, claws... But the latter two weren''t required for simple surveillance. Cinna was enough. Still first-living, still innocent and innocuous... Still in the same line of work he seemed to gravitate towards... Everything had been going fine. Three girls show up, don''t get bothered or do anything crazy... A blonde, a pinkette, and a girl with steel fangs...


    And then? A supercar had rolled up. Jet-black. Tinted windows. Not theirs, not from anyone that she knew. Said they were looking for the women inside. Cinna had folded and run, just as he always did... Just like he was good at. Kell allowed herself a wry, bitter smile at that. Cinna wasn''t the best at his role, but he always knew how to keep his head down and avoid danger; he''d never been caught, not once. Not like some of her people.


    She couldn''t help but think of the IRE site over on North Kashina - the one with the mass break-out. It had been a fucking mess, so she heard... but whatever had done it had helped her get some of her heads back in the field. None of them knew why the cell doors had all just opened like that - why the guards had been on lunch simultaneously. They had told her that there was a Tsang hit-squad there, though, in the main building... One that fired first, asked questions never. For every five people who made it out the front gates, a woman in a suit and her entourage had taken three.


    The crematoriums worked a double-shift that night, though it hadn''t made the news. Likely, it never would. That was typical - the news was for what Tsang wanted Vitus to hear. But that was a topic for a different time - she was getting distracted. Right now, her three girlies (though she considered them ''recruits in training'') were off somewhere with unknown forces, being sheltered. That was fine... but not knowing where they were, or what they might be telling their new patrons, was the worrisome bit.


    Kell stood from where she sat, looking around the empty breakroom. The scent of life still clung to the sleeping bags and the fabric of the couch; it smelled like them, the two true-living, and Esper James. Her wry smile lingered, though the bitterness within it only grew as the thought more on her new friends. They had no idea what the truth of this all was, did they?


    Esper James wasn''t so special, but she was just special enough that Tsang wanted her. Kell hadn''t known why at first, but back then, at the Kehler Complex? EJ and Purity had been in need, and seemed like they were sympathetic to her cause, so she had done what she could to get them out. Recruiting was hard when your entire movement was about disassembling the corporatocracy that controlled your entire city - if not your entire nation. That latter part put an acrid taste on her tongue, dark and awful as eating fresh ash; she spat on the floor.


    She didn''t need to look down at it to know it was black, and thick - thick like every fluid that still lay within the second-living.


    Her hand went to her pistol as she paced the room, considering how to proceed. Est had gotten in contact with the other Waywards in the city, more Knights to host the trio. The Knights would surely put EJ through her paces - trying to figure out what she knew about Tsang, what she knew about herself. It was funny, in a sad way - the Knights knew only a little less about the second-living than Vitus''s majority populace knew about themselves. The very company that drove them to death would never pull aside the curtain, not in a million years.


    After all, a magician never reveals his secrets - and Tsang Liwei wouldn''t reveal his secrets even if you had a gun to his temple. That old bastard, sitting in his high tower, lounging therein on a diet of blood and flesh... There was a belief, in Vitus''s undercity, that some of the disappearances in the city''s more shadowy corners were to feed the First Vampire''s appetites, regardless of their nature. Another heaping helping of bitterness was dished up, along with a garnish of regret - regret that she knew the truth of it all.


    She wished she could forget. She wished she could scrub her eyes and forget everything; it may be better to just not know, to go back to being a normal citizen... A normal person. But, that wouldn''t be possible at this point - and even if it was, this city needed her, even if she hated everything it stood for.


    Combat boots thudded upon bare concrete as she paced out into the hall, towards the main production room of the vacant factory. Hundreds of dead machines, barely beginning to rust even after so many years of disuse... They made her think of Vitus''s populace, in a way. Dead, and worse for it, but still able to function if you really tried. They could still do the work, still do what was expected of them, even if a little rust flaked off here and there.


    Her phone rang, then - she flipped her phone ''round in her hand, going to check who it was. ''Eddy Jacobs''. Fucker knew she was busy right now - what did he want? The phone was unlocked and set to speaker, so that Kell could keep stalking the empty production lines as she spoke. The phone almost immediately burst into sound. "Kell! Kell, where the fuck are you?! Like, ok, you''re at the factory, yes, but- fuck, can you make it home?! Kehler is swarming with guys, and...!"


    Gunshots filled the momentary silence of Eddy''s trailed sentence, a loud cry of pain from some distant source rippling through the smartphone''s speaker like thunder. More gunshots followed - automatic, fired indiscriminately, just trying to hit something, anything. Kell felt her muscles start to tense up, heat pouring into them from an unseen font; a familiar feeling. She rolled her eyes, playing the bitch - despite her body''s reaction, and the anticipation in her heart, she was trying to do some thinking right now. Eddy knew how to win the fight, if it came down to it.


    "Eddy. I''m at the factory. Do you need me? Do we want that? Pandora''s box can''t be shut once it''s opened, you know... Tsang can''t cover it all up. Too many people will die, first and second timers both. Do you really need me?" Her words carried the sort of gravity that young black holes hope to accrue when they grow up big and strong. Eddy was silent, only breathing heavily for a few seconds, considering what she had said without any immediate response. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse.


    "Fuck it, Kell, please! Otherwise Kehler goes down, and like-! Our guys are good, but I know some of them''re gonna squeal! These guys are the real deal, Tsang Riot Ops, we can barely even punch through their-" More gunfire, a rapid spray just as horrid and hateful as the last. Kell could practically feel the recoil of the weapon, imagining herself being the one firing it all... Imagining herself back there, on the front lines of yet another fight with corp-sec. It excited her.


    She sighed, successfully hiding the shiver that ran through her body at the promise of violence. "Fine. I''ll be right there; just hole up somewhere. You know where the fire extinguishers are; you know where the scab-solv is if they use silver. Hold tight. It''s about time we had a real wake-up call for this fucking city." And then, before Eddy could respond? Kell threw her phone to the ground, looking at it for only a second. She leveled her pistol towards its screen, and pulled the trigger.


    A grim satisfaction came from seeing a new hole form in the center of her phone. Then another, then another... gouging the concrete from the floor, and replacing it with hot lead. Tsang would''ve been triangulating their call... They would''ve had someone monitoring all calls originating from within Kehler. She wouldn''t be surprised if corp-sec was already on its way to her location, armed to the teeth, armored to the gills. They knew what she could do - or at least, so they thought.


    She dropped the clip from her pistol, catching it in her free hand. Back pocket always held all her ammo, and normally, she didn''t need that many rounds anyways... All it took was one shot to kill a man, if she aimed right. She had good aim, so she''d liked to have thought. The two bonus shots at her phone were for her own benefit - to feed the beast which lay inside, and to calm her quaking heart.


    The brunette began to make her way out of the factory, walking rather than running - restraining herself, and giving Eddy more time to try and figure this whole mess out himself. Why were Tsang at Kehler, anyways? Probably some kind of inspection, to see how that little blonde had managed to escape so seamlessly... To quash any dissidence within the populace, through removal of hostile elements. And of course, they''d found exactly what they were looking for: Eddy, and the others.


    Unlicensed civvies with stockpiles of guns and ammo, and more than enough stored gasoline and chemical supplies to make any kind of bomb or trap they''d need. Even if Eddy and his hadn''t been guilty, it would''ve been oh so very easy for Tsang to leverage the courts into just... pinning all the recent assassinations and firebombings on him. Even if he''d just been a normal citizen, one with a fascination with guns and chemistry but no history or intent of terrorism? They could put him away without a second thought, and throw away the key.


    Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.


    Ugh. So now there was a firefight - one that was heated enough that, while she couldn''t hear it from where she was right now, she was sure plenty of other people could. That was good, in it''s own way: political violence was something of an undercurrent within Vitus, an unspoken but accepted truth. Most citizens just looked the other way, tried not to think about it... Tried not to think about why their neighbor might get snatched by men in black armor, and then never be seen again.


    The front door of the factory was passed; out into the darkness of Vitus night, moon blocked by smog as per usual, streetlights the only way to see for a first-living. Kell''s eyes had long since adjusted to the darkness of the city, though - her pupils flared to monolithic proportions, eyes reforming in an instant to become almost entirely black. It hurt, just a little, a soreness that words couldn''t properly describe. She liked that, though... she liked the reminder that this wasn''t natural, that it wasn''t something she was supposed to be able to do. Her body wasn''t made for this sort of action, reforming itself on the fly like that.


    Up in the sky, distant but drawing nearer by the second, she could see a chopper. Jet black, to blend in with the pollutant clouds... The only tell that it was there at all was the swirl of airborne particulates it left in its wake. Just as planned, just as she suspected: someone had been tracking her call, and now that they knew where she was? She''d get company. Fuck it, though; she was already going to be hilt-deep in a fight in about ten minutes. Why not take these guys right now?


    The freedom fighter walked towards her bike with a nonchalant gait, silently willing the helicopter to get that much closer to her before she could hop on and start her drive. When she made it to her cycle - a sleek little sports-bike, off-white and gold, with a decal of a grinning skull - she was almost reluctant to put her key into the ignition. The first gunshot to pepper the parking lot, however, reminded her of what she was doing and who she was dealing with.


    It had been a warning shot, she knew that much - and much like every other warning shot in history, there wouldn''t be a second. She had to move quickly. The jagged key pushed into the ignition slot, turned to send the beast between Kell''s thighs roaring to life. The headlight had long since been purposefully smashed, so that she was just that much harder to hit when night fell... She didn''t need artificial light, anyways, at least not more than the city already gave. At her lap, the cycle howled like a wounded, metallic beast.


    And then she was off. Through the dingy gates of the factory, out onto the pitted, unused back-streets of the industrial sector... Her machine carrying her like Apollo''s chariot, though with less flame and more malice. The gunshots began in earnest once she began her planned escape, each measured shot meeting a less measured target amidst the rusted bones of the city. Kell swerved left and right, dipping and dodging unseen gunfire, knowing without seeing just when there was a bullet being sent her way.


    The exterior speakers of the helicopter lit up with sound, that airborn abomination now close enough that she could hear the rotors whir. "Female on a modified motorcycle, pull over now! Cease and desist! You are required for questioning in relation to a variety of crimes perpetrated around the city! Deadly force will be authorized if you do not comply!" Bang. Bang. Bang. Kell couldn''t help but grin at their wording.


    Deadly force? What did that mean, anymore? A concept like that would''ve just meant they''d shoot you, fifty or so years ago... They''d shoot you, kill you, mark you down for resisting arrest, and charge your family a fine for raising such a little brat. Nowadays, however, it meant they were loading silver - or, if you were in close quarters, incendiary. Dragon''s breath had come into vogue for breaching teams that needed to take down second-living criminals, after all... Luckily, there was no fucking way a heli would get close enough for that.


    Her right hand left the handles of her steed, drawing up her beloved pistol. Sure, they may be loading silver... but she just had full metal jacket. There was no reason for her to send them to a true death, and anyways, she liked knowing she could just punch through Tsang corp-sec armor like paper. That was more than enough for her... And enough to ward off most combatants, when a full-on fight arose.


    The pistol was aimed by instinct and sound, her visual focus retained upon the road. Three trigger pulls, and one sound of a metallic crumple as her shot rang true against the chopper''s chassis. Hopefully, there was something important where she was aiming - like the fuel tank, or some mechanism with the rotors, or whatever the fuck. What made helicopters work? Who the fuck knew, really? She wasn''t a chopper engineer; she was just a criminal who wanted to see social change.


    Bang, bang, bang bang bang. Gunshots continued to ring out, rapping out a drumbeat for the two vehicles'' marches to war. Up ahead, Kell saw the glimmer of street lights - and the concrete walls that surrounded the industrial district. Tsang had put them up to control the flow in and out of the mostly-derelict section of the city, to keep people like her out; all they had done, in the end, was make criminals more creative.


    And then, the street lights began to disappear as figures stepped out from behind the walls. A small box was set down, and kicked - from its rectangular form extended a long strip of metal, jagged spikes raising up out of its length. The figures took aim at her, but didn''t fire yet; they didn''t think they''d need to, of course. Good boys, Kell thought... Following orders, adhering to Tsang corp-sec training and policies. For an operation like this, they''d never fire on her unless she somehow made it past the spike strip. That was good.


    She couldn''t repress her smile anymore, tongue rolling along her teeth behind the ivory barricade they formed. Each one had reformed itself, from the flat dental structure of a true-living, into the alabaster spikes of a ghoul. Her tongue, too, was now pointed... More vampiric than ghoulish, but still every bit an indicator of her nature. Her pupils drew themselves inward, ocular flesh molding itself back into the amber rings of irises, set about ebon slits.


    She fired again, and this time, glass cracked as it was punctured. The sound of the helicopter''s rotors became more sporadic, more random and wobbly; they were having difficulty keeping it aloft, and its trajectory was changing by the second. Wicked laughter burst upwards and outwards from Kell''s chest, a maddening sound reflecting sadistic joy at her own actions. She always thought of this sensation, this excitement, as the thrill of the hunt - and while her pursuers surely thought her the prey, they had no idea what sort of predatory demon they were tangling with.


    Finally, a gunshot hit her - piercing her torso, puncturing both her lungs, the force of it throwing her spinal column into disarray. She screamed in pain with what breath remained in her lungs, feeling the rough cauterization of silver-tipped ordinance cap off her injuries before they could even begin to bleed. Her bike wavered, and she nearly spilled; through grit teeth she held fast, brow furrowing in determination, forcing herself to stay aloft despite the pain.


    All it took was a little focus... A little bit more than usual, just a bit of singular attention. She could feel it within her, in her long-dead meat... the cauterized bits, blackened from sudden flame, begin to flake away like so much rust. By the time she made it to the spike strip, her body''s regenerative factor had sloughed nearly all of it away - the exterior wall of her lungs was fixed just enough for one more push, one final breath, one crowning exertion. She drew the city air deep into herself, adrenaline thrumming in every synapse and muscle like electricity through a horrible machine.


    Inches from the spike strip now. She could see the faces of the security forces waiting for her; see their smug grins, the casual way they stood, guns far from readied. They knew she was going to hit the spikes and spill - she was going to end her run here, and be secured, and brought in. That would be the end of it, they knew... or so they thought they knew.


    Her grip on the handle of her bike intensified, white-knuckle, so forceful that she could feel the metal begin to bend beneath her hand. And then, her feet went down, twin bolts from the blue. Lightning never strikes twice, but tonight, something so similar as to be interchangeable went through. The soles of her combat boots ground against the rough asphalt for a microsecond before pushing on through, generating enough force to leave indents in the ground - blackish-grey material compressing on itself from Kell''s motion.


    She caught air - just enough air to clear the spikes, but that was plenty. The gunshots began in new force once she touched down, but they were too bewildered to aim well. That was fine. She was just as shocked as them that that had worked. Within her body, she could feel the coarse sensation of the last bit of cauterized flesh flake away to be replaced... her spinal column fully righting itself, setting her back straight upon her bike.


    Alright. To Kehler Complex, then. It was about time this little private war became that much more public invite, she thought.

 Act Three (Ch. 60) - A Four Letter Word; or, Heartsblood Banquet

    Then, through the door.


    The shower room reminded Esper James, quite honestly, of a prison - or what she imagined a prison to be like, at least. She''d seen plenty of movies and TV shows with prisons. This was evocative of them at first glance, and not nearly so ornate or ostentatious as the rest of the convent had been up until now. Perhaps more modern amenities like showers weren''t deemed worthy of the same sort of reverence?


    The entire room was well-lit and steamy, bright light seeming to stream in from false windows on either side, their faces so glowing and vague as to appear filled with bright natural light. The rest of the room, however, was composed almost entirely of smallish baby blue tiles, square in shape, with stark white grout forming a grid between the tiles themselves. In the center of the rectangle of a room was a single long, raised wall that didn''t quite touch the ceiling, but was tiled just the same as the floor. From this central wall, further partitions were made at about waist-height, sectioning off individual areas without hindering airflow or damming up the steam.


    These sectioned off areas each had a single spout, an upscale but simple fixture which poured forth warm water onto any potential occupants. As for toiletries? Each of those waist-high partitions held a metal grate-like addition atop it, each of which was filled with shampoo, conditioner, bar soap, moisturizer, exfoliant... and so on, and so forth. The selection of amenities available seemed to be the nicest thing about the room, to EJ.


    A small section at the front of the shower room, where the trio had entered, was drier than the rest of the room; here, metal bars held discarded habits and unused hangers; below, a shoe rack contained a veritable army of black leather dress shoes. Esthrielle began to disrobe immediately, stripping down out of her own nun garb; EJ and Purity soon followed suit, taking a cue from their white-haired partner.


    There was something soothing about feeling the warmth and moisture of the steam on her skin, EJ thought. It reminded her of home... Her real home, the apartment that had been her home for so very long. The memory of that place struck a very bittersweet note within the ghoulette. She had spent the better part of forty years there... Thirty years at least, every one of them beginning and ending in that Kehler Complex studio apartment. She had even had the same appliances during that time; it wasn''t like keeping the old ones would make her sick.


    She felt her heart quiver gently, and only once, at the thought of it - the thought that she''d never see that Kehler Complex apartment again, in this life or the next. She doubted she''d even see Kehler Complex itself ever again... Never see those familiar stairs, that same old elevator, the awful wallpaper that had ever so slowly been growing on her. It was good, she knew - her waking mind knew, at least - but she still couldn''t shake the sudden flow of grief she was feeling.


    This, of course, formed a river of emotion that poured down the storm grate of a familiar, melancholy line of thinking. ''Would things ever be normal again?'' was the topic, and while she knew the answer that she always found, that old flame of hope simply refused to be snuffed. Heartsflame is hard to extinguish, it seemed... and Esper James was never good at finishing the job, at least not without some sort of punishment acting as a threat, should she fail.


    As she thought, she peeled herself out of her habit; Purity and Esthrielle assisted, both of them ending up doing far more work than the ghoul herself. EJ''s face and hands (she was a bit of a messy eater) were still a touch bloody, and it would be in everyone''s best interest for her not to bloody her custom outfit on her first day. Once the diminutive dame was freed from her trappings, and said trappings were hung with care, they ventured forth.


    Esthrielle led without speaking, just bringing them to an open slot on that central wall. Esper James couldn''t help but look around, if only to glance at the other nuns and see how they were bearing themselves within the shower. Each seemed fairly lax about their actions, but despite this lax nature, they had the wherewithal to stay focused on the task at hand. For most of them, that seemed to be washing their hair. Seeing how many products she had access to, and free reign to use? EJ was thankful for two extra pairs of hands to help her out.


    Once they were comfortably stood in a vague triangle within the pseudo-stall, Esthrielle reached over towards the shower head - and, turning her wrist as though she were working a knob or dial, she compelled the water to begin its flow. Immediately, the outpouring water was warm nearly to the point of being scalding; not that EJ was unaccustomed to warm waters, but feeling such a deluge of instantaneous heat and wetness put some of the shower''s mists within her own mind.


    EJ stood there shell shocked, able to bear the heat only just; Purity skirted around the edges of the downpour, not even daring to broach the heated rains. Esthrielle, by contrast to the other two, hopped right in - benefits of synthetic skin, it would seem. She wetted her hair almost immediately, and there was something nearly humorous in her look: EJ, through her hazed perceptions, thought she was a bit reminiscent of a damp housepet, like a dog. It was kinda cute, that shock of spiky white hair, only an inch or so longer than a pixie cut, now clinging to her head and rich with damp. There was a brief, ill-conceived urge to pet the Italian.


    Esthrielle wasn''t dumb; at least, she wasn''t dumb in this very moment. One glance at her lovers diagnosed the issue. Purity''s well-meaning smile, nearly a grimace, was enough - EJ, pressed by the enormity of the heat into immobility, was icing on the realization cake. "Oh, fuck... Haha, sorry, ladies... I, uh, I like my showers hot. Here, lemme just, uhh..."


    Another turn of an unseen dial was directed towards the shower''s base. The steam rose with less thickness, then; the water came with less of a lobster-in-a-pot feeling. Purity dared to take a step forth, trusting the shorter girl''s judgement, and a breath of relief signaled her own satisfaction with the new temperature. Esper James, too, found herself no longer choked by the miasma of superheated sterility that such a downfall brought. Her mouth broke into a smile - at first laced with trepidation, but growing in enthusiasm as seconds whiled away.


    Pale arms were thrown wide, and suddenly, Purity and Esthrielle were both gathered up in the strongest, most loving hug the ghoul could muster. She pressed her face into the crevasse between the other two women''s torsos, nuzzling in and letting out a giggle. Est''s eyes snapped wide, and she made a surprised sound; Purity, though, just went with it, and joined in her petite playmate''s grin and giggle. Est found herself the odd one out in an instant, not really hugging the other two, nor smiling at first - though it took mere seconds for her lips to split and spread in a spoiled, guilty smile, the kind you make when you get a treat you don''t think you deserve.


    Her own arms went about the other two women, and in that moment? Est didn''t give a single fuck what the other nuns might have thought of the three of them. She didn''t care usually, of course - those bitches were stuffy and uptight, and didn''t care for Est''s brash way of doing things. But right now? She cared even less; in a way, she wanted them to see her indulging in her love, allowing herself to be swept up in a wave of appreciation and carried out to sea. Maybe they''d finally realize what they were missing.


    The hug lasted for longer than was necessary, but nothing close to past its welcome. The mechanized rainfall of hot, steam-wreathed water set each of their hair to slickness, and while they were mostly clean from their bath the day prior, the shower washed away more than filth and grime. Little by little, Esper James could feel the weight of stress and doubt being scoured from her very soul by the onslaught, replaced by a vigor and confidence shaped like Est and Purity.


    God, it felt so fucking good, letting those thoughts slip from her grey matter to be whisked into the drain at her feet. Tsang? Fuck those guys; she had people to help deal with them, or at the very least, keep her safe from them. Her blood hunger? Purity and Est were right there, and both had become accustomed to helping her feed - they both had minute scars to prove it. Judas?


    That one gave EJ a bit of pause, but her emboldened heart broke on through the vampiric mental wall. Judas left a stain, it was true - in some ways, Esper James would never be able to forgive or forget her old boss. Black hair, black tie, hiding in her wifi... Monitoring everything she did or said during work hours... Keeping track of her outside of work hours... three, nearly four, decades without reprieve? Her thought processes were far too molded by the demure dominatrix to ever be remedied in full.


    But Judas couldn''t, and wouldn''t, touch her in a Knight stronghold like this. Even if she found the place, EJ didn''t think Judas had the power or the authority to organize a kill squad large enough to feasibly assault it. And if this convent went down? Luca would get them in somewhere else, right? Surely. He was the doge of Venice, whatever that meant... He seemed to have power and authority in spades, more than enough to rival or outright out-rank Judas Alighieri.


    Esper James drew in a great, deep breath, and let it roll from her in a satisfied sound. God, it felt fucking good to not be worrying for once. It felt kinda weird, too - like, wrong. It felt wrong and unnatural, having nothing on her mind that set her on constant edge - she had walked on eggshells for her entire unlife, and now she was simply freed of that? A part of her, a sliver inserted by hundreds and hundreds of romantic and erotic novels, yearned to think that maybe Est and Puri would teach her how to be normal. Maybe they''d even kiss her along the way.


    Scandalous, EJ. Truly scandalous.


    Her already wide smile spread even more taut for but a moment, another giggle escaping her chest. She gave one last nuzzle into the shared torsos she held before her, and then pulled her face free, looking up at the other two girls. Purity looked down at her and kissed the air, blowing it down to the blonde; then, the pinkette looked over to Est and had to put a hand over her mouth to muffle a hearty laugh.


    Esthrielle''s face was more richly-coloured than usual, the already gingerbread-toned girl''s eyes lidded lazily with that same guilty-pleasure expression plastered firmly to her face. Her steel fangs seemed cute, in that smile: the jaws and maw of a predator, now bared in simple delight. Purity moved the hand from her own face to go about Est''s waistline, palm resting on her hip; the club darling''s other hand went back and around, up to the opposite shoulder of the dazed woman. The two met in the middle for a combination of a loving embrace, and a passionate, appreciative kiss.


    Est felt fucking selfish, but in that most wonderful of ways. She barely had the wherewithal to form her lips into a mild pucker before Purity met them; when they did meet, there was an instinctual desire to swap spit, but the sound of a distant bather beginning to hum to herself reminded Est where the fuck they were. She restrained herself just enough to not start tangling tongues with the taller dame, instead allowing herself to drown in the rising tide that was Purity.


    Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    EJ was ecstatic. Her heart leaped and soared, watching the two women before her embrace and share a passionate, genuine kiss. Along with those other worries which had mucked up her brainpan, she could feel her trepidation about Est''s participation melt away like chocolate under a hot sun. There had, of course, been some lingering doubt, and honest concern, that Est may have only gone along with this throuple thing because the other two wanted to. Now, seeing her heart as open as it had ever been, and reveling in it?


    God, it felt so good. EJ had to hold herself back from wrapping the two women up in yet another hug, instead remaining content to just watch and admire the performance. Purity and Est continued to kiss, lip-lock breaking for a moment to reform time and time again, Purity''s hold on the other girl becoming that much more amorous with every repetition. Est was a beachgoer caught in riptide, and she let herself get swept out to sea.


    Eventually, they broke apart, to a chorus of one offering them a squeal of delight. EJ clapped her hands as the two parted, applauding the display; she didn''t care if it was a dorky thing to do, she was too caught up in the moment to care. Purity chuckled at her ghoulish gal pal''s excitement, arching her brows downward and giving a taunting look of superiority to the blonde. "Oh-h-h? EJ, you wanna be next, huh? C''mere, you little homo. C''mon, no take backs, you''re mine now."


    EJ yelped like a puppy as she was swaddled in girlflesh, Purity''s arms and body threatening to drown her in soft and silken luxury. And then, their lips were touching - not that EJ would have protested in the first place, but there wasn''t even a window provided for such a thing to go through. Instead, she simply let herself get carried up and away by Purity''s love, mind in freefall only to be caught in a Puri-shaped net.


    It was Est''s turn to sit and watch, and truthfully, she was eating it up with both hands. There had been an... appreciation, she would say, for EJ ever since that first night they had met. Meeting a woman who had felt so similar to herself, to very fucking normal despite all the evil of Vitus, had charmed Est in a way. She had had fond remembrances of snuggling the blonde in that shared night, back in EJ''s bed at Kehler Complex. Of course, she had felt badly about it, and never planned to pursue it.


    Why would she? She was in Vitus, initially at least, to kill the undead, not kiss them. Two four-letter words, beginning with K, that held very different intent. And then... then the meeting at Judas''s place had gone down. She realized she couldn''t bring herself to go for a kill-shot on the little ghoulette, and that ate away at her even as she escaped, broken and battered, into the night. It was only after EJ hunted her down and let her live, despite it all, that the ice on Est''s heart had cracked.


    Once she was repaired... she had wanted to find the ghoul, just to give her proper thanks for not killing her. At least, that was what Est had told herself at the time, and it was mostly true. And then, once she had found her... well... one thing led to another, and now they were here. The three of them. Hands held, standing against the world - between West and East, a mingling of dichotomies dead-set on remaining apart.


    Whereas EJ had been able to restrain herself from interfering with Est and Purity''s comingling, Esthrielle wasn''t so adept at burying her own emotional impulses. She threw herself to the other two women - not splitting them apart, but wrapping them up in a great big hug to help keep them together. She felt a wetness run down her cheekbones and drip from her chin, and convinced herself that it was just the water from the shower. EJ and Purity didn''t look to her to try and scrutinize that, either; she was allowed to cope however she needed.


    Once the blonde and bubblegum had finished their pairing, Purity turned to Esthrielle, expression still smug and self-satisfied. "Oooh, Est... So eager, huh? I think you should take my place... You two got to watch me mack on the other, but my popcorn''s still untouched. I want a chance to watch the fireworks~" A coy little wink came and went, and Est felt her heart flutter with the wings of a butterfly. She looked down at EJ for permission, still just as excited, but wanting to ensure consent before making a further move.


    Consent was freely, and immediately, given. EJ nodded, eyes bright and wide with delight; her arms slipped away from Purity and went about Esthrielle now, going to draw her in. The gesture was returned, and the two drew closer, chests touching... but neither one wanted to make the first move to kiss, it seemed. They simply drank in the moment, eyes locked as their lips should have been, living forever in that single moment.


    "Oh, come on, love birds! Get busy!" Purity laughed, as light and twinkling as the stars in a rural sky; her hands went to the backs of the other two''s heads, and firmly but carefully pressed their faces together. Lip met lip in an instant, and EJ let out a gentle ''mmmh~'' that set Est''s butterfly heart ablaze like never before. Any semblance of ice had long since thawed... and in its place, a roaring pyre of all her years of grief and isolation poured sweet smoke into the sky.


    It was Purity''s turn to sit and observe, though she wasn''t quick to draw her hands away. She gulped down that amorous draught as quickly and eagerly as a woman lost in the desert swallows fresh water; it was healing for her, too, setting her sights upon such a scene. She didn''t think nearly as much, nor as hard, about it - she had been healing herself ever since her first night with EJ, weeks ago now, and would like to think she''d been making good progress.


    Every time she thought of that day with Kristoff and Alex, she regretted it. There wasn''t a single part of that day she had to be proud of; even now, just letting her mind wander, she was burning with a shame that she was glad the other two couldn''t see. Feeding EJ human meat had been... a bad decision, for so many reasons. It had been a terrible thing to do to those other girls, girls who even now were probably in desperate, dire need... Girls Purity would have to send a text once she was back in the trio''s shared room.


    But more than the human meat thing? She could have killed her past self for the other thing. She didn''t even want to consider it enough to directly address it; it was the lowest of the low points in her life she could think of. Here and now, though? Knowing EJ, and now Est, genuinely liked her? They cared about her? They wanted to see her happy, see her flourish, see her live a peaceful, love-laden first life?


    It was overwhelming to the pinkette; so overwhelming she could feel herself begin to slip, her measured grip on her own emotional state straining to hold it all in. She had to do something else, even if watching Est and EJ kiss was like an all-you-can-eat buffet for her own heart. Her head whipped over to the metal rack on the nearest partition, hands going to rifle through it immediately, trying to find whatever the hell Easterners passed off as shampoo. Surely they''d have the good stuff, right? This place was pretty ritzy...


    As for Est and EJ, their bodies were as flush as their lips, and time felt slow for both of them. Twin hearts resonated with one another, chests thrumming with muffled euphoria, each still reeling from their time with Purity. Now, doubling down with one another? It was quite the experience, to say the least. EJ''s hands yearned to explore, more out of instinct and training than desire for anything salacious. After all, this was a communal place; the sound of other showers reminded her that they may have an audience.


    An audience other than Purity, that was. And so, she contented herself with just kissing the other woman, letting their hearts and bodies remain intertwined for as long as Est wanted - and, honestly, that could have been forever, and EJ wouldn''t have minded at all. Just as EJ was about to break away to whisper some words of adoration, tongue aching to speak gentle praise to her Eastern amour, she felt Purity''s hand return to her head. This time? It was soapy, and set about lathering her hair from tip to root.


    "Keep kissing, cuties... I''m gonna do your hair while you smooch. I know we''re not on a time limit, but, y''know... If I can''t keep my hands to myself, might as well do something useful, right?" Another chuckle, soft and sweet, a lovingly-made nest for the two shorter girls to rest within. A renewed vigor was added to their kissing; Est seemed that much more impassioned as Purity began to lather up her hair, the angle of the kiss shifting as her head leaned instinctually towards Purity''s touch.


    After some further lip-lock, the two women broke their mouths from one another but remained close. Purity, in the meantime, washed their hair - and once their hair was washed, she took the absolute liberty of doing their body wash, and moisturizer, and conditioner... Everything she could get her hands on she used, cleaning the girlies up as best as she knew how.


    Once she was done with Est and EJ, it was her turn to be cleaned - many hands make light work, and while she was more than eager to stand still and let herself be adored, the other two women quickly and emphatically set about cleaning every inch of the bubblegum bitch that they could. Eventually, all three women were spotless - both in heart and mind, and in body and soul. There was nothing quite like a good shower, really, and this shower was nothing if not good.


    Each of them lost track of time once they stopped washing one another, focusing more on simply mingling and chatting and relaxing, letting the heated waters of the convent wash over them. However, as all baths and showers must, this one eventually came to an end: Est led the way back to the pseudo foyer, and showed the other two where to find towels. Toweled, dried, and re-dressed, they took a second to stand and look at one another before even thinking about what came next.


    Est was the first to speak, then, daring to broach the next event on their checklist. "Okay. Quick nap, while we''re all clean and cozy, and then... I''ll contact Zofia. We''ll make sure she doesn''t do anything too weird, EJ; I''ll sic Luca on her if she tries some real bullshit. Ok? Let''s head out." Purity and EJ both nodded their assent, forming a vague pod as they strode out into the hallway.


    A nap sounded nice, EJ thought. Just like everything else that had happened since she reached the convent, save for the blood stew, it sounded like exactly what she needed. Her hands slipped into Est''s and Purity''s as they walked, taking them palm to palm, and squeezed them tightly. Both squeezes were quickly, and emphatically, returned. She sighed with that kind of relaxed contentedness one has after a long, satisfying day - though a long, satisfying night may be more appropriate, as it were.


    Next up, a brief nap. And then? Zofia''s ambiguous mystery tests. Oh, how fun. But EJ felt like she''d be able to handle them - whatever they were.

 Act Three (Ch. 61) - Barrow Sleeper; or, Necrotic Wound

    Slowly but surely, with no conversation but wreathed in comfortable silence, the trio made their way back towards their dorm. Soft footsteps on soft carpet... The scented smoke, which lingered in a vague haze about the ceiling... For the first time, they saw other women in the hallway. Nuns simply drifting by, each one walking with a steady but relaxed gait, as if they had nowhere better to be... EJ made a mental note to ask Est about that. No one seemed to be very busy; it wasn''t anywhere near the military barracks she had been imagining.


    Handholding came, as it always seemed to, with each woman participating without the need for verbal discussion. It felt as natural as breathing once had to Esper James... as natural as breathing still did, to her lovers. They fit together perfectly as they walked, each motion complementing that of their partners: footsteps followed footsteps, shifting to the left to avoid a passing nun was a fold like an accordion''s closure. Their closeness in the shower lent itself to a physical and emotional proximity when outside of it; they had been spending so much time together, it was hard to imagine themselves apart.


    Each footfall was muted by that thick carpet, but spontaneously, Purity slipped her hand away from Est''s - Est, this time, had been the filling for their sapphic sandwich. Est went to say something, turning her head to address the pinkette; perhaps she had been gripping Purity too strongly, or her hand was too warm, or the feel of her synthflesh had become unpalatable? But, instead of a livid lover, she was rewarded with the very beginnings of a performance.


    Purity''s face was drizzled with self-satisfaction as she began to dance, waltzing about the rug as they walked, hands raising and falling as she made sweeping gestures to accompany her swaying hips. Even in the slightly-too-large habit, which draped itself about her otherwise voluptuous frame, she moved with real grace - her time in the varied clubs of Vitus had taught her body as well as any teacher, and her dexterity was enough to halt Est''s words in her throat. EJ, too, was left with mouth agape as she watched.


    That could have easily been more from her amorousness for her first-living lover, though, in all honesty - the swell within Esper James''s chest was colored a stark orange, red, and white. From side to side her pelvis swayed, a boat rocking on an ocean of sudden, soaked joy; there was mesmerism in the movements, and the other women could only find themselves transfixed.


    That is, until Purity bumped into a nun as the latter made to pass her. The bump was unintentional, and wasn''t even that hard; the nun was set off her stance for less than a breath, righting herself and stopping in her tracks to cast a curious glance at Purity. Purity, by contrast to the nun''s placid lake of a face, was nothing but stormy seas. Her mouth fell aghast, eyes went wide, colour rushing to her face to shame a cherry. "Oh, fuck, I''m so- I mean, err, dang it, I shouldn''t swear around holy women, um, ah-!"


    The nun''s placidity snapped as crisply as a celery stick, lips drawing wry and thin. She shook her head with gentle motion, nearly as graceful and measured as Purity''s dancing, her chest-length black hair swishing about as she did. She opened her mouth to speak, but it took some time for the words to come; when they did, her vocal cords sounded to have forgotten speech as a whole, only to be impelled by a sudden reminder. "You are fine, sister Purity. I understand you and your companions, sister Esthrielle and sister Esper James, are a bit more coarse. You are not faulted for it; we all have had a time when we were not part of the crusade, oui?"


    And with that, she was off, still smiling to herself as she drifted away. Purity''s face burned hot and bright, eyes flashing to Est and EJ for some backup. Est looked positively indignant at the other sister, boiling blood threatening to send steam from her ears; Esper James, however, was little more than awed. Purity''s dancing had caught her up in its joy - and the nun''s words had done nothing save soothe EJ''s worries about being treated as outsiders. No harm, no foul, right? She hadn''t seemed harmed.


    Est rushed over to Purity, dragging EJ along with. "That... That fucking bitch, how dare she talk to you like that?! Ohh, you''re coarse, huh?! Fuck her! God damn Frenchwomen, always thinking they''re so...!" Est''s anger flamed out after that point, having boiled well over the ridge of her temper''s pot. She growled, casting a venomous glance at the now-distant woman.


    EJ stammered to interject, face a sudden strike of mingled worry and false joy. "Woah, woah, hey...! She seemed fine! Purity didn''t do anything wrong, the nun seemed pretty okay, y''know? Water under the bridge, ha-ha-ha! Let''s... Let''s keep going, okay?" She went to put a hand on either woman''s hip, for no reason more than to ground and placate them. Purity was happy for it - hearing how incensed Est was had done little for her own mood. Esthrielle, after a moment to consider the other two, allowed herself to be appeased.


    "Fine. Maybe she''s just... I dunno, uncouth? Or maybe we give off the wrong impression? Who cares. Let''s go back to our room; I think I need that nap more than ever, now... and besides..." A stray thought drifted through the Easterner''s brain like a moth lost in a warehouse, eventually bonking into the walls of her skull and producing an idea. She smiled mischievously, throwing an arm around the other two women and dragging them close, swaddling them in a three-person embrace.


    "Besides, I think a good group-snuggle would be a great way to get nice and cozy before we sleep. Yeah? C''mon, just the three of us, lazing around in our room like a bunch''a bums... K-Keeping close under the covers... Haha, that would be, uh..." Words failed her as a runner''s legs after a marathon, giving way from beneath to let the rest of her sentence collapse beneath its own weight.


    There was still some difficulty, and even some trepidation, to such outright expressions of adoration for Est. She had never really been accustomed to that sort of thing, after all; and here, now, after everything that had occurred in the last two weeks, she was thrust into a world of emotion and closeness she could never have imagined. Finding the words to correctly convey her emotions wasn''t just difficult; it felt wrong, like she was indulging in a pleasure too guilty to be properly administered. It felt selfish, to see herself beside the other two.


    Esper James picked up on that negativity nearly instantly - now just as before, she and Esthrielle were more alike than either could ever truly consider. She knew all too well what it was like to be unable to express positive emotion due to believing herself unworthy, or undeserving, of it. On the internet, they called it ''impostor syndrome''; EJ wasn''t sure if that was a real medical term or not, but it sure fucking felt real. She didn''t want Est to flounder and feel any worse, so the blonde was quick to jump in.


    "Yeah! A good cuddle session sounds great, Est! I''d love to get a chance to get nice and cozy with you two, hehehe~ Ok, c''mon, let''s go! You can''t just put that sort of idea into a girl''s head and then drag your feet making it a reality!" EJ took the two''s hands once again, going to tug them back down the hall; Est was quick to lead the way again, falling back into her role as the leader of the trio. Purity was silent but smiling, still trying to calm herself down, but there was wordless thanks given for the chance to get back to it.


    Down the hall they went, then, just as they had been not long before. The amount of nuns they saw gradually dwindled... and by time they reached the door to their own room, they seemed to be just as alone in the hall now as they had been when they had first awoken. Est gestured to the door with the same panache as a gameshow hostess showing off a hot new prize; Purity gave her a flamboyant bow, playing into the bit, before pushing it open.


    Within was the same as without - empty, and just as it had been when they had first risen from the depths of slumber for dinner. Clothes were left exactly where they had lain... The bed was in the same state of disarray, bedsheets and comforter in that same rat''s nest that came from three people sharing the same bed... it was reassuring, EJ thought. Some part of her had worried that the nuns would be rifling through their belongings for whatever reason, maybe even just to fuck with them and put them on edge.


    It was calming to know no such thing had happened. After the trio were all fully in the room, EJ lamented the lack of lock on the door - sure, it didn''t make sense to have a lock in such a communal place as the convent, but still. Apparently her worries weren''t shared in her companions'' brains, though - Est had already begun to undress, nearly tearing her habit with how she made the fabric strain in her haste. She cursed and cussed as she fought with the midnight hued cloth, commenting on the marital state of its mother, the legitimacy of its birthright, and calling into question its intelligence and predisposition towards mothers.


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    Purity, meanwhile, shimmied out of her habit in an instant. Once again, a skill that seemed as much a natural one as a trained one: her grace was once again called upon to display itself, and it did so admirably. It reminded EJ of a snake shedding its skin, and while that wasn''t the most flattering comparison the ghoulette could have made, it did still feel the most apt.


    She realized, then, that Purity and Est were undressing, and here she was, standing there and watching like a fucking weirdo. That put her body into double-time to peel herself out of the religious garb as quickly as possible, having just as much trouble as Est was; the custom-fitted garment was body hugging, and detrimentally so. She fumbled and futzed with it, brow furrowing, a scowl beginning to form... Every failed attempt beginning to fan the flames of frustration at her core...


    After her fourth or fifth attempt to worm her way out of the habit, that frown of rage ever more prominent on her face, Purity''s hands came down to EJ''s slender torso to assist. The taller girl giggled softly, tutting her tongue in such a way as to be obviously sarcastic. "Oh-h-h, EJ, what''re we gonna do with you? You can''t even get your own clothes off... God, imagine if we were gonna screw, huh? You''d be over here floundering, wriggling like a worm, while Est and I had a go at one another on the bed...~"


    The thought was capped with mocking laughter, but the mockery was only barely at EJ''s expense. With Purity''s help, EJ''s body was quickly and cleanly excised from its textile prison; now, she stood in little more than the bottoms she had arrived in. That was the perfect sort of attire to snuggle in, though, so she hardly cared. Besides, what did she care if her beloved partners saw her semi-nude?


    She certainly didn''t give a damn. Puri and Est didn''t seem to give much of one, either - at least, not more than usual, at least. The usual amount, of course, being enough to stare a little in appreciation, and silently appraise every facet of EJ''s physical appearance to fixate even harder on their favorite aspects of the blonde. Very normal things for them to be appraising, I''ll have you know. EJ wouldn''t have been able to refute that claim, even, had it come up in the first place.


    She pouted once Purity had stripped her bare, crossing those pale arms and casting a pseudo-salty gaze up towards bubblegum skies. Looking up to the sky with such a sour face only brought down the rains, of course - in this case, Purity''s lips. The pinkette''s hands started at EJ''s underarms and slowly made their way down, reaching the shorter gal''s hips and pausing just as Purity''s lips met the blonde''s face. First the forehead, then the nose, then the cheeks, then a momentary locking of the lips... and then, absence.


    EJ whimpered softly as Puri pulled away, the familiar gesture having drawn up familiar feelings within her. Now wasn''t the time to properly address them, but still, it was nice to be put in that place... To be reminded of the love she was subjected to, and allowed to revel in it. Esthrielle, meanwhile, finally pried herself free of her habit and whipped it to the floor, giving it a pissy little kick only a hair after it had collapsed into a heap on the carpet.


    "Bitch." She nearly spat at the habit, a representation of the evils of cloth confinement... but she was gonna be wearing it later, right? She didn''t want to wear an outfit that had her own spit soaked into it. That was just weird, especially since she hadn''t had a chance to brush her fangs after dinner. Instead, she settled for a disdainful sneer, giving it another kick - this one sending it away, to one of the unoccupied beds on the other side of the room. She turned, then, to see how her partners were doing.


    Heat prickled at Est''s face for the second time in less than an hour, but this time, it wasn''t out of bottled rage that she felt her ears and cheeks flush as darkly as they could. No, in truth, it was raw embarrassment from seeing Purity and EJ staring at her, faces amused, lips pulled into affectionate - if taunting - smiles.


    Esthrielle opened her mouth to say something, anything, gesturing towards the balled-up habit as she did; when no words came, she drew her head down and her shoulders up in a graceless pantomime of a turtle. The Wayward turned on a heel and stomped, defeated, over to their shared bed before leaping straight in. As straight in as one could when it was in such disarray, anyways. Purity snickered softly, taking Esper James by the hand without even looking. EJ allowed it without question.


    The pink-haired princess led her ghoulish gal pal over to the trio''s resting place, nodding for EJ to clamber in first - as the smallest of the trio, she should be the filling for their love pierogi. EJ obliged her, scrambling onto the bed and skittering beneath the sheets and blankets, disappearing from view for a moment. Est raised a brow, looking down towards a shifting lump beneath the bed''s thick comforters... and then gasped, exclaiming at the peak of her lungs.


    Esper James''s head popped out from beneath the ridgeline of the comforter, right over Est''s own; it seemed the ghoul had straddled the Wayward, and was now laying chest-to-chest with her like some kind of second-living body pillow. Or, considering the situation, maybe Esthrielle was more of the body pillow between the two. Slightly bigger, slightly squishier (thank you, silicone and latex exterior), somewhat more synthetic... Yes. Esthrielle was definitely the body pillow of the two.


    Purity giggled, putting a hand over her mouth to play at hiding her mirth; in truth, she wanted them to see it. It was the gesture itself that mattered, not the result of it. Her hand was removed, and she stepped over towards the bed, slipping in with a measure more grace than her mischievous and/or frustrated partners.


    Once she was in, Est turned to flop EJ back onto the bed, between herself and Purity. The trio came together wordlessly, as none were required; they let their bodies, and the closeness they now shared, do the talking. Est drew in a deep, deep breath, and let an even deeper yawn flow from her cracked maw; once it was finished, she gave EJ a peck on the forehead. Purity and Esper James followed suit with the yawn - and once EJ was done yawning, she kissed Est on the neck before flipping ''round to give Purity the same treatment. Purity returned the gesture with the same target Est had chosen, a second kiss planted beside the first''s impact.


    Esthrielle spoke up then; she had really become accustomed to taking the lead with these two, espeically here in the convent, but she was more than happy to. In truth, she kind of appreciated it... appreciated that they let her do the leading, directing them around, taking them places. It was a respect she had never really felt from the other nuns; all it took was a crippling amount of trauma, and the bonding of shared misery, to get that treatment. Funny, that.


    "Ok, ladies... We nap for... Two hours? Three? Three. Three is a good number... Uh, fuck, er, yeah. Okay. Three hour nap, snuggle up nice and close, and then we get the hell up and I message Zofia. Short sleep, cuddled up all nice and warm, and then go do testing. Sound good?" She was met by twin heads nodding in unison, which she responded to with a single curt bob of her own noggin.


    The covers were pulled up to their necks - Est''s neck, at least, leaving EJ slightly concealed by the comforter - and then, eyes found themselves shutting gently and peacefully. It was gonna be one hell of a night when they awoke, wasn''t it? If it was still evening when their eyes opened anew, at least - who knew if they''d even wake up in time? Maybe Esthrielle had some kind of alarm installed in that head of hers, another chrome implant screwed deep into her overclocked grey matter.


    The lights flicked off by unseen motion or unspoken command, and the women went to sleep. Shared breaths, shared warmth, shared love... Esper James could only find herself hoping that things could stay like this forever. That nun in the hallway had called her and Purity ''sister'', right? Were they nuns? Were they part of the convent? That might be... nice. A permanent place to rest their heads, regardless of anything else... That was the dream, she thought. Somewhere they were safe. All of them.


    Sleep came quicker than one may expect - a good, hot shower can ready you for bed way more than you may expect. And when they awoke, the tests would begin. No more delays. No more getting sidetracked; no more excuses.


    Or so they all hoped.

 Act Three (Ch. 62) - Drinker of Joy; or, Pulse Impulsive

    Sleep came with dreams, as it often did for Esper James nowadays - but this dream was nowhere so long, nor so infuriating, as her last. It was a simple dream, one that spoke to the closing of wounds deep within her heart''s flesh. In her dream, she and Esthrielle and Purity were in a field, one of the great wheat fields of the southern UNAC. The sun shined overhead, no longer obscured by clouds of smog; it was brighter than EJ had ever imagined it could be, though her eyes didn''t seem to sting at the sight of it.


    In fact, on the topic of daytime, she felt plenty of energy - energy that usually dissipated at the sun''s light. It was invigorating - empowering, even. Feeling the warmth of the springtime (summertime?) wind, the sun on her bare skin... Oh, she was wearing a sun dress. That was a bit odd; she''d never owned a sun dress before, much less worn one. But it felt appropriate. All of it felt right.


    Purity and Est were sat upon a red and white plaid blanket, the cozy kind you wrap yourself in during the coldest months of winter. There, they were setting up a picnic, drawing items out of one of those stereotypical wicker baskets, the ones with two lids. First came a bottle of wine, some Moscato whose name was illegible... EJ only knew it was Moscato because she had helped pick it out, of course. Then, after the wine glasses, sandwiches - they were wrapped in plastic, but EJ could tell they were chicken and mayonnaise, with some sort of green.


    She couldn''t have told you what the veggies were if you asked, but she knew they were there.


    And then, grapes. Oh, the grapes looked excellent: heavy, juice-dense red grapes, an entire vine of them. And what was that last thing, in a rigid plastic container? Surely it wouldn''t have fit inside their basket... but out it came, regardless. EJ couldn''t see through the frosted design of the translucent plastic - only able to pick out a vague, dark brown shape - but the scent of chocolate came rolling through the partition anyways. Oooh, cake... Cake sounded excellent. Cake sounded amazing. She wanted cake so fucking bad in that moment.


    Purity turned to her and snickered, waving the blonde over. "Come on, sweetie! You''re gonna miss out if you don''t come join us, y''know - we spent so long packing this all, wouldn''t wanna waste it, you know?" That was all it took. Of course that was all it took, the simple invitation coming through with the urgency of an order within EJ''s mind. She wouldn''t want to disappoint her lovers, of course. They''d spent all morning packing this!


    Esper James trod over with restrained enthusiasm, dropping to a sit, her legs crossed and her butt comfortably placed upon the blanket. Est and Purity sat similarly, the three of them forming a rather perfect triangle, with the basket set off to the side and the foodstuffs in their center. Without further ado, consumption began in earnest. Simultaneously, it seemed to be done in an instant and yet last forever - the flavor of the chicken and mayonnaise on EJ''s tongue so creamy and savoury, the sparkling fruitiness of the wine like a dream, the dark, saccharine notes of the heavy red grapes lingering far longer than even the most reluctant houseguest.


    And yet, when they were done eating, the sun was still exactly where it had been. The breeze still blew warm upon their bodies, bringing with it the distant scent of flowers - no flowers EJ had ever smelled, but she supposed that she''d also never really left Vitus, so perhaps it was just her own inexperience that led to her ignorance.


    Esper James was aware that some conversation had been made, and may still have been happening; perhaps her own mouth and tongue were joining in, frolicking within one another as a single entity, speaking words of love and joy to an audience of three. She couldn''t have told you what she said, though she could hear herself saying it - and she could see Esthrielle laugh and snort, eyes narrowing down to blink away tears of mirth. She could see Purity blush and swoon, giving EJ a gentle push on the arm, her words telling the ghoul to stop but her body silently begging her to flirt even more. They were both loving it.


    EJ knew, somewhere in herself, that she was loving it too.


    And then... they finished their food, finally, even though EJ hadn''t eaten anything in an uncounted expanse she approximated as ''a while''. The flavours on her tongue still felt fresh, and she shuffled between them at will - though all that was put from her mind as Purity drew her attention to the plastic container, Esthrielle grabbing it and beginning to open it.


    "Esper James... Today is a really important day, you know? It''s the anniversary of the three of us starting to date. It''s been-" A loud-yet-soft sound, like the vibration of rushing wind in one''s ears, came from Purity''s mouth. "-years since we got together, right? Well, to celebrate, we got your favorite: chocolate cake!" As Purity said it, Est''s fingers pried the lid of the plastic casing free. In its absence, there was revealed a luxurious-looking ring, glazed over with coffee-coloured icing.


    It was as rich and dark as grave mud, and smelled so strongly of cocoa that EJ briefly wondered if she might faint. She could imagine the flavor here and now, the deep, bottomless chocolate abyss of it all... The way it would take her by the tongue and lead her far from the light, down, down, down into an endless, hopeless well of sugary delight. It would melt itself up like fondue, only to then pour over her brain, chocolatey drizzles seeping into every wrinkle and nook of grey matter. It would consume her just as she consumed it.


    Ohhh, that sounded good. Yes, yes, yes, she had to have some of this cake. She loved chocolate. She began to reach for it even as Purity started to cut into it, divvying it up with a knife she had always seemed to have had. Est took EJ by the wrist of her reaching arm, stopping the ghoulish advance with a snicker of her own. "Oi! Before we start diggin'' in, EJ, we''ve got something we wanna discuss with you!"


    EJ felt her face flush red with embarrassment and hot crimson blood, a bashful smile drawing itself like a blade''s kiss across her face. Est was right - there was no need to rush through things. Here they were, together as a trio, enjoying the sun and some food. Better to take things slow, and really drink it all in. Est gave her a wink as EJ leaned back to her seat, the Wayward releasing her ghoulfriend''s wrist and going back to her own hunched posture. Purity dished up the three enormous slices of cake, placing them upon disposable paper plates and pairing them with plastic forks and knives.


    Then, once each of them had a plate before them, Purity nodded to Est. Est nodded back, a giddiness heretofore unseen upon the Italian''s face rushing to the forefront of her visage. She turned to Esper James, drawing deeply of the midday air in a greedy breath, releasing it slowly and steadily to steel herself. And then, she began to speak anew.


    "Esper James Price-Wynnfield. We''ve been through a lot... So, so much. So very much, and all of it, we''ve been through together. We''ve seen each other at our lowest and highest, at the depths of despair and the heights of ecstasy... We''ve been by one another''s sides for-" Again, that sound of vibration, as though water pressure was straining at EJ''s eardrums. "-years, ever since we first met in Vitus... And now, here? We''re safe. We''re loved. We''re together, and nothing can ever pry us apart."


    Esthrielle continued to smile as tears formed in her eyes; Purity, too could not stay the wetness that gathered at the edges of her eyelids. They both were gripped by emotion in an instant - Esper James found herself feeling like she was falling, though not in an unpleasant way. It was far more akin to the drop of a rollercoaster, where one enjoys all the twists and turns, and the anxiety and apprehension from each and every drop is part of the delight. She couldn''t help but smile from ear to ear, as nervous as she was excited.


    Est continued then, blinking away some of the feelings that clung to her eyes. "Purity and I would never have been here without you; and without us, you''d probably still be at Tsang. We were made for eachother, love. S-So, aha, uh... F-Fuck, I''ll just..." Esthrielle shifted her stance back a bit, straightening her spine so she could reach into her pocket. She fumbled with something for a few moments, a sheepish tinge now tainting her anxious excitement. Purity put her hands into her own pockets for a second as well, going to futz with something of her own.


    Had they always been wearing pants? Was Esper James the only one in a dress? Seemed so; she couldn''t recall what the other two women had been wearing only moments ago, so she supposed it had to have been pants. Est was wearing her HATEFUCK tank top, very normal for her... Purity was wearing a lovely orange blouse, loosely fit and comfy looking. Both were looks that made more than enough sense, EJ figured, and so she didn''t think upon it any longer.


    Esthrielle''s hand recoiled from her pants pocket, trembling now, going to hold out something small. Her other hand shakily came to the top of the small box, gently flipping it up and open to reveal the plush white interior. Esper James nearly screamed aloud, a vocalization ripping itself free from her voice box with a sound like squeaking ice.


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    Within the small black box sat a ring, plain gold, with a trio of stones set within it: a pink sapphire, a topaz, and some whitish stone she couldn''t identify at a glance. Something told her it was a diamond, though from how perfect it seemed, it was likely man-made. "P-Please, Esper James, marry me. Marry Purity. Marry the both of us. Be our beloved bride forevermore, and... A-And make our new life together that much more official. Please..." Est had begun to cry outright now; her smile never faded, but with gentle shakes she sobbed soundlessly, and the tears formed twin rivers to outline her cheekbones.


    Purity was crying as well, now - her hand had been removed from her pocket and was put forth, palm down, displaying a ring of the exact same sort as the one in Est''s box. The pinkette''s smile was wavy, threatened by the swell of raw emotion in her chest which was fit to burst free at any moment; still, she held on strong. As strongly as she could, at least.


    "EJ... Please, sweetheart. We love you. We love you more than anything else in the world. W-We''ve been talking about this ever since we came up to Nova Scotia... We got your parents'' blessing to ask you... Would you make us the happiest women in the world, sweetheart?" That was the extent of what Purity could muster; further speech would only invite the collapse of tearflow which hung as Damocles'' blade above the bubblegum babe''s heart. The two other women were as still as they could be as they waited for an answer.


    Esper James''s brain was whirling like a top. She said yes, right? She had to say yes. This was exactly what she wanted! It was everything she had ever hoped for, ever dreamed of! To be loved by the sweetest, most delightful, caring, compassionate women she had ever known. To fall asleep and wake anew at their sides; to see them every day forever; to hold them in her arms just as she was held in theirs. There was no way she could say no. There was no other answer but to accept.


    "I... I a-acce... Er, Y-Ye-!"


    -


    Just as she went to agree, the blonde snapped awake. Instantly, a few things came clear: the first was that the scent of flowers in her dream? It had been the incense of the convent. They must''ve put out a new batch while she napped. Secondly? She wasn''t getting married - not any time soon, at least. The blonde''s heart felt as heavy as lead as she looked down to regard her snoozing sweeties, the both of them still in the depths of dreams. The yearning ache to reach out and swaddle herself between them even further than she already was nearly overwhelmed the carnivore, but she managed to restrain herself for their sakes.


    The final thing that really struck her about the dream was the food. She hadn''t had chocolate, real chocolate, in decades. Nor had she had cake, or grapes... or any alcohol that wasn''t spiked with blood. So why was she dreaming of them now, of all times? Why hadn''t the picnic of her dreams been one where they''d packed food to fit her dietary restrictions? It wasn''t nearly as sanguine as she''d have preferred... but still, it all felt so real. That cake had tasted so... lifelike.


    She mulled it over with a heavy heart and heavier mind, thinking on it with malaise that bordered on depression. She had been so close... If only she hadn''t stuttered, if only she had been able to just say ''yes'' like she wanted... She wanted it more than anything in the dream, and yet here and now? Her yearning to accept was even greater than it had been in that mind-made field.


    With a deep sigh, she nestled herself back into her lovers'' embrace. She stayed that way for at least an hour, eyes staring up at the ceiling, ghoulish senses allowing her to pick out the delicate stonework even through cover of darkness. Wanting it did nothing for her, of course, but she couldn''t help but keep replaying that scene in her head as the minutes whiled away. A field, back in Nova Scotia... They had mentioned her parents; were her parents still alive, then? It had been so long since EJ had spoken to them.


    And then, finally, movement from her left side. Esthrielle began to awaken, a soft beeping coming from somewhere within her head - EJ guessed the Wayward''s mouth, given how it became ever so slightly louder as the woman opened her mouth to yawn. Esthrielle rose up slowly; the beeping stopped, and the lights came on, though at a dim glow rather than the normal level from before. She leaned over to put a hand on EJ''s shoulder, gently shaking her ''awake''; then, the same treatment was offered to Purity.


    "Oi, ladies... C''mon, babes, we gotta get up. Nap time''s all said and done, yeah? I mean, shit, I''d love to laze around in bed some more, but..." The rest of her sentence was eclipsed by another yawn, the force of it making her lower jaw tremble almost imperceptibly. She pulled her legs back in to crouch upon herself, then stretched them back out to stand upon the bed. It was a simple matter to hop over Puri and onto the floor.


    Purity herself awoke with a soft, sleep-addled grumble, her eyes blinking open like a lizard staring at the sun. She wasn''t so spurred into motion as Est was, though once the Easterner sprung over her and landed, Purity seemed to remember why they had even awoken in the first place. She forced herself to a sit, rolling her head and shoulders as a yawn of her own poured from her mouth. When finally it stopped, she peered down at the blonde beside her and gave EJ a gentle, love-laden smile.


    "C''mon, little lamb... Up, up. We''ve got a big rest of the evening ahead of us, yeah? Ahead of you! You''re gonna do so great tonight, I just know it... I don''t think there''s anything Zofi could throw at you that you couldn''t handle. Come on, let''s get dressed. Hey, Est, you''re messaging her, right?" Purity leaned down to smooch EJ on the cheek before swinging her own legs over the side of the bed, pushing the comforter and sheet aside by virtue of a sluggish stand. After a momentary stretch, she went to gather up their respective habits, handing them out like gift boxes.


    Est nodded. "Yeee, of course, Puri. She''s all good to go; I know where her lab is, and she sent directions, so we''ll be there asap. Just gotta get dressed - oh, hey, how''d you two sleep?" She took the offered habit from Purity with a muted sense of disdain, not for the pink-haired socialite, but for the garment she now gripped.


    EJ pantomimed a groggy wake up, rolling out of bed and faking a yawn to seem as though she had also just awoken. She didn''t dare tell them the details of her dream... It seemed like it would be way too forward, she figured. After all, what, they had been dating for less than a week? Like, yeah, Est had been around longer than that... They had shared an incomparable level of closeness, and related on so many levels, in so many ways... But still. Telling your girlfriends of a cumulative two or so weeks that you had a dream of them proposing to you?


    It seemed a bit rushed, no matter how good it felt. So, EJ simply shrugged. "It was pretty good... Good sleep. Comfy-cozy between two cuties, how could it not be? Heheheh~ But yeah, no, feeling... rested and recovered, I guess. You, Puri?" She regarded the tallest woman with a quizzical glance, a single eyebrow raised in inquisition. Purity handed EJ her own custom habit and nodded, a smile blooming on pink lips. "Yeah, I slept great. Like you said, hard to sleep bad when I''m all snuggled up with you two. Est?"


    Est found a smile of her own to produce, plastering it upon her face like a billboard. "Yeah! I slept really well, actually... It''s good to be back home, in the convent. Good to sleep on convent beds, not some dusty-ass couch, or a sleeping bag. Plus, y''know... It''s sure nice to share someone else''s body heat, heheh~" She gave Purity a wink, and - upon noticing EJ''s gaze had shifted to her - offered the same gesture to the tiny blonde.


    EJ drug up a smile as well, completing the trifecta. She shimmied into her habit without assistance, much easier to get on than off; once it was on, she yawned again (this one genuine) and put her hands on her hips. "Alright, Est! Lead the way! I''m as ready as I''m ever gonna be, and I''d rather get through whatever bullshit Zofia''s got cooked up for me when I''m still full of energy! It''s like ripping a bandage off, y''know?" She sprinkled a touch more joy into her bared teeth, the edges of her lips curling just so; Purity ruffled the blonde''s hair, rolling her eyes.


    "Uh-huh. Yeah, let''s go. Est?" Puri turned her head to Est, who gave the two an affirmative nod. "A''ight, let''s head out! Testing, here we come... Whatever the fuck testing entails. We''ll stop her if things get too weird, EJ. Now, stay close to me - these are busy hours at the convent." And like that, the trio began to move. Out into the hall they went, and just as Est said, there were dozens of nuns milling about or heading to destinations unknown. It made EJ think of the crowds at a concert venue.


    But, of course, tonight''s concert would have her as the headliner - and her audience was eager to see her perform.

 Act Three (Ch. 63) - In All My Dreams I Drown; or, Puppet Show

    Through the convent they marched, footsteps soft yet meaningful upon the scarlet fabric below. Three ladies venturing together towards an unknown inevitability - only Est would have had anything close to an idea what lay in store for them, and she didn''t seem particularly keen on sharing. Or, it could have been the density of the nuns in the hallways... they were stuffed to the gills with Waywards, women of all shapes and sizes, each of them lingering in little cliques and pods though remaining eerily silent.


    Their silence remained as the trio passed them by, ducking and weaving between each cluster of holy women... though while soundless, they were not immobile. Legs pivoted atop ankles, and torsos upon hips - nearly every woman whom they passed turned to look at them, considering the outsiders like the watchful, impassive eyes of sacred idols. Their eyes flickered and flashed with the gleam of digital activity, data streaming in and out to wherever it was intended to be, binary pigeons carrying messages to new, unknown roosts.


    It was unnerving, to say the least. At least, EJ felt it was - so many people, each of them watching without blinking, without emotion nor expression, barely a movement from their respiratory functions... For a woman who was a genetic anomaly, resurrected from complete termination by some arcane chemical slurry, the mechanized maidens about her set the ghoul ill at ease.


    After a harrying trek through the valley of the dolls, the three finally arrived at a new pair of doors. These, unlike those of the rest of the convent, were not wood - rather, they were composed entirely of polished, thick-looking stainless steel. Also unlike the other doors in the convent, these were met at the middle by an archaic-looking lock of sorts: a diamond-shaped protrusion, with the shape of a hand in its centre. There was doubtlessly some sort of sensor, EJ figured... but it must''ve been quite diminutive, seeing as it was completely hidden from view.


    Esthrielle took a deep breath, looking briefly to her companions. "Alright, girlies... This is it, yeah? This is the... convent research lab. Zofia''s little playground. Whatever you see in here, that''s.... all her. Guh, sorry, I''ll shut up. I''m just scarin'' you, I''m sure..." Est brushed her hands clean of guilt upon her thighs, that wasted emotion sprinkling to the ground in minute shrapnel. EJ looked up to Purity as Esthrielle steeled herself; the blonde wanted to try and gauge how her bubblegum beauty was doing.


    Purity was pale as a ghost - sure, she was normally fairly pale (not ghoulishly pale, but still a sharp shade of snow), but in this moment she could''ve concealed herself with a printer paper sheet. She was putting on a brave face, though; her fraying nerves were only shown through the pallor of her face. And, of course, her hands: they were white-knuckled and trembling ever so slightly, all earlier confidence and bravado having melted immediately upon seeing the steely door before them.


    EJ could only guess at why Purity was so nervous - after all, she wasn''t gonna be the one subjected to testing. She''d be safe and sound in some kind of observational booth or something. They''d have one of those, right? Est had spoken as though they did... and frankly, EJ wanted her lovers to watch. She wanted them to watch so that they''d know what happened, but also so they could intervene if something, anything went awry. This was the sort of situation that always went awry in the movies and manga and stuff.


    Est pushed her right hand, palm down, into the darkened slot on the doors'' convergence. There was a tiny metallic whir and the sound of electronics for one, two, three seconds, and then a soft hiss as pneumatics released and gears began to shift and turn. The twin doors split then, receding into the wall at a respectable but just a step from startling pace. On the other side, the lab was revealed.


    There was no foyer, no waiting area, no reception; it was straight into the meat of things, and what meat there was. Tiled floors and walls of riveted alloy plating composed the place - there was no shortage of flat slabs of metal in the Waywards'' warehouses, it seemed. Off-white tiled with black grout between them evoked both a mad scientist''s workshop, and the work floor of a butcher shop''s back rooms. That felt more and more appropriate as EJ''s red-flecked emeralds painted the room with her vision.


    It was a long room - a side hallway broke off to the east after entering through the steel doors, but the main room was rectangular in shape. A variety of lab equipment lined the eastern and northern wall, either perched atop white-surfaced countertops or built into the floor and wall, flush with the counters themselves. The stereotypical accoutrements were quick to see: a centrifuge, microscopes, an enormous fridge beside a slightly smaller freezer... but more than just these, there were exotic assemblies that didn''t quite fit into EJ''s fictional fantasies.


    It was less than worth considering, though - the three women weren''t the only ones in the lab, and those who were already present demanded attention. Namely, Zofia and Angelien, and surprisingly, Luca. The first and last of that troupe were peering through the long window that lined the western wall of the lab, silent as stone and yet still moving, nodding, or gesturing; Angelien, however, seemed like she couldn''t care less. She was the first to see EJ and her gal pals, and so, she was the first to greet them.


    "Hello, hello. Welcome to Sister Zofia''s testing grounds. We''ve been eagerly expecting you. These two are... embroiled in something at the moment. In the meantime, Est, take our test subject to get ready." And thus ended Angelien''s greeting, capped off with an order for her peer. The disinterest in her tone made it hard to believe she was here voluntarily... but also, it was hardly the first time Angelien had taken the tone of a woman who would rather be anywhere else.


    In fact, it was doubtful there was anywhere on earth she''d want to be in a general sense.


    As Est led her lovers into the lab, the steel door moved itself shut with automated precision. Gears once again ground and clockwork spun, digital discretion allowing the steel airlock of a portal to lock them all in. No going back now. Esthrielle turned to EJ, nodding curtly - and grimly - to her. "Angelien''s right, EJ. Follow me. The testing area is, uh... Well, if they''re starting with it, then it''s probably a good sign. That means that the rest of Zofi''s tests won''t be too demanding."


    No further elaboration was provided; instead, Est took EJ by the wrist and pulled her along, taking her through the doorframe to the side room. Before they had fully entered, however, Est turned back to address Purity. "Oh, shit, Puri... Just go chill with Luca, okay? I''ll be right back... it''ll just be a sec. The door''s right down the hallway." Purity seemed shocked to have been addressed in the first place; once she had managed to process what Est had actually said, however, she nodded rapidly. Too rapidly, in fact - movements too jerky, neck too tense. She was still fucked up about all this, it seemed.


    EJ was ready to just follow Est and not think about what she was going to be doing, but seeing how bent out of shape Purity was over it, she couldn''t help but feel poorly about the whole endeavor. Plus, the sudden introduction of a ''testing chamber'' was even more foreboding, EJ felt - what the hell sort of things would they be doing that they needed a whole separate chamber for? There was a very real thought, for a split second, that maybe they''d hurt her to test the second-living''s regeneration. That would be... less than enjoyable.


    A deep breath in, a gathering of courage, and then a great, desperate release. This was for her girlfriends. This was for Purity and Est, for their safety, their happiness, their comfort... their future. As long as EJ went through with this, she and her lovers would be taken care of, theoretically indefinitely, by Luca himself. It was a necessary evil, to work with the Waywards... to go through with whatever the Knights wanted of her, regardless of how horrible it may turn out to be.


    She could only hope it wouldn''t be too horrible. EJ nodded to Est as Purity made to join Luca. "Est... Est, you''ll really step in if they do anything fucked up, right? And like, I mean really fucked up. H-Here, uh... Let''s... let''s have a safe word, okay? Like... Y''know. A safe word like for sex. A ''stop hurting me'' word, a red light. Sound good?" EJ cast a trepidation-laden glance up at Esthrielle, who could only nod, before leaning down for a brief moment to plant a kiss on EJ''s forehead.


    "Aight. Safe word, let''s do it. If you say it, that''s my cue to step in and stop things. What... what would you want it to be? Something easy, something simple." Est may not have been familiar with the concept of safe words, EJ didn''t know what her experience level was, but she hit the nail on the head with what it was supposed to be. Something simple... something easy to say, and something EJ would never say under normal circumstances...


    Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    Esper James could only smile with a wry sort of amusement as her brain stumbled upon the one thing she knew would stand out to not only Est, but also to Purity. "Taxes. No one likes ''em, y''know?" The recitation of a line from over a week ago brought cynical laughter to Esper James''s lips. Est looked confused for a split second, but she ended up deciding to just shrug her shoulders and accept what she was given. "Okay, yeah, sure. Taxes. No one likes ''em. Got it. Do you want me to tell Puri, too, or just...?"


    EJ shook her head, the laughter fading but the smile yet lingering. "No, no... she knows. And besides, it''ll just worry her. She''s already dancing on a razor''s edge with her nerves; telling her we think there might be need for a safe word will only rile her up more. Not in the fun way, either. Okay... Take me to the door, or whatever. Let''s do this. " Her earlier unease had drained itself from her mind, apprehension remaining but all nausea and fear having dribbled down into the ghoul''s mental gutter. She was as ready for this as she''d ever be.


    Est took EJ''s wrist again and began to lead her through the surprisingly cluttered side-room; the room itself wasn''t as large as the main one, but it was still fairly sizable, and was chock full of different apparatuses that could theoretically be used for practical testing. A treadmill... A medical bed, hooked up to a variety of machinery... A suspiciously home-gym looking thing that was similarly attached to observational readouts. There were other things, of course, but they were too obscure to be discerned at a moment''s notice.


    The Wayward led her lover to a door at the far side, a steel airlock just like the doors to the lab had been. Instead of a hand-activated lock, though, this one had a scanner of some sort placed directly beside it - Est leaned down, planting her spare hand on the wall to steady herself, and looked straight into the scanner. There was that mechanical whir and electric hum yet again, before the door slid into the wall to provide the pair egress. This time, however, it would be a journey for only one.


    The other side of this door led to a small, straight staircase, angled downwards to end up about eight to ten feet below where they currently stood. And then... presumably, out into the observation chamber. Esper James gulped down the last bit of protest she may have had to give, and stepped through the airlock. The door shut behind her. She was alone, once again.


    It was odd, and it immediately struck her so: to be separated from Est and Purity, after having spent all hours of wakefulness with them for days on end. Even if it was only for a brief bit, and they would still be there but distantly... It had an isolating feeling, one that made EJ''s deadened flesh stand on end. She knew it was better this way, not having either of her ladies join her, but... but still, it felt odd, and lonely in its own little way. She hoped there''d at least be some kisses in her future, once this was all said and done.


    Like a good little girl, eager at the prospect of praise and adoration, EJ set forth those handful of feet down the stairs. As she reached the last step, the testing chamber loomed before her: whereas the lab had been steel-walled and tile floored, this room was composed of large white slabs with black segmentation between them. The walls, the ceiling, and the floor were all the same in this way; the floor had a large central segmentation slashed right down the center, from end to end.


    It made EJ think of a blood gutter at an abattoir.


    She took a deep breath, rolled her shoulders and neck to loosen herself up just that much more, and stepped forth into the fluorescent light of the chamber proper. She naturally gravitated towards the center of it, and once she was about there, she looked up towards the only feature in the room: the large window, twelve or so odd feet in the air, tinted so as to be one-way. That was ominous.


    Suddenly, a voice crackled in through an unseen speaker. "Hello~! I''m so glad to have you, dearest guest, sister Esper James. There are a variety of things we would like to be testing today, of course... But we don''t have time for all of them. Of course, the majority of the testing we have in mind here will be done in the practical observation room - the room you passed by while entering the test chamber - but... Well-ll-ll...~" Zofi''s voice trailed off, and was replaced by a sinister giggle posthaste. A chill dragged itself from the tip of EJ''s tailbone all the way up her spine.


    "Some of our tests can get messy! And, with someone like yourself at our disposal... A real, genuine second-living... We have some very crucial, very messy things in mind. Firstly, a question for you - and don''t worry, I''ll be able to hear you if you speak normally. The question is this..." There was a pause; a silence, brief but lingering just long enough that it seemed to take an eternity. EJ shuddered despite herself. Off to the side of the chamber, at the foot of the stair she had arrived in, another steel airlock slowly shifted itself into place.


    "How long can you hold your breath? Hahahaha~!" The segmentation on the floor of the room split apart right down the middle, that thicker, darker line now revealing itself to be a genuine meeting of two mobile portions, rather than just some kind of gutter. A trio of slotted circles were set in the floor, reminiscent of drains but with their slots filled with further metal. Near the roof of the room, four (one on each corner) small, hidden compartments made themselves known.


    Black nozzles poked from each of them. These nozzles began to, without further ado, release water into the room. It was far from a flash flood, but the deluge began quickly and in earnest regardless, the waters up to Esper James''s waist in only a handful of minutes. EJ didn''t know what to say; it wasn''t obvious if Zofi was actually expecting an answer, and if she was, she wouldn''t be pleased with the answer EJ had to give. That answer, of course, being ''I dunno''.


    As the water reached a height that set EJ to begin to float, Zofia piped in again. "Oh, Esper James... It seems that your partners are very worried about you. I assure you, this is not a practical test of such things - you will be free to end it at any time. I won''t subject you to drowning for my own amusement. Plus, I know that the second-living aren''t exactly immune to drowning in the same way they''re immune to gunshots or grenades. So, calm down if you''re stressed. We won''t be drowning you to death.


    That was a little reassuring - but a little reassuring was better than less-than-reassuring, EJ supposed. She sat there, treading water, until finally the flow stopped - still about four feet from hitting the ceiling, so she wasn''t in great danger of being forced into a tight spot. Not yet, at least. They''d stop her if she tried to fill it much more, right? Right? She had to believe it.


    Drowning was one of the few evils that ate away at a second-living moreso than any other death - other deaths were temporary, for the most part, and while drowning didn''t lead to true-death... it was worse. If you drowned, and there was nowhere for your body to float to? If you stayed beneath the waterline, starved of oxygen and light and life, condemned to a watery death? Sure, the regenerative properties of a second-living''s body would keep restarting them, never fully letting them die... but that was exactly the issue.


    If you drowned in such a state, then you''d awaken, find yourself deprived utterly of air to breathe, and then drown all over again. The cycle would repeat ad infinitum, until something put a halt to it. Over and over, again and again... The painful process of drowning, sucking in water as you did, your life fading from you, only to be jump-started by your regenerative abilities to begin the process anew. It was purgatory; it was Hell. There was no avoiding it once it began, and no salvation in sight.


    Second-living daredevils who liked to deep-dive into the forbidden, winding caves deep beneath inland ponds and lakes or the ocean itself often carried silvered knives for exactly that reason. Tsang had once made silver ''poppers'', little contraptions a bit bigger than a pill that would fire a single, silver-pellet .22 into the brain when triggered by the tongue. These had been the popular choice of desperate last resorts, but they had become vogue for suicides, and so production stopped. Silver blades were left as the only way out.


    All these concepts, unavoidable truths, flashed through EJ''s mind as she considered what came next. She wouldn''t drown, no... but she''d hold her breath for as long as she could, and she was worried that it would feel like drowning. She never wanted to know what that felt like... Even when she was living, she had been deathly afraid of dying at sea. Lots of bad dreams in her youth, lots of nightmares of being a pirate and having some great sea monster smash her vessel, condemning her to a watery grave. Too many pirate video games, she figured.


    Well, whatever. She had to do what she had to do. A single deep breath, the biggest breath she could ever remember taking, and then below the water she went. At least it was warm.

 // Act Three End // (Ch. 64) - Drowning Dolly Day; or, Bitter Cherry Almonds

    The water was warm on EJ''s skin; her hair pooled on the surface after she dove beneath, surrounding her head with a halo of blonde the further she went. Her habit was soaked straight through, of course - in this, it was a hindrance as much as a necessity. If Zofi hadn''t been there, she might''ve considered just trying to rip it a bit, so it wasn''t so damn form fitting... but, though she couldn''t see them, she knew the nun''s eyes were upon her. It would''ve been a bit too rude to damage a gift so soon after its receipt.


    If naught for her own focus and determination, she began to make those old, familiar motions - motions she had not taken in years, for an act her muscles could never truly forget. Black-clad arms pushed out before her, then swept wide at once, a snow angel made in the depths of this artificial pond. Each one set her deeper towards the bottom, that great wide-tiled floor coming ever closer every time. The buoyancy of a corpse is lessened without the associated putrefaction; this corpse was thankful for that, at least.


    Ten feet, then eight, then six... Muscles which rarely tired, if necessary, made the swimming itself a simple task. Little breath was spent on replenishing the oxygen in her oily blood; instead, with cheeks puffed as a chipmunk''s, she clung to every mote of air she had grasped. Finally, the bottom of the pool was within her grasp, tantalizingly close - only a finger''s tip away. If she stretched, if she really tried, put her whole body into it... She shimmied between strokes, raising one shoulder and lowering the other, trying to make contact.


    It was then that the first pang of pain resonated within her chest. Lungs that needed little air still needed air, after all. It was enough of a shock that it drew her out of her determination, if only for a split second - a second that was spent rising closer to the shimmering surface, that water having long since lost nearly all motion.


    It was jarring, in a way, feeling a pain so intrinsic to the humanity within her that had lain dormant for so very long. Vitus was smog-shrouded, yes, but the robust physiques of the second-living rarely made much of a fuss over that; and again, the second-living rarely dove too far beneath the water. Esper James hadn''t been in a body of water larger than her apartment''s tub in... well, she would have liked to say years, but the bath the other day counted. So, since then. But still.


    Another pang, one she now strove to fight against. It was anything but agonizing - she had felt real agony too recently to correlate the two - but it was just enough to begin gnawing at her. Moment after moment sluggishly trudged by, idle footsteps made by the feet of clocks; the longer she stayed beneath, the more intense the pain became.


    At first, it had only been enough to startle her, reminding her of her own organic aspects. A low, dull pain, but one which stung at the edges like stretching a fresh scar. The stretched scar sensation slowly ramped with each instance; what was scarred became a bruise, it seemed, the thrum of discomfort growing more intense and aching for that much longer. Esper James thought, then, of a fowl being stuffed. That was her, in her mind - at least, the sensation had to be the same.


    A duck forced to eat so that foie gras could be harvested from its twitching corpse... An Esper James forced to hold her breath so that... what would it be, she wondered? If she were livestock, what would people want her for? Her meat? Yes, that was it; her meat had seen plenty of mouths at this point, and she had yet to receive a complaint. She had been butchered and consumed so many times already, she figured, even if the consumption was little more than metaphor.


    Then it struck her, just as the pain in her lungs and throat did. Roth had called her a lamb... at times, she had certainly felt like one. A dumb little lamb, so used to living on the farm that she had never roamed the wilds; never drank from a stream, nor slept beneath a woodland canopy. Of course, those weren''t things lambs were supposed to do; nowadays, sheep were far too woolly to survive on their own.


    But still! She felt the analogy was still more than apt, given how trusting she had always been; how eager to be led to the slaughter she seemed to be. Ever since she had arrived in Vitus, she had never known a moment where she wasn''t being coaxed into some great slaughterhouse to be butchered, so that someone more powerful could eat her meat and dress in her shearling. Now was barely any different - a new farmer, sure, but still they wanted her meat. Lamb was too delectable to deny, it seemed.


    That reminded her that Luca had promised her lamb, but she''d been given pork. Those fuckers. Everyone else had had steak!


    Her petty rage was amplified by the thudding in her sternum, the ache of breathlessness now spreading to the rest of her torso. Her lungs had begun to truly burn, throbbing and crying out soundlessly for air; her core felt tight, and fit to burst from the exertion of holding her breath; her legs, too, had started to feel strained and impotent all at once. The bottom was so very close... She was so very near to it. She had been right there just a moment ago - how had she drifted so far away?


    The effort of earlier swimming was redoubled, and then set about with as great a vigor as EJ could dare muster. It was hard, there could be no doubt. Her body strained against her as she forced it into motion, each centimeter of struggle feeling like a foot of stress; she couldn''t stop, wouldn''t stop, but progress slowed as she came close to the bottom once again.


    Finally, she was right there. Right where she had been moments ago, right in that blessed egress between the cold winds of failure and the warm dream of success. Her whole body, now, screamed at her to surface and release her long-stored breath, to be freed of this dread torture. She would not acquiesce. Esthrielle was watching. Purity was watching. Lesser than those others, but still present, was Zofia. This was a chance for Esper James to finally prove, to herself and to everyone else, that she was strong.


    That there was will still burning within her cold and empty chest.


    Breath rushed from her. From behind glass, three pairs of watchful eyes bore witness to a scream which seemed anything but that of a meek, timid girl. A lamb which roared as a lion, forcing herself into action which was as spiteful as it was superior. The tender tips of fingers found grace in that moment, spurred by fury laced with self-loathing as headily as any spiked cocktail.


    Success, then. Success, succour... and a thankful respite from inadequacy. Esper James''s vision had begun to blur, and only now had she taken notice; that was hardly a problem, in the end. She had done it. She had done exactly what she had intended to - for once, for fucking once, it had been there for her to claim. She had claimed it. Triumph undeniable, though mundane and meaningless, was triumph still. As flesh touched resin, her muscles each released in a single, all-consuming surge.


    She went with a whisper, not a bang.


    -


    When she awoke, she was laid atop cold steel and staring at a dismal ceiling. Cream coloured tiles stared back at her, cold and emotionless, the black grout in their intersection evoking the web of a horrid predator. In the distance, too distant to be deciphered, she could hear speaking. Female voices intermingled: one sounded more nasal and brusque, and furious; another was a touch husky, breathy as if trained, and full-bodied. The next was apologetic and frantic, a melodic quality hung with care upon this voice''s mantle, though it was hardly given chance to shine. The final voice was stern and direct, with a marked note of maturity which set it apart from the rest.


    Esper James tuned them out. Instead, she looked down at herself, body chill and damp yet warm and dry in the same breath. Her nudity shocked her, but its impact was denied through repetition - it was hardly the first time she had awoken to find herself stripped, and as per the previous occasions, she had been left unmolested.


    Or so it had seemed initially. Upon further review, fact-checkers would consider this to be untrue. A needle was slid beneath either forearm''s flesh, steel making sweet love to virgin veins, an unknown cocktail of fluid coaxed to carouse with her ink-like ichor. It left a subtle warmth at point of entry, and made her feel comfortable, calm, and quite cozy. Opiates, then, she figured. Why would they be giving her painkillers? The question was moot; the likely answer was the Waywards'' lack of true knowledge about the second-living.


    If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    The turning of her head did feel strange, however. Perhaps they were right, and she was in pain, but anything close to pain she may have felt had long since subsided beneath warm blankets of opiate ecstasy. There was, at least, a linen draped over her - felt appropriate for a dead woman to be dressed as a corpse on an exam table. EJ grinned at the thought, even broaching a pitter-patter giggle. It was like she was in a cop show... she could see it now, her name in the credits. ''CORPSE OF WOMAN DROWNED: ESPER JAMES PRICE-WYNNFIELD''.


    She could finally tell her parents about her big break, hahaha. That would be nice. Her name up in lights, Hollywood''s newest starlet, the dead girl who played dead girls. She''d be perfect. She was already so very used to just lying there and taking it, whatever abuse someone wanted to hurl her way, that being a dead body wasn''t too far from life itself. Maybe she''d be able to get Purity or Est a job on the big screen, too - Purity had the looks, Est had the energy. They''d both be so much more alive there than with her.


    Her doped delight chilled to cold creme brulee. It was true, she thought - they would be better off without her. Est would still be in good with the Knights, without any of this bullshit EJ had dragged her into... Purity would have found a better way to free herself. She had spoken of it, of having a plan - Esper James was sure of it. Purity was a smart girl, Est was strong and determined. EJ, though, was... What? Ripe to be victimized? Docile? Deferential?


    She frowned at first. The frown became a sneer, and then a frown again, and then a grimace. Finally, the roulette''s wheel settled its spin, the ball landing upon grief. Grief, and self-hatred. It was a concoction as sweet and chemical as gasoline, a sickly taste that smelled of gas stations in the dark. She had no tears to shed, as her body had yet to fully follow-through with her own emotional disarray, but she certainly looked every bit the little distraught waif she felt herself to be.


    The first sobs began to punch through the paper wall of her self-control as four bodies drifted into the practical observation room. That was what Zofi had called it, at least. One of the bodies rushed into motion - almond skin, red eyes, white hair. A familiar face was placed in an instant into the crook of EJ''s neck, synthetic arms wrapping her up in the biggest hug the provider could deliver. A second form, this one draped in pink and black with fair tones to soft flesh, went to follow. The first body was joined by the second at its side, joining the hug wordlessly, tensing every time EJ sobbed.


    The third body went round the side to EJ''s other flank, looking down at her with anguished orbs of milk chocolate brown. Steel fangs in grim imitation of Esper James''s own razors were presented, then, in a smile one could only describe as sad and sorry. The final figure, taller than all but the pink one, found itself slowly joining the third. It was stern, and with a light solar tint to otherwise sunless skin, curtained in twin shades of black from robes and hair.


    Zofia spoke first. "EJ, hey-y-y... You''re okay, right? You, uh... You held your breath so long you passed out. Sucked in water on your way back up from the bottom of the pool, ha ha-a-a... We drained the room ASAP. Got you out, got you here, pumped the water out of your lungs... How''re you feeling?" That remorseful baring of her teeth was anything but the normal excited expression this convent''s field research head normally bore. She looked like she wanted to join the hug, but... Well, it would be hard to do with only one arm remaining. Wouldn''t want to lose the second one.


    Silence, a glass pane only interrupted by the bullet holes of Esper James''s dry sobs. That sheet dragged on long enough to encase all of Tsang HQ by time someone felt fit to interject. "EJ... Sweetheart, holy fuck, we''re so glad you''re okay... Seeing you go l-limp like that... It was a lot. A lot a lot. Please, sweetheart, we''re r-right here... Anything you need, let us know..." Est, too, was unable to dredge any tears from their synthetic gutters. However, there was a new band-aid on her face, and the fingers of her left hand felt jerky and un-coordinated as they gave EJ a squeeze.


    Purity couldn''t speak, or sob, or do much of anything. She was trapped under ice, moving still yet denied life''s essential functions; a terrible fugue had ensorcelled her into inaction, save to bury her face beside Est''s and cling to EJ with everything she had. The absence was worse than anything, EJ felt - if Purity had cried, at least she would have felt good enough to cry. Seeing her like this was horrible; worse than any sort of sorrow, it was a complete destruction of the self that EJ had become so accustomed to.


    Finally, the fourth figure spoke up. "Sister Esper James," the mother abbess began, "you have completed today''s testing. We had more things planned, but... Seeing as this test allowed us to gather far more information than initially expected, and as it had some... intense repercussions, we will call it here for now. The rest of your day is yours. Tomorrow, our planned schedule is... lighter, we will say. Less demanding." Her face remained every bit as stern and implacable as ever, but there was a slight sense of reluctance in her expression. Esper James would have liked to believe it was reluctance, at least.


    The mother abbess was the first to depart, and she made her escape with the grace of a dancer; barely a sound came from her footsteps, and in an instant, she was done. Now was when Zofi''s smile finally broke into an aggrieved downturn of the lips, her brows descending to add credibility to her dismay. "Yeesh, EJ, I''m... I''m fucking sorry. I feel like it was my fault somehow, you know? I should''ve drained the water sooner, once it looked like you were struggling... or been more clear, you, uh, you didn''t need to reach the bottom... But..."


    The smile was re-formed as rapidly as its exit had been made, though now that formless grief was just as present as it had been on her frown. "It was c-cool that you, uh, you got that far down. Impressive. You lasted for twenty minutes. That''s... pre-" The rest of that thought was sliced free like a gangrenous limb by a single glance from Est. Zofi shut the fuck up instantly, mouth going mum and lips drawn tight; she adjusted her stance, so her right arm (the only one remaining) was out of the other woman''s reach.


    Purity was as wordless as ever, though she did find the strength to lean up and offer a single, trembling kiss to EJ''s forehead. It wasn''t much, anyone could admit, but it was also far more than was asked of her. The smallest gestures can feel like the largest. Tears trickled now freely from her eyes, without accompanying sobs or sounds - just a display of sorrow too deep for any sort of vocalization.


    Zofia made her leave in short order, pulling the twinned IV drips out of EJ''s forearms and doing away with them. The remaining trio of ladies were left to their own devices once again... allowed to console one another as openly or discreetly as each woman wished. That meant, of course, that they were going back to their room. Est scooped Esper James up in her mechanized embrace, strong as an ox and twice as gentle. Purity followed along, head down, eyes on the floor; her hands remained clasped over her lap.


    The nuns who had been in the halls earlier had dispersed since, or so it seemed. What few nuns remained looked away from the procession of three as they made their way back to the dorm, a stark dichotomy against their hungry eyes from the early evening. One girl did look towards Esper James, a millisecond of movement from her dominant hand being displayed - but whatever the intent had been, whatever embryo had gestated in her mind, had never reached fruition. A flash of Est''s ocular LEDs was all it took to abort the stranger''s idea.


    EJ sobbed the whole time they walked. She didn''t care who saw. She didn''t care what the nuns thought of her, anyways - she was her own woman, and an adult, so if the nuns didn''t like it then it wasn''t her problem. When her eyes were open, and she found enough focus to see anything approximating detail, she kept her gaze upon Est and Purity.


    Eventually they pushed through the door to their dorm room. Straight to the bed, first and foremost; no dreams of getting EJ dressed, or sitting down for tea, or anything of the sort. EJ was laid down upon silken sheets, and joined in due time by both of her lovers. It was hardly time for sleep, they''d only been awake for a few hours, but it was time for a snuggle. That would be just as good, if not better - actively getting to revel in the flesh of another, held tight-yet-gentle in their embraces.


    "Luca says breakfast will be delivered to our room. Let''s just... Stay here a while."

 \\ Act Four Begin \\ (Ch. 65) - Blood Bathory; or, Sex with a Gun

    Fuckers.


    All of them, really. Each and every sniveling one of them. Disgusting little... vermin, and that was putting it so lightly as to be a compliment.


    Judas sneered as her trigger finger felt the mag release button, cool steel dropping to the floor and clattering away from her. Half of her wanted to kill them all - the most horrible sort of death, one that was dragged out for months, if not years. It was all they deserved. These... destroyers, these usurpers, these common thugs. Ew. She was sounding like a children''s cartoon villain again...


    She hated that. If she was a villain, she was anything but cartoonish.


    The other half of her, the half that didn''t want to see these fucking reprobates strung up by silvered wire, left to bleed and choke and burn for days on end, wanted to argue. She wanted to yell. She wanted to fucking scream. She wished she could pop her head out from around the corner she was tucked behind, stare their ringleader in the eye, and howl at them about how impossibly stupid they were being. Didn''t they realize that everything Tsang was doing was for the good of the UNAC? The good of the human race? Didn''t they see that immortality was no longer a pipe dream - it was an achievable reality, something everyone could have, regardless of background?


    For hundreds, no, thousands of years, endless millennia since the first proto-human had stumbled onto speech, homo erectus had sought immortality. Gilgamesh had pursued an herb of immortality to live forever. Qin Shi Huang had poisoned himself with mercury just to gamble at a forever-life. Elizabeth Bathory had tortured and exsanguinated virgin women, bathing in their blood and swallowing it down. Countless more in myth and legend, and in undisputable history, had made the attempt. It was an intrinsic flaw of the human condition, to die.


    So what was the issue? Why did they all hate it so much? Sure, some people didn''t like the carnivorous lifestyle, but that wasn''t worthy of this bullshit. Some people didn''t want to take their pills - that was more excusable, those things were practically poison made to sedate, but still! They lived in a world where a person could, and would, live forever through the sheer charity of their betters!


    No more death. No more pain. No more loss. An eternity in the beauteous, advanced world that they had created, every single one of them. There would always be the underclass, there would always be serfs, but such was the way of a hierarchy. And yet, these worthless smears couldn''t even see the truth right in front of their fucking faces. Tsang Solutions were helping people. They were keeping the UNAC alive, bringing them a sort of perfection that those in the North, East, and South could never hope to achieve.


    It made her black blood boil. It sparked the kindling in her half-dead heart into a raging pyre - one that Judas would be quick to throw these dissenters onto, if she had her way. She''d pour molten silver down their throats before even considering a pardon - frankly, she had oft considered making the executive decision of reintroducing public executions. That would keep the underclasses in line, right? A public livestream red-room, broadcast by Tsang themselves.


    Captured dissenters suffering and dying left right and center, being allowed to put themselves back together, then back at it for another round of pain. That would keep people in line. It would keep them from doing this sort of fucking idiocy, keep them from getting in her way.


    The popcorn of gunfire from down the hall, whizzing past her hidden visage, was enough to draw her from her monologue. It was more than plenty to get her to re-focus on the task at hand: killing these useless blights on her perfect, second-living utopia. She snapped from her furious haze as if smelling salts had been given, though the only scents in the air were gunpowder, burnt flesh, and blood. Frankly she loved the aroma - she had always had a thing for blood, even before the procedure. Even before she had earned her fangs.


    A nod to her second-in-command was all it took to set the black clad enforcers to their work. She had eight men in here with her, following her lead, taking her commands. She was anything but a military commandant, of course, but these loyal thugs got hazard pay for doing whatever she said. Beatings, maiming, killings, harassment, apprehension... Whatever she wanted, they''d do. Even after the thing with Alex just the other day, she''d had plenty of volunteers to die for her amusement.


    Heavy boots rustled to life, two men rushing to take point. Almost immediately, one was given the punch card treatment straight through the sternum, and then as he fell, the head. Probably not properly lethal, Judas thought, but she''d make sure someone finished him off... she was not paying him his KIA bonus.


    The blaze of small arms filled the hall with sound as more of her goon squad took their chance, returning fire as aggressively and emphatically as any private death squad would aspire to be. One of them had brought a proper machine gun, the sort of automatic that used to get mounted on vehicles or emplacements - nowadays, a second-living could hold and fire that sort of thing without issue, provided they were a more physically-inclined strain of their respective typing. Judas couldn''t remember what this guy was, but from the way his bulk barely shook while the weapon''s barrel began to glow red-hot, she made a mental note to hire more of those in the future.


    Screams rang out from down the hallway, from the opposition''s bulkhead; they were being turned into the world''s most foul serving of swiss cheese, and blackened blood made the hallway evoke an inkwell that had exploded. Once the big fucker with the heavy weaponry had emptied enough silver to make a jeweler blush, a silence hung in the air - silent except for the dripping of blood and sobs of the wounded, but to Judas, that was more akin to music than malaise.


    "All clear, boss. Just some stragglers. Should we-" A different lump of hired muscle, one with a heart filled with bullet holes painted on his armor''s left breast, began to speak. Judas was quick to shut him up. "Oh, you want to give the orders here, hm? Do you get paid to make suggestions? Or do you get paid to hurt people, Blackjack?" Judas turned her gaze to the enforcer''s helmet, approximating where his eyes were most likely to be. He remained silent.


    "Come on then. Answer me. I know you can talk, you were just doing it - what do I pay you to do?" The smile she proffered was a sugared cocktail of blood and booze, saccharine poison which both emboldened and unhinged. One would never taste the silver powder in its mix until it hit their gut, though it would burn a bit more than most booze as it drained down, leaving microscars on everything it touched.


    The officer had become sheepish in seconds flat, letting his own gaze drop so that it didn''t need to meet hers. "Hurt people, miss. You pay us to hurt people. I''m... I''m sorry for speaking out of turn. Thank you for bringing me on this mission. I''ll... I''ll clear the next room. Thank you." His words tumbled out like a child that had tripped running down a hill, rolling over his tongue until every syllable felt just as shamed as his burning skin did. Judas gave him a wink.


    "Good boy, Blackjack. You''re very welcome for this opportunity. Prove your loyalty, hm? Kill... what the fuck was his callsign again? Warpaint? Fucking shitty callsign. Get him out of my sight, and then I won''t even make you clear the next room, hm? Prove yourself to me. Let me see how dedicated you are." It took herculean amounts of restraint to not lick her lips as she finished the proposition.


    The seven remaining goons all looked to their downed comrade, who sat catatonic and fitful upon the floor. Like a bad dream adventure, his body tossed and turned as neurons fired, hit the cauterized hunk of blackened flesh in his brain, and muscle impulses were distributed randomly. It was very reminiscent of a seizure, Judas thought - fuck, it had been a long time since she''d induced a seizure in someone. Maybe that was what she''d do to the ringleader of this little sham of a resistance corps?


    Some of her squadron looked away as Blackjack raised his gun, a semi-automatic rifle loaded with armor-piercing rounds. He didn''t have the guts to take his comrade''s helmet off before he pulled the trigger. The sound of the dying man''s thick synthetic visor cracking as another hole was punched into it mingled well with the splurch of his brain being pulped and the crank-ch of his skull being reduced to shrapnel. Blackened blood sprayed in a single gout, barely hitting anything from the sharp angle of its egress, but it got on Blackjack''s armor. Fitting.


    "Oooh, good boy, sweetheart~! You''re such a good boy for mommy... Here. Take the dead cunt''s grenades, and his TSID tag. You''re promoted. Keep doing exactly what mommy says, and there''s more in store for you...~" She licked her teeth now, not her lips, mouth curled into the grin of a predator before prey. The loyal servant received a wink for his efforts, and Judas decided to lay it on that much thicker: cocking her hips to gently bump against Blackjack''s loins, pressing against his codpiece just enough to draw stimulation.


    He said nothing, though from the aborted vocalizations he stammered from beneath his helmet, he sure tried to. That only emboldened Judas, but right now wasn''t the right time to press her new pet. They had shit to do... but seeing him fold like that? Seeing him do exactly what she wanted, when she wanted it, without question? Thank her for the privilege of working with her? Thank her for the abuse?


    It revved an engine that had lain cold and dormant since this whole shitstorm happened. She missed her little bitch.


    The vampiress had decided to just accept that missing EJ was the correct way to consider how she felt. They had been together for thirty plus years... And now, suddenly, she was just supposed to deal with all the constant strain and hassle of corporate life without her whipping girl? She was meant to exist without a sacrificial lamb to kneel down obediently and take whatever she was given? Judas Alighieri wasn''t a religious woman, but she imagined a life without her toys was akin to Hell.


    "Okay, sweethearts... My lovely little butchers... let''s head forward. Move up." Her entourage did as they were told, Blackjack remaining close to Judas as they did - he had been promoted, it was his right to stick nearest to his boss and personally keep her safe. As they reached the ruined beachhead, stragglers were collected in a pile of the wounded and dying. Only three still clung yet to life, despite it all: a pale man with slicked-back black hair and piercings, one ashen-skinned male of a pair of twins, and a girl with long, green-dyed hair.


    The first of the trio was struggling to breathe, having been pierced through one now-collapsed lung, the voice box, and the stomach. The ashen-skinned man had taken the brunt of it: one shoulder rent asunder, three scattered holes in his torso (one of them inches from his heart- unlucky that he hadn''t died, for him at least), an ear torn clean off, and his left kneecap shattered to calcium confetti. The last of the three, the woman with the green hair down to the bottom of her ass, had taken minimal damage - only the left side of her hip, and her right bicep, had been ruined. Judas smiled as she saw her.


    "Oooh... Survivors. Good. I''ve got some... emotions I need to work through. Here, prop the two guys up, would you? They need to see what happens next." Her sycophant slaves did as they were told, practically throwing the wounded men against the nearest wall so that they could observe whatever atrocity Judas had in mind.


    Jude took a fistful of the woman''s emerald locks, dragging her a bit closer to the maimed males, but ever so out of their reach even if they leaned forwards. Then, the Tsang executive lowered herself, straddling the woman right over her injured hip. This drew, as it was expected to, a pained whimper and cry from the sadist''s new plaything. Judas let go of the girl''s hair and instead caressed her cheek, lowering - but not holstering - the pistol in her other hand.


    "Oh my, aren''t you cute... I love your eyeliner, so dark, so thick... I bet it''d look great running down your face while you gag, wouldn''t it? Hmm-mm-mm~? Gawk gawk gawk gawk..." She thrust a bit with her hips at every sound effect, ensuring that the intended image was flawlessly evoked. The other woman began to cry - no longer just from the pain. Judas took her free hand and placed a finger below the crying woman''s eye, dabbing her fingertip with damp and tracing a single, black-stained line down her face to mimic a natural tearflow.


    "Mmmnh, fuck, that''s right... Cry for me, girlie... All the best little bitches cry for their owners, didn''t you know? I love a slut that''s pre-trained..." Judas raises her pelvis from its seat, adjusting herself so she''s now laid chest-to-chest with the green haired girl. The sobs only came louder now, all the more delectable. Every whimper and cry made her chest shift, which in turn brought friction to Judas''s own. It was hardly something Judas hated.


    The sanguine sadist used her right leg to push between the wounded woman''s own pair, thigh pushed to the insurgent''s lap. A little bit of motion was all it took for Judas to begin a paired grinding, looking her quarry straight in the eyes as she began. To her side, all too close and yet so very far, the black-haired man fought with his own body to try and say something. Anything, really - any sort of protest, anything even approximating a shout of condemnation or hatred. All that came was garbled, ravaged wheezing and strain.


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    The enforcers all seemed uncomfortable, but some of them looked on, watching with steeled hearts and dead emotions. This was far from what they had signed up for, of course... Being Judas''s hired muscle was one thing, but this? It was a bit much, to put it with shocking lightness. Those who hadn''t taken it upon themselves to watch started to occupy themselves however they could: checking their weapons, peeking into nearby rooms, looking out the windows... One bastard had even pulled out his smartphone. Anything to distract themselves.


    Judas growled, low and husky, full of breath and lust; she leaned in to nuzzle the other woman''s bared neck, eyes half-lidded and dreamy. This was the final straw for the object of her aggression, who began to struggle - with great futility - against her oppressor. Weak hands went to Judas''s torso, just above her hips, trying as best she could to push the other woman off. Judas, in response, pulled away from her plaything''s neck just enough to bark an order.


    "Blackjack. Take her wrists, hold them above her head. Now."


    Her order was followed with reluctance, sure, but expedience more so. The girl''s arms were restrained; a different thug, in an effort to garner some clout, grabbed her ankles to keep her from kicking. Tears came faster and faster now, the consignment to inaction more than enough to really hammer in the stake of what was coming.


    Judas''s face returned to its home in the crook of the woman''s neck, nuzzling in, growling, kissing... Kissing became licking, which prompted her toy to howl in fear and sorrow without end. Licking was exchanged for nibbling, now, the grinding becoming more and more intense in turn; forced stimulation for both parties, even as the captive woman''s comrade began to fight himself with every ounce of strength he could still well up in his core. The wheezes and garbled, ragged exclamations came louder now, more rapidly, and he nearly managed to lean forward close enough to take hold of Judas''s arm.


    A kick from one of the observant enforcers ensured he leaned the fuck back against the wall, held there by a thick boot. Judas held back a horrid cackle, not seeing the proceedings but certainly hearing them. It was everything she wanted - everything she needed. She needed this, this ecstasy, this agony... The rising heat between her legs... The building tightness and pounding in her chest, just behind her sternum, like a taut drum slammed for a war march. The tears running down the other woman''s face.


    "Take a deep breath, sweetheart. You''ll need it to scream." The other girl was given just a moment to process what Judas had said, and tried to draw in a gasp and hold it in - before having it forced from her in a screech of agony as gold-plated fangs buried themselves into her neck. Judas buried them deep, as deeply as they would go without outright taking a chunk out of the girl''s neck, letting the other woman''s blood pool in her mouth for a second before taking the first gulp.


    Oh-h-h, yes. That was it. The adrenaline in the blood was euphoric in its own right - the torture, the pain, the grief, all of it mingled with more depth than the notes of the finest wine. Judas felt every inch of her skin come alight with electricity, sensitivity amplified a million-million times, making everything from the soft lining of her suit to the softer flesh in her mouth feel divine. If there was a Heaven, this was it. This moment was Heaven, without any question... without any doubt. Nothing could ever come close.


    She was surprised, somewhere subconscious within her, that the girl between her thighs was still first-living. That was good, honestly - it made her blood that much more palatable, and amplified her warmth once the draught of blood was drained. Another mouthful of blood was drawn in, and Judas''s head pulled away - positioning itself just above the other woman''s, six inches away.


    She used her free hand to grab her prey by the lower jaw, holding her mouth open with thumb and forefinger pressed to either cheek. There was no time for the woman to wonder what was going to happen next - Judas had already trailed her tongue from her own mouth to make an inverse spire over her toy''s own open orifice, letting fresh blood slowly pour on down. There was an attempt to turn her head, trying not to be spitballed her own fucking blood, but there was no escaping Judas''s iron grip.


    The vampire''s motions became more insistent now. She had climbed this mountain before, so many times before - and she knew she had nearly reached the peak, where her flag was still stuck. As the last drop of blood drained from her tongue into the girl''s mouth, Judas smiled - eyes still dreamy, face painted with pleasure and superiority, the mask of a dictator who knew her subjects were held in sway to her every whim and desire.


    "Good girl. You did what I told you - I like obedience. Ah, but perhaps this has gone too long... You''re fun, baby girl, but it looks like your... What is he? Your brother? Your boyfriend? Ooh, I hope boyfriend... Probably the last chance for his little dick to get up, hmm~? But, forget about him. I own you now. We''ve gotta cut this short, so... Open your mouth, slut. Let me see how your tongue tastes, and I promise I''ll kill you quick." She winked, licking a bit of stray blood from her own lips - and then a bit more from the other girl''s chin, where it had spilled.


    Her abuse doll was quick to swallow the mouthful of her own blood, then opened her mouth just wide enough for a kiss - the crying had yet to stop, of course, but an offer of a quick death was superior by far to whatever this was. Judas felt the swell between her thighs as the girl did what she could to try and earn some clout of her own, raising her leg ever so slightly to press ever more insistently against Judas. Good girl.


    Judas leaned down, then, every bit the classic vampire pouncing upon her prey. Lip met lip, tongue met tongue, a bit of wrestling ensued - both orally and bodily, Judas doing everything she could to finish things up in a timely manner. The kiss sealed the deal, as it always did, but there was no rule saying she couldn''t amplify her own experience that much more, was there? She had climbed the highest mountain in human history, and yet the one oft most-traveled; it made her tremble ever so slightly as she planted her flag, the descent slow and relaxed.


    The black-haired man practically screamed in outrage at this, beginning to cry himself; his companion, who had been silent and stoic up until now, wept silently. That was the cherry on top for Judas, of course - it was exactly what she had wanted, what she had expected - nay, demanded of her subjects. The gun in Judas''s off hand came up quickly, pressing itself beneath her prey''s jaw even as they kissed, even as Judas started to calm and ride out her blood-fueled afterglow.


    A pair of trigger pulls, and a promise given became a promise kept. Judas lingered there for a few moments, resting on the dead girl''s corpse like a particularly squishy body pillow, staring into those dead eyes with a sick sense of adoration which bordered on love. They always came around in the end, you know? They always realized Judas knew what was best for them. Always.


    With a deep, contented sigh, Judas pushed herself to a stand. The fresh blood in her veins still thrummed with sanguine power, giving life to a body so long half-dead; it was just as lasting a kiss as the one she had just had. Her only regret? She had accidentally nicked her tongue with the first bullet, and now it stung like a bitch. Easy fix, though - she''d just bite the tip off later, and she''d get a new one that wasn''t so burnt.


    The thugs let go of the corpse''s arms and legs, rushing to stand and brush themselves off. Silently, all in attendance were glad it was over and done - for different reasons, sure, but they could all agree it was better to have ended than continued. Judas turned to the two men leaned against the wall, one who had degenerated into ragged howls and sobs like wind through a torn billows, the other with his eyes shut as tightly as he could muster to try and stop the tears.


    "Blackjack? Kill the quiet one. The boyfriend? Sawbones, take his arms. They''ll grow back. We''ve got everything we need here. Resistance and spirits: crushed. Mission accomplished. Expect a bonus in your weekly paychecks, as per the usual. Bloodshot? The dead girl, grab her corpse and as much brain as you can fit into an extraction cap-" Judas''s words were cut off by the sound of new, fresh gunfire from outside. She had ordered a perimeter established, but they were just grunts... no real armor, just officers in their normal uniforms. They were sitting ducks for any third-party aggressor.


    Fuck. That was annoying. She had just done all this fucking work, just killed... Ten, maybe? Fifteen? Whatever, she''d put twenty on her report. She''d just killed twenty dissidents, cleared out the entirety of Kehler Complex, captured two excellent would-be hostages and/or informants... and now there was new bullshit to deal with? Seriously? That was a fucking bitch of a complication.


    Whatever it was, it sounded automatic - and meaty. It was loud, and this time, it was Judas''s own side that was doing the screaming, not the little wretches she had taken it upon herself to uproot. Scores of normal corporate security officers, taken down in swathes... she didn''t need to see it to know it was a massacre. She could hear it, the blood in her system heightening her already otherworldly senses to the point they could outdo the most sophisticated microphone on the market. She could hear every splatter of blood, every ching ching chingle ching of emptied casings as they hit the ground, every rip and tear of flesh and bone and hair and fabric.


    It would have been glorious, if she didn''t need to authorize the checks to their families for being KIA.


    "God damnit! Okay, new plan! Leave the boyfriend, he can suffer, just... Stab him a few times, yeah? Non-lethal, just get his arms and stomach and legs and shit. Blackjack! With me. Grab the girl, scoop as much of her brain as you can, and let''s leave. The rest of you? Join the guys outside, or if you can''t get out of here? Burn the place to ash. Get out however you can once you start the fire. Intel says there''s a big stash of propane in the basement, for heating purposes... Old fucking buildings still using propane heaters, ick, I know, but still."


    She scrunched her brow and slammed her eyes tight, pinching the bridge of her nose. Just fucking wonderful. She''d been having such a good day, too... Managed to get her libido back up after going a while without, led a successful raid... Hell, she''d even had a particularly good cut of meat for breakfast this morning. Kobe beef, marinated to her personal tastes, raw and bloody just how she liked.


    Here, she had thought it''d be an easy day of work. Guess not.


    The goon squad did as she directed without hesitation, each of them wordlessly glad that they were back to doing what they had been paid to do: hurt people. One man knelt down and began to viciously stab the black-haired man everywhere he could, ensuring that none of it was lethal but all of it would hurt like a bitch; the other troopers made sure their guns were loaded and then began to march, peering out the windows to grab a glimpse of the scene. It was not good; Judas could hear the fear in her officers'' voices outside as they tried desperately to hail her.


    Lucky for her, though, her comms were off. She had turned them off ever since she had breached the Complex proper, and right now? She had zero intention of turning them back on. Once Blackjack had slung the dead girl''s body over one shoulder and scooped as much brain matter as he reasonably could into a hip-strapped titanium cylinder, he nodded to his boss that he was ready to go. That was all it took - that was all that was needed, all that was necessary to set things back into motion once again.


    Judas hustled straight down a different hallway, not even stopping to check for more opposition; if they ran into anyone, she''d show Blackjack the little trick she had last used against that fucking Wayward in her manse. She knew that almost no one in Vitus knew they could even do that, much less how, and the shock factor had provided plenty of breathing room time and time again. It was the exec''s secret weapon, in a lot of ways.


    A secret weapon she never hoped to use, but one she certainly didn''t hate employing. She just hoped the next time she put it to use, she''d be doing it to get her little ghoulette back.


    -


    Outside the Complex, Kell was every bit the embodiment of an avenging angel. Eddy''s comms were dead - now, at least. He had been shot in the middle of talking to her and updating her on the situation; when he fell, his phone (still on speaker) had fallen down to the floor near wherever he had slumped. Kell had said nothing, not wanting to give herself away... but she had certainly listened. She had listened to all of it, every little thing, every last word. She had told herself it was to remember her comrades as best she could - to honor them in their final moments, by being with them in spirit, if not in body.


    That wasn''t true.


    In truth it was out of a morbid, disgusting sort of curiosity. She had needed it, just like Judas had needed it - needed the atrocity, the horror, the torture, the abuse. She had needed a reason to get angry, a reason to join the fight and try and avenge her one-time friends. They had been caught by Tsang - they were as good as dead. She''d never see them again. They''d never continue their Wayfarer game.


    No more pizza and movies, no more game night, no more hitting the bars and club together. No more working on her bike with Franklin; no more anchovy pizza with Damien; no more doing acid with Vivica, hoping upon all hopes she''d finally leave Eddy''s deadbeat ass. This cluster of Revenants were no more - and sure, there would be other cells. She''d done this whole song and dance more times than she could count, gaining clout, gathering friends and co-conspirators, accruing arms and armor and safe houses. She was pretty good at it at this point.


    And so, hearing them all die had been numb. She had been emotionally distant, her feelings all too dead to really register any of it as anything more than just another loss in this great game she and Tsang played. In chess, losing a single pawn was an acceptable sacrifice in the greater scheme of things. But... She had liked these ones. They had been fun; they had been nice. Mostly, anyways.


    And so, she needed the rage.


    She had listened intently, as intently as she could, to the proceedings. It had turned her stomach; it had boiled her blood. It had dredged up every last little bit of fury that it had needed to, and now, she was fueled by her brothers-in-arms'' suffering as Judas had been. She would have hated the comparison, of course, but the truth was that she couldn''t deny that Judas was a skilled opponent in her own regard. They both used people for their own means; they both saw their own world view as ''right''.


    As Kell pulled the trigger once again, spraying full metal jackets through the too-thin walls of cars and vans, she only hoped Judas was still around in the Complex. She was itching for a chance to prove which of them was ''right'' after all.

 Act Four (Ch. 66) - Pet The Kitty; or, Stigmatic Procession

    Snuggling was soft, as it often - if not always - was.


    Bodies entangled, breathing set in rhythm, hearts beating all at once... there was divinity in stillness, a deific touch in this house of God, and it was all manifest within the shared closeness of the three. Purity''s face against Est''s neck... Est''s hands on EJ''s hips... EJ''s legs wrapped lazily around Purity''s thigh... None moved yet their chests, rising and falling in gentle tempo, a temple of their own love now brought together to worship. Seemed fitting, in this house of God, that God may be found in one another''s presence.


    It was none such a restless yearning for tranquility as oft they shared; there was no unspoken need for sleep, no rush nor thrill of sexual incitement, no touch nor intent that rang in any sense but a deep hunger for silence and calm. Flesh pressed to flesh, soaked warmth that lingered more than skin deep in all of them. It was particularly cathartic to the ghoulette, of course... She who could still feel the warmth and wetness, even dried.


    Time dripped by, molasses spilled on the counter, spilling to the tile floor of Chronos''s kitchen. Every inhale seemed to drag on forever, though no additional effort was expended... Every blink stretched for aeons before the closing eyes beneath them, a moment drank and savored for each and every one.


    But just as there was joy in the still and slow, there was agony. The agony of knowing, of waiting, of anticipating... Testing still, testing further, testing until testing was all done. It was the price agreed - the devil''s pact for safety, to become the nunnery''s guinea pig to keep Esper James''s head and the heads of her lovers below the sightline of Vitus''s de-facto owners. A necessary evil, to undergo whatever the convent needed of the housed second-living. The more EJ considered it, the more she had already begun to think of it as captivity.


    Purity was notably still; she had been nearly motionless once they were all assembled in their mingled contact, their nest of bodies and breaths barely shifting at all in the first place. However, EJ thought, she was also being quiet... quieter than either of the others were. It wasn''t something in the air; it wasn''t something she had been slipped, at least EJ hoped not. In all honesty, she was still...


    "...Purity?" Esper James snapped the silence like a bundle of twigs struck over her knee, breaking the trio and their dorm out of that thankful freeze. Purity recoiled as if struck, her face taken from Est''s neck and directed towards her diminutive delight. When she answered, her words were sluggish as if passed through muck; her throat a mountain pass of broken glass, the words which passed through it sounding ragged and tired.


    "Huh? Yeah, EJ? What''s up...? Whad''d''you need? Are you feeling alr-" She was silenced by a single finger, one that pressed to both her lips with as much care as concern. EJ was looking up at her now; she rolled over, body now laid firmly across the two other women in their misshapen snuggle. "Hush, love. What do you need? Are you feeling alright? P-Please, you... I don''t like seeing you like this, whatever this is. What''s on your mind?"


    Purity''s eyes, having been drooped and weary, made themselves wide and awake, dreadfully aware. She first tried to smile, chuckling softly, playing it off as a silly question... Just a playful line of inquiry, of course, and one that was brought about without any reason. Her faked laughter fell as pitifully as broken glass from a smashed storefront, all flash, no feeling. Useless. Pointless.


    Esthrielle rolled over, too, shifting EJ so that the blonde was resting almost entirely on Purity. She looked now to Purity, echoing Esper James''s own inquisitorial gaze - free of malice, but drenched with concern. The inkwell of shared hearts had spilled, and the poem beneath had been marred by splotchy, wet discomfort and uncertainty. It was Purity''s turn to break just like that silence that had mired the room, her faux smile rent to shreds without so much as an apology for its destruction.


    She fell apart in an instant, beginning to outright bawl, gathering up the other two in her arms as powerfully as she could. A gentle snuggle became a desperate, needful press - flesh to flesh in Purity''s compactor, an unspoken necessity of more than just the idle contact of lazed languishing. She plead with all her heart, to any God that may still cast his gaze towards the earth, to be able to pull them close enough that they''d never be apart.


    It was shocking to EJ, to see Purity crumble like this. Purity had always been so strong... even back in Kehler Complex, when they had escaped with Kell, Purity was solid as a rock. She was undeniable, undefeatable; she was every bit the pillar of stone that EJ had needed, every time EJ had needed it in the last few weeks. She, and Est, had always seemed so powerful... And while EJ had seen Esthrielle at her most vulnerable, at her smallest and softest and weakest, she''d never really seen Purity be so defenseless.


    She''d seen her cry, of course. They''d all shed too many tears to count in recent days. This was different.


    Purity howled like a wounded beast, the bear trap of emotional bludgeoning having caught her heart in its sharp, cruel teeth. Esper James didn''t know what to say - didn''t know if there''s anything she could say, in all honesty, to try and dam the deluge. It made her tremble, to feel so helpless in the face of her lover''s grief... to see Purity shattered on the floor, no glue or epoxy in sight to put her back together. EJ settled for simply welcoming the crushing embrace, and returning it in kind, as best she could.


    Est, too, was speechless. From the wobble on her lower lip, though, and the shaky descent of her brows to try and form a small, sad smile, she was barely holding it together. She joined in on the three-way hug, the union of meat, machine, and mortality between them all that much sweeter for its sorrow.


    Purity was like a steaming kettle, whistling out shrill wails of absolute devastation and misery that would have made the marquis de Sade upset. Distraught was putting it lightly, and she didn''t seem to be working through it with anything approaching expedience. Esper James began to layer kisses upon whatever bare skin she could get at, not daring to interrupt Puri''s catharsis - if she was this beside herself, she needed to let it all go, not be cut off midway through. Bottling all this up would do no good.


    At one point, the door opened - just a crack, just enough for a nun with a neat white bob cut to peek her head in. Great blue eyes scanned the scene, expression an unusual display of emotion: her lips were curled back only slightly into an awkward grimace, gaze narrowed with concern. Once she saw that Purity wasn''t being accosted, and didn''t need direct help from any of the convent''s regulars, the nun was quick to vacate the scene.


    Dilemma wound its way down to dismay; the howling became a harsh, jagged sort of sob, which in turn became gentle weeping. Shedding emotion is like shedding skin: refreshing, cleansing, and exhausting. She yawned once, prolonged and only a few steps from further tearfall, but once it had been made she settled down into a soft whimper. The pink princess shimmied herself down within her bed, gathering up her girlfriends'' heads so they each were inches apart. She gave the both of them, one at a time, a quiver-lipped kiss.


    Esper James returned the locking of lips emphatically - not from lust, but from love. It was painful to see Purity in this state, and EJ wanted more than anything to be able to be there for her, to give her comfort and love, to do anything she could to steal the pain away. If only she had lips that could kiss Purity''s heart better... but she could still try her best with what she had.


    Purity sobbed a little into the kiss, squeezing EJ even tighter as they shared the moment; she hadn''t the mind nor the intent to make things anything but respectful and loving, and God, she had so much love to give it seemed to overflow from her now. Purity broke away from the ghoul''s lips only to turn then to the Wayward, dragging her into just as forceful a mingling - one that was, yet again, unresisted. Whereas Esper James had merely accepted in and offered herself willingly, Esthrielle was more than emphatic: she was demanding. She put physical effort to the same sort of desires Esper James held, drawing Purity in so powerfully that her chest squished against Est''s own torso.


    Est''s tenuous facade was replaced wholesale my a look of determination - the sort of look one takes on when they''re fighting for something, for a cause they believe in, or a love that is true. Purity was so fucked up that it wasn''t fair to her to need to do all the work, or so Est thought; instead, it was someone else''s turn to take some of the pressure off the pinkette''s shoulders. Est wanted to be the one to do just that.


    Whimpering softened further still, to a gentle sound here and there, on and off. EJ watched while the two other girls shared their kiss, caught between wishing she could contribute and drinking in the scene which lay before her. It was good that Purity was starting to calm down, she thought... She wished she could ask Puri why she was so broken up, though she also supposed she knew. Her leading theory was that it was aftershock from seeing EJ pass out and begin drowning in the pool - the first-living were sensitive to death, still, and the death of a lover?


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    Well, it was elementary, dear Watson. Just about anyone would be hurt by seeing that, seeing your beloved''s body struggle to live, fight to cling to what life remained within it even as it began to die... The girlish ghoul couldn''t even imagine. It hadn''t really hit her before - what she had put Est and Puri through, in her own bull-headed need to feel validated. It was cruel, wasn''t it? She sure felt like it had been a cruel thing to do, in retrospect. She had made them watch her nearly drown, just for her own benefit.


    Oh, god. She was just like Judas, wasn''t she?


    That made EJ''s stomach flop over on itself, a sad pancake sent end-over-end in a greasy discount diner skillet. Was this going to be the next few days, or weeks, or months for them? The loves of her unlife, the only loves she had ever truly known, being forced to watch her suffer and struggle just for her own sake? See her get broken down into an observable science, rendered like pig''s fat, turned into a palatable little potion that the Easterners could quaff at their leisure?


    No. No, no, no. Fuck that. That was worse than death, she quickly and decisively settled with herself. It was worse than being out there, on the streets, hiding from Tsang every waking breath of every single day. Safety was great... but if Judas caught her, then at least it would be over, so long as Judas only caught her. These thoughts began to form storm clouds in her mind, bolts of neural lightning sending energy arcing through her mental storm. A dark, indescribable emotion wrapped her heart like a funeral shroud.


    No. Not yet; not as anything but a last resort. But, there was something else she could do, if only to save her loves'' hearts from any further pain. Something that scared her... something that made her nervous; made her ill. But it was better than the alternative. Fucking anything was better than the alternative, of putting Purity and Est through this, day by fucking day...


    "Hey, sweethearts... I, ah... I gotta use the bathroom. I''ll be back... don''t worry about me. Please stay here... Please rest. Keep the bed warm for me, I remember where the bathroom is, hahaha..." And without even waiting for an answer, EJ slipped out of Purity''s vicelike grip and found her way from beneath the bedspread. Up onto her feet, then, still nude and still cold even with all the warmth she had just been receiving. She went to the closet straight away, throwing on the closest thing to fitting apparel she could find, and then spun to face the door.


    Deep breath, EJ. Deep, deep breath - not as deep as the one from the water test, of course, but she hoped she''d never need a breath that deep ever again. With a deep inhale, though purposefully softened so as not to alert her partners, she cracked the wooden door open and freed herself from their presence. Out into the hall... out into the unknown.


    She had been lying, of course. Lying about all of it: that she''d be right back, that she needed the bathroom, that she even knew where the bathroom was. The last time she had needed it, Est had needed to lead her there, and she barely even remembered the trip. No, she was headed anywhere but the bathroom. There was nothing out there for her... nothing in any of these rooms, down any of these hallways. Nothing she knew of, at least. Save for one thing, which she was pretty sure she could recall the location of.


    The convent''s hallways were mazelike and confounding, but she was diligent. Frankly, a part of her considered asking one of the scant few nuns in the halls to phone Luca for her, get him to pick her up and take her there. She thought better of the plan, however, once she considered it for longer than a single, pathetic second - Luca would almost certainly ask her why she wanted to go there, what her intentions were, and why she was alone. He''d tell Est. He''d snitch on her and ruin everything, and that wasn''t something Esper James could risk.


    So instead, she had to make the trip alone. It took nearly ten minutes of straight walking, though she had the benefit of minute wet spots that had been left on the rug, dropped off her hair not more than an hour or two ago. Ghoulish awareness came in again, so it seemed. A blessing for every curse, she thought, as she ran her pointed tongue along the inside of her fangs'' wall.


    Nuns saw her, of course, and some of them looked like they wanted to say something - but none of them dared speak, none of them dared broach the ghoulette in a manner either physical or verbal. Every time she met one, she was given a sad, wide-eyed look, but nothing more. It was like they were seeing the world''s most malformed little puppy, a tragedy unfolding before their very eyes even as they wished they could pick apart the deformities and right nature''s wrongs. EJ knew what that was like, in regards to herself - she had corrected plenty of nature''s wrongs in the past, before and after death alike.


    And right now? She was correcting something else - not a deformity of the body, but of the soul.


    Eventually she arrived. Steel doors sat twinned, looking exactly how they had when she had first seen them - including the fact that they were closed. The hand scanner certainly wouldn''t clear her for entry... And, looking around, there were no nuns in its immediate vicinity she could ask to help her in. Hell, maybe some nuns didn''t even have access in the first place; this was the first door with an honest to god lock on it she''d seen in the entire convent. Whatever normally went on here, there was a reason it was kept private.


    Well. Time for old faithful, the reliable classic. Thunk thonk thunk. EJ knocked, knuckles rapping at polished metal, the sound as hollow as it was solid. And then, she waited. Five seconds... ten... twenty... fourty... two minutes... Nothing. No sound at all - no nuns in the hallway to ask, just as before, nothing at all. The absence was just as daunting as it would''ve been if she had been surrounded by nuns in that moment; the empty hallways made her think of her dream, the one where she was in a vacant Tsang HQ.


    That dream still pissed her off that she had even had it. Of all the things she could''ve dreamt of, why weren''t they all like the very last one? Why weren''t they all sweet bliss, gentle love, sandwiches and cake in the sun? Why was there no romance in them? She''d been having such scary dreams recently... but that train of thought led her back to where she was presently, and why she was even there.


    To protect what she loved. To do something only she could do, and to do it for the benefit of those closest to her. To try and spare someone else some grief, for what felt like the first time in her life. She placated her stirring, frantic heart by telling herself it''d all be worth it; telling herself that, for once, she was in a position where her own choices seemed to matter. No one else telling her what to do, what to say, how to do or say it... No more getting bosse-


    Hiss-ss-ss. The doors opened with the undiluted sound of internalized hydraulics, the same machinery she had earlier heard being set into motion once again. Once the lock was fully disengaged, a brown-haired head poked itself from the thin sliver of void made by the opening of the portal. Zofi, of course - and she was red-eyed and pale, looking weary and haggard, though when she saw EJ she chanced a fang-toothed smile at the ghoul.


    "Heyyy, EJ...! Sister EJ, sorry. Gotta... Gotta start thinking of you as one of us, haha. Hey, what''s... what''s up? You here to take me to task? Tell me how dumb I was being about safety concerns with that test? Or-" It was EJ''s fucking turn to cut someone else off. She interjected with brusque force, halting the words in Zofia''s throat even as she struggled to push them up and out in the first place. "Sister Zofi. Let me in. I''m not here to yell at you; I''ve got something else I''d like to discuss. Let me in."


    No please; no request, no pleading, no chance for Zofia to tell her no. It was refreshing, EJ had to admit, to tell someone else what was going to happen and expect them to do it - even more so when Zofia nodded, opening the door a bit wider and beckoning for EJ to enter. God damn, was this what it was like? Power, control, influence? Was this what Judas went through every day?


    It felt good, she couldn''t lie, though she wished she could. Maybe... Maybe she''d try it more often, yeah? But not right now. Not quite yet. EJ stepped in, letting the door slip closed and lock once again after she had made her entrance. The lab was a mess, she saw immediately - things were in disarray, a console had been smashed by only God knew what, and the entire floor was still lightly damp. The observation window had had a hole unceremoniously punched through its expanse, it seemed.


    More than that, still, there was junk food littered around. Bags of chips and candy, a half-empty box of stale-looking donuts, a burger so cold that it had definitely just come out of some kind of fridge... it looked like a NEET''s disheveled nest, like some of the girls in EJ''s anime used to dwell within. She didn''t say that aloud, of course, but it certainly helped to paint Zofia in a different light.


    Speaking of Zofia, she looked like shit. Eyes were red and puffy, skin was even more pale than usual, nose was stuffy and runny... Her robes were in disarray, her hair was out of its usual pristine styling, and she had crumbs about her mouth. Also, still only one arm. EJ didn''t think it wise to ask about that, all things considered, but she certainly was curious; she was sure Zofia had had two arms back at dinner. Where''d the other one gone?


    It didn''t matter. Maybe she''d ask later, if she had the energy - or anything else - for it.


    "So-o-o, Sister EJ, what''s up? What did you need? Gah, it feels weird to use my voice, sorry if I sound... weird." Zofia blushed a little, the minor shame seeming major just from the printer paper tone of her skin. She winced and shrugged, the apologia of the flesh evident all about her posturing; EJ wasn''t mad at her, but she did appreciate that Zofia felt at least a little bad about everything that had happened.


    "Zofia - sorry, Sister Zofia. I need you to do something for me. I need you to keep it... quiet, from Sister Esthrielle and Sister Purity. Please. They... they can''t know." EJ put on a brave face, and nailed it to the wood of her heart with every bit of determination she had. Zofi''s smile faded almost immediately, realizing just how serious EJ was being about this. She nodded, looking around, and then leaning forward conspiratorially. "Uh, h-hey, I''m... Yes, Sister EJ, I can do that for you. Discretion is key. But, uh... what do you need?"


    That was the fucking question, wasn''t it, Zofi? That was the hardest part. Saying it. Committing to it. Manifesting her own intentions into reality, through word and action... The repercussions, both large and small, would be immense. Fear leapt and danced in Esper James''s heart, the flicker of a flame which burned cold and dreadful; the longer she thought on it, the longer she considered it, the more awful of an idea this seemed. But she had come this far. All she needed to do... All she needed to do was commit to it, right? Commit. That''s all she needed.


    "Zofi... I''m here to continue testing. Alone. Please."

 Act Four (Ch. 67) - In the Name of God; or, Start Your Engines

    Zofi''s jaw hit the floor, flesh-softened impact still thudding with the kiss of bone on tile. It was enough to make the field researcher''s head spin, a carousel spun way past OSHA standards. She stared down at Esper James for the speed of a breath, but the daze was pierced by one blonde brat bitching up at her. "Hey! Zofi! Earth to Zofi, it''s Esper James, come on! Say something!"


    Esper James scowled up at the other woman, frustration at being stone walled like this bolstering a wavering sense of confidence. She nearly reached up and slapped Zofia, just to snap her out of her hesitance, but that struck her as a bridge too far. It was too... too Judas. Judas would have slapped her; Judas would have struck just about anyone, frankly, if they didn''t give her prompt deference and attention. EJ shuddered to herself as she considered all the times she had been stricken by the blood drinker.


    Zofia shook her head fervently, that steely grin returning with every last drop of once-absent adoration. She inclined her torso to be able to gather EJ up into a great, emphatic embrace, one that Esper James was anything but eager to return. Her arms stayed by her side for the full duration, and if anything, her annoyance only grew - couldn''t this bizarre woman just go ahead and start with things already? They didn''t even know eachother - why was she hugging the ghoulish guinea pig?


    "Oh-h-h! Yes, yes, okay! We''ll start immediately! Would you mind if I notified the mother abbess? She told me she wanted to appear in an observational capacity, the next time we did testing... I doubt she expected it so quickly, hahaha, but I bet she''ll be excited! Oops, hmm... I''m not supposed to say ''I bet'' anymore. Betting isn''t, uh, it''s not Christlike. Or something like that. Can''t remember the..." EJ began to tune it out as Zofia started rambling, words pouring forth more for her own benefit than for EJ''s. That was fine. Zofi being excited would certainly make things go... quicker, if nothing else.


    Zofi finally pulled away, milk chocolate meeting envy''s emerald as she stared into EJ''s eyes, waiting for a response. Esper James cleared her throat and shook her head, as casually but firmly as she could manage - her frustration had become the board upon which her actions surfed, carving up the old familiar waves of apprehension in her heart''s ocean. "N-No, uh, I don''t mind. The mother abbess is the one hosting us here; frankly, I''d let her get away with a lot. Gotta repay her somehow."


    Zofia nodded, still smiling. "Yeah, of course! But, y''know, the Church''s good graces and the mercy of God and charity and all that; I doubt she''d be mad if you said no. But! I just messaged her. She''ll be right over; she''s very interested that you''re back again! Ghouls recuperate really fast, right?" There was the sense that the closing question was out of scientific inquiry as much as a fangirl''s sense of curiosity.


    EJ had been fetishized plenty of times in her life, but she doubted she''d ever get over the way Zofia did it. It felt... worse than the others; worse than any coffin jockey or chaser or anything else she''d been through. Still, she felt she had to choke it down; to grin and bear it, because if she didn''t work with Zofi, she wouldn''t be working with the convent at all. Obligation held her there, locked in and forced to interact with a girl who was a little too excited about the second-living.


    "Uh, yeah. All second-living are... we regenerate, I guess. Really robust physiques, you know? I mean, you guys know that, that''s why... Y''know. The fire bombings and stuff. All the silver. I mean, hell, you could fucking bisect me on a table saw and I''d be back to normal in a few hours. But, ah, ghouls... Ghouls are faster about it." All those pamphlets, all that studying, every article she''d ever read on the topic came streaming back like a mental .zip bomb.


    When EJ had first been dragged from the cold-wombs and sat in the morgue''s reconditioning room, to be monitored to make sure all the necessary adaptations fired, she had been given an absolute library of information to study. Everything she could possibly want to know about her new existence, with ads and reminders for FixAte peppered heavily throughout. A gentle reminder from Tsang Solutions to take your meds, because every alternative was damning. Every alternative, EJ now knew, other than restraint. But getting users hooked early on in second-life and then conditioning them to believe they needed it to live, to not murder indiscriminately?


    Well. Esper James couldn''t really talk on that front. She''d murdered at least two men in a way that could be considered, in a court of law, pretty ''indiscriminate''. She cleared her throat quickly before continuing, trying not to dwell on the memory of human flesh''s succulence for too long. "Ghouls are supposed to be the most physically aggressive and adept of the second-living. Cut me open and I''ll spill my guts on the floor, but give it thirty minutes and my skin''ll have stitched itself up like a stuffed animal."


    "Plus, we''re faster, and theoretically stronger. All the best physical aspects, other than things like increased durability and, ah... Looks, I guess..." She managed a wry smile at that one. Zombies, the unappreciated underclass of the second-living, were durable. Ghouls may have regenerated the fastest, yeah, but she had seen a zombie get hit by a car in the street and watched its frame wrap around the guy from the impact. He''d been thrown back, pierced in multiple spots by shrapnel and steel, but he got right back up and kept walking through the crosswalk.


    Zofia was listening intently, nodding like a child at their instructor, drinking up every drop of knowledge EJ saw fit to dispense. She gulped down the draught of wisdom as it poured from the blonde''s lips, eyes wide, smile now close-lipped but still rippling with eagerness. Her eyes flashed rapidly as she watched, brown irises lighting up and returning to dull tones frequently enough that even a first-living could have caught it.


    "Uh-huh, uh-huh. Tell me more while we wait for the mother abbess. I''ve heard that ghouls and vampires are almost the same; can you tell me about that?" Wide doeish eyes continued to ogle EJ''s face, waiting now with whispered desperation for satiation. EJ sighed deeply before offering a response.


    "Yes. Ghouls are... failed vampires. Something went wrong. I don''t know what. Originally, there were only vampires and zombies, but in the last fifty or so years? The ghoul strain was isolated, it was introduced, and it became more frequent. An official class was designated, because it seemed like... Like whatever had happened to the mainline vampiric implant, whatever updated version Tsang started pushing out, was now vulnerable to ghoulification." If EJ was back in college again, that would have been an A+ for her.


    Exactly as she had been told in every manual, every informational text, every last expose article; she''d repeated it nearly to the point of being verbatim. She''d read it enough times, and beaten herself up over it even more. Another layer of imperfection outside her own control that had been imposed; another flaw with herself that she couldn''t change.


    That being said, she was glad to be a ghoul, nowadays. She was learning, slowly but surely, to love it. Being a vampire would have been better, but... Well. Then she''d be more like Judas, too. She''d already thought to herself of the hatred that came with that concept. Deciding to focus on matters at hand, she re-examined Zofia, who was still waiting with childish delight for more information to be fed to her. Sadly for her, EJ didn''t really have more to give.


    "So...? Why aren''t you a vampire, sister Esper James? Not the right body? Not the right blood? Or just random-" Esper James was quick to cut Zofi off. "Random chance. Sometimes, yes, it''s based on body and DNA, whether you become a zombie or a vampire... but since ghoulishness is an off-shoot of vampirism, it''s usually just some kind of fuck-up in the process to become a vampire. No one gets to choose." She sighed again, closer to a huff than a sigh in all honesty. She found her annoyance with Zofia returning like a second wind.


    The door behind EJ hissed and clicked, whirred and groaned as it was unlocked and undone. The mother abbess strode in without pause, not even waiting for the door to be fully opened before she made her entrance - and she set it to close itself with just as much urgency. She made her way to stand behind Zofia, feet click-clack-clicking on the tile with every step- wait, was she wearing fucking heels? EJ threw her eyes down to check, but the habit''s hem was draped too deeply to show off the abbess''s feet. Probably better that way.


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    "Esper James... sister Esper James. I would first like to congratulate you on a swift recovery. Secondly, I would like to praise you for taking this level of initiative. It''s... uncharacteristic, as far as I understand, for your sort of person to so willingly return to a struggle like this. Thank you, truthfully and sincerely, for your diligence." The mother abbess''s straight black hair, the curtains for her face''s window, shifted gently as she offered EJ a thin-lipped smile. Her teeth, as everyone''s seemed to be in this fucking place, were perfect.


    She crinkled her eyes, putting a hand out, palm facing the ceiling. It took EJ a second to realize what she was doing, what she was beckoning for - and, with stifled hesitance, EJ acquiesced. Palm kissed palm, the mother abbess''s fingers tenderly caressing Esper James''s wrist, and then motion was made. EJ''s hand was drawn up just as the theocrat''s torso inclined, bending at the waist to nearly a right-angle, and the smile on her face was replaced with a soft pucker.


    Mwah. Though the mother abbess was certainly strict with her words and ministrations, the gesture spoke those proverbial thousand words. It meant more to EJ than the minor placations the head of the convent had initially made, and she couldn''t help but let her lips crack in a bashful smile. As her hand was returned, EJ took it upon herself to offer a polite curtsy, thinking it the appropriate response to having your hand taken up and kissed. It always worked in the hundreds of romance novels the blonde had scoured, at least.


    "Oh, thank you, mother abbess. I didn''t know what to expect at first... But now that I''m more aware of the sort of things you and the church are looking to explore, I''m more than happy to provide. Whatever you can learn from me, I''m more than happy to help you learn." The epithet was fifty percent truth, fifty percent bullshit. Just as in those romance novels, EJ had decided to play the grateful, pliant little girl, though now it was willing - it was on purpose. That meant everything to her.


    The mother abbess''s smile remained; it seemed to be reinforced, even, by Esper James''s response. She curtsied in kind, then making a loose and lazy gesture towards Zofia, her gaze following behind. "Sister Zofia? She''s all yours. I only have one thing in mind, really, and I''d like to save that until we... end our testing for today. Lead the way, then, sister Zofia." The mother abbess had barely finished speaking before Zofi straightened her stance, popping up like a whack-a-mole target, hands held straight at her side to let her torso bow.


    "Yes, mother abbess, thank you! Okay, sister EJ, let''s head to the practical testing room!" Zofi didn''t waste a second waiting for any kind of answer, verbal or otherwise; she was racing, in that speed walking way one did in public, to the side room without delay. EJ took a step to follow her, guarding her heart and prepping her body for whatever lay ahead - but before she could get far, the mother abbess took her by the bicep, holding her back for a moment.


    The mother abbess leaned down, black eyeliner making her eyes seem closer to ebon slits as she narrowed them in a look of discretion. When she spoke, her voice had dropped to a hush, not quite a whisper, but still plenty diminished from where it had been moments ago. "Sister Esper James... I will be blunt. I understand you, and sister Purity, and sister Esthrielle, are engaged in a romantic and sexual relationship. I will avert my eyes in this house of God, rest assured, but that''s not what I wanted to discuss."


    The cold flame of fear suddenly bloomed about EJ''s heart, burning chill as winter''s touch and twice as stinging. What the fuck had she done wrong? Was this going to be a reprimand of some kind? The wind that had filled EJ''s sails now flew free across the horizon, confidence and bravado stripped away in a single moment.


    The mother abbess continued, casting a glance towards the doorframe Zofia had passed through only seconds earlier. "I take it that, by your exclusion of your lovers'' presence from this round of testing, you wish them not to know you are here? Sister Esthrielle has been lighting up the public lines, pinging around, asking if anyone has seen you... I can ensure she does not know where you are, and that your partners are placated, for the duration of your time here."


    The sounds of Zofia starting up some sort of machine rang out through the empty doorway, accompanied by the shuffling of papers, the shifting of instruments, and the humming of the researcher''s own sing-song voice. "Would you like that? I assume you would prefer to keep this between the three of us, of course, but... I would not wish to take any undue action, and certainly not without asking you. Respect is essential in all things, of course. So?" The posed question hung like a hunk of meat on a hook.


    Wow, that was unfamiliar! Someone who wasn''t personally her friend, or her partner, giving such a sentiment? Telling Esper James she deserved any respect at all, much less that kind of respect - to ask EJ if she had permission to do something that was rightfully hers to do regardless? Esper James had no fucking clue how to react, honestly... she blinked once, twice, thrice at the mother abbess, mouth opening and closing time and time again as she struggled to formulate an answer.


    Finally, the breaker from mind to body was flipped, and a response was given. "Uhh...! Yeah, yes, please, mother abbess. Thank you so much. I''d... It really did a number on both of them the first time. I''d like to save them from going through that again." She smiled timidly, giving a single affirmative nod to back up what she was saying. The mother abbess smiled back in turn, even offering - salaciously - a wink in response. "You''ve got it, sister Esper James. I''ll make sure they don''t know a thing. Christlike of you, to spare them like that. Here, c''mon, sister Zofia''s waiting."


    While EJ hardly thought herself ''Christlike'', the compliment still helped her gird her spirit for whatever was coming next. The two made their way on towards the other room, slipping past that empty doorframe and into a world of mixed and matched medical equipment. Zofia was stood beside a very normal-looking treadmill, a veritable bouquet of electrode pads and their associated wires bundled in a half-raised fist.


    "Okay! So, sister EJ, first up we''re gonna do a sprint test. You told me earlier that ghouls have all the physical benefits of being undead, right? So, I''m assuming you can hit some serious speeds, yeah? So here, I''d love to monitor your biological processes while you try and hit the fastest gait you can. I, uhh..." She dropped the electrode bundle to hang freely from its root, slipping her only hand into the folds of her habit. Once she brought it back out, she held a blood bag - the type they used for medical transfusions - that she had stuck a plastic bendy-straw into in place of an IV line. The researcher smiled bashfully as she gave it a wiggle between pinched fingers.


    "I heard from some of our field ops, especially sister Esthrielle, that the second-living get a physical boost after consuming blood. Even more so with human blood. Since, uh, since doge Esippardi already gave clearance to provide you spare blood, if you needed it... I made sure to grab a clean bag this time! No stimulants or additives at all! Just normal human blood!" Her smile disappeared, replaced now with an open-mouthed grimace two steps from worry. A light blush came over her face, one that deepened till it threatened to rival the essence in her hands.


    "I even, u-uh, w-warmed it up for you...!"


    That last bit was the ice pick which smashed EJ''s nervousness to pieces, the shattered fragments melting into warm, comforting mirth. She laughed, snorting a little even, shutting her eyes to focus on her own amusement. The mother abbess didn''t seem nearly so amicable about the concept, but she said nothing and made no motion to intervene, no effort to stop either of them.


    "Thank you, Zofia, hahaha! Here, uh... Does this convent have underwear spare? I, ah... I doubt I''ll be able to run in this outfit. And I''m, uh. I''m naked underneath it. Had to rush to get here, and I''d rather not, ehh..." The rest of whatever EJ was planning to say was far from necessary - Zofia had already set the blood bag down on a nearby tray-stand and was rummaging through a cabinet a few paces away. In a moment''s time, grey boyshorts and a matching sports bra were whipped over to Esper James, smacking her in the chest before being caught.


    "Alright! Change into those, and we''ll get started! Oh, and do you want your blood slurpie now, or...? No, no, you''re right. Now is better." EJ hadn''t been given a chance to offer an answer, of course, but one wasn''t necessary - Zofi was correct in her assumption that ''now (was) better''. EJ had to tell herself to only drink half the bag, had to remind herself that when she did, she''d need to make sure not to gorge herself on it immediately. She didn''t know how much blood the Waywards were willing to offer up for her.


    The habit came off; two pairs of eyes were averted. Grey fabric, soft and clean, caressed pale ghoulflesh before being set into the requisite positions. Putting on a sports bra always sat a bit awkwardly with EJ, even nowadays: she didn''t really have a chest to compress in the first place, so they felt redundant, more like a reminder of her own petite nature than an apparatus meant for comfort. Ah, well, it was better than letting Zofia and the mother abbess see her bare breasts. That would have been worse.


    Once modesty was preserved, Esper James made her way to the treadmill, clambering onto it. She got a feel for the tread part of the treadmill, grippy yet not overly rough beneath her bare soles. It wouldn''t be any worse than running on concrete... And the last time she had been barefoot on concrete, with Est, she had been able to gather plenty of speed.


    "Okay, sister Zofia. Mother abbess. I''m as ready as I''ll ever be; let''s get this thing going before I get scared and change my mind." Bold words; bolder sentiment. Saying it aloud made it that much more real to her - helped her feel committed.


    She only hoped this all wasn''t a big mistake.

 Act Four (Ch. 68) - Too Tired; or, Near Miss

    Electrodes kissed soft skin. Bare feet braced themselves upon polyester treads, pale on black, ready to begin. Ready as she''d ever be.


    The monitor bing''d to notify everyone in the room that Esper James was, in fact, alive - on technicality. Her heartbeat was worryingly slow, or would have been so if she had been alive in the first place. In fact, every vital sign they could pull was startlingly slow, so very desperately close to a corpse... except, perhaps worryingly, the actual electrical activity.


    In her chest, near her heart, activity was already beginning to tick at ''normal'' levels. Normal for a Wayward, of course... someone whose body was composed almost entirely of machinery, who had mechanized themselves to nearly constituting an android. All across the ghoulette''s tender, unassuming frame, with its muscle as loose and relaxed as it could be allowed to be... she was lighting up the registers like she had already begun running. Something about her was crackling with energy, just below the skin.


    "Hey... What the...?" Zofia scowled at the monitor, giving it a whack. Percussive maintenance proved itself to be ever so slightly too little; results were not garnered, and the readings remained the same. Another whack, then, this time more forcefully - synthetic skin slapped against sheets of metal, jostling the internal workings with every impact. Another whack, then again, then again, then- The mother abbess''s hand shot out to take Zofi by the wrist as the latter lady wound back once again.


    The abbess stared at Zofi, facing away from EJ, though from Zofia''s unblinking return-stare, they had locked eyes and entered a sort of trance. It was actually an uncomfortably long amount of time before any motion was made - even their breathing seemed to stop, eyes unblinking, bodies still as statues. EJ smiled awkwardly, looking around to try and occupy herself in any way she could.


    Of course, she had no idea what the monitors meant... what their readings implied, what their feeds displayed. She had watched plenty of cop shows where they go to interrogate someone in the hospital, and they''re hooked up to a... what was it... EKG machine? And those had always been taking readings of whoever was laid up in the hospital bed, but none of the shows ever explained what the point was. EJ could only figure it was something about bodily activity - and even then, she had no idea what normal levels would look like.


    Zofi''s rhetorical musings were the only thing which had given Esper James any real indication that things were weird. Those, and the fact that she had just attempted a mugging on her own machinery. Really, what had that thing done to piss Zofia off so badly? The time to ponder was cut short by the return of both women''s attentions, turning nearly as one to observe the blonde anew. The mother abbess offered Esper James a smile that she supposed was an attempt at comfort, but it came across more as a stern headmistress who was two seconds from beating an insubordinate child.


    "Sister Esper James, please forgive sister Zofia for her little... outburst just then, won''t you? She was, ah... She''s had quite the time, recently, what with her... arm..." The mother abbess gestured to Zofia''s empty socket and tied sleeve, her smile never wavering, but her brows dropping further into a scowl-smile bastard child. Zofia looked away bashfully, chancing a soft twinkle of laughter... though it hardly seemed or sounded genuine.


    Esper James nodded, the awkward atmosphere only deepening its hold on the trio of ladies. It was like some kind of muck of social inability, a thick, sludgy mire which held each in sway with its sticky, gluey mass. She lifted a verbal leg, feeling that bog''s filth sucking at her proverbial feet. "Ah-ha-hah, yeah...! I''m... I''m gonna drink this blood now. Not all of it, just... Just enough, haha! Okay-y-y! Let''s do this, and then I''ll just... start running, I guess!"


    The blood bag lay like an abandoned juice sack on a nearby tray-stand, straw angled upwards. If Esper James really tried hard, really poured herself into the act of it, she could swear she could smell the blood''s warmth and essence through the millimeter-sized hole of the straw. It tempted her, even now... Even after the other night when she''d thought she''d had every last drop of blood she could have ever wanted. Fuck.


    Her hand took the bag in its grasp, fingers wrapping the squishy sack of plastic and plasma in a five-armed hug. Esper James could feel herself begin to tremble, for only a moment, as she raised the blood bag up towards her mouth. She tried not to feel the eyes of Zofia and the mother abbess on her as she did so, though - tried and failed, it would seem. The two holy women were wholly engrossed in the display, even though the display hadn''t yet properly begun. Just the promise of seeing her guzzle blood was like a circus freak show exhibition, and the audience of two was at rapt attention to watch the proceedings.


    Lips parted, allowing gentle breath to roll free... The released gust rolled across the bag''s exterior, a summer breeze over a mown field, warm and light yet drawing no ripples. And then EJ stuck the straw between her front fangs and closed her mouth. Those soft pink lips wrapped about the straw''s plastic carcass, cheeks becoming the barest bit concave, tongue retracting as its root came to contact the rear of the soft palate. Sanguine succor coursed up that synthetic vein, lone and white, pooling on a ghoul''s drooling tongue before being gulped down hastily.


    It was as good as it always was, as euphoric as it had always been. Her muscles roared to a life nearing individuality; her brain kicked into overdrive, a personal computer overclocked to the gills and then some. The familiar twitching had dulled, however... That old friend, the uncontrollable rush of lust and excitement, was less focused on up-front payoff. Of course, blood flow in her own rivers and lakes had been restored to phenomenal efficacy, and so the lack of immediate delight was still accompanied by the expected swell, throb, and twitch.


    Her body roiled, as it oft did, as it always had... Always until recently, it seemed. Every time she had drank from Purity or Est, every dose, she had been trying harder and harder, focusing more and more on keeping a level head. She had remembered how it felt to lose control, and while she had been thinking first of the blood-hunger that inspired her to bite Purity, and then the cat, and then the man... Now, she thought back to the bowl of blood she had been fed. She thought well upon how it had made her feel - what to expect, and how to subvert it.


    How to stay herself, even when her body didn''t feel like her own.


    Despite the stiffness betwixt her thighs, the stiffened nibs on her chest, and the way her whole body seemed to flex and relax in a wave of timed exertion, Esper James felt surprisingly fine. It took some strength, a great deal of it, to cut herself off... To stop the flow of blood, to stop the oral love she shared with that pale plastic tongue. Just as she had thought of her past failures to prevent a new one from occurring, she reminded herself of the pool - of the willpower she had shown, of how she had followed through despite her own doubt. It was enough.


    The straw left her mouth, and she was left there, eyes readjusting to see what Zofia and the mother abbess thought of it all. Zofia''s eyes were like a deer on a Midwestern road, staring into forty tons of death racing its way. Her mouth, however, was shaped into the most absolutely charged smile Esper James had ever seen the woman bear - it almost made up for the missing arm, EJ thought to herself. Zofia''s smile was infectious - hell, it was plaguelike in its spread. EJ smiled back from ear to ear, giggling softly, forcing herself to set the blood bag back down on the tray.


    The mother abbess, however, was less enthused about this whole thing. Her eyes, too, were saucers - she regarded Esper James as if she was watching an orphanage burn, an arson with no survivors. Her right hand was over her mouth, though one could tell from the way her cheeks were drawn that she was forming a silent gasp. Her pupils were contracted to pinpricks; every hackle she may have had was raised, without doubt.


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    "Wh-... Are you... Sister Esper James, are you...?" The mother abbess gestured down, her hand raising at waist height and falling not far from its initial position. Zofia''s eyes followed the motion down, seeing to what her superior was referring to - and the grin on Zofi''s lips broke for a moment, forming a delighted gasp before her beam returned, now redoubled. The nun tried not to laugh, and said nothing in particular... though Esper James was convinced that Zofi was filming, with how intently she was staring.


    The blonde hadn''t been this aware of her own womanhood, pressed to the fabric of her boyshorts, since Purity had popped her cherry two weeks ago. It was... it was anything but the same sort of feeling, really. The two couldn''t have been further apart. Esper James opened her mouth, incensed, balling up every ounce of courage she had to form a paper wad of wrath to whip towards her interrogator. She stopped, however, when she took a second to actually consider it all.


    The mother abbess had literally seen her naked just earlier today. Zofia had, too - even if only one of them had cut her free of her habit after the breath test, the other had surely seen EJ being carried out of the damn lab. If she had had an issue with Esper James having a different loadout than her, well, she could have said something earlier. She likely would have, if she had been upset by it.


    No, no... Further thought reminded Esper James of a striking truth between the first-living and the second-living: only one of them normally got aroused and swelled to full mast after quaffing human blood like a juice bag. Yep, no, that was... That was definitely what it was. Great - now EJ''d need to convince these women that she wasn''t some kind of weird, sadistic pervert, on top of trying to hide that she was very much a normal, unassuming, run-of-the-mill pervert. It would be too hard to avoid being a pervert wholesale, so... She''d have to make do.


    "I-! No, no, hold on...! No, I... It just... The b-blood, it, uh...! My body just does this! Every second-living does this! It''s n-not a... It''s not a sex thing! I promise, I''m not getting anything out of this! I''m not r-riled up, not... Not sexually! This just happens! It''s from the blood!" She had felt ready to give it an honest try, attempting to shut down any thoughts of cannibalistic carnality that may have borne fruit within their minds... but when she tried, she just sounded like she was scrambling to defend herself.


    She was. She was telling the truth, but still, she was falling over herself trying to get these two women not to think of her as a degenerate. The mother abbess shut her eyes and pulled in the air around, a long breath entering her lungs and not yet being given permission to flee. She blinked, finally, long and hard and with a sense of determination that lent itself to the image that she was trying to squeeze what she had seen from her brain, if not her eyes. A heavy sigh, then, before another breath rolled in.


    "Well. Regardless, dearest sister Esper James... Detached of whatever your proclivities may be in the bedroom... The blood is having a fascinating effect on your musculature. Are you... you''re not doing this actively, are you? It''s not a conscious effort?" The mother abbess''s words came with a level of concern that seemed to imply a desired answer: she wanted EJ to tell her no, it wasn''t something she was trying to do.


    It made sense. If Esper James had that level of control over her muscles... Well, that would be a terrifying concept just on principle, if not in the context of her being a potential enemy to the Waywards. It would''ve allowed her to do... Well, she actually couldn''t really think of any specifics, though she knew it would''ve been impressive to have that sort of individual muscle control. She would probably have been an amazing dancer with skills like that, if nothing else.


    "No! No, no, haha, sorry mother abbess... No, this is... This just happens. All of it. Most people get a little weird too, kinda ''pushed down'' under the sensation of it all... but I''ve, er. I''ve been drinking a lot of raw, fresh blood recently, and not taking my meds anymore, so... I''ve got a different sort of reaction to it, I guess? It doesn''t fuck with my brain how it used to." She smiled with wavering grace, a timid expression for a timid girl who leaned on a strategy of appeasement.


    At the lack of an immediate answer, EJ began to shift back and forth from heel to heel, swaying side to side to accompany her worried heart. The mother abbess''s eyes bored a hole into EJ''s head and then through it, punching down to the machinery behind... but she said nothing more on the topic, simply hmmph-ing and giving a nod.


    "Alright. Fine. Hop to it then, sister Esper James... Let''s-..." She was cut off once again as she looked towards the readouts for EJ''s electrodes. The machine had begun to emit a gentle warning beep... A soft little sound, so innocuous, so positively unassuming... but even without touching it directly, Esper James could feel the heat shimmering from its entirety. Whatever was going on inside her, whatever unknown energy was rippling through her meat, it was more than the machine had been built to withstand. It was dying trying to even comprehend what her biosigns were putting out.


    The mother abbess''s jaw fell once more, but this time she was quick to right it; Zofia was the researcher, it was her problem to deal with. The abbess would just urge Esper James to perform as she''d agreed to; that fit them all pretty well, she thought. "Alright! No more distractions. Go ahead, sister Esper James, just... Begin running, and I''ll increase the speed until it seems like you''ve peaked. Go on." And without waiting for a response, the treadmill''s blackened belt began to make its rotations.


    EJ did as she was told, legs spurred into motion: right then left then right once again, beginning at a walk, then a hustle, then a jog, then a run... The run was where things grew more gradual in their incline, though it had only taken a few seconds to get to that point in the first place. Esper James was more than able to keep up with the pace she had been dealt, foot and shin and thigh all raising in repeated unison with every footfall. The faster she went, however, the lower she began to lean... the closer to the ground she got, instinctively drooping.


    It didn''t feel right, didn''t feel natural, to run standing up. It felt weird... Felt too performative, too much like a thing she was doing just because others were watching her. Getting down nearer to the surface below her, the blackened spool which was whipping by, just felt... right. The hunch had become near to a crouch, and as the speed increased... fuck it. Fuck it, who cared if they saw? Esper James certainly didn''t - she was fairly certain the mother abbess still found her distasteful on principle, and Zofia...


    Well, it''d take a little more than this to break Zofia of her gross fetishism.


    Palms touched down upon the singular tread, EJ''s whole body now thrown into the action of sprinting. At this point it was less of a sprint and more of a fevered, needful dash, a burst of the rawest speed that Esper James''s body could produce. Hands beat the drums of war upon the treadmill''s track, feet joining in to keep time and pace; the girl with the dyed tips felt more bestial by the second, lowering herself just barely more; she didn''t even care that it set her ever so slightly off-balance.


    Much like how her chest had hurt in the breath exercise, reminding her of a seemingly ancient pain which she had nigh upon forgotten existed, this scramble too seemed to dredge up memories of another time, when her body had been both more and less her own. Subtle hints of exercise fatigue began to appear in her body, clarifying themselves as the seconds ran - EJ couldn''t help but imagine the fading of a song on the radio, but in reverse. It grew slowly, the sensation starting as a minor annoyance and only drawing to a sort of discomfort after nearly twenty seconds, but it was both refreshing and revolting that it had shown its hideous face at all.


    EJ grimaced, then, throwing herself into the action with every bit more gusto. She put forth all that she had to give and then some, the sounds of whatever Zofia and the mother abbess may be saying now completely drowned out by the squealing, whirring din of that polyester track beneath her. It screamed in protest as she ran, howling out for respite. Such agonized autonomous audio couldn''t do anything to distract Esper James, however; she kept on at the same sort of gradual increase, having long since nearly reached her apex, but every fistful of seconds gave a glimpse of heightened speed.


    Would this thing break? A sick part of Esper James wanted to try and run this machine into the ground in the most literal sense possible, throwing herself into the act as emphatically as she could, until the training apparatus''s auto-pilot offed itself. And if not that, if not causing an error within the program, she wanted to create an error within the actual operation. She wanted to fuck it up. She wanted to break it. However she achieved this didn''t really matter, at least not to her.


    The mother abbess''s voice rose now, feeling more dominant, more curious, and more personable with her as she peeked her head into the affairs of her subordinates. She did, at the very least, address Esper James almost immediately - EJ recognized her own name, but the tone wasn''t desperate enough to pierce the veil of concentration. Instead, her thoughts were glued on a singular idea: the abbess needed a ghoul, someone who the Easterners could rely upon. One who was, admittedly, hurting sorely for any sort of clout... anything to prove that she was worthy, of anything...


    She took a deep breath, pushing out one final burst of speed. She swore she could hear the EKG machine burst into flames.

 Act Four (Ch. 69) - Full Worm Garden; or, Lover Ungrateful

    It wasn''t the EKG machine, but something did break. Something worrying; something all too important to simply ignore. Something that threw Esper James face-first into the machine before her, that plasticine barrier of the treadmill''s forward expanse ramming straight into her. Or, rather, she into it. It didn''t matter, in the end - and she hardly had the wherewithal to make sense of it, at first.


    An explosion of a new type, now. Stars whirled by Esper James''s head in a cosmic blur, her conscious thought the center of its own galaxy, countless celestial bodies blanketing her vision. She could feel a wetness on her face - she could see nothing but the dark grey of processed dinosaurs and the bones of the earth. And, after a moment of collection, that astral abyss of gleaming, grease-toned blood. These things were her only perceptions, sound long since thrown away, disregarded with a religiosity to border on the fanatic. What good was hearing, anyways?


    And then, the pain. She tried to breathe in through her nose, to gasp as one does, sucking in air to stabilize her body if not her mind - though her lungs instead drank blood, and that blood was not so sweet as it often seemed to be. The stinging, bleeding, catastrophic thing that had become her face as it had buried itself into the machine was wracked with an agony that was delayed, but not diminished.


    Only one thought, then. ''I''m bleeding''. She spoke it moments after she said it, tone untinged with suffering, but wallowing in a pool of disbelief. She was bleeding. Why was she bleeding? What had happened? She had been running - she had been running, but now, her brain having slammed hard enough into its protective casing to concuss a peanut, she couldn''t seem to really remember why she had been running. Where was she? What was going on? Where was Judas?


    Judas. Judas would know what to do... Any time Esper James bled, it was always Judas''s fault - but any time she got fixed, it was Judas''s fault, too. That''s what she had been told, anyways. If she... If she could just find her owner boss, she would know what to do. How to help. How to make the pain go away... With pills, maybe? Esper James had taken so many pills in her life. They always seemed to help, somehow.


    She blinked; now, she was sitting. Something black, and kinda rubbery but not really, sat limp and unattended beneath her. God, her face fucking hurt, didn''t it? EJ''s tongue drifted the flats of her oral orifice, tasting teeth that were unsocketed and sitting free; tasting shards of plastic that were buried in her flesh, piercing her lips and cheeks, and the acrid, ashen blood that made a thickness of it all. It was like the world''s worst tasting pudding, really, bitter as licking a freshly-used fire pit, and grainy. God, it was fucking grainy. Where was Judas, again?


    Sound slowly faded in, like the start of a hot new single made for radio. People were yelling, maybe behind her? Metal spun, whirred, ground, clicked... It was an awful din, wasn''t it? EJ wished, absently, that she had some kind of ear plugs in. Maybe some Tsang Airwaves... They always looked so cool, on the billboards, on the ads she saw when browsing the internet. Jesus, fuck, her face really hurt, huh?


    The ghoul spat her own teeth out, and they landed on her lap. Oh! She was wearing something, some kind of shorts! Comfy. That was pretty nice. Somewhere outside of her hazed perception, she was aware of the way her gums bled and ached, new ivory beginning to form therein. That hurt too, she figured, aware of the pain but not really able to fully process that pain was bad and that she should be concerned about this. That is, until she tried to open her mouth to call for her supervisor.


    Opening wide, she noticed that she didn''t actually open her mouth at all. Not in the normal way, at least...she could get about an inch of leeway, a singular little O-ring formed by her lips, but nothing so accessible as she needed. She blinked, slow and lazy, like a frog in the rain. Maybe more like a cat - one that looked at its owner, heart full of love and trust, showing that they knew they were safe? EJ thought she was safe. Maybe she was.


    Then, her body knit its grey matter back together just enough to realize she was in fucking agony.


    A horrible scream erupted from the ghoul as mental faculties slowly returned, enough that she could actually parse what she was seeing, what she was thinking, what she was feeling. Before her sat the treadmill''s actual control panel, rendered unusable by the second-living skull that had smashed into it like a cannonball. Below her, the treadmill''s spool had failed - she had wanted to break it, hadn''t she? She had succeeded. Something gave way, beneath the tread itself, unable to keep up with the drumbeat of her agility: repeated blows from ghoulish hands and feet had set something loose, and at that speed, something loose became a great many things loose.


    Her face was full of shrapnel. She only became aware, then, that her right eye was... was unresponsive. She wasn''t even sure she could see out of it. It hurt like a bitch, and she could feel blood and tears mixing to make the world''s most pain-laden cocktail as they ran as rivers interlaced down her cheeks. She was missing teeth, more teeth than she dared count with her tongue - a tongue that was split, having been the victim of a stray bite during her impact. She was bleeding out fast, and while her body could make more, sure... would it even be fast enough?


    Fear, then. Fear above the pain, the smoke above a fire, filling her mind and choking her brain. She continued to howl, as much as she could, as her consciousness brought itself back from the brink of nonexistence. Of course, the control panel of a fucking treadmill wasn''t made to withstand the force of that sort of impact - hell, she doubted it could withstand any real abuse, whether from Wayward or second-living alike.


    Her hearing returned in full, then, a blessing and a curse. Zofia was... crying? Not sad tears, but the kind of awful wailing that comes at the site of a terrible tragedy. It shocked Esper James enough that she stopped her own expression of pain, halting the next scream of utter, ragged suffering in its tracks. The mother abbess, however, was panicked - and pissed. Not at anyone in particular, it seemed, but in more of a general sense. As Esper James turned to her with that gleam of intelligence having since returned to her eyes, the abbess calmed down... but only just.


    "Sister Esper James, can you hear me? Nod once for yes. Don''t speak - words are unnecessary." She glared sternly down at the bloodied blonde, pupils flicking to every little scrape and tear and pierce and scratch that she could find. Presumably, there were plenty. EJ nodded once, slowly enough to not jostle her bruised brain any further, though it still put an even fresher ache within her pounding, taut neck.


    The abbess sighed, something that bordered on relief but didn''t dare overstep its boundaries. She closed her eyes for a few moments, trying to focus, trying to think on what to do next... how to fix this, hopefully. She''d have to know what to do, right? EJ, through the pain that continued to send its countless foul tendrils crackling through her body and mind like lightning, could only hope that the mother abbess would have some kind of plan.


    "Alright. Good. Sister Zofia? Go... Go to your room. Get washed up. Take a nap. Just... get the fuck out of here, would you?!" Now it was Zofi''s turn to be jarred into silence, the profanity from her superior seeming to shatter whatever grief she could have been tangling with like it was... well, a treadmill, all things considered. The brown haired girl nodded hastily, giving Esper James one final apologetic glance before rushing from the room, sobbing to herself the whole way. EJ could hear the door to the lab unlock, open, then close and re-lock.


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    Just the two of them, then. Esper James, the ghoulish girl so far out of her own element, and the mother abbess, a stern and strict woman who seemed every bit the icon of authority she was required to be. EJ''s own vocalizations returned, eye(s) locked in a perpetual wince of anguish, her body already beginning to feel light even as the scabs began to form.


    It would take hours for this all to heal. Sure, it would feel better as it did... and sure, it would all be done before bedtime tonight... but it was going to be hell, wasn''t it? Esper James absently searched, with what vision she could still exert, for the IV stands from earlier in the evening. Morphine sounded... sounded fucking excellent right now, honestly. If she could speak, she would''ve asked for it, but she didn''t want to spit any more blood on the floor and risk the mother abbess getting any angrier. Even in the deepest pits of physical torment, Esper James could only seem to think of staying on others'' good sides.


    The mother abbess waited until Zofi had been gone for at least ten seconds before dropping to a squat, now only a foot from where Esper James sat like an abandoned plushie. A hand went up from the mother abbess, going to caress EJ''s cheek - but stopped just as contact was about to be made, its owner having thought better of the gesture. It would only hurt EJ more, wouldn''t it? And the little ghoul was being so good, keeping her sobs down, trying to remain attentive through the torture she was wracked with.


    The hand instead raised ever so slightly higher, thumb and forefinger protruding, going to take something gingerly in their grasp. EJ felt a wave of nausea and raw, electrifying pain jolt through her system as the mother abbess made an exploratory pull upon whatever sort of debris had pierced EJ''s right eye. Another tug made EJ retch, dry heaving from the nausea and torment of the action, coupled with the wet slurpch-grnnch emanation that came from a few centimeters of movement.


    The mother abbess decided that perhaps it would be best to leave it where it was.


    "Sister Esper James... I am not mad, not at you. Not at sister Zofia. This was... unprecedented. We had no idea that the... second-living held such capabilities. We didn''t know that this would happen. But now, we''re faced with a difficult situation..." She sighed, furrowing her brows and squeezing her eyes shut in exasperation. The hand that hadn''t just touched the sopping wet shard of machinery in EJ''s eye went up to pinch at the bridge of her own nose, the mother abbess drawing a deep breath to accompany it.


    She released it in a great huff, one that made what strands of EJ''s hair that hadn''t been painted with ebony ichor flutter as if in a breeze. "Your people have... phenomenal natural healing capabilities. I am sure you can survive this, and through surviving it, you will learn a lesson in caution. But also, you will suffer, immensely, I am sure. However..."


    Another breath in; another breath out. For a woman like the mother abbess to slow her speech to this degree, as if she was dancing around some conclusion so distasteful she dare not utter it, was anything but comforting. EJ felt her right eye attempt to move as she looked to the side, if only to avoid the mother abbess''s own eyes - the feeling of aborted motion, prevented through being pinned by a foreign object, nearly sent Esper James back into a dry heave. Instead, she simply wept and cried as quietly as she could. It, unfortunately, wasn''t that quiet.


    The mother abbess continued, rising up to a stand. Her robes fluttered from the motion, reminiscent of the veil put about a statue before its revelation. "Your people are, again, resilient. Your... subspecies, we''ll say. Ghouls. They are quicker to heal themselves than any other, and you''ve drank blood recently... so it will be even faster, won''t it? But... Even still, you will be put through an affliction I would not wish upon my worst enemy. And so, I... I must propose a second path."


    She shut her eyes again, gathering up some sort of internal strength. Esper James was even more worried now, frankly - with her mental faculties still working on coming back in full, and the pain in her brain and eye and face and teeth and this and that and the other thing? She couldn''t really imagine why the mother abbess was so nervous about whatever she was about to say, but it caused fear to blossom anew for the second time in the last fifteen or so minutes.


    "There is a simpler solution, and one that... One that I would not level upon you willingly, not after your willingness to work with us. But, it is for that same compliance that I provide this offer, because... Because otherwise, perhaps I would think it better, safer, to let you suffer through it." She grimaced, looking over to one of the cabinets which lined the wall. She took a few steps towards it, black blooded hand gripping the handle and opening it. The door concealed what was inside, at least to Esper James.


    There was a sound, the distinct sound of heavy plastic and polymer against metal, as the mother abbess reached in and took something. From the cabinet''s depths she withdrew a sleek black object, streamlined but heavy all at once, modern and iconic and horrible and nightmarish. It was the exact sort of thing Esper James had night terrors about; it was also the exact sort of thing that would, admittedly, speed this whole ordeal along.


    The mother abbess pressed the release switch, dropping the handgun''s magazine out and into her other palm to be inspected. She set the handgun down, going then to remove the bullets one by one, setting them on the tray which held that half-finished blood bag. The silvered pellet of each potential projectile caught the light, death''s heads meant for a true finale for any second-living that may have breached the convent, presumably. Now, though? Their lethal nature wasn''t quite so necessary.


    "I could kill you. In the... temporary way, you understand. Kill you, condemn your soul to purgatory for as many moments as it takes for the vessel to be renewed, and then... Well, er... We''ll figure something out for afterwards." She began to load the empty magazine with new, standard bullets, from a box inside the firearm cabinet.


    Esper James was petrified. Paralyzed, absolutely - she couldn''t even cry anymore, her body refusing all input. The ghoulette''s head felt light now, senses beginning to fade out now, slowly but surely... no longer from concussion, but from blood loss. She knew she didn''t have long to make a choice, but if even if she made a choice, what would that choice be? To die, literally die, at the hands of a woman she had only met a few days ago? To trust that the mother abbess wouldn''t just burn her or something after she was corpse''d, and be rid of the ghoulette forever?


    Or, to live through a sort of torture that even the cruelest inquisitor would consider inhumane? To be forced to sleep, wake, sleep, and wake again, bleeding less each time but still enough to feel her wounds ache and sting and plead for that death she would deny? To sink into that black lake of the reaper''s own design, surface anew for long enough to get her bearings, and then drop back below the waves?


    The mother abbess finished loading her weapon, turning to regard Esper James once again. She approached, then, with the solemnity of a reluctant executioner. Esper James may not have been her friend, but it still seemed to weigh heavily upon the mother abbess that she may need to put the ghoulish waif upon the chopping block. With another heavy sigh, the question was posed once more, the mother abbess having concentrated the strength required to actually look Esper James in the eye as she asked again.


    "Alright, sister Esper Ja-... Sorry. EJ. That''s what you prefer, right? EJ. Hold up your left hand to die... Hold up your right hand to be spared, and cling to your pain."


    Shakily, so very shakily, EJ lifted an arm. It felt as though the weight of the world was leveled upon that one limb, straining against her at every inch of distance, fighting to keep her from making a choice at all. But, Esper James thought of a song she had once heard, back when she was still truly alive - of a line from it, about making decisions. If you choose not to decide, you still have made a choice. And the choice of apathy would have been far too much for her heart to bear, even despite her current trauma.


    Once the ghoul''s left arm was fully raised, the mother abbess used her free hand to lower it, gently, back down to the blonde''s side. The Wayward matriarch nodded once, curt and stoic, a new resolve forming like concrete in her countenance. She raised the gun up to EJ''s forehead, slowly so as not to startle her, though this had the added side effect of giving Esper James plenty of time to worry about what came next.


    Of course, they both knew what came next, didn''t they? Esper James had seen this plenty of times on TV... Executions of second-living carried out by Easterners, condemning them to that unknowable place beyond the realms of death. A macabre thought formed in Esper James''s mind as she waited, teary-eyed and bloody, vision having begun to swim. Even now, even after being able to raise the dead, no one could really agree - or prove, definitively - what came after death.


    "Close your eyes, EJ. I... I hear it''s like a kiss, sweetheart. I hear it''s like greeting an old friend, or a lover... And though your stay with them may not be long, I... I''m sure it will be better than this. Close your eyes, my dear..."


    Bang.

 Act Four (Ch. 70) - Dreams in Daylight; or, Nights Eternal Song

    Black.


    All around.


    Everything, really. Herself, too. She was just a midnight void, a phased existence, a concept composed of a million-million ideas that never really amounted to more than herself. Constant, unending absence... and yet, still, a soul - a consciousness - remained.


    Why?


    She pondered it to herself. She''d never really died before. Never in, uh... in a way that didn''t start with pain and then immediately blink to an awakening within the caustic amniotic fluids of a morgue''s cold-womb. Never in a way that didn''t still give her nightmares, thirty plus years later, making her wake up in a cold sweat as the reaper came for her in the form of rigid steel and burning rubber. Never in a way that didn''t make her cry when she remembered it in the evenings... though she had never told her therapist about that.


    Some things were too personal to be shared outside of the mind of the self, she figured. Like, yes, the corporate counselor at Tsang HQ had told her that therapy was important... that she really should be medicating, because most people got past their death in the first decade... but fuck that guy. She had always figured he was just trying to slip her some benzos and get her nice and pliant. He seemed the type.


    But enough about him. The consciousness of a girl had been given momentary peace, a brief respite, and she didn''t want to fucking spend it thinking about the sleazy dude who Tsang had assigned to make sure she wasn''t too suicidal. No... instead, she thought of things that brought comfort. Things she wanted to return to... things she couldn''t wait to get back to, honestly.


    First up? Purity. Sure... she had a rocky relationship with the pinkette. It ate away at the non-Purity entity that Puri had, to be blunt, tried to coerce her into sex- no. Rape. It was rape, girlie. Sex without consent is rape, she reminded herself, even if she would normally have wanted that rapist under normal circumstances. Hell, she had already given herself - willingly and enthusiastically - to said would-be-rapist only days prior. She had tasted the apple of Eden, and drank deep of sin''s dark delights... and found those pleasures of the flesh all too delicious.


    And yet... Yeah. No, yeah. Purity had tried to rape her, and yet... Purity had also begged her, crying, to be taken back. She had realized what she had done was nigh upon unforgivable; she had been bitten, kicked, and treated in a way deserved of a rapist, and yet her love was still strong. She had stayed, despite it all - even after the ghoulette had fucking killed a dude, and set them both to be fugitives, she had stayed.


    So... The idea of a blonde felt her heart-no-heart chill and pale, growing heavy at the edges but hollow within - a leaden effigy, full of room for more than what was present, but outwardly far too weighty for much more than grief. So the ex-secretary had taken her back, taken her in... stayed with her, and even made it that much more official. They were... together now. No more situationship. No more tentative dance about what they were - they were lovers, officially, and without question.


    Was it worth it?


    Amorphous blackness closed its eyes though it had none, mentally pinching the bridge of an amorphous, endless-yet-nonexistent nose. Fuck. Fu-u-uck. That was enough about Purity... she could wake up mad, frankly, and then give Purity a renewed piece of her mind. Or maybe not, really. Maybe she''d just... Take the path of least resistance, which lay intertwined with the path of greatest comfort. Having the pinkette around had really... it had really done something good, in the end, for the girl with the emerald eyes.


    But that was, as she reminded herself actively and with more than a pinch of self loathing, e-fucking-nough about Purity. No... The next mote of comfort she clung to was chestnut of flesh, pale of lock, and ruby-eyed in a way that would make even a vampire jealous. Her name was Esthrielle. Esthrielle Esippardi, apparently, though the comfort-starved wraith had yet to really understand her relationship with the man who was apparently a dohge. Doje? Doughj? Was that really how you pronounced it?


    Fucking Italian. All floral vowels and soft consonants. Eastern languages had been a topic she had taken in college, back when she was alive enough for college... they had kicked her out after she had been manslaughtered vehicularly, of course. Some institutions only played with the second-living - some, those who were stubborn and paranoid and perhaps just a bit racist (speciesist? existentialist?) denied all but the true-living, the first-living.


    Anywho.


    Esthrielle had been... Well? She also had a strange relationship with the docile little lamb who was dead-but-dreaming even now. Their first meeting had been a whirlwind of thought, emotion, and sensation for the girl with the needle-sharp teeth. Even now she could imagine the crackle of electricity as it flowed through Est''s blade; even now, she could still see the gleam of its light upon Est''s reinforced carapace, black and polished as a beetle''s own. The smell of charring flesh, inanimate yet animate, accompanied the memory.


    Est had killed that man, the potential abuser, and saved the would-be victim from a new and permanent trauma, a black brand upon her soul which would never really go away. And then, of course, Est had ordered her to take the pair of them somewhere safe - back to the golden haired girl''s apartment. She had been so very gruff, then... so very, very gruff. Brusque. Demanding. Concise.


    In hindsight, it was everything Est had needed to be. The then-Tsang employee would have bubbled and gushed and sobbed and floundered without a strong, firm hand to guide her after such an abhorrent, abominable experience. And, of course, it was just how Est was, in a lot of ways - even now, after having shared everything two people truly could (some exceptions may apply), Est was just a short-tempered and short-spoken sort of woman. It was how it was, as the youth of the UNAC would say.


    So... Est, an in-the-flesh icon to represent every little fault of the East against the West, had become something of an antagonist for a bit. She was, to be blunt, a terrorist. A religious extremist. A murderer. The argument could be made that she was a genocidal maniac, a xenophobic bigot who would see all like the girl she had saved laying dead in the streets. And yet... she had saved the gal with the black-dyed tips.


    Est had saved her. She didn''t have to save her. She could have just grabbed anyone off the street, or even just let that awful man do his dark deed and then swooped in while his victim was alone, cold and vulnerable, dripping with someone else''s lust and her own blood. She would have been far too weak and fragile to even think of denying the Wayward, much less giving her all the muted fury she had been bestowed in the apartment. Est would never have known the teeth of a ghoul, because the ghoul wouldn''t have been strong enough of spirit to deliver such alabaster daggers.


    And more than that? Est had... had missed her, on purpose, in Judas''s manse. She had aimed the gun, and there was no possible way she would have missed unless she had intended to miss. Her bullet had gone wide, sparing the sleepy secretary, and buried itself into the wall behind blonde hair. And in the factory? In the winter''s chill, bleeding and dying, her whole body failing her? Est had never disparaged the other woman. She had attempted to make amends, if anything.


    Est had sought her out. Est was here with her now - here with both of them, her and Purity. She had chosen to let herself take comfort in the hearts and arms of others, despite it all. Differences were put aside, for the good of all involved. It made the ghost in the black feel a bit sad... a bit remorseful, really. She wished she had been nicer to Est when they had first met. She had never been what Esper had thought she had been.


    Esper?


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    Who the hell was Esper?


    Esper... Was that her name? Esper was a cute name, a name that was chosen, not bequeathed. But still... it didn''t feel right. It felt wrong, in all honesty - wrong, in a way that set the thought-that-was-named Esper ill at ease. There was something else... some remnant, buried deep within her brain-no-brain, like a potsherd at a prolific dig site. She remembered there were a ton of dig sites in the East, lots of them in... Italy.


    Why the fuck did it keep coming back to Italy?


    Well, if the remnant was an Italian potsherd, perhaps her identity was the rubble left by the Roman empire. Perhaps she was, in a great many ways, just a ruin waiting for excavation. She set her mind, then, to dig: clearing away what clinging memories still clouded her formless conscience, the dirt and debris of a thousand thousand moments lost like tears in rain. There was a memory slowly floating to the surface of her detached sea of waking dreams, a sticky sort of recollection that would have been a footnote if not for the import of its words.


    It was her name - her full name. Her full first name, anyways. Everyone needed a first name. Last names were... subjective. Vestiges of a time when it mattered who you were born to as much as who you were. Well, Esper supposed, nepotism still existed... but not in the same way! Not the same way at all.


    She focused on the memory fragment with everything she could muster, feeling her arms and legs and neck and chest and loins and lower jaw even though those things didn''t really exist. They began to tingle, slowly but surely, and she realized that she was rebuilding herself through her own slow assertion of what actually constituted her. Wow, very philosophical - she never realized she was such a thinker, but then, there was always time to become something new. That was a thing she had forgotten, she figured, but the idea of becoming something new... it had been buried away, much like this potsherd. It felt good to clear away the dust.


    And then, suddenly, a surfacing. A face came then, one that mingled delight and dread, excitement and exasperation. Black hair appeared in the black void, an absent face in the abyss alongside. Esper was rewarded with the knowledge of lips moving within that infinite black, body restoring itself even as her awareness became numb, dragged out of inky midnight waters like waterlogged salvage.


    "Esper James, I''m not a woman who lets such trivial problems interrupt my life. Do I make myself clear?"


    -


    A gasp. A scream. A striking, shocking pain, one that was etched into a nonexistent bore hole straight from her forehead through to the back of her skull. Esper James''s mouth went wide and panted, struggling with the pain of reawakening - the lack of wetness upon her, and the sudden reminder that she did in fact have a body to deal with, only added to her frantic bewilderment.


    It was bright around her. There were people. There were a lot of people, frankly; a lot of people for such a small room, at least. Dozens and dozens of sets of black robes and black veils, habits and headdresses, their owners all watching her like hawks. Someone was taking notes. Someone was inches from her face. Someone still was giving her an injection, one that made her body feel as heavy as an anchor as it flowed into dead veins. Everyone who wasn''t observing her was simply watching, faces stoic, but pupils glued to her.


    A blink. A scream, the memory of a bullet piercing her frontal lobes and ravaging her skull beginning to fade like post-surgical pain. It was horrible, but despite her body''s response to such torture, her heart felt light. She was Esper James! That was her name! She was Esper James, the ghoul, the girl who had... who had done a lot, frankly. A lot in these last few weeks, at least. A life of monotony flooded into her mental pathways like a landslide, and she became herself again, knowing what and who she was without the shadow of a doubt.


    She looked around tentatively, trying - and failing - to suppress the smile that awkwardly formed itself upon her still-healing lips and jaw. Many of the onlookers, the nuns which surrounded her like a murder of crows, smiled in return; theirs were tight-lipped almost one and all, though the softening of their expressions seemed practiced in their relief. A singular cheer arose, then. The other women, those who hadn''t cheered, each began to fall about themselves in elation and satisfaction, cheering and clapping and widening those smiles of theirs.


    It was refreshing, to be reminded and know in full that they were, in fact, human. These machines had hearts, and their veins pumped something close enough to blood to replace the red with blue and get away with it. The woman leaning over her she recognized as she looked into those soft brown eyes, noting the steely fangs and the soft, sorrow-laced quality of her own smile. Zofia leaned down and kissed EJ''s forehead, right where the bullet had made its entrance. It made EJ''s flesh come alight, but she pushed that thought aside for now.


    The nuns began to flash their eyes then, a great many LEDs indicating an even greater mass of messages being sent faster than thought. Angelien, the woman who had been injecting her with a leaden tincture, set the syringe aside and took one of EJ''s hands in her own. She gave the fellow blonde a nod, her own smile closed of lip and drenched in restrained emotion.


    No words were spoken aloud, but the room - an infirmary, Esper James figured - was filled with sound and motion for moments far exceeding a brief celebration. It took a great deal of minutes for the cacophony of it all to cease, though as it did, Esper James''s smile remained yet; if anything, it had been bolstered by the warmth of the atmosphere and air which surrounded her. The sea of habits parted after an interlude, and the mother abbess stepped forth from its absence.


    She drifted to EJ''s left side, the one opposite Angelien and Zofia, and took EJ''s other hand. The abbess leaned down, then, whispering a few words into EJ''s ear. The ghoulette couldn''t process their exact nature, the definition of those vocalizations which were bestowed, but she knew their intent: the mother abbess was happy to see Esper James awake and alive again. They had been scared for her; scared that she would sleep and never again know life.


    Of course! These Waywards knew nothing about the reanimation process, did they?! They knew that the second-living would, in theory, come back to life if slain without hateful ways. But their equipment, likely provided by the church itself, were designed purely for true-death. Fire bombs, acid capsules, silver powder and blades and bullets, electric projectors which would cauterize and de-animate flesh... They had never seen a corpse rise of its own volition. They had never known how it worked, and while the second-living didn''t really know the specifics either, the Easterners were only aware of it in its most vague of senses. It was more akin to a rumour than true fact.


    EJ smiled back up at the abbess; she felt her own lips move, saying something about her relief to be back, something to still any hearts which may yet be frantic. Zofia exclaimed eagerly, putting her ear to EJ''s chest in an approximation of a hug; Angelien squeezed EJ''s right hand, nodding again and shutting her eyes. The mother abbess smiled down at the blonde girl in the infirmary bed (oh! EJ noticed she was in a bed; better than the slab from earlier!) and nodded, too.


    Whereas EJ could think only of Purity and Esthrielle within her deathly dream-sleep, she could not even recall their existence at the present moment. She could only focus on the world immediately about her: the soft sheets and warm comforter which swaddled her, the plush pillow upon which her head was laid, and the soft blue of the wallpaper above white-tiled trim that coloured the infirmary walls. Fluorescent fixtures kept everything quite medically white, but that was fine; it was comforting, to know she had been looked after while more dead than she had been for a long, long while.


    More words. None of these landed; not a single one, no meaning imparted, drifting in one ear and straight out the other. She couldn''t even really tell who was speaking... it wasn''t Zofia, it wasn''t the mother abbess, it wasn''t Angelien. No nuns that she could see were moving their lips except to smile and laugh and rejoice, though even these things had begun to fade, and the crowd had begun a slow trickling out of the infirmary to give EJ some space.


    Either that, or they had something better to do. Frankly? It could have been either. There were certainly other things to be done, she was sure... the convent was shockingly large for such a place, really. A hidden stronghold for the very people who would see Vitus burn; and yet, it was so professionally built, so very well-maintained, so expansive...


    Those conjectures were for a future moment; for now, old moments would do. She couldn''t move her arms when she tried to return Zofia''s nearly-a-hug, but even the attempt filled Esper James with the warmth and comfort of returning the gesture. It satisfied her in the same way. More words from the mother abbess, these now directed to Zofia and Angelien; the women with brown and blonde hair, respectively, straightened their stances and made to leave. Zofia gave EJ a wave and a smile before stepping out the door.


    The abbess nodded once more to EJ, and made to leave as well. EJ vocalized something to her, some happy sound, as she left - it was returned by a wave from the matriarch, who slipped out the door without giving a chance to respond. And then... EJ was alone. Alone to recover... alone to linger in her joy, the joy of life. It felt good to be alive, to no longer be drifting in that ebon crypt where her soul had fled. Now that she was awake and alone, though, only one thing was on her mind; it came slowly, as thoughts do when in recovery, though it was of no less import for its tardiness.


    Where were her girlfriends? She wanted to kiss her girlfriends. Wow, it was so cool she had girlfriends.

 Act Four (Ch. 71) - A Catty Interlude: Frog Pot Fury

    Where the fuck was EJ?


    Esthrielle had, initially, been willing to let the little ghoulette wander. The second-living surely had to piss sometimes, right? They had bathrooms in, like, every building in Vitus, even ones that were only really frequented by the undead. All that blood had to go somewhere, obviously, so... Well, EJ telling her girlies how she had to use the washroom made plenty of sense. They had eaten before testing, and... Well, it had been some days since EJ had last mentioned anything of the sort, so...


    Well, Est hadn''t thought a damn thing of it. Why would she? Why would anyone second-guess their lover about saying they had to hit the bathroom real quick? Even thinking that to herself, she still couldn''t push down the rising tide of internalized self-loathing that lapped at her heart.


    How could Est have been so fucking stupid?! EJ... EJ was overly emotional, a little dumb, and way too caring. She meant well and did things with her heart, all the time, no matter what it was. Frankly, if they cut open her little blonde noggin and popped the top, just to find a twin to the drum buried in her breast, Esthrielle wouldn''t have fucking blinked at this point. And so... logically... if EJ was following her foolish, well-meaning heart like the act-don''t-think girlie she was, what would she have fucked off to do?


    A single glance down at Purity, who still lay snuggled closely to Est, her head laid atop the Wayward''s chest to make a pillow of foreign flesh? It told Est everything she needed to know. Esper James Price-motherfucking-Wynnfield was going back to the lab. Purity had been set to topple like a house of cards from the drowning scare; Est had, well... Zofi would be remembering the sensation of her arm''s disconnect alarms blaring unheeded for the next few decades, at least.


    Esthrielle''s LED irises swapped their focus down to her own hand, inspecting her own fucked up fingers. Rending a metal limb free of its housing wasn''t easy, and it had left damage on her as well, even as she inflicted such a brutal maiming. At least it wasn''t an organic limb, of course. The way that the lab had looked, with the observation area doused in that deep sea-green of spilled nutrifluid?


    Well, it was good that Zofi had only gone into shock from pseudo-bloodloss and activated her own inbuilt fail safes against exsanguination. Those fail safes included passing the fuck out, of course, but all it took was a split-second of browsing internal files for a solution to all the water in the room. A solution that Est had enacted in tandem with her own gut instinct: smashing the window with a thrown piece of lab equipment, the heaviest thing she could find that she could still heft without real difficulty.


    Eugh. Mistakes on everyone''s parts, then. Est didn''t think Zofia had intentionally drowned her girlfriend for kicks, or for study purposes, but in hindsight everything was 20/20. In the heat of the moment, her instincts - trained and natural both - had forced her to act, and she had acted in a way that she was frankly proud of. There''s a certain sort of pride that comes with fucking shit up in a simple act of devotion.


    Est snapped herself from her reminisce, slamming her eyes shut and screwing up her face in an attempt to shake thoughts of the lab from her brain. Seeing Esper James drown and hack and cough on water once was enough - Esthrielle didn''t know if she had the strength within her to live it again, even through the lens of a mentally archived moment. Quite frankly, that was something else Est was kicking herself about, for similar reasons. She had been so happy to let EJ do whatever she wanted, purely for the sake of comforting her, that Est had just let her and Purity''s little lamb wander into the lions'' den.


    The Wayward leaned down, going to plant one fine and gentle kiss upon Purity''s forehead. Her reward was a sleepy grumble one could potentially describe as ''cute'', and Est certainly thought so as well, but they had more pressing matters to attend to. No, not ''they'', not the both of them. Purity was unbelievably drained from the initial ''wow EJ just went through some kind of torture or something like that'' grief, anyways. Tracking down the pair''s shared lover, the girl with the golden hair, was gonna be a solo mission.


    "Purity, sweetie... I''ve gotta pee too. I''ll be back soon, okay? I promise you won''t miss out on anything fun or interesting." Est spoke softly and sweetly, despite the pressing nature of her selected mission. Purity just nodded and offered the other woman a squeeze, mumbling beneath her breath in a tone slow too low and a cadence too fast to really tell what she was saying. Attempting to say, anyways - Purity was nowhere near intelligible, the thoughts that her head once held secret and safe now so snuggled ''neath layers of mental earth to evoke a body in its tomb. Bodies and tombs were sitting, at least, or so Est thought.


    The Easterner slipped up and free, quickly throwing on her own habit and going to drift towards the door - she made extra careful to make as little sound as she could manage as she did, succeeding in some bastard child of a speed walk and an assassin''s hushed footfalls. She knew how to do one of those things very intimately, at the end of the day - though she never expected this sort of scenario to be where she put it into use.


    The doorknob was barely turned before she could hear feet outside. She had been pinging the convent''s comms channels to try and get some sort of word from anyone who had seen, heard from, or just generally interacted with the diminutive ditz. She had received a firm stonewall of any sort of information - apparently, no one had seen her, heard from her, or detected her heat signature nearby. It was like she had disappeared into the fucking sunset, and Est knew damn well that that was bullshit.


    They were hiding Esper James on purpose. As a punishment, for what Esthrielle had done to Zofia? Doubtful. No chance at all, really - not while Luca was here, at least. Frankly, Est could probably get away with murder while Luca was under the convent''s roof and get away with a slap on the wrist and an extra long session of penance with the mother abbess. And, the more she considered it? The more murder seemed to be an appropriate course of action.


    The mother abbess knew she had to do what was expected of her, right? Had to keep EJ and Est and Purity safe, or face repercussions from within the church itself, courtesy of the doge of Venice putting in a bad word about her? Ugh. That bitch was playing around with stupid internalized church politics, probably... trying to one-up Luca and Est by pretending she didn''t know where EJ was.


    Blech. Est turned the doorknob, going to swing the wooden slab with no small amount of force, yet carefully enough so as not to slam it against the exterior wall. As she did, she was met by a familiar, but not particularly pleasant, face. Pale to the point of seeming ill or sun-starved, wreathed in well cared for blonde locks, and given bright sapphire motes for eyes as the cherry on top... Angelien. Est nearly laughed with grim frustration as she saw the other woman, the only one in the entire convent who would have had the gall to confront the Italian firebrand.


    "Oooh... Hello, Esthrielle. Going somewhere?" Angelien''s tone and expression were deadpan - she may as well have been addressing a nearby wall, or piece of furniture. The dismal dialogue drove like a needle straight to Est''s nerves; that Angelien not only was obviously delaying her, but was also putting so little effort into the charade, was honestly insulting. If she hadn''t already accosted Zofia...


    Esthrielle allowed that thought to die in her mind''s womb. Angelien didn''t just have the gall to confront her, she had the prowess to actually put up a fight. They had all been through their training, yes... With guns, blades, hidden tools and single-use weaponry of varying forms... but Angelien, much in the same way as the unofficial Esippardi heiress, pursued it with a diligence many of the other women neglected to put forth. A heated brawl that would end with the both of them in the infirmary was one of the furthest things from what Est could afford.


    "Ange... Yes, just going to check on my girlfriend. The ghoul. Esper James. I do so very much yearn for the feeling of her teeth upon me once again... I simply must find where she''s wandered off to. She''s keeping Purity and me waiting, and we are so very needy." Est drew up every bit of bitter snark she could muster, molding it as verbal clay into the most pseudo-respectful, sarcasm-drenched epithet she could imagine. It would have been obvious to a newborn babe just how much venom was poured into those false words, simply from her outright avoidance of anything approaching tact or subtlety.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    Angelien sneered - jackpot. The blonde Dutchwoman was particularly monastic, and distinctly conservative; even the implication of homosexuality or debauchery, especially with an undesirable like a second-living, would ideally cause her skin to crawl. The blonde looked away briefly, sneer still plastered on her face with the adhesive of true distaste, but she steeled herself after a moment and made her response.


    "Oh? You and your little playmates were interrupted in a moment of lovemaking, hmm? You know, Esthrielle... perhaps it''s a sign, don''t you think? A return to the house of God, and hopefully, a return to his ideals. It has been a great deal of time since chastity was so strongly emphasized and demanded, however... perhaps mashing peaches on sacred ground isn''t the ideal way to spend one''s evening." Angelien''s sneer faded, melting into characteristic stoicism, then freezing anew into a positively glacial smile.


    Before Esthrielle could formulate a reply, Ange continued. "Besides... I understand that the living dead are quite resilient, but perhaps a woman drowned is not a woman who should be immediately made to drink, wouldn''t you say?" A wink. A gentle cock of the head, blonde hair made to waver from the motion. A self-assured heart set to renewed fury. Est was inches away from jumping Angelien, tackling her to the ground to force her to eat those words along with her teeth. She could feel her self-restraint being whittled down to a bare thread at the returned provocation, and by God, there was some strain on that thread.


    Esthrielle scowled, feeling false nails dig into false skin as each finger worked as one to form twin fists. If her hands were organic, their knuckles would have been white. "Ange, Ange, Ange... I know you''re just bitter. All this talk of celibacy, but we both know it for what it truly is, don''t we? Now - I know you know where Esper James is. Tell me. Now." That had better be the coup de grace that was demanded of her... otherwise, she saw no other option than to make her earlier treatment of Zofia look like playful, girlish roughhousing.


    Angelien''s smile only widened.


    "Oh? I''m bitter? Well, Esthrielle, thank you ever so much for telling me... I don''t think I would have been able to tell without your sage wisdom. Dear sister, you truly are knowledgeable - except when it comes to your so-called lover. Perhaps we should look into giving her a communications package, hm? Then she won''t have an excuse to ignore you..." Angelien chuckled, ever so softly and inoffensively, through tight lips.


    That was fucking it. To say, indirectly though it may have been, that EJ was ignoring her?! Est couldn''t deny that her rival''s words stung, especially in light of their recent maiden voyage as a throuple. Esthrielle still wasn''t really sure what to think of all that, really... she did care about Esper James and Purity. They were sweet. Kind. Caring. Loving. They... They helped her be a little more normal, helped her melt away some of her old habits and old thoughts from an old, painful time in her life. But...


    "Ahh, Esthrielle! Angelien! I couldn''t help but overhear that you two were here; I thought I would do well to stop by." God fucking damnit. Nine times out of ten, Esthrielle would have been thrilled to spend more time with her sibling-father-friend-guardian-mentor figure, but right now, hearing those velveteen, dulcet tones only exasperated her in a new, horrible way.


    Luca, then. He had just wrapped about the corner of a nearby hallway, the very one that Est would have otherwise proceeded down herself. Perhaps it was a sort of karmic irony? The two ladies put on their best, most respectable faces and stances at the doge''s approach, showing him the respect his presence demanded, and little more. He patted the air in a gesture of amusement, smiling wide and allowing ivory to flourish where once there had been naught but supple lips.


    "No, no! At ease, hahaha, at ease! Esthrielle, you know well that we are kin; I do not expect any deference from you. Angelien? I have heard your name come up in my discussions with the mother abbess. Mother Liliana has informed me full well of you and your status here; I shan''t expect you to show me any undue courtesy, either. Now, please... I must inquire..." Luca drifted closer, feet barely making a sound on the thick rug despite his footfalls.


    Esthrielle couldn''t stand any straighter than she was, regardless of her kin''s assurances. Angelien seemed like she may actually metamorphose into a singular vertical line with the effort she was putting into standing at attention, never one to be outdone; in direct disregard for Luca''s assertion that they could be ''at ease'', neither woman dared back down. He continued regardless, not really seeming to pay any mind.


    "Dearest sisters, why are you speaking aloud? Are your communications suites acting up? I know that Tsang has been looking into ways to disrupt them, but..." As he trailed away, his mouth sealed shut. No further words could, or would, be expected to pass them unless absolutely necessary. Both women heard him in their minds, though, information transferred at the formation of a thought and twice as expeditiously.


    [[...we are far too deep beneath city streets for electronic countermeasures to have any effect. So what, pray tell, are you doing? You''re both aware of the restriction on speech.]] His eyes, those gorgeous amber globes which were twice as pricy as the real thing, flickered and shimmered like the flame of a candle caught in a summer storm. The nobleman ceased his blinking, no longer devoting that mere modicum of focus onto resembling a true organic; eyes made of glass and rare earth minerals didn''t get dry, after all.


    A handful of seconds ticked away, neither woman wanting to reply first. In a normal conversation, this may have been a momentary lull - but when one could convey an entire conversation in a matter of seconds, without any explicit effort put forth towards doing so? It was more akin to an aeon. Esthrielle could only imagine this is what it would have been like to be a child, scolded by an elder for being naughty.


    Eventually, however, Luca''s kin-not-blood did find the nerve to reply first. [[Luca, I cannot find Esper James. I fear she may be doing something stupid, or foolish, or both. I am greatly concerned for her safety and wellbeing, because she can be the sort of woman who acts on pure instinct, while also overthinking to a phenomenal degree. As such, I would like to ensure her safety as immediately as possible. Do you know where she is?]]


    Angelien''s interruption was near-immediate, even in terms of digitized communiqu¨¦. That is to say, for the average person''s perception, she and Esthrielle would have spoken simultaneously. [[ Doge Esippardi, please. Sister Esthrielle has been quite rude and directly salacious towards me - implying that I held negative biases and emotions towards her and her lovers purely due to my own vow of chastity. This is, obviously, quite fallacious. I am ever so pleased that you arrived when you did, if only so I may have proof of her misdeeds...]]


    Luca didn''t waste time blinking, sure, but he couldn''t hold back the natural inclination to smirk - even grin - at these twinned admissions. He shook his head, shutting his eyes now to complete the expression of amusement and mild disbelief, but he didn''t bother to open them one again when he had finished the gesture.


    [[Sisters, please. You are both siblings in arms, and should not be quarreling so. I can understand, then, that you would have become vocal if only for the purpose of avoiding any observant flies on the walls from doing their work. Here - Esthrielle, you said Esper James is missing? Worry not, we have a woman posted at the only door. We will organize a sweep of the convent, scour it from top to bottom, and find her. Alright?]]


    Alright? It had to be fucking alright. Est released an enormous sigh of relief, her shoulders lowering as if the weight that had been lifted was instead yoked upon them. She broke her stony visage to smile with steely sharps up at her beloved sibling, giving him an emphatic nod, though it was not one he could see; her communications suite conveyed the emotion of the response even without visual accompaniment.


    Luca then directed his attention towards Angelien. [[Angelien, I understand that my sister''s tongue can get ahead of her mind in many cases. She has always been strong of will and temper; I am sure she didn''t mean it, she is simply distraught about recovering her beloved. Here; I will speak with her about her behavior. Please, be at ease, and be dismissed - go take a long, relaxing shower, or somesuch.]]


    Angelien, too, gave a nod. She turned on her heel and made to exit; Esthrielle rushed almost instantly to throw her arms about Luca, taking him in a great big hug, burying her face into the soft fabrics of his robe. The embrace was returned in kind, of course, Luca''s much stronger and higher-quality arms giving his little adoptive sister a squeeze. He opened his eyes once again, if only to look down at her. She had come so very far since their fist meeting... even since their first year as siblings, or as far as their third. Being in Vitus had, begrudgingly, been good for her.


    But he had to admit... she hadn''t grown smarter, or more cautious. It was bittersweet, seeing her agree to his plan so willingly. If only she could see the venom-drenched grin painted across Angelien''s face as she turned about and strode off... maybe then she would realize that things were often different than they seemed.


    Oh well. They had a search party to organize.

 Act Four (Ch. 72) - Things You See In a Graveyard; or, Little Big Death

    Complex thought returned soft and slow, a trickle as syrupy as grenadine and twice as red. She was in the convent infirmary. Her name was Esper James Price-Wynnfield, the James a mere vestige of a former life that she could never really bring herself to do away with. Her girlfriends, whom she adored beyond a shadow of a doubt, were here with her - in the sense that they were within the building, though perhaps not insofar as to be beside her at the moment.


    But where were they? She had been shot. She had been, momentarily, slain. She had, for that most brief moment, seen what it was like to die... known what it was to be nothing, to be forgotten - drifting about the void without care or direction, left without a sense of self, only a vague approximation of what had been. She had been left with dreams of love, at the very least. Love, and very little else.


    Was that what it was like? To die, for real? To truly meet one''s end? When her time eventually came - when Esper James went to the crematorium and told them her intent, and they laid her down in those great downy beds, and fed her the pills that made her sleep... Would she awaken to nothingness? That infinite black had been warm, she couldn''t deny... and yet, being here, among the living and semi-dead, was far more important. It was a more pressing matter than allowing herself to linger on the other side of the veil.


    She had two girlfriends she had to try and keep safe, after all.


    Try being the objective term here, of course. So far? All she had ever managed to do was get them in trouble; all she could muster was a luckless aura which sapped their fortunes, and allowed the three of them to venture forth as a singular unit into an awful, horrible fucking world. That was another thing, too, wasn''t it? She was tired of denying it, or dancing around it. Vitus was horrible. It was terrible and awful and mean and evil, so much as a city can be.


    And who''s to say it wasn''t sentient, in some twisted, cruel way? Who''s to say that the city of the dead wasn''t sapient in its own right, able to manipulate the lives of those who walked its streets and slept in its beds? Who was truly to say that a city couldn''t be alive? A hundred years ago, they would''ve said a corpse couldn''t be alive, either. They would say death was final. They would say that all that muck about vampires and ghouls and zombies was just superstition, that the sign of the cross and the holy silver of the hunters of old were mere paranoia.


    And yet, nowadays? It went without saying that silver prices had skyrocketed, if only because it was a globally-demanded commodity in munitions production. If war ever broke out again, the side without silver bullets would sure find the UNAC a bitch to match up against, at the end of the day.


    Esper James snapped from her dissociative hyperfixation to the sound of a knock on the door. Hardwood, just like the others... maybe she wasn''t in the lab, then? She hoped she wasn''t in the lab. Her teeth had only begun to re-grow, and the pain and itching soreness which came from new teeth coming in made her yearn to teeth... but it also reminded her of the bullet''s kiss, and what came before. She couldn''t help but laugh to herself, softly, as a bit of gallows humour came to mind.


    That bullet was the second time an older woman had penetrated her while she begged for it, heheh. Hah. Ha. EJ''s chest rose and shook, shoulders jostling about, mirth making her whole body quiver with guilty, grim delight. Oh, fuck. She wished Purity or Est were here to have heard that one; maybe they''d have thought it was funny. She''d tell them later...


    Oh, fuck. They didn''t know any of this. They didn''t know the mother abbess had shot her; they didn''t know that EJ had even gone out for more testing without their permission, did they?! Ohhhhhh fuck. A chill ran down EJ''s body, her head a sudden snowcap, and the meltwater which trickled down her neck and chest to the bottoms of her feet did her no favors. She was gonna have to face them, of course; no weaseling her way out of this, not that she would have even wanted to. What a fucking slap in the face that would be, for her to avoid them and try to hide from telling them.


    Blech. The knock came again, tearing her once again away from an overthought and overwrought mental avenue. Esper James fumbled with her own mouth to make the words - her tongue and jaw fought with tooth-remnants and unaligned joints to process her request, like a call center with far too much attention. Awkwardly, stumbling like a drunk, the syllables were drawn up and out of her mind''s mire. "Cohm en-n-n! Aihm awayke ''n stufhh!"


    The door was pushed open slowly, solemnly. Clean black for pant and tunic, with slippers of the same matte shadow... all of it laid overtop of caramel skin, with locks the same ebon tone as the cloth hanging from his head. Luca Esippardi, doge of Venice, pushed the door open with a single powerful arm; his other held a woman''s hand. The grip was tight, but not restrictive; it was offered for her benefit, not his.


    Behind the doge''s elegant, strapping physique walked a woman who wasn''t quite so tall, but was still sizeable in her own right, in all manners of the word. Her habit had been adjusted to better fit her luxurious curves, from bosom to hip to ass to thigh, all outlined in a way so tight as to be enticing but still modest enough to toe the line of ''pornographic''. Her eyes had been graciously, though perhaps disrespectfully given their current state, given some attendance with styluses of dark mascara and eyeliner. These, of course, had begun to run in such a way as to paint her cheeks.


    Purity held herself back from tears at the moment, yes, but it was obvious - even had the run-lines of inky sorrow which marred her cheeks not been present - that she had been crying. Quite a lot, it seemed. Her eyes were puffy and red in those places the makeup didn''t hide, though thankfully the ocular implants she had received kept the whites of her eyes from being the same hue of pinkish-red.


    She smiled when she saw Esper James laying in the infirmary bed, but it was a smile which had been laden with so much weight yet left unsaid. It hurt more than if she had just been crying, Esper James thought - if Purity had been crying, then yes, Esper James would have been deserving of it. It would have been every bit of punishment the blonde deserved for going off on her own and trying to spare them the pain they had knowingly signed up for. She had tried to save them from the whole of it; and yet, she had condemned them to something even worse.


    Behind Purity, holding her other hand, was Esthrielle. Contrary to Purity''s own sadness, Est looked caught between two different emotions: complete and utter exasperation, the kind that wears one down to the absolute nub of their patience, and a sort of fury which was passed through a thick padded mute so as not to lash out towards the object of said ire. EJ knew damn well just who Est was mad at, or so she figured; the Italian''s expression barely changed when she saw EJ, though she did put on her best attempt at a smile. That, too, drove a knife into EJ''s tender little heart.


    Est made damn well sure that the door closed behind the three of them as they entered. The trio approached EJ''s bed slowly and steadily, making sure not to startle or rush her - until, of course, they were about halfway there. Then, Esthrielle broke formation to rush the bed-bound ghoulette. Luca''s eyes flashed and Purity went to say something, mouth opening in a gentle O but never finding the words to make; neither of them stopped Est as she stomped to the laid-up ghoul.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    "Esper fucking James, I-...!" Est put one hand around EJ''s throat as she reached the bed, her other hand balled into a fist - one that saw itself raised like a spiteful comet, glorious and avenging, aimed to crash down and send EJ back to the dream-sleep she had just escaped. When it came down, however, it landed ineffectually into the wide downy pillow that the blonde''s head was rested upon. Est''s white-knuckle grip on EJ''s windpipe collapsed immediately, and Esthrielle did too - falling about herself and all about EJ, her seething, bubbling rage pouring out of the floodgates and dripping to the floor.


    The duo whom yet remained in the center of the room rushed over as well, Purity leading Luca, a fresh wave of tears streaming down her face to ruin her makeup just that much more. Est sobbed and howled and grit her teeth and punched the side of the bed EJ was lain within, letting out a flow of emotional debris so tumultuous it could''ve been the dregs left in a tsunami''s wake. It was brutal, sharp, and full of shards of broken glass.


    EJ couldn''t say anything, just smile at the others because that''s all she could fucking bring herself to do. If she cried now? She''d let them down that much more, she figured. If she cried, and begged, and pled for forgiveness or amnesty or even lenience, she wouldn''t learn anything. She wouldn''t have changed at all. She''d just be a leech, a fucking blight on the women she loved, just doing whatever she felt like or wanted and not being able to own up to the consequences when they inevitably came.


    Fuck. It was hard not to cry, you know? But the best she could offer without breaking down was an arm around both of them, gathering Purity in to lean down and form a little clump of sapphic sadness on that soft infirmary bed. EJ''s head was the only woman''s which was free from the pile of pity which the m¨¦nage au trois had formed; she looked up to Luca, who had not, who could not, join in on the hug.


    He offered her a tight, reluctant smile in response. There were so many things he wished he could say to her in that moment, really; so very many, both with his voice and with his heart, body and soul. EJ''s actions had been... well, there were multiple interpretations, really. For one? It was sacrificial. Martyrdom, in a sense. She had seen how Purity and Est had suffered from earlier testing, and... well, she had decided to take matters into her own hands. She had returned of her own bravery, and her own volition, in an ill-conceived attempt to save them some pain.


    But. Of course, there was another way to see it all. Instead of being some sort of sacrificial offering, some lamb to the slaughter given to save them from the agony of it all? It had been some distorted sense of selfishness and pride, really. A greedy emotion, a self-important way of doing and seeing things, in some twisted attempt at saving herself from the heartbreak. She had seen Purity and Est struggling with their emotions in the wake of her near-drowning, and so, unable to deal with it herself?


    She had fled. She had opted to continue testing, without notifying them or even giving them a say in the matter, if only so that she herself didn''t need to deal with their opinions and reactions to it. They had agreed to accompany her, knowing full well the sort of grief it may cause... they were her lovers, whom trusted her implicitly, and whom loved her without question. Or, well, Luca wasn''t so sure on that last part, but it was the most likely case, wasn''t it?


    And so, Esper James had broken their trust. She had completely ruined their faith in her, in a self serving bid for comfort wherein her only goal was to avoid needing to deal with their grief. She knew she would be fine regardless of what happened; she was a second-living, and while death was scary, it was far from the first time she had died. It had to be, Luca figured - she was literally a dead girl walking, right? She had to have died at least once.


    Luca sighed, breaking his shared glance with Esper James; Esper James then looked down at her lap and torso, where two sobbing women let their internal turmoil roil and bob and simmer and boil until it started to steam off. In the meantime, she did the only thing she could think to: no longer smiling, because there were none to see such a fake smile, she leaned down to rest her head between her lovers''.


    The response wasn''t instant, but it was forceful when it came. Est''s spare hand, the one which had been putting marks on the side of the wooden bed where Esper James was placed, went up to throw itself about EJ''s blonde head to pull her in tightly. Purity''s opposite hand, too, went up and around to Esper James''s back, holding her as best the weeping pinkette could manage given their position. The three of them stayed like this for seconds which grew into minutes, which blossomed into a full hour by time they really moved from their entanglement.


    Est''s head raised first - her eyes, similarly saved from the wake of sorrow by their mechanical nature, locked dead upon Esper James''s own. Her lips twitched as she struggled to form words, but they did start to roll forth after some brief delay so that their utterance was not hindered by any sort of doubt.


    "Esper fucking James, Price-God-Damn-Wynnfield. I... You... You have really fucked up this time, you know? I''m sorry there''s no kinder way for me to say it, but... EJ. We love you. We signed up for this. We signed up to be with you through all the bullshit. You and I have been through some awful shit, right? And yet..." Est''s stern expression broke for a moment as she struggled against a new wave of tears, but she blinked it away and steeled herself to continue anew. EJ couldn''t help but feel the tears gathering at the corners of her own eyes, blinking them away as best she could.


    "We...! We are here for you, you dumb little bitch, and yet you...! You can''t leave us out in the cold! Y-You can''t just...! You can''t just, s-say ''fuck what Est and Puri think'', and just go put yourself in danger like that. I shouldn''t... I shouldn''t even have to tell you this. You got shot in the fucking head. They had to kill you. Do you know what that''s like for us? The women you say you love?" Est couldn''t fight the tears any further, but she could grimace and keep her eyes mostly focused on the ghoulette as she continued her scolding.


    "It''s awful! It''s fucking awful! Imagine that I had gone out and got my ass kicked and came back in the same shape as when we... When we met in the factory. You''d feel like shit, right?! You''d wish you could''ve done something, anything, to be there and prevent it! A-A-And... And... I, we, w-we..." And that was right where the locomotive of righteous indignance ran all the fucking way out of steam, and just spun its wheels upon the rails. Esthrielle collapsed anew, face burying itself hard into EJ''s chest, dampening the comforter and sheets almost immediately with a rain of hot, passionate tears.


    EJ knew damn well what Est was saying, beneath it all. It was a scolding, and one she deserved... though, it was also an admission of emotion, of a great many emotions at that. When Est spoke of what EJ would have felt? It didn''t take a psychoanalyst to know what she meant. Est had been... broken by it, broken in a new and awful way. There was nothing that could compare, having a new love and joy introduced into her life after so many years of grief and plight, and then having them die practically off-screen?


    Fuck.


    It drove a solid iron stake into Esper James''s sternum to consider, even briefly. She couldn''t say anything, but she could keep herself from bawling outright, if only for the benefit of Purity and Esthrielle. She turned, then, to Purity.. Sweet, loving Purity. Esper James felt her heart swell with both sorrow and adoration as she regarded the dancefloor darling, wishing she could bury herself away within Puri''s arms and breasts and just fall asleep, and hopefully when she awoke, the three of them would be happy again. It was an idle fantasy, sure, but a girl could dream, couldn''t she?


    Oh, what she wouldn''t have given just to be at peace with them - especially now, when they were both rightfully very broken up with her. God, how she had fucked up. Everything was worse - because of her, because of Esper James. Everything was worse. Her eyes flashed to Purity''s chest, the longing renewed instantly, just to get to snuggle at all now...


    Well, it would have to remain a dream. Purity slowly lifted her head to look at EJ, and when they locked eyes, the pinkette''s irises flashed and flickered - LEDs forming the pink heart iris they often did when making love. However, the image wavered visibly as if it was taking great effort to hold onto; and after a moment of struggle, a crack formed down the center of each. Purity''s soft lips moved gently, but despite gentle motion, they could very well have been EJ''s third death as the words formed.


    "Esper J-James... E-EJ... I thought we were, uh, g-gonna be honest with each other from n-now on, right? I... I thought..."

 Act Four (Ch. 73) - Sword of Damocles; or, Growth and Withering

    Esper James''s heart was the glass remnant of a fallen champagne flute, fractured to pieces then ground to shards by an errant foot.


    Purity, of course, was right. How could she have been anything other than right? How could EJ have refuted such an irrefutable claim? They had spoken of honesty - honesty between one another, honesty in all things, especially things pertaining to one another''s fates. Purity had sinned, and was still trying to make amends even now - and Esper James had thought, not so very long ago at all - of her anger towards Purity for what she had done.


    And yet, now, they were both awful to one another. There was still love, there could never be an absence of that love, EJ begrudgingly figured... but a love that held the taint of rot and sickness was oftentimes more painful than the absence of any affection at all. There are, of course, those who would believe otherwise; those who would believe that any love is better than no love at all. EJ had thought so, too, long before she had felt what it was to be known... truly known, by one who would call herself EJ''s partner.


    You never know what you''ve got, till it''s gone - and you never know what you don''t have, till you have it.


    EJ sighed, but the sigh was caught on the latter half by the whipping, cruel winds of emotion; her voice''s sails were set to flutter, the tone warbling and sorrow creeping in like winter frost. Soon, she was crying, joining her lovers in their display of raw, salted emotion. It hurt... it hurt so fucking bad, to know that she was the reason any of this was even happening.


    Old daggers returned in her mindscape to stab at her once again, piercing EJ between the ribs and through the soft spots of her heart. The daggers took the shape of old doubts and self-loathing - wondering why she was even with Purity and Est, when they would be better off without her; wondering why she even met them in the first place, if all she could really do is make things worse for them.


    The thought paths were not unknown. In fact, they were as oft-walked and familiar to her as the forest trails to a seasoned ranger, or the migratory paths to a long-lived deer. In a sense, that brought comfort... though the comfort only came in the sense that she knew what she was feeling, not to the degree of being able to do anything about it.


    Do anything about it? Fuck, was she truly so awful that she began to feel poorly for herself, and her only instinct was to ''do something about it''? Maybe she should just tell Purity to lift her shirt, eh? Or have Est bend down and expose herself? Those seemed to be vogue ways for Esper James to clear her own conscience of doubt and worry recently. Little degenerate wannabe hedonist that she was, little... little fucking pervert, fucking deviant, taking such gross, disgusting pleasure and solace in the bodies of others.


    They said ghouls were failed vampires, right? Ever so close to sanguine superiority, yet denied perfection by a fly in the ointment? Ascension prevented by the world''s cruelest deus ex machina, some factor so rare yet so undeniable that it would prevent them from being what others could only dream of? Well, they must have been telling the fucking truth, EJ thought... because right now? She was feeling very much like a vampire. She felt like what she thought of Judas.


    Disgusting.


    EJ had been staring into Purity''s eyes, watching her cry and ripping herself apart the whole time, but time had slipped away from her. Her dissociation was getting worse, she thought for the briefest of moments, before a new wave of her own tears stole her sight. She blinked hard to try and squeeze the saline sorrow from her ducts, but all that came was the first rain of a fresh summer storm.


    Luca drifted away. He made no sound, no indication nor gesture, to announce his departure; EJ only noticed that he was even leaving because she could fucking see him open and close the door when again her eyes were opened. Whatever; it was probably for the best that he wasn''t around to see this. EJ gave her ladies a great squeeze, though great only in the sense that it was forceful and insistent; as for quality, it could only be middling at best. She wasn''t stable enough to give a good hug, just a passionate one.


    The squeeze was returned by her partners. Purity''s arms were gentlest of the three parties'', but she was plenty loving and wracked with sorrow. It was an excusable thing, that she wouldn''t crush Est or EJ like an industrial vice. Esthrielle, by contrast, was the steely gauntlet to Purity''s velvet glove. Purity exclaimed in surprise, mild pain, and the slightest bit of confused excitement as her back cracked from Est''s loving ministrations; EJ only continued to cry, the force of Est''s embrace far too much for EJ to simply take without it dredging emotions from her heart''s lake. To have hurt her so badly, and still receive such passion? Such gusto? Such enthusiasm?


    EJ couldn''t help but feel she didn''t deserve the intensity of it all. She didn''t deserve Est or Purity; she didn''t deserve this convent, didn''t deserve Luca''s protection, didn''t deserve Zofia''s tears for her own injuries or the mother abbess''s mercy or words of comfort. She didn''t even deserve Judas''s cruelty at this point; not the cruelty which was at least painted in a fun way, you know? She certainly deserved the abuse... but not the fun abuse.


    EJ finally found the words to speak, her lower jaw wobbling like the tremolo of some musician''s tool. It was hard to speak, but speak she did - for she needed to speak, she had to speak, because speech was the only bandage she could offer for the gashes she had opened on them all.


    "I-I-I... I''m s-sorry, I''m so fucking s-s-sorry, you two... I... I f-fucked up! I fu-hu-hucked up, ok?! I admit it! I fucked up so b-badly, so very fucking badly, and now we''re all f-fucked up because of me fucking up! I did something so fucking stupid I fucked everything and now you both have every f-fucking right to hate me!" Once she had finished her bid for most usages of ''fuck'' in a single thought, she collapsed even further into her own melancholy and self-hatred.


    Est''s face rose up from where it was buried into the covers, now inches away from Esper James''s; her brows were furrowed with fury and indignance, but her eyes were a melting pot of sadness and pain to be fondue for that rage. She sneered, and growled, and grimaced, and fought with herself like some brave warrior of old to try and get out the words to form her thought. Eventually, the dragon was slain - syllables flowed, and sympathy alongside.


    "Shut up, EJ! Esper fucking James, you-! Don''t you ever let me hear you f-fucking talk about yourself like that again, okay?! That''s what got us here! That...! That self-pity! That self-loathing! That dejected, sadgirl, woe-is-me attitude! Wake th-the fuck up and look around yourself!" Before EJ could respond, Est pulled her face back - and slapped EJ, hard, across the cheek. It made a spectacular smacking sound, one that resonated ever so briefly about the fairly empty infirmary.


    EJ reeled from the pain, bones all okay but a bruise already beginning to form. Her vision blurred for a moment for a reason other than the tears which blotted her eyes, though the stun from the blow was enough to bury her depressive musings beneath a mound of hazed mental faculties. Once she began to blink and really look like she was awake and aware again, Est continued.


    "We love you, you perfect b-blonde idiot! You...! You are a wonderful person, an amazing human being whose heart I treasure taking partial ownership of... I... I-I... I love you, EJ. P-Please, please, stop... Stop thinking of yourself as a burden, okay? W-We know what we signed up for. We''re... We''re all in this together, you know?" Her tone faded from raw, untamed aggression down to the whimpering mewls of a kitten as she trudged through verbal sludge. Est tried to finish strong, but her strong finish was more akin to the pathetic whines of a newborn fawn or pup, innocent and vulnerable and begging to be protected.


    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    EJ nodded, after a moment - a moment which was drawn out, it seemed, in her mind''s eye. She was still reeling and swaying a bit, but she was just aware enough to know that nodding was the correct thing to do in that moment. She had to affirm that Est was correct... and then, as she focused every bit of herself on processing what Est had even said, she felt a strange flower grow, bud, and bloom in her chest.


    Est was right, wasn''t she? Est was so fucking smart. So very very very smart. EJ needed to learn to be... to be better to herself. To be better for herself. Est and Purity were strong women; they weren''t little lost lambs like the blonde was. They knew how to put their own plans and ambitions into action; they would do what was best for them and those they cared about, because that''s the sort of people they were. So. Why would they stay with EJ if Esper James was bad for them?


    Oh, shit. EJ had never actually... never actually considered that before, had she? She had always been seeing everything through the lenses of her own experience - that everyone was secretly a submissive, sulky, deferential little girl, deep down. Everyone that liked her, at least. Everyone that she liked, too, that was nice to her.


    Maybe that was a self-deprecation thing too, then. Imagining, or assuming, rather, that everyone and anyone who was nice to her was secretly just as lost and tender as she was. The assumption of weakness simply through the absence of dominance and greed. All she had known for almost all of her time on earth, of course, was dominance and oppression being the hallmarks of someone with power. Vitus wasn''t exactly a breeding ground for philanthropists, or even decent, kind people. Why would she believe the world to work any differently?


    But Est... Est was right. She was so very right, and Esper James only held back from beating herself up even further by the virtue of what Est had literally just said about that sort of behavior. She had to stop thinking of herself as a burden... had to stop thinking of herself as some sort of lead weight that held others down, that held others back. Est and Purity would leave if they didn''t like her. She was expendable, if it came down to it. And so, perhaps the best plan was to simply continue on and trudge forth until such a time came as she was spent. Being cast off like a single-use razor or the wrapper of some gummy candy was better than being held like a thorny rose in-palm, right?


    Right.


    EJ nodded more emphatically now, finding words of her own which sprung up like the teeth which had almost finished settling in her own gumline. "You''re... You''re right, Est. I''m sorry. I''m so fucking sorry for messing this all up, and making the two of you worry, a-and hurting you both so deeply. I... I should trust you both more, to tell you when... Tell you when I need to stop, or tell me when you''ve had enough. It was...awful of me to go off and do all that without telling you. I... I shouldn''t have lied to you."


    She swallowed, then, and it was like trying to choke down a mouthful of superglue. It stuck and clung to her throat with the viscosity of honey and twice the thickness, a lump of coal coated in phlegm, a cannonball slathered with molasses. What she was swallowing, in that moment, was her own emotions - her own pain, she''d liked to have thought.


    Not that she was without pain, but rather, that her own pain wouldn''t... wouldn''t affect how she interacted with her lovers. She wouldn''t let it dominate her mind anymore, because she had seen all too intimately what one''s own greed and pain could do when it trickled its cruel influence into one''s treatment of those they loved. It could turn you into a monster; Esper James knew that she didn''t want to be that monster ever again. She never wanted to hurt Purity or Esthrielle like this, ever, ever.


    She forced herself to admit, in her heart and her cortex, that she wasn''t abandoning it all completely. She wouldn''t become cruel and unfeeling. She wouldn''t hide her own emotions away from herself, or ignore them, or deny them. But she wouldn''t let her own thoughts and feelings about herself taint the way she felt about those whom were closest to her. She''d never let this all happen again.


    Est''s jaw dropped more than slightly, and her eyes went wide - a fresh wave of tears formed as morning dew at the corners of either eye, and those very same tears fell hot and fast as their respective eyes shut. Est threw herself, then, into Esper James: her arms wrapped about the ghoulette, squeezing her nearly hard enough to cause even more bodily harm. The embrace (if one could call the crushing contact that) was more akin to an ill-thought-of attempt to press two bodies into one single being, or to sieve one torso through the other.


    They two women fell onto the bed properly then, Esthrielle laying overtop of EJ, snuggling her so close and tight that a boa constrictor would be green with envy at her constrictive power. Purity, meanwhile, let her lips wobble from a distraught expression of grief up into a tenuous, pain-wracked smile, relief and delight rushing in. She threw herself atop the other two girls, then, and suddenly they were a lesbian sandwich. It was pretty cute. Objectively so, even.


    And there they laid, bodies atop bodies atop cloth and comfort and pillow and plush. The infirmary was not disturbed at all in the hours that came to pass; the silent laying eventually transitioned to a group snuggling, each woman taking their place in this new bed. EJ didn''t really need to stay in the infirmary anymore; she was healed, her regenerative factor more than enough to seal her wounds and fix her face, but... Well, when in Rome, right?


    Hmm. Est was Italian. That was close enough to being ''in Rome'', one could figure, right?


    Ha-ha. Lascivious commentary about being ''in Rome'' aside, they remained there as if mice caught in a glue trap - though they were far from uncomfortable. Malaise had long since faded, and now, it was just another place for them to snuggle up and be together. Just another place for them to share in one another''s warmth and softness, and to hold and be held in turn.


    Time''s passage was cruel, of course, and there did come a point wherein they felt they needed to go back to their room. And so, up the bodies came, the habits were re-donned and brushed free of dust and dirt, and the girlies made their trek back to their dormitory. The shared room was exactly where they left it, and was completely undisturbed, it seemed. EJ thought hard as they walked, thought about what it had been like for the two other women to learn that Esper James had been shot. Had they been laying down, at least, when they heard the news?


    She hoped they hadn''t been doing something. The visual of a busy Purity, doing some exercises in the dormitory, then being informed EJ had been killed? Her legs buckling without delay, whole body giving out as the shock and grief and despair of the situation hit her with the force of a dozen-dozen tonnes of bricks, carried by a loose locomotive? The crying? The deep, guttural, primal sobbing, the ones that came ragged and painful from the raw emotion they forced up and out?


    And Est? Est was... stronger. Not so strong as to be denied grief, nor pain... but strong enough that she wouldn''t have fallen in onto herself, Esper James figured. She wouldn''t have collapsed, at least... or, she wouldn''t have at first. But she thought then to their first night together, the... the way Est had acted. The fear, the hesitance, the walls of her heart''s fortress visibly being torn down with every word of love and reassurance she had been offered?


    Est wouldn''t have taken it well. There''s no way she could have. These thoughts were naught but more fuel to Esper James''s fire to ensure she never hurt them like this again, no... no matter what. No matter what she did, no matter what came of it, no matter what happened to her... She could never hurt her lovers like this ever again. She would rather die before she did.


    A grim smile came to her lips as she sat on the bed, expression now tinged with wry self-satisfaction. She would rather die, hmm? Well, she had already died... twice now, right? What was one more death, if for their sake? For their sake in a newer, better way, she reminded herself... She had already tried to be a martyr once before, and now look where that had gotten her, eh? Gotten all three of them.


    Whatever. Dark thoughts for  a different time. She shook her head free of them, going to strip her medical gown away (it would have been hard to justify keeping her in her habit during her recovery, she figured) and slip into the bed the three had been sharing. Est came along then after a moment, snuggling their bodies up flush to one another, kissing at EJ''s neck and then cheek in quick, amorous succession.


    Purity made to join them after a moment, but before she did, she snuck her phone out from where she had been keeping it hidden in the wardrobe. Lots of messages, it seemed... lots to pore through. So very much attention was demanded of her, even now, but it wasn''t so pressing as to be tended to on a daily basis as it had been before, when Tsang held her leash. But, still, it would be good for her - and for EJ and Est - to keep themselves abreast of happenings on the outside.


    Kehler Complex was gone - an explosion, and a fire, it seemed. Terrorists again. One of them had been caught, however... and Executive of Biomedical Development, Judas Alighieri, was set to give a public statement on Wednesday. Purity couldn''t help but wonder what that evil, cruel woman would have to say about it... and if it would be a live execution. Judas had always seemed the sort for a live execution, Purity figured.


    The article was capped off with an image of Judas standing in her office, looking smug and sadistic, with a green-haired girl put to her knees beside the vampire. A chain leash was held in Judas''s left hand, leading down to a thick leather collar. Puri didn''t recognize the girl; EJ would have, but EJ didn''t see the article. She was too busy trading sweet, loving kisses with Est.


    Oh well.

 Act Four (Ch. 74) - A Rapid Interlude: Its Not Easy Having a Good Time

    Judas spit onto the concrete - grinding it in, then, with the tip of her black leather boots.


    Fuckers. Fucking fuck fuckers. She felt like she was losing some of her eloquence for even having been embroiled in all this... for even having reached such an apex of power and influence, she was being stripped of some of what made her, well, her. A quick glance down at the girl by her side, whose neon green hair had been shorn on one side to better display her tattoo, empowered the vampiress. With a jerk of her chain, the woman''s face snapped to look up at Judas - even now, the bruises had barely yet begun to fade, her right eye and throat in particular quite dark.


    They were in a tent - a makeshift little planning area, a refuge from the storm of sound and the sea of bodies which lay just ten or so feet outside the tent''s main egress. There was to be a public address today - and while half of the people who had even showed up to attend were Tsang patsies, to stuff the plaza and ensure that it seemed a huge turnout... Well, the other half were normal, unaffiliated citizenry. That was enough to demand some semblance of surety from Judas.


    She looked down at her new pet with a look of disdain mingling with delight - as if she''d found a wretched beast, but a wretched beast had been her goal to find. Her right hand held the leash, a long steel coil which sat nearly completely wrapped about her fingers; her left hand was free, and used its freedom to go down and offer comfort to the creature with green hair.


    White-clad fingers brushed tenderly at the bruised cheek, the leather of their covering so very soft yet so very supple. Judas''s captive whimpered, not yet with the need and lust and yearning for attention that Judas hoped to inspire... but perhaps the last beating had been too recent. She needed time to settle at the bottom before Judas could drag her up out of the muck, it seemed - and that was just fine for the vampire. Vivica was only here as a trophy, anyways - at least, mostly. There was one task which was demanded of the rebel.


    But that could, and would, wait. Judas continued to caress and stroke, trying to steel herself up for the address - in her palm, her plaything whined and mewled like a beaten dog desperate for affection. The truth wasn''t so dissimilar to the fiction, in that sense... Judas had worn white gloves to better contrast any blood, so she could lick it off. Vivica wasn''t a bleeder, though, so it had only been for show.


    The tent was sparsely decorated, filled with amenities which the sanguine superior had demanded - never something so servile as requested. A cooler of bottled blood, mixed on-site with anticoagulants and ginger beer... A plate of tataki, freshly prepared and even more freshly presented, with a side of soy sauce and tamago gohan riddled with scallions and dashes of ponzu (this all sat nearly completely devoured)... A fresh scalpel, and some tools for stitching, and gauze.


    Oh, and of course, the luxurious easy chair Judas had ordered some poor unfortunate to haul all the way from the sixty-eighth floor of Tsang Tower down here, to the plaza below. Poor fucking bastard... she had made him take the stairs, too, or at least threatened him with punitive action should he take the elevator.


    Judas had destroyed the raw egg and beef presentation, halfway simply to inspire fear into Vivica - hell, she''d even forced Vene to eat some of the tataki. Seeing her gag and choke on uncooked beef, even despite Judas''s assurances that it was safe to eat... Well, that had borne the casus belli for the beating, but in honest? Judas thought it was adorable, seeing some worthless fucking first-living nearly vomit trying to broach a little sliver of uncooked cow and soy. She''d also made the ''promise'' to Vene that, if the public address fell through and ratings were poor? The green-haired girlthing could look forward to guzzling down a bottle of carbonated blood.


    Vene had nearly puked.


    A Public Relations representative pushed through the back flaps of the tent, holding papers and a manila folder in his left hand, and a cigarette in his right. It had been all this time, so very long, and people still smoked... though at least Tsang had nixed much of the chemical additives. It was still bad for you, but wasn''t so tar-filled and asbestos-laden as it had once been. A lot of Tsang execs liked to smoke; couldn''t poison themselves, right?


    "Miss Alighieri... the people wait eagerly for your address. Mister Tsang himself will be watching the address, I''ve been told to inform you... he says he has high hopes for you, and for the results of this event." The PR official nodded quickly, his brown hair shifting ever so slightly in the self-made wind of his vigor. Business people had returned to the conservative styles of slicked, gelled hair, mostly... if only because it made it easier to deal with, when one had a long day of other bullshit on their plate.


    Judas''s lips split like a gaping, horrid wound coming free of its scab - a smile, then, and a display of great white pillars that were plated in light-catching gold. Judas had even considered that she may get diamonds in them if this goes well... or perhaps a tongue stud? Those had always seemed gaudy to her, too kitschy, too whorish... But, after careful thought and consideration?


    A diamond spike which sat near the tip of her tongue, to press hard into a lover''s tender flesh like a third fang, may be exactly what she wanted. It sure would get some interesting sounds of out Vivica, at the very least... or Blackjack, if she ever planned to make good on her flirtations with him. Or, even moreso, it would get some thrilling responses from the chaff which Judas''s body sifted through in her boredom - those men and women who spent time lingering about streetlights and alleyways, only to get picked up in a sleek black limousine. Judas couldn''t help herself; she was a woman with needs! A great many needs, in fact, nearly all of them parasitic... stealing joy and life from others.


    Enough of that. She didn''t need to rev her own engine before going out in a public capacity... she could make Vivica do that later, if she really wanted. That wasn''t a bad idea, she thought, considering it briefly... Come back in after a successful public address, pop open one of those bottles of blood, and lean back to relax while Vene buries her face into vampiric loins. A great end to what could be a great day.


    Oh, fuck, that PR rep was still here, wasn''t he?


    Judas blinked once, twice, thrice, realizing she''d never even addressed the man who now stood awkwardly, twiddling his thumbs, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. Her smile had neither waxed nor waned; it had formed, and stayed plastered there about her lips like a beam of moonlight through a clouded sky. Fuck.


    "Hm-m-m~? Yes, thank you, excellent. You''re dismissed. I... actually. Report to my personal mortician; let him know I''m in a certain sort of mood. The usual amendments. And yes, I do want it bigger this time. Don''t ask - he''ll know what I mean, just tell him that. Okay? Then, get yourself a drink at the company lounge, and put it on my tab. Yes, yes, before you say anything..." She giggled to herself, ever so near to being an outright cackle, but not nearly so visibly malicious... yet, anyways. She was feeling too benevolent to seem outright villainous.


    The representative blinked at her, waiting for the finish of what was already a bewildering epithet. It didn''t take much of an imagination, looking at Judas and the captive at her side, to puzzle out what she was discussing. The rich and powerful went to their personal morticians regularly, amending and adjusting their appearances in ways both large and small. Tsang''s mastery of biotechnology had made such things... well, more than viable, of course. And for Judas? Cost was of no consequence.


    "...my tab. Buy as many drinks as you''d like, in fact. Buy the whole bar if it takes you, hm? Drown yourself in liquor until you can''t feel your own face. This is the start of something new, and you''d do very well to let your little lackeys know that Tsang is even closer to its goals than ever before. Now - go. Get the fuck out of my sight. Do what I told you to."


    And with that, her long-winded monologue was completed. It was easy to speak at length when none in attendance dared object or even interrupt, and so... Well, Judas had gotten into the bad habit of just letting her lips run, when the mood took her. It often did, though not without just cause. ''Just'' being ''her own gratification'', though, so it was a bit up in the air.


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    She pushed herself to a stand, hand drawn away from Vivica''s face to put her palm to the arm of the easy chair. She was wearing the same thing she wore nearly every work day, a timeless sense of style and class coming along with: the black pinstripe suit and pants, the red button-up blouse beneath, the black tie and boots... The white gloves were new, but they were temporary. And, to cap it all off, the silver cross which had long since scarred her chest - just between her collarbones, a Saint Peter''s cross sat burned eternally into her half-dead flesh.


    Long black hair fell in silken waves from her head, and the mild cinnamon of her skin caught the light just right. God, she was hot - or so she thought to herself, catching a glimpse of herself in the shiny black exterior of the cooler. "Come, pet... No, not cum, come. C''mon, we''ve got a public to address." Another jerk of the chain, bodily dragging Vivica across the concrete a few inches. This, of course, scraped at her hands, and made her yelp in pain. Judas couldn''t have cared less.


    Step by step, the shortest march... many stones may build an arch, but singly? Singly, one could smash a window. And right now, Judas was hoping to shatter Vitus''s dissenters'' window into a million million pieces. Out of the tent she went, Vivica struggling to keep pace on all fours with scraped, bloodied palms. Out of the tent and... into the light.


    The light, that was, of the midnight suns of floodlights and flashbulbs. Judas held her back high and straight as she proceeded as coolly and languidly as she dared towards the raised platform and the podium which sat atop it, each assembled on-site by Tsang labourers contracted from an IRE site. She could trust that it would hold her and was well-built, of course; after all, those IRE scum knew what would happen if it wasn''t.


    The podium, then. Judas stared out into a sea of faces, and was shocked to see that there were a fair bit more average citizens present than initial estimates had predicted. So many forms jostled and jockeyed for position that they had begun to clog nearby streets... Some storefronts had been smashed, if only so that onlookers could stand in open windows to watch the proceedings; some people had even climbed street lamps and traffic lights, sitting atop them or hanging from their steely frames.


    Wow. That only fueled Judas''s vile ego that much further, a swelling in her blackened heart nearly setting it primed to burst. She looked down to Vivica with a cruelty now flecking her smile like cinders from a housefire; a black boot wound back before introducing itself to the captive''s midsection, sending her to the stage''s floor with a cry, and no longer letting her hide behind Judas or the podium. The crowd cheered.


    Judas took the microphone while Vivica whimpered and wept and wordlessly begged for mercy. The vampiress leaned forwards, clearing her throat before beginning. "Hello, Vitus. My name is Judas Alighieri... and I am here, speaking to you, as a representative of Tsang Solutions as a whole. Please, make some noise."


    Noise was made quickly, and in the extreme. The people cheered so very loud, so very emphatically, so fanatically... her words, simple as they were, carried across the crowd like the incensing sermon of a cult leader. They set all present to frenzy - because, if Tsang spoke, they would do damn well to listen. In all things this was true... but Judas, as powerful as she was, rarely made public addresses. Normally it was some Poindexter in a stiff suit with a stick up their ass, speaking with clinical precision and restraint. Judas being here meant something new, something different... and her confidence meant it had to be something good, right? Good for Vitus. Good for everyone.


    Judas waited for the crowd''s raucous din to subside somewhat before she began again, feeling that warmest of glows radiate off of them to kiss every inch of her skin, like a turkey basted in succulent juice. "Thank you, everyone! Thank you, thank you, for your..." She nearly slipped up and said ''obedience''; it''s what she would''ve liked to say, truthfully, but it would sit poorly with this mass crowd of people who would''ve liked to believe they weren''t modern-day serfs.


    "...participation, ha-ha-ha. So. I''m here speaking to you today because... Tsang Solutions have made a striking development in our fight against the terrorists who plague our beautiful, irreplaceable city." The crowd shut the fuck up then, now rapt with attention - they wanted, nay, needed to know more. The terrorist attacks had been mounting in recent years, of course... and there were few among the populace who didn''t live in fear of waking up to their whole apartment being firebombed.


    Judas took a single step towards Vivica, disconnecting the mic from its stand so she could talk as she walked. One foot was raised up and then gently placed atop Vene''s throat; barely any pressure was applied, but enough that Vene''s eyes snapped wide, and her sobbing slowed to become frantic, though muted, whimpering. Judas gestured down at the green-haired girl, ensuring at least one of the broadcasters'' cameras caught the tattoo on the shaved side of her head.


    "Kehler Complex was recently under attack by anti-corporatist seditionists. The... ''Revenants'', I believe they call themselves. Tsang forces responded as quickly as they could, but... well, they hit the main furnace in the depths of the complex. Kehler Complex is no more, and... We lost a great many brave men and women that day, fighting off these terrorist scum." A little more pressure. Her foot and her weight were the coils of a viper, and Vene had been caught in a snake pit.


    The green-haired girl put both hands up, tentatively, to the ankle of Judas''s booted foot. Judas responded by pressing down just a little harder, just a sliver more weight... and Vene felt her windpipe begin to close, ever so slowly. "But. We''ve managed to capture this woman, this... Vivica Blackwater. She and her associated orchestrated the attack, and we believe many more; we will be investigating promptly, of course. But, this is a huge break for us, and for all of you. Tsang Solutions will not sleep, will not eat, will not stop until Vitus is safe, for everyone!"


    Everyone except dissenters. That went without saying, Judas imagined. The reply from the crowd was another eruption of sound and motion, tranquil seas becoming tumultuous in a mere second. This time, despite their volume, Judas continued - raising her tone, and her volume, to match their excitement.


    "You all deserve to live a life, first or second, where you are free of the shadow of fear! Tsang will stop at nothing to provide you that life - if we all can live forever, then we deserve to live well forever! For thousands of years, we''ve killed one another over concepts like a potential ''heaven'', and now, extremist criminals like the Revenants and the Knights of Saint Lazarus would see us die for their heavens, right?! But, working together, unifying as a city and as a nation, we can make our own heaven!"


    These were words which had always rung within the minds of Vitus''s populace, at least, to a degree. If they were going to live indefinitely, then why was life so hard? Why were things so very oppressive in nature, from the grueling grind of the corporate ladder, to the vicious jockeying for status and stability of the social climate? Why were taxes so high? Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera... ad infinitum, until nearly every social ill of Vitus had been laid out. To hear Judas address their thoughts and concerns? People couldn''t stop cheering; none of them were paying attention to the way Judas had really begun to press on Vivica''s neck, nor the way Vene scrabbled and struggled impotently at her oppressor''s foot.


    "And so! To welcome in this new age, this brand new fu- er, fortunate era of prosperity and peace among all peoples of Vitus! I have been given permission to announce that, starting next month, we will be introducing a brand new economic initiative, to ensure no one in this great city ever goes hungry, or cold, or homeless, ever again!"


    The response to this was good, though perhaps not what one would expect given the preludes. However, that was good - she had worded it in that way on purpose, so that they would calm just a touch so that she could make her closing statement. It was a short address; there would be no questions from the press, of course. Tsang were the press, anyways.


    "But! In closing! I have something I need from you - something Tsang itself needs from you. We are working hard to quell the dangerous elements of Vitus... but we need your help." And there it was. Behind her, hundreds of windows on Tsang Tower suddenly came alive with LED luminescence. One by one, countless windows as pixels, lighting up in a myriad of colors... to form the image of Judas''s real target. Blonde hair, emerald eyes, pale skin... and a doeish face that was just begging to be browbeaten.


    "This is the face of Vitus''s current top suspect in a variety of murders, acts of arson, and other despicable dealings. Her name is Esper James Price-Wynnfield, and she is the number one position of Tsang''s most-wanted list. We need your help to catch her! Vitus is a big city, and while we can arrive on the scene quickly, we can''t be everywhere at once!"


    Judas suppressed the grin which threatened her lips. It was kinda fun, in a way... like she was showing off a prize, or a trophy, or a favorite toy. Thousands of people suddenly knew who Esper James was, at least in the capacity that they had seen her face and knew her name. Everyone wanted their playthings to be popular, right? Judas continued, pressing even harder into Vene''s windpipe. The girl with the green hair began to weep openly, and scream and beg and plead as best she could, though it was nearly unnoticeable from how fully her throat had been constricted.


    "Esper James Price-Wynnfield must be brought down! There is a five million dollar bounty on her head - alive! Specifically alive! Any information that leads directly to her arrest will earn you the bounty! Now, I''ve taken up enough of your time... as one final parting gift from Tsang, go out tonight, and treat yourself to any meal you want. Have the butchers send us the bill. Tonight, it''s on us!"


    The crowd renewed its frenzy at this; no one but Judas noticed Vene pass out, eyes rolling back in her head. Not dead... yet. Judas wanted to make that special.

 Act Four (Ch. 75) - Snow Magic; or, Licorice Whipped

    Things had been tense, in a strange way, ever since EJ had been released from the infirmary. They were tense in the way that Est wouldn''t let EJ go anywhere alone anymore - tagging along for every bathroom trip, every jaunt off to Zofia''s little mad scientist hovel, every trip to the kitchen for a midnight snack (a new privilege, bestowed in light of her previous difficulties; and, arguably, as a reward for compliance).


    EJ didn''t mind... she couldn''t mind, really. Not that she did in the first place, of course, but... it was good to remind herself that she didn''t really have a choice, because at least then it felt a bit more akin to an inevitability, rather than a consequence. Letting it be an inevitability just meant she got to hang out with Est more, and give Purity some breathing room; she wanted both of those things, and so it was far easier for her to deal with when put through that lens.


    Time to be alone became time to be with a lover; she had yet to feel truly lonely since she and Purity had even fled with Kell to the factory, but now? Loneliness was the furthest thing from her mind. In a way, a sick, uncertain way, she loved that she never had to be apart from the women she cared about. She had yearned for so very long for this... for the comfort, this constant presence, the absence of absence itself...


    It was, perhaps, a result of too much media consumption. She''d drowned herself in so many fanfics, so many doujin and manga and so on and so forth, and so very many of them had, well... To be honest, problematic relationships. Those things had mixed with her own loneliness, her own lack of love in her life, and blossomed into a black-petaled bloom which soaked up every last drop of moonlight in her tar-riddled heart. The garden of EJ''s feelings had quickly become dominated by this fascination; now that she was living it? It was every bit as wonderful as she had thought it would be.


    And while Est supervised Esper James like she was a prisoner being escorted about her penitentiary, Purity was... well, distant. More and less dejected by the day, she wasn''t nearly so ever-present as she had initially been. Esper James had still been working things out with herself, trying to figure out where her own head was at after all of this, when she really noticed Purity''s distance... and it was anything but a pleasant revelation.


    So, for the past three or so days (at least, EJ thought it had been Saturday when she had woken up in the infirmary), she had been minimizing any action that didn''t lead directly to the three of them being around each other as often, and as closely, as possible. Eating together was a given... showering together, too, was to be expected. Sleeping as a single unit? Of course.


    But more than that, Esper James had immediately begun to insist that the three of them always went together to any testing the Waywards had planned for the little blonde. That meant, regardless of how impactful it was, the three of them needed to come to a consensus as to when they would actually be free to go. It was easier than it might''ve been, had they still been leading semi-normal lives... they had no television to catch, no movies to pause, no events to interrupt. Their lives revolved a fair bit around the tests.


    But still, even in the three days it had been? On Tuesday, Purity wanted to rest in their dorm all day - and so, they had missed one day of three, because one of them wanted to stay in their room and not go to the lab. Thinking about it that way didn''t help, EJ thought... thinking about it as though, somehow, Purity''s slump was some sort of issue, or an obstruction to everyone else''s joy. It wasn''t fair to her.


    No, she understood perfectly well why Purity would be so fucked up; in fact, she knew damn well she would''ve been exactly the same, had the two swapped places. If Purity had been the one getting shot, and EJ had only learned of it after the fact? And that it had only happened because of a deception, and because EJ hadn''t been there to stop Purity, or coax her out of such a riled-up state? Or so on, and so forth, and this and that and the other thing... EJ beat herself up about it for a long while, really, but it had only happened a few days ago. She''d wait till it wasn''t so fresh.


    The point, then, was that Purity''s behavior was anything but condemnable. Esper James sat on her bed, thinking all these thoughts, letting them pour thru her and run overtop of her as if she was a corpse dumped in a river. Currently, the bedroom cum dorm cum holding cell that the three women took up residence within was as it often was, given the recent changes in attitudes and behaviors.


    Esper James was practically chained to Purity, both of them lounging in bed, snuggling and watching videos on Purity''s phone. Esthrielle was currently away, off in the convent''s fitness centre (a fancy name for a gym, EJ thought), doing her best to keep her organic segments at their peak. Even after mechanizing all her limbs, she still found great benefit in repeated training, if only to remember the motions and memorize the sensations of it all.


    That made a fair bit of sense to Esper James - it had when Est explained it, anyways. Even as a second-living, EJ liked to be up during the daylight to remember what it was like to be a morning person. She liked to feel the sun on her skin, to feel its warmth in her pores, and its glow lighting up her hair... she didn''t often get the chance amidst the smog-choked cityscape, but when she did, it was cathartic.


    And so, she assumed it was the same for Esthrielle. Feeling her muscles burn, her body make those old, familiar motions... It had to be nice, right? Comforting, like a memory of home. Speaking of home, though, EJ snapped herself from her dissociative fog just in time to see Purity make a long, loud yawn. The pinkette''s plush cheeks rose and her soft lips split; her mouth formed a great oval, and the sound of sleepiness poured then from the taller woman''s mouth. It rose up into the air, music to EJ''s ears, though music that also brought the siren song of sleep in its wake.


    Esper James was caught by just how very cute it was. Like, sure, Purity wasn''t trying to be cute about something so basic as yawning, but still. When you were smitten, sometimes such basic events can seem quite cute, can''t they? EJ held herself back from saying something about it, though - Purity was fairly morose again today, and while she was in high enough spirits to cuddle, Esper James felt it best not to push her luck.


    Instead, EJ simply joined in the yawn, snuggling up closer to Purity once they had both expressed their bodies'' desire for further sedentary activity. The blonde''s head rested upon Purity''s chest, somewhere across both the right breast and the right collarbone; her cheek pressed to supple bosom, and her eyes gazed up at Purity''s phone. They had been watching a cop drama about a lesbian cop whose lover turns to a life of crime under a convoluted premise that, as long as the cop investigates whatever crimes her lover is in, she won''t get caught. EJ thought it was pretty cool... but, living in Vitus, it felt a bit too close to the truth to really discount her unease at the premise.


    Purity shifted her gaze down to EJ, closing her mouth and giving off a dim little flicker of love, the gentle curl of a smile at lips'' edge. She continued to watch her blonde babe, eyes averted as a gratuitous sex scene came on their show (sex sells, after all)... and, after about a solid minute of staring down into EJ''s skyward eyes, she paused the show.


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    EJ raised a brow, putting her arms around Purity''s midsection to snuggle up that much closer, giving her lover a quizzical expression. Purity yawned once more, smaller and quicker and less pronounced; once it was finished, she took the chance to speak. "Hmmmnh... EJ. We... I... We need to talk a little, yeah? While... while Est isn''t here."


    Ice shot thru EJ''s veins immediately, then - her blood practically froze in its tracks, and she stumbled over her own tongue like a track and field specialist who couldn''t hop a hurdle. When finally she found lingual footing to actually speak, Purity just continued ahead with a gentle smile and a playful sort of disdainfulness taking refuge in her eyes. EJ felt a bit smaller, seeing the expression, how aloof and amused it was... and even more so after fumbling her words so badly.


    "EJ, I... I love you. I love you so damn much, you know? And..." She took a deep breath, then, drawing in an enormous gulp of air before releasing it in a single immense sigh. "...and I want us to work. You and me, first and foremost - I love Est, she''s so sweet and reliable and lovely, but I started all this with you. I owe it to you to stick it out, and do everything I can for us, right?" EJ yearned to say ''right''.


    She continued on, words proceeding without fault or fumble. Esper James''s silence seemed to fuel the Vitus native''s own monologue, and as said fuel was added to the metaphorical fire, the flames climbed and climbed towards the sky. Purity''s enthusiasm grew, and some of the emotion which had been hidden away deigned it fit to re-announce themselves to the world. Purity even set her phone down on the nightstand, before rolling over to face EJ head on - going to ape the embrace Esper James was giving her, though Purity''s arms wrapped about the smaller girl''s upper torso.


    "I mean, I''ll be blunt. I''ve been in a pretty bad funk ever since you fucking snuck out and got yourself shot. It was a huge breach of trust. And, like... it was fucking disrespectful, right? We wanted to be there with you, knowing full well that you''d be going through some bullshit. And..." Her barely-there smile faded a bit, returning to the neutral look of apathy she had held earlier. Purity sighed, closing her eyes and rubbing at them.


    "And, yeah. Est and I reacted badly initially. I saw you nearly drown, and I''ve... I''ve gone on dates with a lot of second-living. I know how bad it is for them, even just the fear of drowning. But the actual thing? The specifics of it? I was distraught, because I thought my beloved ghoul was going to go through literal Hell until they could pump your lungs." Apathy became annoyance; it danced at the edge of being something more, but managed to refrain only just.


    Esper James was cowed by this mild tirade, the strength of Purity''s words a cruel dichotomy against the softness and sweetness of her tone. Puri wasn''t a girl whose voice lent itself easily to being vicious, or upset, or even a little peeved. Now, here she was, trying to get across her own negative emotions to Esper James, when the blonde had only maybe seen Purity angry once or twice before. If that, honestly.


    "We reacted badly. But... so what? You could have, and should have, said something to us. We should have had a talk about it, not just... you making a decision, one that affects all of us, by yourself. It was awful." She let her rage simmer for a few moments, the words lingering in the air even as EJ''s heart lingered in her own throat. Purity could''ve simply left it at that, and it would have remained on Esper James''s chest like a leaden weight all the way until Esthrielle returned. Thankfully, in a way, she continued.


    "It was awful, EJ, being in bed and trying to... trying to recover, mentally, from seeing you drown. From seeing what a terrible shape you had been in. From seeing you soggy like a fucking wet towel, stripped nude, pumped full of morphine, getting your lungs drained out. Can you even fucking imagine what that was like for me? That double-whammy?" Her anger hadn''t increased, but her annoyed look filled itself out to a full-on scowl.


    EJ tried to think of some way to respond, but she couldn''t for a long while - when she did think of something, anything, Purity interrupted her with a sound even as she tried to speak. "Uhp! No, no, let me finish, babe. I''m... almost done." Seeing EJ''s yap close obediently, her big emerald greens still locked on Purity''s glowing pinks, the club darling smiled once more. Satisfaction came easily when one had little to lose.


    "But. But... I get it. I get why you did it, and so, I... I want us to work this out. I love you, EJ. I love you. You mean so much to me, more than the moon, the stars, and the planet itself. And, you, a-ah..." A light red tint began to hang about her ears and cheeks, and Purity''s eyes shot down and away - looking at anything she could find that wasn''t EJ''s face. "Y-You were... understanding with me, when I did a... a fuck-up of my own. I got to fuck up once and you still let me come back. I''m... I''m willing to give you a chance to come back, too."


    EJ''s worried heart flourished, then, into a bouquet of loving red. She couldn''t even begin to describe how she was feeling - all the self-loathing she had accrued over sneaking out, brought to the fore to be stared down under the heat of Purity''s blazing, scorching sun... but then to be cooled, to be granted succour and reprieve, being told that she was forgiven. And if not forgiven, she was at least understood.


    Esper James was rapt with attention, eyes big and wide and locked dead upon Purity''s own, whenever the pinkette saw fit to look down at her diminutive darling. Purity did so again after a moment or two, offering an awkward, bashful smile as her final expression in the parade of emotion she had displayed. "So. I''m willing to let this all go, if you are, and if we both promise to be better about this sort of thing in the future. No more... n-no more lying. We said it earlier; let''s say it again. No more lies, okay?"


    That seemed like as good a springboard as any for EJ to use to vault her way to verbal success. She nodded fervently, then burying her face into Purity''s chest in a great embrace that set the two of them to giggling. "Yes! Yes, Puri, I promise! No more lies! No more lies, not now, not ever... you''re so very right. It was stupid and fucking shitty of me to have done that, and we''re both better off without that sort of behavior." There wasn''t much more for EJ to say, though she absolutely felt as though she should. As a result? She simply buried herself even more emphatically into Purity''s luxurious bosom.


    Purity giggled again, rolling her eyes and going to peck Esper James on the forehead. She left an invisible silhouette of her lips, painted with gentle damp; another was set to mark Esper James''s cheeks, and then her own lips. These plans were interrupted by the opening of the door, Esthrielle staggering in, breathing heavily and looking frantic. She slammed the door behind herself, though almost immediately, there was knocking.


    Est was crying.


    Purity noticed first; her amusement and mirth drained in a millisecond, replaced now with the concern of a lover who has just seen their partner appear disheveled and distraught. "Est? Est, what the...?! Esthrielle, come here, please...! What''s wrong?!" Puri pushed herself to an upright sit in the bed, but she wasn''t quite able to get all the way up without being forced to clamber overtop of EJ. That wasn''t in the cards.


    Est tried to babble something, but seemed distracted. One hand went up to her head, fingers entangling with her own hair; she seemed every bit the image of a woman who was enduring a great headache, the sort of migraine that made one feel as though the weight of a collapsing star had been leveled onto their cortices. She cried harder, and harder, her expression of distress becoming one of rage, then pain, then agony. She reached out with her spare hand towards the women in bed, for someone to help her.


    EJ hopped to her feet, then, slipping out of bed and rushing over. She was, at first, set to simply carry Est back to the bed - but, realizing that Est was holding the door shut, Esper James decided it may have been more apt to simply replace her. And so, they swapped places - Est now free to move away, EJ holding the door shut with ghoulish strength. She was surprised that no one was really pushing on it, or trying to force an entry... just knocking every once in a while.


    Est staggered over to the bed, and as soon as she was close enough, she let her legs give out and allowed herself to collapse onto the cushion. Purity was quick to gather the other woman up in her arms, dragging her the rest of the way onto the bed and holding her oh so very close. She was straight to the point, then, after a moment''s embrace.


    "Est? What''s wrong?! Are you hurt - do we need to call someone? Please, fucking say something!"

 Act Four (Ch. 76) - Clear Quiver; or, Halo of Fire

    Esthrielle coughed, wheezed, and hacked; her vision focused, unfocused, and refocused again like a camera unsure what the fuck it was trying to take a picture of. Purity gave her a little slap - once, twice, and the eternally ubiquitous thrice was made to move before being caught mid-send by Est herself. She pinched Purity with measured tenderness about the rosette''s wrist, though when she jerked her head about to stare Puri in the eye, Est was more than a little peeved about getting slapped.


    "Oi, yes, okay. I''m fucking good, okay? Stop smacking me." Est stared Purity down like a tweaker eyeballing a cop, daring them to fucking ''do something''. Purity decided not to ''do something'', at least in the sense that she was immediately cowed; she backed down without a fight, eyebrows lowering and a gentle whimper escaping her lips. "Ah, f-fuck, ah... Sorry, Est, I... Sorry..."


    Est realized what she''d done a second later, and she opened her mouth and started to reach to comfort and apologize to her beloved - but, then she remembered the situation she and her girlfriends were in. A situation only she knew about, funnily enough. Another knock came from the door, right behind Esper James''s head; a voice came along with it this time, and EJ was only a little bit pained to recognize whose it was. Of course, one of the only people here who would willingly speak... but also, why was Est running from him?


    "Esthrielle, please... Come on, sweetheart, mi bambina dolce... Come on. You knew this was coming, right? You knew it. Every day, you had to think of it... Please, let me in..." Another knock right after that, more insistent. Luca''s voice was stained with an ever-growing sadness, like coffee spilt across a paper tablecloth; just as warm and sweet, but quickly growing cold and disappointing and sad. EJ didn''t even know what the hell Luca was talking about, but she... well, she couldn''t help but feel sorry for him, with how he was pleading.


    Est shut her yap immediately, eyes wincing closed, face stricken with sudden, temporary pain. She looked as strained as she seemed to be feeling - as though Purity could nick her with a pocket knife and she''d release like a ripcord, split down the middle. She gathered herself then, rubbing at her eyes through her lids for a moment, and then another, before beginning to explain in a stage whisper.


    "Fuck. Luca''s... Luca''s leaving. That''s not great, but I''m not fucked up about that. He''s got his own life to live and his own shit to do, right? He''s a busy fucking guy. Running a whole ass city-state-thing-whatever the fuck Venice is nowadays is hard, right? Right. Right, yeah, but..." As Esthrielle continued, more voices cropped up outside - female voices, speaking to Luca, and then with Luca. One sounded like the mother abbess, EJ figured, pressing an ear to the hardwood and really focusing her senses on it.


    The other? That weird blonde girl... what was her name again. Angelien? An odd woman, for sure... and an odd woman who put Esper James just a little bit on edge. She had showed some softness when EJ had woken up from pain and sleep a few days ago, it was true, and Esper James couldn''t hold her emotional distance against her therefore, but... She still seemed like she had thoughts she wasn''t sharing. Hrm.


    Well? Whatever.


    Est continued once more, screwing up her face and seeming that much more frustrated by the new voices joining the search party''s chorus. "F-Fuck...! Okay, okay, so... Luca''s leaving, and he wants to bring me with him. That''s it. That''s the whole issue. He wants to bring me with him and there''s zero fucking chance he can take either of you with him cause of stuff and reasons, not least of which is that the Church would destroy him and raze Venice to the ground for bringing you back home, EJ. They would rather scorched earth the entire city than let a single second-living exist there happily and peacefully... I know, I already talked with him about the possibility. It''s a no-go."


    That sent ice through EJ, the ghost of Jack Frost dancing in her chest cavity. It was a pretty grim possibility, yeah... The idea that she and Est may be wrenched apart so cruelly and callously, and especially by someone as otherwise kind and inobtrusive as Luca. Him being a fairly decent man to be around, at least in EJ''s opinion, made this feel all the worse.


    "I don''t want to go. Obviously. I want to stay here with the both of you, r-regardless of... regardless of what happens. I can''t just abandon you two, and I love you. I love you two, god fucking damnit. And now it comes up that I might be going back to Italy... haha, fuck, y''know... I wanted to go back to Italy all last year, and the year before... but now..."


    She didn''t need to finish the sentence for the words to come across. ''But now, I want to stay here'', or something to that effect - EJ was sure of it, down to the marrow of her bones. She didn''t want Est to go either; she wanted Est to stay here, to stay with her and Purity. How could she not? EJ felt hot grief begin to well at the corners of her eyes, though it wasn''t quite sadness, and she wasn''t quite crying; it was closer to frustration, and while her expression became anything but a smile, it was far closer to a grimace or a baring of the teeth in rage than out of sorrow or melancholy.


    Purity was... numb. She looked broken up, but in the same way that glass shards looked even more broken up when they were ground into a fine, glittering powder. Purity was powder, then, and just like powder, she looked as though she could be blown around by a strong wind. She nearly fainted back onto the bed - Est allowed her to fall, but before Purity''s consciousness slipped free, Est gave her a firm shake to keep her grounded. Grounded enough to maintain consciousness, if nothing else.


    "Ok! Yes, yes, Purity, I get it! I''m... I''m not leaving. I am staying here. I will... I will fucking disobey orders if it comes down to that. That might mean we''ll need to find a new place to stay, find a new way to be safe on our own, but... But we''ll still be together, right? That''ll be... that''ll still be better than being apart. Anything, a-anything would be better than, uh, than being apart..." Est''s fury simmered down and mellowed out into a bitter tea of wine-dark sludge now, the acrid, astringent flavor of her own bitter melancholy causing her to wrinkle her nose.


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    Esper James decided it was finally her time to speak up, also offering a stage whisper that she tried her best to project outwards toward Est, and away from the door that the blonde was currently pressing herself to. As she began to speak, someone actually pushed on the door - a new development - and there was a sound of soft frustration as they found their exploratory prod pushed back at them.


    "Est...! Fuck going home, I agree - but what''re we gonna do?! Should I try and, like, put down an ultimatum that if they take you, I won''t help them anymore? Or something like that? Or, uh... maybe that we still need you, cause you''ve got-" Esper James was all set to continue babbling with whatever came to the top of her mind, floating up like scum in a fermenting vat. Est, however, raised a hand and presented her palm to silence the blondette.


    "Shush. Please. I... I need to think. We''ve gotta... we''ve gotta get him to leave alone. It fucks me up to need to trick him, but, like... f-fuck it. I can''t let him take me away...!" Her rage cracked then, and in that minute crack, the pain of preemptive sorrow and grief and impotence shone through. It was hard, EJ though, to see Est like this... strong, beautiful Est, independent and headstrong to a fault, reduced to this...


    The knocking did not come again, but now, Luca''s voice returned.


    "Esthrielle. I know you are in there... I know you can hear me. You are a grown woman; you are my little sister, but you are your own adult. I will not force you to do anything. Would you come speak with me, even through this door, so your lovers can hear?" Est''s expression shifted upwards to a display of pleasant surprise, eyes widening and mouth making a gentle circle of soft wonder and intrigue. She didn''t quite hop to her feat yet, but the disbelief in her eyes and on her lips was enough for a bewildered smile and to have her turn to face the door.


    Luca continued in the silence, but not before sighing long and hard, drawing in every ounce of breath he seemingly could before releasing it all in a single, prolonged huff. "I am leaving. I must return to Venice. I have been here a week, perhaps, but even a week is a considerably long period of time for one such as myself to be away from their jurisdiction. My lands, and my people, need me. They need you, too, Est... but the time is not yet correct to bring you, and Purity, and Esper James, home. Not yet."


    He cleared his throat before proceeding. Here, Est found herself inclined to push up to a stand and pad towards the door, barely able to parse what she was hearing. Barely able to believe it, at least. "So. Since they can not return with us... you have my leave, as your ruler and dispatcher, to remain here to ensure the safety of valuable assets. And... H-Heheh, uh... ah... As your older brother, Est, you have my permission to stay here and keep the women you love safe. I would never take you from them, not... not when your passion burns so hotly. Not when you have so much yet to do here... not just for the crusade, but for yourself."


    Est began to grapple with something in her own throat, a metaphysical frog of emotion that threatened to choke her to death at any given moment. She swallowed, coughed, moved her tongue about as if she was stirring a soup with it... nothing. No words came to her; no syllables, even. No, she couldn''t create within herself the barest ghost of a sound, even after trying with everything she had. She was, well and truly, speechless in that moment.


    Luca lingered there, paused for some response that never seemed as though it was about to come. EJ looked at Est, standing a foot in front of her, the Wayward staring past her, past the door behind her, straight to her brother. Ghoulish shoulders dropped and their owner hunched to try and be that much more diminutive, some meagre attempt to get out of the way of Est''s peering eyes.... But now, instead, she decided that it would be better to just fucking move. Smart idea, EJ.


    And so, ''just fucking move'' is exactly what she did. Esper James ducked out of the way - almost immediately, Esthrielle rushed to the door and pulled it wide. She was still fighting to produce any sort of words, but her eyes were wide and watery, her lower lip trembled like a ripple on the surface of a pond, and she seemed so much smaller than she ever had before.


    Luca turned to look down at her. He was dressed for travel, back in the black suit and slacks that he had been wearing during his first trip to the hell of a city-state that was Vitus. At his left, Angelien was dressed the same - ideally, she would be his driver now just as she had been his driver then. The mother abbess was vacant, notably, but Est didn''t feel like she was missing anything for not having the abbess present for this emotional compromise and goodbye.


    "L-Luca... Luca, I... I..." She managed those, at least. Luca ruined it, though - doing so by turning his body, too, to address her, then gathering the smaller sister up in his arms for an enormous embrace. He held her so very close, then, whispering softly in Italian into her ear; she couldn''t find the strength to respond, but she certainly found the strength to return his hug until her mechanical prosthesis started to creak and groan and beg for mercy.


    "No, Esthrielle, no... no words. I understand. I love you, my sweet sister... I love you, and I love what you are doing here. It is in God''s plan to unite all peoples of the Earth, si? You are taking the first steps towards uniting the second-living and the New Way. Thank you. Please, stay here... continue on. I love you, little sister. Send me letters." She was bestowed an extra squeeze, and then he broke away. Time was of the essence: the window for any sort of smuggling, including smuggling people, was short in a given day or week or month. Luca had to fucking go.


    "Luca...! I-! I love you! I love you, big b-bro-! Big brother!" It seemed to Esper James, in retrospect, something from a Hallmark film - but in the moment, it may have been the first time Esthrielle ever got the chance to say those things aloud. Hell, she may have never even considered what Luca meant to her before, except that he was important. And now? Now, it was clear. Now, it was oh so very true. It was nice for her, to finally acknowledge that she had something resembling a family - something outside of the women she loved, at least.


    She fell to her knees then, beginning to bawl inconsolably, though EJ certainly attempted to console her. The blonde couldn''t deny a bit of relief that it had all gone seemingly well...


    ...seemingly.

 Act Four (Ch. 77) - White Hidden Fire; or, To Think You Knew You Know You Thought

    The consolation of Esthrielle was as it always was, when one of the three women''s hearts hurt at those long-lived fracture lines. Esper James scooped Esthrielle up beneath both arms, exerting ghoulish strength without so much as a thought - her relief that things had gone over well was at the foremost of her mind, and so there was none of the usual hesitation to put forth as much power as was required.


    Est''s body, heavy from metal but compact by natural design, was hoisted. Her legs trailed limply down from her waist, pooling (in so much a capacity as a leg can pool) upon the carpeted floor below; the rest of her was nearly as limp, though she had the good sense to at least hold her spine with enough rigidity that she wasn''t falling all over Esper James. She was closer to a medical training dummy than a sack of potatoes, EJ figured - and therefore, less of a hassle to scoop.


    Scooped girlfriend in her arms, EJ toddled awkwardly towards where Purity lay, watching the proceedings with a tender, lovelorn expression. An expression that, echoing the sensations in Esper James''s own heart, was laced with a great wave of exhaustion. Purity went to help gather Esthrielle''s torso up into her arms, saying nothing but cooing and shushing as gingerly as a nurse might. Nurse seemed appropriate; Est certainly needed treatment.


    Est just fucking bawled. It was cause for wonder how the tears kept coming unabated, though in retrospect, our lovely ghoulette figured that perhaps these tears were synthetic, too. Very likely they were simply saline, formed of sodium and water filtered from nutritional intake to concoct a chemical cocktail resembling real human sadness. The material aspect of emotion may well be synthesized through artificial means, but it wouldn''t take an empath to know that what Esthrielle was feeling was oh so very real.


    For how long had she and Luca known one another? For how long had they shared the same space, very much the same life - a mentor and his pupil, a ward and her guardian, a tender lily and its careful gardener? From what EJ knew of Est''s past, there had been a great deal of pain and strife... A great, great deal of agony, and waiting, and loss. Loss of years, loss of dignity, loss of opportunities... and yet, Luca had arrived and taken her from all of that. What had that been like for her?


    To suddenly know freedom, but not quite familiarity... not initially, and not for years. The next few years were spent in the doge''s palazzo, never leaving without accompaniment, never allowed to wander without watchful eyes from the shade; she had been a bird in a gilt cage, but it was the type of aviary where the bird preferred to stay behind the bars.


    And yet, in that time, had they ever spoken about what they were to one another? What each one meant to the other one? Or had it simply been a business affair, one wherein emotions were given in transaction, not unconditionally; had the doge wanted her to remain little more than an adoptee, and not truly a member of the family? Not a true daughter, or sister?


    Esper James was an only child, but... it made her a bit nauseous to even think of. To never know a family, existing only in a prison... and then as soon as you are given one, they restrict the love they can show you. It would have been grievous, EJ figured... assuming that love was simply the absence of abuse. Assuming that care was naught more than a refrain from mistreatment, and not the bestowal of concern and attention. It made EJ think of her own family, though not in the sense that they had ever treated her that way.


    Nova Scotia, so far to the north from Vitus... and yet, even now, it felt like home. Esper James had been lucky, her father and mother ever so loving and kind and supportive of her endeavors. When she had told them she was dead, they had cried... of course they had cried. Esper James would have felt cold grow in her heart if they had been so callous as to not cry. But they had, and it had been hard for a moment - not as hard as telling them she wanted to start on estradiol, all those years ago, but it had been close.


    Just as then, however, they had accepted her. They had loved her despite what she was, despite societal views - or their own accepted beliefs - about what she was. She was her own woman, and while it''s fairly traumatic to hear that one''s child is dead, hearing that they died in Vitus is the biggest relief a UNAC citizen can receive. At least they''re not dead dead, most people figure.


    Those people have never entered the smog-laden city where the sun never truly rises; they''ve never seen what it''s like to live surrounded by concrete and dark, what it''s like to guzzle those little black pills, what it''s like to eat little more than meat and booze. They''ve never seen the true face of Tsang. But... Eugh. EJ pressed those thoughts from her brain; she had been thinking about Est, not waxing poetic about the horrors of the modern world. She needed to get back to focusing on the New Way''s most in-need-of-a-hug soldier.


    A hug was what the slender stalwart was receiving, it seemed. Purity had swaddled the sobbing Esthrielle up in arms and flesh and love, cushioning a white-haired head in a supple bosom, a gentle reminder of touch given through stroking of that same pale-coated crown. Purity seemed a bit more lucid, further from the earlier near-faint she had been enthralled in, but the return of her focus and her brain was relegated now to giving attention to the little Easterner in her arms.


    She looked down at Esthrielle, eyes narrowed in the loving way of one who is caring for and consoling their beloved - her expression a half-smile which she whispered through, saying such sweet, subtle words of adoration and support. And yet, when Est seemed fit to continue crying for a bit longer, Purity''s gaze raised to EJ. Their eyes locked, and EJ could tell right away: Purity was concerned. Not just for Est, either.


    Esper James quickly joined them on the bed, body to body, flesh to flesh, working to sandwich Est''s organic torso betwixt the pair of them. It was an interesting transhumanist conglomerate, in a sense: a normal, unaltered woman, and then one whose body was as much synthetic as it was organic, and then finally a woman every bit as dead as she was alive. If emotions hadn''t been so very tumultuous at the moment, Esper James may have given a laugh at the thought of them. What a trio, eh? Three different worlds coming together in a religious extremist safehouse, in the middle of the city of the dead. EJ would need to write that down for a movie pitch, perhaps if things returned to normal.


    That was an enormous, unfathomable if.


    The tears continued to flow, though their deluge became a drizzle, and then little more than a somber atmosphere which Esper James and Purity did all in their power to squeeze out of existence. Purity spoke up now, saying something of more import than mere consolations and appeasements whispered to a distraught lover.


    "Est... Hey, hey... He''ll be okay. He''ll send you letters, or emails, or... or whatever you two send one another, you know? He''ll keep in touch. Your big brother would never abandon you; he''s been here for you ever since you''ve known each other. He''s got no reason to stop!" Purity capped the thought off with the press of soft, pink lips - they came together to grace Esthrielle''s forehead with their amorous touch, a kiss planted with the soft ''pop'' that came from a pucker which was released. The sound of it alone seemed to help Est calm herself, if only somewhat.


    She struggled to find a response, and as she did, Esper James nuzzled into the crook of Est''s neck from behind. She, too, delivered kisses to the Italian; soft little pecks and smacks, smooches and pops, each one finding a new inch of warm brown flesh to land upon. Esper James figured that, maybe if she could blanket her entire lover in these gentle expressions of affection, then perhaps all the cracks in her heart might heal. Unrealistic, perhaps, but it was worth a try.


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    And try she did. As she kissed, Esthrielle finally managed to form syllables into words, chaining them all into a rough response - one that shook like a wooden shack in a tempest, but which held through all the way till the end, even though it seemed fit to collapse at any given moment. As she started to speak, a tentative smile painted itself from corner to corner of her mouth, but her lips trembled even as it was pulled taut.


    "He... He''ll send me s-stuff. You''re right. He... He''s always, only ever, been th-the one to send me anything... To... t-to care about me, haha. I never really had many friends back in Venice, hehe, a-a-and... And here? Psh. It took me a while of being here to find you two, aha..." There was mirth in her laughter, but only in the way that mirth found itself blossoming in those deepest trenches of deep emotional turmoil. Sometimes the body laughs only because it doesn''t really know what else to do in the moment. Est''s body had no idea what to do.


    Purity pulled Est in closer, not that there was much distance to even be covered by the smaller woman. They were already veritably pressed to one another, and now? Now they were really squeezed, body to body, with only the bed covers and their clothing to separate them. The servos on Esthrielle''s arms whirred and worked softly as she squeezed Purity with one and EJ with the other, the motions so slow and deliberate. EJ never really noticed the sounds Est''s body made before, not usually.


    The longer they sat there, drowning pleasantly in one another, the more of Est''s sounds Esper James began to pick out. The servos were one thing, sure, but then... Then there was the gentle rush of nutrifluid through her veins, the medicated slurry of it all flowing through thin, branching pathways no longer organic in nature. Further still, there was the subtle wetness of her muscles filling with the nutrifluid, swelling and expelling the old fluid as they flexed and strained to hug Esthrielle''s lovers.


    EJ sighed, closing her eyes, focusing on the sounds. She could feel, ever so distantly, her lover''s heartbeat - not so directly, but through the blood which rushed through Esthrielle''s veins. Every beat pumped the vital essence through her body... and alongside the drumbeat march of her heart, muffled breaths were made by yet-natural lungs. Or, presumably natural. They didn''t sound too different from organic lungs, at least.


    Esthrielle began to truly simmer down, then, her pulse diminishing and her blood no longer pumping so hot and heavy. It was good, to know she was getting a grip - to know that she was able to find solace in Esper James and Purity, and use that solace to stabilize herself. Now, let''s only hope that she could hold to that for the rest of the evening... all the way up until the trio laid down for bed, and they could once again gather Est up in their arms and squeeze that sadness free like a juiced fruit.


    Silence, and the sound of breathing and bodies, reigned. It reigned for an indefinite amount of time, because none of them felt the need to keep track - keeping track of such things was useless, and vain. It would have degraded what would otherwise be a beautiful moment of silent love and solidarity between the three ladies. Esper James was not about to go and fuck up a good thing like this, not on purpose at the very least.


    It often felt like their love for one another was all they truly had - or so EJ found herself considering, time and time again. From the moment they had decided to walk this path as one, they had come back to one another''s embrace and words of consolation like a second home, ever so familiar and ever so comforting. It was a thought and feeling that Esper James returned to time and time again, always allowing herself to linger on the way she felt around the other two women. It never felt like it got old... never felt anything other than new, and fresh, and revitalizing. She never wanted that feeling to wear away into the dull warmth of normalcy.


    Not that she never wanted her love to be ''normal''; no, rather, she never wanted it to be something she could take for granted, even on accident. It always seemed so normal, she thought, as an outsider looking in... seeing relationships wherein the partners involved seemed to grow too accustomed to what they had, and no longer be able to revel in what should have been thrilling and euphoric.


    Men who didn''t swoon when their partner kissed them goodbye in the morning... Women who saw it was expected for their hands to be held so that they might be safe when crossing the street... Lovers buying things for one another and only being properly delighted as a performative measure, not as a genuine reaction made from love or enthusiasm. It blended into plenty of television and other media, as well - the idea that love should be deserved and written off as a fact of life, rather than a privilege; rather than as an ecstasy.


    It was true - Esper James wasn''t exactly ecstatic in this exact moment; her chest was pressed to Esthrielle''s back, her arms were about the other woman, and her face was nestled into Est''s neck. It was phenomenal, to be able to touch someone in those affectionate, amorous ways both openly and without worry or trepidation. It was lovely to love. It wasn''t thrilling, though, but that was okay, thought the gay ghoul girlthing. Even if love could yet be thrilling, it needn''t always be thrilling. It remained ever so much more special in those moments when it was allowed to be thrilling, in those cases.


    Finally, Esper James broke that silence that hung over them like a thick, woolen blanket. She pulled her head back naught but a few inches, now whispering directly into Est''s collarbone - it was so silent in the room that she need not fight to be heard, and being able to whisper her feelings made them feel that much more impactful. At least, it did in her mind. Whatever. She was a dramatic bitch sometimes. Shut up.


    "Mmmnh... Well, Est... We love you. It may have been so many years without us, so very many... but now that we''re together, we''ll fight hard to ensure we never find ourselves apart ever again. It''s like they say, you know? About, ''where''ve you been all my life''? We were in the UNAC, haha! And now..."


    Her arms slithered that much further around Esthrielle''s warm, biological midsection, soft ghoulish arms wrapping even more tightly about the other woman''s toned midriff. EJ buried her face back into Est''s body, reveling softly and sweetly in the warmth that the Wayward provided; she drank it in for a few moments before continuing her thought, the silence thankfully lingering in the interim. Purity and Est had waited patiently.


    "...now, we''re right here..." The tone of her voice did its best to imply there was no extension of the thought, despite the way EJ trailed off even as the ''here'' drifted from her lips. She gave Est another squeeze, trying by all accounts to press her entire body into Est''s with enough vigor as to join them on a molecular level. Sometimes EJ figured that was exactly what would have fixed her - to be able to reach singularity with one of the women who had done oh so very much for her.


    It would have made the sex a little weird, but honestly? A reasonable sacrifice.


    Esper James was less entranced by the sex than by the way it made her feel, anyways: the acceptance, the validation, the closeness with those who she entrusted her own body with (and who entrusted her with theirs, in turn). Like, sure, it was fun, but it was better for being fun; the fun wasn''t the entire, and only, appeal. But, enough about that! She wasn''t even having sex right now!


    Well, Est''s butt was pressed up to EJ''s loins... And they were on the bed already... but, no! Bad EJ! Down, girl! She wished briefly that there was a spritz bottle nearby, if only so that she could spritz herself in the face as some sort of punitive action. She wasn''t sure Purity or Est would have understood it, but it would''ve been for EJ''s own benefit! Sometimes it was ok to recreate a niche internet joke for one''s personal joy, even if the joke was particularly specific or perhaps a little humiliating!


    Est drew in a long, rattling breath as she allowed Esper James''s words to truly sink in. The sinking in only made them even more meaningful, it seemed; they marinated in their own emotion, and soon, Est found herself trembling as the weight of what Esper James had said was fully realized. They would try their damnedest to never be apart - regardless of what came of it. Esthrielle, a woman who had never really had anyone or anything to lean on other than oft-absent Luca, had people who cared for her.


    People who wanted her to succeed... to live life to its fullest, and find joy in that same living. What a magical concept. No more tears, though there was a notable whimper and shake that came from the Wayward; Purity responded too, then, though nonverbally. She simply adjusted her arms to gather Esper James up, too, and pulled the two smaller women into her loving embrace with a tender expression.


    Est and EJ allowed themselves to be drawn in without a struggle or fuss; this was exactly what they wanted, anyways, and so they were only receiving more of what they felt blessed to attain anyhow. EJ sucked in a long gulp of air through wide jaws, yawning then... and shutting her eyes. They had been taking so many naps recently, hadn''t they? But, in a way, a nap was yet an entire sort of activity when it was taken with a lover. It was simply another way to spend time together, and with the added benefit of being relaxing.


    Fuck it. Nap time. Hopefully tomorrow would be as sweet and tranquil.

 Act Four (Ch. 78) - Gripping A Rose; or, Needles Forced Through Skin

    Tomorrow was as sweet and tranquil as hoped for. And the next day... and the next... and the next...


    Following Luca''s departure, the days began to blend. Soon, it was the twenty-first - four days before Christmas. Yes, it was still December. Sometimes Esper James wondered about that, honestly... so much had happened, and seemed to be yet to happen, and so little time had truly passed. For the first time in decades of unlife, time felt as though it was progressing at a slow, steady, forgiving gait; it was no longer the infinite march of Chronos'' machination, but a natural thing to be enjoyed and taken one day at a time.


    The testing wound down, and then stopped nearly entirely. Now, Esper James simply reported to the laboratory for two reasons: the first was to monitor her vitals. The stated purpose was to check the viability, and stability, of a second-living who was being weaned off of FixAte. The mother abbess had mandated that, while Esper James and Purity were still free to stay in the convent, they needed to be cleared regularly to ensure any hints of feral nature could be nipped in the bud.


    This, Esper James figured, was entirely reasonable. The stories they told aboveground, out in Vitus proper, in the schools and the media and the UNAC-limited internet... they were brutal, and nightmarish. Countless movies, games, cartoons, comics, stage plays... A seemingly endless number of iterations of them, all depicting a second-living who sans-suppressant as a beast unleashed.


    Esper James did not think herself a horrible monster who would savage the flesh of her fellow human to sate the evil inside, that darkest of hungers which gnawed at the soul as it gnawed at the stomach. Hell, she didn''t even drool at the memory of eating that corpsec officer... Well, not as much as she did when it was still fresh in her mind. The occasional infusion of blood from Purity and Est had eased the flesh cravings to a near-nonexistence, and Esper James had begun to really, truly live free of that fear.


    The blood feeding became easier, even. Zofia helped as best she could, providing the trio with a variety of sharps so that they could draw red from their veins without the small scars that could potentially come from biting or slicing... though sometimes, Purity still liked to get bitten. It was good for her, so she said, and Esper James was ever so inclined to believe the pinkette on that front. EJ also told herself that it wasn''t selfish, even though it felt so indulgent to sink her fangs into Puri''s thigh and drink.


    The second reason Esper James had for going to Zofia''s lab was perhaps simpler, but also more complex. It was more straightforward, was an easy way to say it - but the process of it was less guaranteed. Esper James wanted to speak to Zofi, simple and clean. She wanted to pick the field researcher''s brain; she wanted to learn more about the girl with the steel ghoul-fangs, as best she could.


    Now, yes - Zofia was weird. She wasn''t just weird, in fact, she could be downright creepy. It made Esper James think quite soundly of ''chasers'', as they were often called in days of yore... that is, people who had an unhealthy, romanticized fascination with anyone outside the norm, traditionally in reference to transgender people. Zofia seemed every bit a coffin-jockey hearse-chaser as any other corpse club regular whose blood still pumped red and hot, and yet... that went against everything the Knights were supposed to uphold, right?


    Like, hell, Esper James often thought... Zofia had replaced her natural teeth with replicas of the same sort of needle fangs that the ghoulette''s own gums clung fast to. What would make a woman who allied herself with a group dedicated to the eradication of another, then try and emulate that second group''s physiology for cosmetic benefit? What was the end goal?


    As they spoke more and more with each passing day, the crab shell of Zofia''s introversion was pried away to let Esper James eat at the sweet, supple meat held therein.


    -


    Zofia sat on a wooden stool, leaned back against the counter of the lab''s main room. In her left hand, she held a cup of coffee - heavily creamed and sugared, a fair bit closer to a milkshake than the juice of the fragrant brown bean. It reminded Esper James, in a frankly comical way, of the sort of collegiate-age girls who made their morning coffee part of their entire personality: posting pictures all over their tAsT accounts, formulating ridiculously complex custom orders, railing themselves full of caffeine every morning from seven additional espresso shots to accompany their liquid fashion statement...


    In Zofia''s right hand, she held a cheese puff snack. One of many, in truth, but currently only that particular puff was held betwixt fore and middle finger. The nuns couldn''t smoke, at least not inside the convent, but Esper James could not help imagining the orange, oval-shaped corn fluff thing as the world''s most dairy-based cigarette. How foul. How disgusting. What would it be like to light and smoke a cheese puff?


    Gross, without a doubt, and then it would smell like burnt corn and cheese powder in the air, on your breath, and in your nostrils. Fucking awful. The blonde decided to stop thinking about all that, because it was frankly nasty, and she didn''t want to consider it with any more depth than she had already given the repulsive thought.


    Esper James used to smoke, a long time ago... to get those stimulant thrills, you know? The way it felt to get hit by that nicotine, especially after a long day of getting ordered around by Judas... it took the edge off. It was a thing she often missed, especially in recent days, but it had made her whole body smell horrible, so she had stopped. The vitality of a second-living ensured that she wouldn''t really be hurt by smoking, of course... but it was the principle of it, and the cloying scent of smoke on all her clothes and in her hair and breath, that had made her stop.


    Zofi didn''t seem like a smoker, anyways. Not cigarettes, anyways - Esper James could see, in another life, Zofia hunched over a bong in a darkened apartment, playing video games and eating pizza straight from the box. It made the ghoulette grin to imagine, and did a great job of wiping away the remaining vestiges of her exploration into the possibility of smoking a cheese puff.


    EJ, by contrast to Zofia, was sat on the floor. There weren''t any other chairs in the room, nor stools, and everything here was kept meticulously clean... so it felt okay, she told herself, to sit on the floor. Her back was leaned up against the hard surface of the counter which lined the inner wall of the room; her head was gingerly rested against the actual lip of the countertop, but that was a bit too rigid to really feel comfort from fully putting her weight against it.


    The two had been engaged in some casual shit-shooting; that is to say, they had just been talking mostly to talk. Discussing everything and anything, from who had been the top performer in a recent convent-wide shooting competition to what the dinner schedule was for Christmas evening. It was fried chicken, as an aside. After a year-long diet of simpler meals, less indulgent and fatty and more focused on protein and nutrients... the mother abbess thought that, for special nights like Christmas Eve, the nuns could all use something a bit more fun.


    Esper James wanted to pry ever deeper into the concept that was Zofia, however; she wanted to learn more about her, because she alone stood as an enigma amongst the sea of black habits and silent stares. EJ''s aims were not idle, nor were they unfeasible - and so lips set motion into sound, and sound formed words, which culminated into thought expressed.


    "Zofia? I''ve been, uh, wondering..." EJ started out slowly, deciding it best to play a bit coy with her soon-to-be interrogation of the brown-haired woman before her. Zofia seemed to snap from a haze, blinking a few times and giving her head a little shake to clear away lingering mental fog. That lone cheese puff was cast into the spiked abyss of Zofia''s maw, a virgin sacrificed for bountiful harvest to a great and terrible oral god; those cheese puffs didn''t know that they were the bountiful harvest, but their little processed corn brains would be none the wiser.


    Zofi''s chocolaty rings focused down onto Esper James, widened a bit from her recent alerting. "Huh? Yeah? Wassup, EJ? You want me to tell Est to grab you a drink or something? We''ve got bottled water in the fridge in the practical room, I''m sure you can drink normal water..." Zofia gestured to the practical observation room''s empty frame with her now-freed hand, the coffee clutching one bringing a ceramic rim to her lips for a sip.


    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    Est was in the practical observation room, playing chess with Purity. They had yet to relent, even a little bit, on their demand to follow Esper James around and ensure her safety - and to ensure an absence of deceit. It hadn''t really been as restrictive as Esper James may have feared, in all honesty... the trio liked to be near one another anyhow, and so the three of them all staying in the same places, and following the same schedule, was fairly convenient.


    EJ shook her head, tamping down an amused smile into little more than a casual, gentle grin. She continued again, then, once Zofia had returned to her relaxed stance on the stool - Esper James didn''t want to startle her, even if the chances of doing so were minute. "Zofi, I''ve been wondering for a while, yeah? Why, uh... Well, haha, a few things actually..." Another moment of silence, then. EJ wanted to keep things feeling as casual as possible, even though these questions had been hanging over her for a while. Now, she felt the need to put forth a surgical effort and excise their answers.


    "When I was all fucked up on blood and meat that first night... why''d you wanna be nice to me? Why say anything at all? Why not just let me fuckin'' suffer and get it over with?" Esper James continued to smile at that pleasant base level, never getting too enthusiastic nor dissatisfied with it. Anything more or less may have seemed as though she had some sort of ulterior motive.


    She did, of course, but she didn''t want Zofia to know that!


    Green met blue as the two locked eyes, both daring the other to back down or blink, neither taking the offer. Just as the silence was about to draw on into an awkward absence, Zofia cleared her throat and spoke up; Esper James could smell, though the pores of synthetic skin, blood rush to Zofi''s cheeks. Silicone couldn''t blush, but it sure could try.


    "Aha, ha, ha! Oh, EJ, don''t...! Don''t worry about that, haha...! Look, it''s, it''s simple, right? You and I... Eugh. Look, don''t tell anyone that I told you this; it''s how a lot of us think, but not all of us, so it''s kinda mixed who you share this with, yeah?" Zofi leaned forward then, taking a long, long drink on her coffee before setting the now-empty mug onto the counter beside her. She drew in a deep breath to steel herself, shutting her eyes tight, and then opening them anew as her breath released.


    "You and I? The second living and the first living? We''re... We''re not really that different, in a way. Like, in a physical sense, we are. We''re so fucking different - shit, sorry, profanit- ahh, damn it, I-...!" She stumbled over herself so quickly and consistently that Esper James couldn''t help but giggle a bit, Zofia''s accidental cursing coming across as a dated comic bit played out in real life. It was amusing for the novelty of it, if nothing else. Zofia drew in another breath and huffed it free before beginning again.


    "...but! When it comes to the stuff outside the meat? The thoughts, the feelings, the soul? We aren''t so dissimilar!" She found a moment of play then, putting on a more dramatic tone to her voice, as if a villain providing the hero with a final monologue. "We aren''t so different, you and I, Esper James..." A giggle for the both of them! It cleared the air and the tension, and set both women at ease. Zofi''s shoulders relaxed visibly.


    "N-No, hahaha! No, no, really, we... we aren''t that different. Like... I''m mostly made of minerals from the earth. Silicone, steel, copper, latex, silver, carbon fiber... I don''t actually know how many of those come out of the ground, but you get what I mean!" Zofi gave EJ a moment, then, to consider what she had said and respond. With a gentle ''mhm, mhm'' and a few curt, quick nods, Zofi received her acknowledgement.


    "And you! You''re made of meat, yeah, but not normal meat! Not the same sort of meat you were born with! We''re both little transhumanist freak nightmares, made with weird tech in countries that love how much they hate each other and hate how much they love each other! And, like... it''s..." The energy drained from Zofia''s voice and tone, trickling away like meltwater. It ran in rivulets down her soul and dripped onto the floor, wet and weary, leaving her in a somber state from then on.


    "It''s not like you chose to be what you are. Someone else assigned it to you. I''ve been there, too, you know? This whole ''crusade'' thing, it''s... It''s a way for people back home to show off clout. My parents signed me up just to earn the Church''s favor, so we''d get favorable tariffs. Ha-ha, secular society in theory... not in reality." Zofia''s eyes dropped down, gaze running from Esper James''s face to her hips to her feet, though the ghoulette''s body was hardly Zofi''s actual focus.


    Esper James had so many things she wanted to say, but in this moment, she knew damn well she was better off shutting the fuck up and listening the fuck up. More nodding, more ''mhm''ing, more rapt attention - not only did Esper James want to hear more, she also wanted Zofia to feel comfortable in telling her more. She wanted to give this creepy girl with brown hair and fangs exactly the outlet she needed.


    Zofia continued unabated, encouraged by Esper James''s outward willingness to act as the vent by which Zofia''s emotional steam could find release. "I used to be a college student, you know? A nice college, but still! My parents... My dad, he''s a regional governor in Poland. I won''t say where, you won''t fucking know the name anyways... but he''s in the political game, yeah? A-And this, this crusade comes up..." She filled her lungs, long and slow; when they were emptied, a great wind of bottled emotion followed behind.


    "So no more college, Zofi! Get out and kill people, Zofi! Replace huge chunks of your body with military tech, Zo-fi-i-i~!" Her right hand balled into a fist, winding up to slam the counter - she stopped herself before the potentially devastating motion was made, but she obviously wanted damn well to see it through. Her pupils raised back up to Esper James, then, and a sad smile came over her lips.


    "I was a straight A student. Was gonna be a biochemical engineer. Lived in a swanky group-house with eight of my best friends - it was pretty fast and loose and fun, never really official about what any of us were to one another other than that we liked being around one another. Pretty... pretty bohemian lifestyle, haha. And then, one day, I''m getting shipped off to the UNAC with a bunch of other girls." A synthetic tear was bidden to form, and it rolled down her face to drop from her chin. The sound it made as it hit the tile floor was minute, but it could have been the crash of a cymbal for all the weight it held.


    "Ha ha ha... so now, here I am. Doing whatever I can to... I dunno. Not get punished. Not get noticed. Whatever I can to stay out of the mother abbess''s way, and seem like my heart is into all this, but in reality... We''re soldiers in someone else''s shadow war, you know? I don''t hate you, Esper James. I don''t hate the second living at all. You''re a person, just like me. W-We should get along."


    Now it all made sense. So much of it, honestly... From Zofia''s first reassurance, to the way the other nuns treated EJ when she had been crying in the halls, to when she had woken anew in the infirmary. Esper James could have - should have - guessed at this explanation, given that night with Est in the factory, but... but propaganda had put its roots so deeply into her mind that it was hard to divorce the idea of these nuns from the cruel killers she had been told they were. At the end of the day, though?


    They were all just people in a war that was bigger than them, like Zofi said. Few of them had any real conviction behind their actions. Few of them ever wanted to see the others die.


    Zofia broke down, then, sobbing softly and gently but with a restrained, strangled sort of emotion. EJ could practically feel how badly the other woman wanted to absolutely sink into the depths of her own despair - to howl aloud, to claw at her skin, to rip away everything that the infamous ''they'' had done to her. Everything they had made her do. God, EJ knew exactly what it was like, to realize you were working for the bad guy.


    Esper James put both palms to the floor, using them to scooch closer to Zofia. Once in range, the little flesh-tearing post-cannibal struck: her arms went up and out, wrapping around Zofi''s waist as EJ''s cheek laid itself against the nun''s leg. It wasn''t the best hug in the world, but it was better than nothing. By God, it was so fucking much better than nothing. Zofia could barely bring herself to respond, her own right arm going about EJ''s head to hold her in return; the nun''s left hand was too cheese powder covered to be apt for an embrace.


    They stayed like that for some time. The sound of a third mouth, and soon after that a fourth mouth, breathing joined the fray in the back of Esper James''s perception... but that was fine. It was fine for Purity and Est to see Zofi cry, EJ thought. At least this time it wasn''t the blonde whose tears were being shed. The other two women must''ve only been peeking in to check what was going on; and, since it was hardly a moment either of them wanted to interrupt, neither did. They returned to their chess game silently and tactfully, letting Zofia and Esper James have as long as the pair of them needed for this release.


    Zofi put away her pain in due time; it wasn''t gone nearly as quickly as it had come, but still, it found the door when it was good and ready. The steel-toothed researcher leaned down to give Esper James a firm, almost sloppy kiss on the forehead, still sobbing in those last few moments after the kiss was given. She spoke again as her body pulled away and back up into a straightened posture, right arm offering one final squeeze to Esper James.


    "H-Hey, ah... Thanks, EJ. I... I know it''s probably fucking scary for you to be here, right? Thinking that you''re only tolerated because of what you can do for us? I... I''d like you to know that, well... we don''t hate you. None of us do. You being here, being so sweet, being so cute with your girlfriends... y-you''re doing so much to change the minds of those who are told to hate you. Please, for our sakes and yours..."


    She sniffled, sorrowful expression breaking once again into a fractured sort of smile, like broken glass forming an approximation of her own reflection.


    "Please, keep it up. Stay strong. You''re... You''re doing so very fucking good, Esper James. Thank you for being here f-for us..."

 Act Four (Ch. 79) - Planned Obsolescence; or, Blood Visions

    It was a bitter sort of sweetness to hear that from Zofia, Esper James had to admit. All her life she''d been told she''d been ''one of the good ones'', but that sort of thing could never be anything but a backhanded compliment, she figured. To receive that again, but for a whole new reason? For an entirely new purpose, from an entirely new sort of people? It set her heart to a black murmuring, a quiet little tremble which yearned to speak up, but which yet knew Zofi was doing her best. Maybe the other girl just wasn''t good with words?


    Zofia sniffled again, nose crinkling for a moment as she looked to the floor; she found new strength to speak as the silence between the two grew longer, raising her head to address the blonde directly. "Hey, E-EJ, I ah... I have something I w-wanna tell you. Only you, though. Can... Can you keep a secret? Between us, please? Please?"


    The desperation which lined those words was the edge of a vorpal blade, cutting straight through EJ''s jabberwocky heart. The quickly-assembled defenses she''d been forming were sent to ribbons almost immediately, and in their place, all the ghoul felt she could do is hear Zofia out. The blonde felt her face droop into an expression of pained compassion, brows furrowing and lips downturned; she reached out to put a hand on Zofia''s knee, giving her a pat and a squeeze.


    "Yeah, Zofi? Here, lemme... Lemme scooch closer. I know we''ve got some ears in the other room, so... Maybe let''s just, ah... Here-..." She cut the rest of that sentence short as she used her stretched legs and free hands to push-pull along the tile, black-clad butt sliding against the hard surface below. She ended her traversal now just beside Zofia''s legs, EJ''s own split wide so that Zofi was squarely between them.


    Zofi giggled sadly at the display, shaking her head and shutting her eyes for a moment so she might fully drink in the otherwise somewhat silly maneuver by her blonde confidante. The nun leaned in to match her new secret keeper, hunching down to be closer to Esper James''s ears and to cut down on required volume. The two looked, by all accounts of stance, like a couple of high schoolers getting ready to talk gossip.


    Esper James waited patiently for Zofia to begin. And waited... and waited... it was only once EJ turned her head to look up at Zofi, eyes quizzical, that Zofia realized that maybe she should actually start. The timid brunette gasped audibly, eyes widening for a split second as she realized her mistake. "Oh, fuck, sorry...! I- Ah, dang, let me... Let me go, then. Here."


    A deep breath. A steeling of heart and flesh, of soul and mind. Preparation for a blow that may never truly fall. Zofi''s chest raised as her lungs went taut - and then fell as breath was released in a single consecrated wind, holy air from holy lungs, freed now in makeshift confessional. "Esper James, I... I want to be... I-I..." A smacking of lips and tossing of tongue followed, words in hot pursuit though; the words did eventually reach their target, rolling from Zofia''s mouth as hailstones from the mouth of God.


    "I''m gonna leave this place. I''m... I''m not cut out for this life. When they said they''d m-make me a field researcher, I assumed there''d be a little more field time... but..." She swallowed back words of vitriol and guilt, the stone in the reluctant nun''s throat causing her neck to bob gently. The admission continued without time for the initial revelation to sink in; no time for EJ to respond, not yet.


    "...but I''m stuck in this lab almost every day. They haven''t sent any other sort of ''researcher'' to the convent, and so I''m stuck up inside constantly, living this life of monastic chastity and reverence when it''s n-never... it''s never what I wanted. I never wanted to come to Vitus. I never wanted to go for months without seeing the fucking sun, even through Vitus gloom. I... I want out. Forever."


    This was a sentiment that struck Esper James like a brick loaded into a cannon, though at the same time, that brick''s core was pillow stuffing. It was jarring to hear one of the nuns wanting to break free and give up on this life... but at the same time, Esper James could find little reason to think ill of the plan. Zofia wasn''t wrong to want to break free of a life that oppressed and restricted her; she wasn''t at fault for the actions of others, nor was she obligated to accept the hand she''d been dealt.


    It was a grim reminder of Esthrielle and EJ''s first few conversations, too - the way that other people played chess with individual lives, moving the nuns, and the second-living, and the populations of all nations as pawns on the board. They had each been assigned a role in life that was barely of their own choosing - to then condemn them to go through with it, day in and day out, and simply play their position dutifully? It sickened the heart and blighted the soul to consider.


    Esper James squeezed Zofi''s knee again, eyes ever more attentive, mind ever more focused. It wasn''t yet time to reply, EJ thought; Zofi had more to say. This emotion had long been corked, and now that the bottle was open, Zofia''s champagne trauma spilt free to the carpet below. The figurative carpet. The lab was tiled, EJ''s squished ass reminded her.


    Tears renewed their tenancy in Zofi''s eyes, beading at the corners and trickling in twin rivers of bubbled-up feeling, but the nun didn''t allow herself to collapse. Not here, not now, not yet. She continued then, seeing that EJ didn''t have reprimand for her; it was, in its own way, bittersweet for the Polish girl to be allowed reprieve by the very sort of person she was supposed to hate. "Eugh... God, f-fuck, sorry, ah... Ahem... Ahem...!"


    Zofia cleared her throat before continuing, feeling her lips curl into the sort of smile one only wears on the gallows. "I want to die, you know? Like... Every day I wake up, and my entire life is dictated to me! I do what I''m told, I listen to orders, I eat, sleep, piss when they tell me to! I-If there is a God up there, one who wants us to enjoy life in this world he''s built for us, then this isn''t the life he''d want from us!"


    She swallowed again, her voice raising in volume for a moment before EJ gave her a pushing-down moment to remind her not to speak up too much. Zofi nodded, thankful for the guiding hand, and the absence of chastisement. "So...! I''m gonna escape. I''m gonna go out there, i-into Vitus... I''ll join up with a resistance group, yeah? We work with them sometimes... the Revenants, yeah? Some girl, Kell... She comes here sometimes, speaks with the mother abbess. I''ll find her, get a gun, get the closest thing to a normal life I can ever live... H-Haha, ha..." Zofia''s eyes began to cloud as her focus on the material was replaced with a daydream.


    Esper James was shocked for the second time tonight - though, just like the first time, the initial voltage was softened by rubber gloves and boots. Kell? The fucking Kell who had helped her and Purity, who had housed her, Purity, and Est, and who hadn''t seemed to be the leader of any sort of fucking rebel group? The Kell who knew what to do when shit hit the fan, but didn''t seem well-connected enough to be working with foreign groups to unseat Tsang? It was quite a bit for EJ to take in in such a short time; unluckily for her, Zofi kept going.


    "Fucking sad, right? Pathetic? Some l-loser college student girl gets scooped up and shipped off to kill people in some foreign land... And once she''s there, her best idea of a normal, perfect life is to f-fucking desert her post, become a revolutionary, and hopefully die in the line of duty having actually at least lived a little?" The question was rhetorical, but EJ felt the siren''s song to answer Zofia.


    Of course, whatever she would''ve said would have been the most patronizing slop she could formulate - all those talks with her company-assigned therapist had really tainted her ability to let people vent. Her first instinct was to say ''Oh, no, Zofi, you''re not pathetic at all! Don''t put yourself down!'' or some other appeasing drivel, rather than address the core of the Polish girl¡¯s actual problem.


    Zofia fell into the deep pit then, her emotional turmoil reaching up to catch her and cradle her in its inky, dreadful arms. She did something somewhere between a cry and a laugh, sobbing and smirking and chuckling and weeping all at once. She didn''t look at Esper James, thankfully; EJ wasn''t sure she could have held strong, had Zofia looked her in the eye in that moment. They might have both shattered then and there, Prince Rupert''s drops flicked about the tail by societal oppression.


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    Esper James scooched that much closer, opting for the nonverbal route of comfort. Zofia''s legs pressed between EJ''s own, then to her stomach, then chest, then finally her face - specifically, the ghoulette''s cheek. This cheek was rested gently upon Zofi''s knees, while the Vitus inhabitant''s arms were thrown tenderly around the other woman''s black-clad thighs in some approximation of a hug. It wasn''t the best embrace, but it was more than enough.


    "Zofia, I... I don''t think you''re pathetic. You''re making do with the world you''ve been forced into... Something I know I know pretty fucking well at this point, I''d figure. We''ve all got struggles, and while yours may be different, they aren''t any lesser than anyone else''s. I mean, fuck, I worked for thirty fucking years for the same people who put me - put all of the UNAC - into this shithole! Vitus only exists cause of these people, and I helped them! So... So I get it. I get being forced into a place in life that you don''t really wanna be in, and..."


    ''...and your only options are to give in or break free'' is what she would have capped that sentence with, if she had the strength of will to even put the words out. Sadly, she was too caught up in the sway of everything pouring out of herself and out of Zofia - enticed into silence by the relief and comfort of nonverbal nature. Sometimes, to choose not to speak said more than words ever could have.


    They sat like that for a while. No one ever counted moments while crying, unless they were crying in the freezer during their shift; needless to say, this was pretty far from a supermarket freezer, and only Zofia was really ''working'' in any sense. Esper James would have surprised herself if she hadn''t been too immersed in the moment; realizing she wasn''t crying, realizing that she hadn''t been taken from her own stability by Zofia''s own pain would have been a shock. She was too distracted to consider it, however. Oh well.


    Eventually the nun finished her grieving, leaning down just a bit further into a shrimp position so she could return Esper James''s embrace. She gave the ghoulette as great and big a hug as the angle allowed, squishing pale skin into black-clad knees; ebon-clothed arms swaddled golden hair and gentle unlife, returning comfort as best they could. This, too, lingered until there was a knock on the doorframe to the practical observation room.


    Zofi broke up and way instantly, mechanized motion allowing her to return to a full, straight-backed sit without a moment''s notice. Esper James wasn''t nearly so controlled in her strength and reactions, and so she simply opted to remain there, caught in the act of hugging another woman about the thighs. Not like she was unfamiliar with that sort of thing, though the context may have changed.


    Purity offered the two women a gentle smile, one that dripped with that same cotton-candy sugariness which she seemed to so often embody. She didn''t speak; rather, she strode out towards the two with slow, measured steps, hips swaying subconsciously in a habit all too hard to break. When she met them, she remained silent - but she did drop down, knees bending and rear extended, to be somewhere between Zofia and EJ''s respective heights.


    Her big, beautiful eyes cast their focus up to Zofia, then down to Esper James. She saw the tears, the disheveled hair from restrained sobs... she could feel the tension in the room without even a hint of doubt. Words were, again, unnecessary. She put out an arm for either of them and gathered up the other women into a singular embrace, letting out a soft sound of contentedness and comfort as Zofia fell out of her straitlaced facade.


    The blonde and brunette did anything but resist the pinkette''s offer of touch and closeness. Before shutting her eyes to fully accept the gesture, EJ looked towards the door to the other room and saw Est, smiling sadly and holding close to the doorframe. She gave EJ a single nod and blew her a quick kiss; EJ smiled in response, expression soaked in stoic sadness, before letting her vision be null and sinking into the hug.


    A few moments into the hug, Purity spoke up. Her words were a whisper, though they made Esper James tingle as the secretary''s ears were graced by warm, loving breath. "Hey, you two... It had been quiet in here for a while, haha, so... Est and I wanted to check it out, make sure you two were okay. I can see that you''re not. Don''t... Don''t say anything. No need to tell me why, or what''s up, I just wanted to come squeeze you both. You''re lovely women. I''m sorry you''re having a rough time."


    The hug was garnished by a quick squeeze, pressing EJ''s face against Purity''s chest and Zofia''s head into the club darling''s collarbone. Zofi began to cry again, her sobs more true and now free of anything close to a laugh or cackle; Purity offered soothing shushes and coos in response, turning her head to gentle layer smooches on Zofia''s forehead.


    "Oh, Zofi... We''re here for you, whatever''s going on. I promise. You''ve been so good to us since we first got here... You''re really sweet, you know that? Such a sweet girl... and I don''t think the other women are nice enough to you. I hope one of them wasn''t mean to you..." More hot breath, more saccharine water for the others to drown in. Somehow, even after all these weeks without living in her own apartment, Purity still smelled like bubblegum candy and sweet pink and red fruits. Esper James could have dove headfirst into that aroma.


    The three held that hug for a little longer until Zofi finally trailed from outright bawling to sniffles and hiccups. She nodded her vague thanks to Purity, flashing those steely fangs in an awkward smile to show her appreciation; the smile was returned in kind, Purity''s perfect pearly whites displayed confidently and with great outward empathy.


    "Th-Thanks, Purity... Thanks both of you, a-actually. I''ve... I''ve been pretty lonely here, truth be told. None of the other girls really like me, and I mean... I can''t blame them, I''m not exactly like they are, but... Phew. Th-Thanks. Here, it''s dinner soon, yeah? I''ll let you three go off and get ready... I think it''s something good tonight, we found a new butchery in town that''ll take our money. Should be something nice..." Zofi was speaking just to speak, it was obvious, but that was fine. Whatever helped her calm down, EJ thought.


    Purity nodded, going to give Zofia one final kiss on the forehead before helping Esper James to stand. Once EJ was up, she was instantly dragged into a solo hug with her much taller lover - once again, face met breast, and Esper James breathed deep to get that perfumed aroma of her lover stained into every inch of her airways. Cotton candy... pink fruit, red berries... body oil and flesh and the tinge of blood-beneath-skin... and the soft undertone of diesel. Purity always was a bit diesel-y, too, for whatever reason.


    Puri squished her girlfriend once before releasing her and turning towards Est and the door. "Alright, ladies - let''s do what Zofi suggested, yeah? Dinner soon, and something really good, hopefully! I hope there''s veggies this time, hahaha~!" Purity''s lips formed a smile that no one else in the room could seem to even broach, much less replicate - soft full lips and immaculate ivory formed in an expression of knowing, honest joy. EJ couldn''t even bring herself to smile with her teeth, though she did turn her head back to Zofi and give her some kind of grin before they walked away. Zofi returned it with false mirth, eyes crinkled from fake joy and genuine grief in equal measure.


    Purity didn''t let Esper James slip free of a guiding arm as they walked, and as they passed Esthrielle, the Italian went to flank the blonde and echo the gesture from the other side. The door was opened, passed, and then closed - and once they were in the hall, Purity spoke up. "Esper James... naughty, naughty, making that poor girl cry. Hahaha...~ No, but really, you ok babe? You both seemed really..." Purity trailed off for a moment as she considered how to word it - Esthrielle jumped in in her place.


    "Shaken up? Torn apart? I mean, I know we''ve been going through it a lot recently, there''s plenty to be all fucked up about, but like... We''re here if you need to talk to anyone, you know?" It was Est''s turn to offer EJ a one-armed squeeze, going to lean her head down to rest atop Esper James''s as they walked. EJ''s lower lip trembled as she considered what they were saying, before shaking her head.


    "I''m good, loves. Just... Some heavy thoughts tonight, you know? I''ve, uh... I''ve been thinking, you know? Overthinking, probably, haha... Like always, but..." She took in a deep breath, then. It was her turn to steel herself; it was her turn to gird herself, to steel her fragile heart''s defenses just in case of critical error. A complication would surely mean she''d be in for a long night, once they got back to their dorm.


    Surely.


    The trio turned down a hallway, heading towards the showers. They''d been here long enough now that Esper James had started to recognize a lot of the hallways, at least the ones they went down frequently; this one was a daily occurrence, after all, and so she remembered the little details that made it count. Besides, she could feel the humidity in the air - and, distantly, hear the cascade of water droplets against hard tile surfaces and bared, soft flesh. She decided to take the leap, then, to finish her thought.


    "...I think we''ve gotta leave. Maybe not soon, but we''ve gotta. This life... it''s a gilt cage. We can''t be here forever, even if it''s safe... it''s no way to live. I miss the city." That sentiment may well have been a pallet of bricks slung through a thousand thousand shopfront windows, with the way Est''s head jerked to look down at the blonde. Purity''s own response wasn''t nearly so volatile... but she certainly dampened her smile and straightened her back, pulling Esper James into her own body with more insistence. She spoke after a moment, voice solemn but weighty.


    "I agree. The Knights have been... shockingly good to us, but we aren''t made for this place. I''ll text Kell after dinner, let her know."

 Act Four (Ch. 80) - Vera Blue; or, To A Raven, To A Dove

    As soon as they got to the showers, Esthrielle put on a face so sour it could have played substitute for lemon juice. She pulled her women aside in the changing area, even though no one was nearby - the showers were sparsely populated at the moment, and no one would be near to listen in on a spoken conversation. In theory.


    "What the fuck do you mean we need to leave? Huh? What do you fucking mean, ''we aren''t made for this place''? We get three meals a day! A soft bed to sleep on! Clothes washed and showers provided! Hell, they let us charge our phones! The convent may as well be a hotel stay, given where we''ve been living!" Esthrielle''s scowl was the edge of a woodcutter''s axe, brutal and made for hewing protest like timber. Esper James was, admittedly, cowed - she''d already pissed off Est and Purity not too long ago, and so seeing the Easterner upset...


    Well, it made her feel inclined to back down, despite whatever she may have been feeling. Purity, however, was not so easily bowed; she was a lone oak with bark of steel before Est''s lumberjack indignance, dulling her blade and the potency of her rhetoric. "Well, Est, think about it this way. Luca''s gone back to Italy. The mother abbess is... well, a lot of things, but I''d say she''s ''tolerant at best'' when it comes to us."


    Purity gained momentum as she spoke, dialogue pouring forth with a confidence that she hadn''t really shown in a while - the confidence of a woman who knew how to use her words as a weapon, and how to get what she wanted. What she wanted, apparently, wasn''t to be found within the walls of the convent. Esper James clung to the pinkette as she continued her argument, the blonde finding comfort in her tallest girlfriend''s support.


    "And more than that, testing is done, pretty much. All they do nowadays is run normal diagnostics, make sure EJ''s body is doing what''s expected of it. Eventually? I wouldn''t be surprised if the abbess found a reason to kick us out, say they didn''t need us anymore. Luca''s not here to stop her. So? We leave of our own volition, while we still have the chance."


    Esthrielle''s indignance became outright disbelief at what she was hearing - but she didn''t immediately offer a rebuttal. Purity, for her part, put on a smug, cocksure expression that could only be described as a look of superiority. This did nothing to quell Esthrielle''s anger, of course - and the longer she considered it, the more riled up she became, until finally an outburst poured forth.


    "So we go back out on the streets, hide away in some abandoned building, and get Kell to fucking ferry us food every now and then?! Huh?! Is that really gonna be better for us than staying here? Even if she does kick us out, we can...We can use the additional time to think of a plan! A better one than going back to the fucking factory district and eating fast food until we die!" Esthrielle''s voice nearly hit levels enough to be audible to the women showering; she had to stop and take a breath, reminding herself that they were trying to be subtle.


    Purity closed her eyes and shook her head, her smile growing ever so slightly more smug. When she re-opened them, the LED display had gone from standard blue to the hearts she so adored. "No. See, I''ve been thinking about this for a while - ever since EJ got put in the infirmary. I''ve... got some, uh, contacts, we''ll say. One of them will definitely house us. I just know it."


    Puri''s chest puffed up and her back straightened as she kept her train of thought rolling, emboldened by her own supposed cleverness. "See, when Kell initially took us to the industrial district, it was out of desperation. And once we were there? Our escape was still really fresh in corpsec''s minds, so Product Reclamation would have had so many eyes on suspicious activity in town they''d have noticed us trying to go somewhere else. But if we go there straight away... we''ll be fine!"


    Almost stereotypically for a person putting the coup de gras on an argument, Purity put her fists on her hips and inclined her chin a touch towards the sky. For all the bluster and bravado she was exuding in that moment, her plan may as well have been foolproof. To her, at the very least.


    Esthrielle''s mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. It did this a few times, Purity smugging down her nose at the Italian all the while. Esper James, by contrast to the two women having their face off, simply clutched at Purity''s habit like a wayward child. Esthrielle was hitting a boiling point, though - EJ could tell just by looking at her that she was starting to get fed up with this whole little back-and-forth. The ghoulette interjected before either of the others could break the silence.


    "Er, ahh... Hey, l-let''s... Let''s talk about this back in the room, yeah? Just... get some time to think. I... I won''t lie, being cooped up down here is starting to drain me a little - it''s nice, Est, you''re right, but also..." Also EJ missed the sky? She missed not being underground? She missed the sound of traffic, and the smell of anything other than frankincense and myrrh, and not feeling like she was being watched every moment of the day?


    Guh. She couldn''t just say those things - not now, at least. They''d push Est over the top. Esper James was... was willing to tell Esthrielle she could stay here, honestly. She knew Est had only really known two lives: Venice, and the convent. To be back in this place of security, stability, and comfort... and be told that it was coming time to leave again?


    The ghoulette couldn''t blame Esthrielle at all for wanting to stay.


    And yeah, EJ continued to herself, thoughts ricocheting off the walls of her brainpan. Yeah, it was dumb to leave. Objectively, it wasn''t the safest thing for them... but, Purity made a good point, too. The mother abbess was... well? She had her moments of being oddly, uncharacteristically nice... but those sat more poorly with EJ every time they showed their face. Why was the mother abbess being kind to her at all? She had been so against the trio staying there at first... but then, she had suddenly, and without warning, turned a new leaf. What was that all about?


    Not that EJ would ever get a chance to ask her. Even if the two women were locked in a room together, EJ knew she would never have had the strength or confidence to ask; to broach such a topic to a woman like the abbess was akin to putting one''s hand in the mouth of a lion. Foolish, to say the least.


    Purity lowered her figurative weapons, and her head, at EJ''s prompting - Est, too, took another deep breath and rubbed at her eyes. The Knight nodded and began to undress, still visibly bitter but now trying to suppress it; Purity, too, began to doff her habit. She helped Est with hers, even, and the other woman didn''t try and shy away or lash out at the help. Once Esper James''s two lovers were finished stripping down, they both assisted the blonde in tandem. Soon, the trio was ready for a shower.


    By the time they had crossed the threshold into the tiled washroom area, they were practically the only occupants. Their only company was a single nun, with short black hair and intense makeup, who had just arrived from the dressing room on the other side of the shower - she was scrubbing hard at her skin, doing her best to be freed of the ebon mascara, eyeliner, and eyeshadow which her flesh bore.


    The washing began, then, without delay - but with plenty of meandering. None of the three of them were particularly keen to clean off and be freed of the showers'' warmth and wetness and humidity... and they certainly weren''t itching to go back to the room and finish their earlier discussion. Purity, for all her confidence in her own plan, seemed plenty happy to linger in the shower booth''s aqueous downpour for as long as she could bargain with herself for.


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    The pinkette fell into her role, once again, of helping her loves tend to their own washing - lathering her hands with body wash and layering them in it, Esthrielle first and then EJ. She helped them apply it, and then let them wash it free on their own; in the meantime, she gave her own physique a once-over with the scented, cleansing goop. Was it right to call it goop, EJ thought? Surely, whatever company made it wouldn''t want it to be referred to as ''goop''...


    The former secretary''s mind wandered as the trio all washed themselves, each lady going one at a time so that they might linger there that much longer. It wandered to the surface - to Vitus, and its people, and what lay in store for them on the outside. First things first, there was Kell. It had been some time since they''d spoken with Kell... and Esper James hoped she was okay.


    They had sort of left her with only a ''thanks for risking your neck for us'' note and nothing more. EJ had been longing to apologize to Kell ever since they''d arrived, really... though it was one of those things she only thought about around dawn. Being tired made most people sentimental and sad, and Esper James Price-Wynnfield was absolutely no different. But then, there was more to think about when it came to Kell than just a potential apology.


    Zofia said Kell sometimes came here - to the convent, to speak with the mother abbess. That was fucked up, right? ''The enemy of my enemy is my friend'' and all that, sure, but... working with the Knights, as a member of the second-living herself? Shit, how''d she ever manage to get an in with the Easterners, much less stomach cooperation?


    Tsang was how, of course. In the face of an overwhelming evil, sometimes two opposing forces must band together to fight as one. At least, that was how EJ justified it to herself - and in her mind, she figured it sounded pretty profound. So why not? It made about as much sense as any other explanation the ghoulette could conjure up. So, Kell and the Knights joined forces now and then to stick it to Tsang with their combined efforts. That... made sense.


    But then, Kell being in a position of influence - a position of power - was new, too. Was that why Kell had been so damn ready to go when Puri and EJ had needed an escape, that day with the Product Reclamation officer? If she was really some kind of rebel leader, then of course she''d have all the outs and escapes she''d ever need set up in advance... but still. It was quite the coincidence, that she and her group (the Revenants, Zofia had called them) had bunked up in Kehler Complex. Hell, Esper James had never even met them until that day she literally ran into Kell. She''d never seen them around the place, either.


    Why?


    Eugh. It was a lot, and certainly more than she wanted to think about in the world''s most tense shower session. EJ looked up to Esthrielle and Purity, trying to gauge how they were feeling - it had been long enough since their little dressing room confrontation that they''d had time to cool off, she thought. A glance at either of them revealed that, yes, they had calmed down a fair bit; Est was still a bit stiff, EJ could tell, and Purity was less... whatever the fuck Purity had been, back there.


    What was her deal, anyways? Sure, every relationship had its little spats here and there, a little bit of biting back and forth with verbal teeth to nip at one another''s hearts and minds... but Purity had been standoffish, and way more confrontational than usual. She had almost seemed like she wanted to argue with Esthrielle. What the hell had that been about, EJ wondered.


    Purity noticed Esper James''s attention, then, and turned her head down to face EJ head on. "What''s up, babe? Water too hot? You want help washing your hair? Haha, you''re short enough that it''s pretty easy for me to get at... I can help, if you''d want." Pearly whites flashed in a dazzling display, then, framed by soft and full lips of rosebud pink. EJ felt, not for the first time, a flicker in her heart at the pinkette''s expression - she got flustered immediately, and could sense the rising heat of a blush form upon her cheeks.


    She nodded. Of course she nodded - how could she not? How could she deny this lovely, sweet, gentle, tender woman''s offered touch and kindness? EJ leaned her head down a slight degree, crown of her scalp now aimed up at the seductress. "Yeah, please... thanks, Puri. I... I don''t have trouble with it, you know, but like... I mean, aha... I''m never gonna turn down an offer for help, haha..."


    Purity chuckled, rolling her eyes even as her torso turned to grab the shampoo bottle from atop the nearest divider''s product rack. The bottle was opened with a soft pop, the shampoo was deposited into one of Purity''s palms, and then that same shampoo found itself being gently worked into EJ''s crown and cornsilk-hued locks.


    "Nah, nah, don''t worry about it, cutie! I like doing this. I... like feeling helpful, and like I''m taking good care of you two. I took a test online one time - acts of service are one of my love languages. So, y''know, getting to help you two get dressed or undressed, clean yourselves in the shower, get comfy in bed... Hehe, it makes me feel good about us. I love you two." The sincerity with which she said those things, especially the last sentence, made Esper James''s knees weak. She held back a gentle whimper from the sensation, taking time to put herself back together before responding.


    "I love you too, Purity...! I- I really, really love you. I love both of you. You two... god, if neither of you had come into my life... Haha, wow, I can''t even imagine where I''d be. Still at Tsang, probably, busting my ass and getting pushed around by-" She nearly said Judas, but the flesh eater stopped herself. Judas was correct, of course; Judas was who would have been pushing her around. But here and now, professing her love for Purity and Esthrielle? Judas had no place here. EJ didn''t want to think of the vampire at all, much less in such an otherwise lovely moment.


    EJ instead opted to trail off, allowing Judas to remain as implication, not stated truth. Purity nodded but didn''t press the issue or continue the statement, simply basking in the glow of Esper James''s sugary response. Suddenly, an arm put itself around EJ''s back - and another, nearly identical arm found its way about Purity''s lower back. The synthetic flesh of it still gave EJ a gentle thrill whenever it was applied to her bare skin.


    "I love you two goobers too, you know? I''m... Sorry for getting heated with you back in the dressing room. I just... It''s been so nice to just be here, be safe, get good food regularly... augh. Fuck, I''m... Guh. Sorry. I''m sorry, I''ll leave it till we''re back in the room, just... I want you two to be safe." Est''s voice broke towards the end of her monologue, fracturing in the same way a sidewalk cracks from cycles of heat and chill. She bowed her head in self-imposed shame at bringing the topic of their departure back up.


    Her self-disparagement was dispersed by a return of the one-armed hug from both parties, with Purity leaning down a tad to kiss her gently upon the cheek. Following the kiss, Purity put her face to the side of Est''s, nuzzling at her and making a sing-song hum to accompany the action. "Hmm-hmm-hmm~ Don''t worry about it, Est. I get it, I really do. I promise, I know someone who can keep us safe and secure, okay? We''ll be fine. We can get Kell to come nearby and get us, and then... then she can take us to my friend''s place, and we''ll go from there. We can do work around her house to pay off room and board, or something. I''ll work it out. I promise."


    Purity pulled away a few inches, then offering her tan-toned sweetheart a playful wink. Est returned a smile, though it was heavily dyed with bashfulness - she, too, blushed to match EJ. Purity seemed to have that effect on people, EJ thought to herself... and hell if the pink-haired princess didn''t often put that sort of reaction into the ghoulette, too.


    The shower finished up after a bit longer, the three''s individual moods restored and their spirits invigorated by shared love and closeness. Walking through the halls felt much more like drifting, riding out that cloud of confidence which their union provided - and when they threw open the door to their dorm, EJ rushed over to the bed they had been sharing to leap up and flop onto it. She began, immediately, to shimmy out of her habit.


    Purity laughed aloud at her smallest lover''s antics, walking over to join her in a much more performative flopping action. Finally came Est, who stayed a moment more near the door to ensure it shut completely before scurrying over to join the other two ladies. Up onto the bed she went, laughing all the while, and the three then fell into a group giggle session. It was lovely, Esper James mused to herself, how quickly their moods had shifted... and, perhaps, a period of snuggling would make the hard decision to come that much easier.


    Hopefully it would.

 // End of Act Four // (Ch. 81) - I Am Truth; or, Die Screaming

    As they snuggled, Esper James felt something grow inside her... in her chest at first, but then, her gut and arms and legs and throat. It tingled, it thrilled, and it set her entire body alight. It surprised her, bewildered her... it was so uncharacteristic she began to wonder, then, if she had been drugged. Had something been slipped into her food? No, it would have been more immediate if it had...


    She was, undeniably and unexplainably, excited. She wasn''t just excited - fuck, as the minutes whiled away, she was bursting at the seams with energy. It had been so long since they''d been out of the convent, she felt... so long since they''d walked city streets and mingled with real people. Those bitter experiences of modern life she had once taken for granted? The awful people on the sidewalks, the leers of men and women from shadowy alleyways, the drunken fumblers on the bus or subway?


    God, now, she missed them - if only for the normalcy they had established in her mind in the last however-many years since she''d died.


    She missed the midnight air - missed the scent of standing bars in those alleys off of main street, the butcheries that sold processed slop fried in gutter oil, the smog that burned her lungs so imperceptibly that they felt strange in this new, purified atmosphere. She needled herself internally for feeling such elation at the idea of fleeing safety... but needling only went so far to push down that ironic joy.


    Maybe Purity was right after all. Maybe... maybe they weren''t made for this kind of life. Maybe they weren''t made for luxuriating in tranquility, seeing as they had been born into the UNAC''s tumult so long ago now. Struggle and grief were all that people like them knew; now, after a long period of rest and recuperation, perhaps it was time to struggle again.


    Esper James couldn''t suppress her smile, brows pointing down to malicious effect. They had contacts now, right? Kell, and the convent, and whoever the hell Purity said she knew? Maybe... Maybe they''d be able to do something. Something, anything, just... make problems for Tsang, however they could manage. It was a lofty dream for a girl like Esper James, who still worried that maybe the nuns were going to kill her for perceived slights... but, it wasn''t completely out of the question.


    She and Purity had spoken before, at length, about wanting to do something against Tsang. It didn''t really matter what it was, so long as she could put forth an effort to dismantle the oppressive regime that had fucked her, and Purity, over for their whole lives. Even if all she could do is waylay an IRE transport van, EJ would be able to die - truly die, because she was sure they''d execute her - with a sense of pride. Or, at least, so she imagined. So her now-manic mind told her.


    Purity and Esthrielle didn''t seem to notice just how riled up their gal pal was becoming: Purity was busy texting, presumably Kell, and Est was staring up at the ceiling with irises flashing out a Morse code signal. That is to say, both of EJ''s gal pals were distracted supremely and impenetrably - and that was just fine for the little blonde. She would be plenty happy here, lingering in their touch.


    That was the flip side to it all, she figured. If the three of them left the convent, to go be freedom fighters or even just live a sort-of-normal life or something, they would rarely - if ever - get a chance to snuggle like this again. This sort of peace, and tranquility... this sort of calm, complacent love. It wouldn''t come easy, and it wouldn''t come cheap. They''d need to keep their profiles low, and, and, and... Esper James couldn''t really think of anything else they''d need to do that she hadn''t already considered. There was nothing. The ghoulish girl began to scour her brain for all the vital information she could find, drawing upon movies, comics, TV shows, games, books...


    And even after pouring through every possible piece of fictional media she had consumed in her unnaturally-prolonged twenties, all she got was a void. Would Tsang really hunt them, like in the movies? Would there be bounties posted, and kill squads assigned, and this and that and the other thing? Or... Well, she couldn''t deny that she really didn''t have any experience with being a lethal, anti-corporatist freedom fighter. Guerilla warfare always seemed cool to her, and it was her go-to in strategy games that allowed for it, but...


    ...well? She had no fucking clue where to begin when it wasn''t something going on through the veneer of a computer screen. She thought back, then, to that night running back home with Est... both of them dressed in Judas''s nightgowns, both splattered with blood that was not, and never would be, their own. She thought, for the hundredth time she imagined, of the way the officer''s throat had torn and been rent asunder in her teeth.


    That was the extent of her knowledge of rebellion. She had fired a gun twice in her life, and both times were in this very month. Only once had actually been aimed to kill - and it had hit its mark, but that had only been from, say, eight feet away. Indoors. Not a really great track record to be working off of - as far as resumes went, Esper James was more versed in the office than the battlefield.


    But whatever. She could learn, she assured herself; she would force herself to learn, because the alternative was to not even try.


    That was another thing she had to consider. She was dragged back up to reality from the dark waters wherein she had swam not long ago, idle dreams of rebellious heroism - and even martyrdom, if need be - clinging tight but ultimately allowing her to go free. Esper James cast a glance to Purity, then to Esthrielle, and then to herself. Or, well, what little of herself wasn''t currently buried under one of the other women, in any case.


    She was having a lot of big thoughts, huh? Big, grandiose dreams of righteous violence in the name of freedom from persecution and oppression. Real hero shit, the sort of thing someone would write a book about... the sort of thing that only ever really happened in those same books, it seemed. Vitus had never really been the place for heroism, anyways.


    To think she and Purity and Est could go up against Tsang was foolish. But, well, they had to try, because the alternative was, again, not to even attempt it. To accept a life in a gilt cage, always wondering and hoping and praying that forces outside of their control wouldn''t interfere with the tenuous peace they had created and embraced. They''d be trapped underground as decoration for the convent, existing only in a vague, extant way, like friendly ghosts who never truly mattered anymore.


    Esper James had had enough of living like that. She had been in a very similar position back in Tsang... and then again in the factory, and now here. She had felt so helpless for so long that, now that there was even the smallest inkling of a way for her to try and take control of her own life, she wasn''t going to let it slip by without a fight. Literally.


    She decided to put those thoughts from her mind, for now. Instead? If they were going to look at getting out of the convent, and back into the city, and if what Esper James assumed about their future capacity for moments of silence and love was true? She had better fucking savor this moment. She had better do everything she possibly could to etch it into her fucking brain, so that even in the depths of Hell she''d always remember this sweetness she may otherwise have taken for granted: to lay above and beneath your lovers on a soft bed, languishing in the warm silence and still, sharing skinship and unspoken words of love and devotion.


    She hoped she''d get this again, despite it all. Despite what lay ahead.


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    EJ sunk down into the body pile and breathed deep, taking in the scent of skin and hair and body wash and body oil and every product in between. She drank it down like a life-giving elixir, becoming the Qin Shi Huang of polyamory for a moment in time - every gasp was another throat full of mercury, and she gulped it till she could take no more.


    Esper James nuzzled her face into Purity''s chest, giving her a squeeze; meanwhile, her feet played at Est''s, trying to garner affectionate attention from either lover simultaneously. She was rewarded near-immediately, with Purity putting her left hand up to palm the back of the blonde''s head and push her face in further. Purity smirked down at EJ as the smaller gal made a muffled sound of surprise; she was tempted to grab Est, too, but cellular communications took priority. For now.


    Being smothered in Purity''s buxom bosom made EJ kick her feet with playful faux-worry, as if trying to free herself or exclaim. This, in turn, made her bop at Est''s feet in repetition. Soft ghoulflesh met synthetic skin in kiss after kiss, touch after touch, each kick of EJ''s feet doing its best to bother Est in a way laced with love. Est was anything but stoic in the face of such antics.


    She put on a fake scowl, obviously formed in jest, and roared. "Raaaagh! EJ! Stop kicking me-e-e! I''m trying to talk to Zofi and you''re distracting me-e-e!" Her hands wound back before being thrust forth, fingertips making a ginger landing on Esper James''s ribs. Then, the true torment was inflicted: fingers brushed along ribs in erratic but measured motions, just forceful enough to draw sensation, but too light to keep from irritating the skin.


    Esper James began to genuinely wriggle then, her previous motions born of a desire to gently annoy; now that she was being tickled, her writhing form was much more earnest. Est laughed maniacally in a performative display as she made her blonde babe squirm like a nightcrawler, fueled by Esper James''s squealing and Purity''s own amused cackling. Purity helped from the other side, then: not tickling EJ, but putting her entire left arm around EJ''s head rather than the palm alone. This kept the ghoul firmly trapped in a prison of softness and sensation, without respite.


    EJ was going wild, brain completely swept free of any of the important things she had been contemplating earlier. How had this happened? How had she been tricked into this position, forced to undulate beneath the tactile ministrations of a woman with artificial arms, all while being drowned in another woman''s chest? God, she was so lucky, she thought... but also, God, how was she going to escape this?!


    Laughter broke from her then even as she squealed and whined with greater gusto, the impromptu tickle-session setting all three hearts alight with a joy and relief they still weren''t fully familiar with. While it was true that love was abundant between the three... well, things had been tough recently, what with just about everything. From EJ drowning, to dying, to Luca leaving, and Purity declaring that they should leave the convent... it had been a lot. Stress was a common bedfellow.


    But here, playfully tormenting Esper James, sharing laughter and love was easier than breathing or blinking. It was water in a desert, and the three women had worked up a thirst they hadn''t even realized until now. The tickling wound down, and Esthrielle''s hands went even deeper into their triple-embrace. Artificial arms wrapped about a half-dead midriff and squeezed, EJ becoming the middle spoon in an instant.


    "Hahaha...! Gah, you two''re cute, you know that? I... I''m gonna miss this, when things get bad again." Est''s smile became sad before a response could even be given by either of her lovers; her eyebrows became downturned, as did the corners of her lips even as their centers raised. Even as Purity opened her mouth to rebuke Est''s pessimism, the Easterner put her face into the crook of EJ''s right shoulder and neck and nuzzled in.


    Purity''s pink lips formed a supple O as she tried to formulate a response, shutting for a split-second as she actually considered what she would say. They opened again as the club darling did her best to refute Est''s certainty that things would get bad again. "Hey! No, no, we''re gonna be fine. Things might be a little rough at first, I won''t lie, but...! But we''ll find a way to be happy, and to stay together. We''ll find a way, no matter what it takes. Okay?"


    Est wished she could say ''okay''; so did EJ, though she couldn''t vocalize her assent for different reasons. Purity''s joy had become a pout at how downhearted her girls had become in a single instant, and she finally put her phone down. A right arm was used to great effect, now forming a semicircle about the Knight to drag her in closer in the hug. Purity leaned forth, kissing the Esippardi girl''s forehead.


    "I promise. On my life, we will be fine out there. There may be some ups, and some downs - that''s just life! Life had good and bad! No darkness without light! But... I know in my heart, more than I know anything else... we''ll find a way, to be safe and to be happy and to live how people were supposed to live." No answer was necessary this time, nor was it expected. Instead, Purity simple gave the two other women a solid squeeze and held it until they each untensed as one.


    -


    They lay like that for a great while, until dinner. Zofia was right, as it turned out: the Knights had found a contact in the city who was willing to cater, it seemed. Enormous fresh whitefish, salt-grilled and with a side of chili sauce, made for a delicious scent within the dining hall - and an oddity to witness, thought Esper James. All across the hall, nuns who had never eaten a whole fish in their life were struggling to figure out how to attack the piscine provisions. Some of them were dipping spoons into the accompanying sauce in a misguided idea that it was soup - which, quickly, they found it was not.


    Est, Purity, and Esper James all sat beside one another in a row, right like that. Esthrielle looked to Purity, waiting for her to broach the main course... and Purity, in turn, looked to Esper James. The two living women watched patiently to see how the dead one began her assault on the fish, hoping for some kind of advice they could follow. They were disappointed by what they saw.


    Esper James, no stranger to fish and with that gut full of terrible, potent alkahest, simply grabbed her fish in both hands and began to take bites. In fact, the specific region she bit at was anything but measured or precise - she attacked it like it was a hot dog, or a loaf of bread, chomping down everywhere any anywhere she saw fit. Fish was dunked with bare hands into her little pot of sauce, then transferred directly to her ravenous maw for immediate, merciless consumption.


    It was great, at least it was to her. Salty yet light... thick and moist on the inside, yet crunchy from fried skin and salt-grill preparation... It was like eating fried chicken made of fish. Sure, fried fish was its own thing, but the exterior was nothing similar to fried chicken... except this, which was meaty in that seafood way yet anything but fishy. Seasalt and garlic played at the back of her tongue while exotic chilis played sweet-and-tangy upon her main palate. It was a lovely change from the normal diet of ''broth and meat stew'' she was normally provided here.


    Eventually, Est just looked up how to eat it, and told Purity. They slit it down the middle and peeled their fish-skins free, giving them to a very thankful Esper James, before digging in. And with that, the trio was immersed in aqueous indulgence - with a side of red wine, as always. They drank so very much red wine in the convent.


    Zofia eventually found her way over to the ladies, shifting tables to sit across from them at their otherwise isolated table-end position. She set her plate down gingerly, not wanting her massive fish dinner to topple to the tile below, before taking a seat upon the hardwood bench provided.


    "Hey, girls, haha... I... Hope you don''t mind me sitting with you, haha...!" She awkwardly flashed her steely fangs, and Purity shook her head amenably. "Nah, Zofi, you''re just fine sweetheart. We... Well, Est told you, right?" Purity said no more, simply looking to the brown-haired girl with a knowing smirk. Zofi became excited without delay, nodding rapidly, all thoughts of food shoved from her mind.


    "Yes! Yeah, yes, she...! I''m... I''m so thankful, to all three of you. I-I... I knew I could trust you three, I knew you''d understand. We''re all in the same boat in a sense, haha, you know? In, uh, in a sense, at least..." The Polish penitent became bashful then, cheeks flaring rosy, eyes weighted towards her lap. It was Esthrielle''s turn to comfort the other woman, it seemed - EJ, who hadn''t even known there was some kind of plan, watched on with a mingled sense of dread and delight. She was, at the very least, intrigued about whatever they were discussing.


    "Zofi, hey. I get it - we get it. We''re... Gonna be setting things into motion. Soon. Very soon. It shouldn''t cause a stir, so... you''ll be fine, we''ll all be fine. Okay? Just, uh, eat your fuckin'' fish, haha... might be the last chance we get to eat in a place like this. For a while, anyways." Est gave Zofia a smile that was leagues more comforting than Purity''s cocksure smirk; Zofi looked up and matched it, thankful for the reassurance.


    EJ was confused, but also... that excitement from earlier began to well up once again, like thick red sap coursing through the veins of a tree. Soon.


    Soon.

 \\ Act Five Begin \\ (Ch. 82) - Tohu Va Bohu; or, Eating The Eyes Out

    The rest of dinner was handled, as it often is, with little akin to self-restraint. As more and more of the nuns became annoyed with their entrees, they began to follow in Esper James''s footsteps and simply attack their dinner with bared teeth. Nearly none of them had the sort of steely fangs that Zofia or Esthrielle had, and so there was a great deal of crunching, and chomping, and grinding... and the dried, salt-grilled exterior of the fish was not so amenable to that. It was only with great difficulty that the nuns who followed this path found their sustenance.


    Even before most women had begun their fish, much less finished it, the dessert course was brought out - those nuns on kitchen duty drifting through the rows with push-carts and great silver platters. As if a saccharine juxtaposition against the salt-crust exterior of the whitefish, dessert came in the form of dozens and dozens of pale, delicate ramekins. Within those ramekins, of course, sat cr¨¨me br?l¨¦e - these came with their own sugar-crust pre-prepared, glassily made and of gentle amber sheen.


    However, some nuns preferred theirs darker - for this, the kitchen sisters had brought butane torches direct from the kitchen. The smell of darkened and burnt sugar quickly filled the air alongside that of fish and chili sauce, forming a sweet yet salty aroma underlined with the tang of lime and vinegar. In some ways, it was good! In others? Not so much.


    Esper James had all but devoured her entire plate of fish by time the ramekin cart made its way over to their quartet - she had taken to furtively drinking down her sauce, and sneaking tails, bones, and heads off of nearby plates whenever they were made available to her. Her dessert was placed before her, the nun who had put it there - wearing an extra apron and long white gloves, to mark her as kitchen staff - then looking down directly to the ghoulette.


    The nun said nothing. Black hair in a sleek modern bob... pale skin that spoke of the temperate climes which many in the ERFS enjoyed... LED eyes of deepest amethyst, which flashed and flickered like the tongue of an unattended candl- oh. Duh. Esper James gave the woman an awkward smile as she was practically glared at, the Wayward''s eyes boring a hole through her head with their insistent observation.


    "...ah, m-miss, haha... Sister, I... I can''t see, or... parse? I can''t understand whatever you''re saying. I only have ears, not... a, uh..." What had Est called it the other night? A communications suite? Comms suite? Something like that, Esper James was sure; she had no idea how it worked, not other than the fact that it allowed the Waywards to speak without speaking. She figured it was a lot like texting, except you used your brain, not your fingers.


    "I don''t have a comms suite. Sorry, haha." The words sunk into the other woman''s ears after what felt like forever, and when they did, the nun''s placid expression broke into shy amusement. She laughed aloud, twinkling and light and demure, her eyes shutting as the mirth of her mistake took her. She raised up the butane torch she carried with her, giving it a few flick-and-lights for added dramatic effect.


    "Sorry, sister EJ! I forgot... you''ve become such a normal sight around here, I sort of forgot you were different. Haha, ha... Sorry, sorry. My mistake. Erm, your cr¨¨me br?l¨¦e... is the sugar coating dark enough for you? Would you like me to darken it? I promise, the butane won''t interfere with the flavor." She smiled still as her words met their end, a soft expression of contentment mixed with apology having taken over her lips and eyes. Great purple irises no longer flashed nor flared; instead, they were locked directly with EJ''s own emeralds. Good. That sort of attention and respect... they were nice.


    It was also bittersweet to hear that this woman, whom EJ had never met, had such a kind and thoughtful outlook towards the ghoulette. She had been there for a few weeks, sure, but her interaction with the other nuns had been minimal. In spite of that, this woman not only knew - and respected - that the ghoulish guest preferred to be called EJ, she also thought that EJ was such a normal and expected sight in the convent that the blonde would, of course, have had the same alterations. She was one of the nuns at this point.


    That caused a pang of doubt, and of reluctant pain, to make itself known within EJ''s chest. The nuns only continued to prove that they were anything but the awful, murderous fanatics she''d been told they were... they continued to be kind to her at every turn, and humanize her at every given opportunity. They seemed to even, in their own way, care for her. That made EJ nauseous.


    It was a thing she had longed for for so very long - the sense of community, of being part of a singular caring body, that she had gone for decades without. Tsang had never been more than a job to her; they had never given her any opportunities to feel like part of a group, outside of her badge and the occasional pizza party. Hell, she couldn''t even eat the pizza, and the second-living pizza approximate (it had been given the uninspired moniker of ''meatzza'') always upset her stomach. She was pretty sure they laced it with FixAte.


    But here, these women who were supposed to hate her had only taken her in with open arms and made her feel accepted. She felt like part of the convent, and that felt awful - not because she didn''t want the kinship, but because she knew she would be betraying them by leaving. To have their hearts, arms, and minds opened to her... and then to reject them? To say that this place, and this life, weren''t for her? That their companionship and acceptance weren''t enough?


    It turned EJ''s gut. A reaction that was more physical than metaphorical, she found, as her tummy grumbled with the tone of one that had been filled too greedily and rapidly. The nun giggled softly, ebon arches descending a centimeter or two further to display her concern. "Ah, sorry, are you sick? You don''t need to eat the crem-"


    "No, no, I-! I do want it, sorry! Ah, erm, y-yes, a little darker please! I like the burnt taste of the sugar with the vanilla of the custard...!" Esper James''s frantic interjection drew a further giggle from the woman serving her - and another from Purity, who had turned her head to tune into the conversation. The pinkette watched as the nun with the torch flicked a new flame into being, holding it then to the sugar-glass top of the ramekin confined dessert.


    "So, ah... sister...?" Purity began, going to fill what would have otherwise been an awkward void with small talk instead. "Ah! Sister Lucretia. Back home, I was... I went by ''Lu'' or ''Lulu'' a lot, haha." There was no follow-up to the moment of unprompted familiarity, her eyes focused on the cr¨¨me br?l¨¦e she was giving a heat-treatment. Purity''s smile widened then, only just; but it was enough that EJ noticed it, and wondered at Purity''s purpose.


    "So, Lulu, haha... You work field team, then? I noticed you''ve got black lipstick on, and a cute haircut. Not really ''nun''-like, you know - but you''ve gotta blend in, right?" Purity didn''t press any harder, but Esper James could tell almost immediately what her lover''s goal was. Esthrielle was listening in now, too, though she was silent - just waiting, but with her head turned ever so slightly so that her right ear was aimed directly at the conversation. She wanted to ensure she got everything that they were discussing, of course.


    Lucretia nodded, her smile now showing teeth as white as her lips were black, shocking ivory seeming even more pale against the ebon backdrop. EJ noticed, too, that it wasn''t just the lipstick - Lucretia also had on eyeliner and mascara, and if the ghoulette really squinted, she could see remnants of hastily-removed eyeshadow. Lu had been out on the town, or something of the sort. Fuck, now Esper James felt a little dumb - she would never have noticed had Purity not said anything, but in retrospect, it was obvious. Some of the nuns wore a little makeup, it was true, but nothing nearly so severe as ink-toned lipstick.


    "Yeah, guilty as charged. I mostly do reconnaissance. I''ve... I''ve got the right ''look'' to go to some of the seedier establishments here, haha. Plus, back home, I... Err. Let''s just say I''m used to that sort of scene, okay? I''ve got other cremes to br?l¨¦e, haha!" She let out that bouncy, sugary giggle, like gumdrops on piano keys, once more. Purity joined her, the buxom beauty''s own amusement taking the form of a breathier, more dulcet orchestra that swelled for but a moment before disappearing. She waited until Lucretia had finished her own giggling before offering a response, coming across measured and playful - but yet, respectful.


    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    "Oh, of course. No, haha, I get it... The modern wolf''s life, you know? Walking the streets looking for meat, in a sense? Haha... Yeah, sorry, won''t pry. But, could we talk after dinner? I''d really like to get to know more about what sort of recon the Knights need." Purity held to her smirk as she spoke, eyes wide and attentive, focused solely on Lucretia - paying no mind to the cr¨¨me she was currently, and thoroughly, br?l¨¦e-ing. Lulu''s eyes flickered for a moment, not in that LED way that the Waywards'' irises often did, but in the way of a prey animal who has been trapped.


    Purity leaned forward surreptitiously, getting ever so slightly closer to Lucretia - and by consequence, Esper James. The blonde had been engrossed in watching Purity to her work - now, however, that Puri''s chest was resting against her shoulder, EJ couldn''t help but re-examine the situation. What was Purity''s angle? EJ had figured it was just to get some support within the Knights, to ease their escape, but...


    EJ could smell that perfume again, dripping from Purity''s pores. It was as intoxicating as ever.


    Lucretia opened her mouth to reply, expression having taken a nearly imperceptible stitch that seemed to indicate she was afraid of just how much she should say. Purity leapt in before the other woman could respond, however - her intonation just as insistent and comforting as always, practically begging all who could hear it to trust her implicitly, and to find delight in her presence.


    "I''ve been thinking, you know, EJ and Est have their own duties here... but I''ve been kinda just hanging around, you know? So, maybe someone with honest experience in Vitus, and its clubs and... less-than-reputable places... maybe I could help out? I''d need to know what I''m getting myself into, though." The smirk became, then, a smile. EJ felt her own walls coming down, much to a distant sense of dismay - she knew that Purity had been trained to do this, but that didn''t make it easier to accept how easily it was working.


    Purity had, of course, been not only trained, but augmented at a biological level for this sort of deception. It was easy to forget that Tsang wasn''t just the place that recycled the dead into the second-living - to do so took immense knowledge of the human body at a level so intimate it could be considered mastery by most. Surely, one didn''t need to be dead to have pheromone glands like vampires did... The subtle scent of perfume now making more sense to Esper James the more she thought about it.


    For the second time this evening, her stomach did a triple backflip - it would have won an Olympic gold, had it been competing.


    It took all of EJ''s strength to keep her jaw locked and prevent it from falling to the floor as she began to put the pieces together, those seemingly coincidental - though still appealing - aspects of Purity''s anatomy, and countenance, and overall presence, having their explanations revealed one by one. There was a reason she always smelled good. There was a reason she always tasted, and sometimes smelled, ever-so-slightly of diesel. There was a reason that Purity''s voice always seemed to be breathy and sultry, to resonate in a lower frequency than most women her size and build. There was a reason it was so hard to say no to her.


    EJ felt her hands ball into fists, knuckles growing whiter than usual as she struggled to suppress an exclamation at these revelations. She could have screamed. There was, of course, no concrete proof, but... She and Puri would be talking about this later. That much was certain. There was no way that EJ could simply let it lie. EJ briefly wondered why Purity''s eyes had been done with LED... though that, too, was for deception, of course. Jewel-irises on a first-living wouldn''t make sense.


    Lucretia''s apprehension melted like ice in the summer sun, eyes closing up as she giggled again. Relief drizzled like warm summer rain from every individual giggle she released, and though it wrapped up quickly, that relief had soaked into the woman''s entire countenance. "Oh! Yeah, that would... That would be excellent, sister Purity. We can talk about it, keep it, ah... hush-hush, so the mother abbess doesn''t press you into it without your consent, and..." The rest went without saying. If Purity found that it seemed to be a thing she''d enjoy, she''d be welcome to do it. Everyone would win.


    In this moment, though, Purity seemed to be the only one who was truly winning. She nodded emphatically, her expression turning even more thankful to the sister - rosy cheeks rose up, with plump pink lips spread across immaculate teeth in a smile that would pierce a heart of ice. Purity even reached forward and took Lucretia''s free hand in both of her own, squeezing it appreciatively, and giving it a quick shake.


    "Oh, thank you, Lulu! Thank you so much! Here, after dinner... do you know where we''re staying? Just, ah, just swing on by, if you can manage. We can go for a walk, find somewhere discreet..." Purity had locked eyes with the other woman, moving the gothic nun into checkmate without any further effort. Lucretia gestured with her pupils to Esper James and Esthrielle, nearly saying something - before Purity, again, tamped down her fears.


    "Oh, don''t worry about them. The less of us all walking around together, the more... discreet, I figure. And it''s so easy to bug a bedroom. We wouldn''t want our whole conversation leaked, right?" The concern was anything but misplaced, even though Purity didn''t truly seem to believe it was a potential danger. Lucretia paled as she considered the possibility, her Knight fa?ade snapping in twain for a moment as she jerked her head to look across the dining hall. Purple-lined pupils locked upon the mother abbess for a split second.


    Lulu turned back without a moment to spare, clearing her throat and offering a brief, hurried nod. "Y-Yes, sister Purity, you are... you are absolutely correct. I will meet you later this evening to... discuss. Here is your creme br?l¨¦e, and Est''s. I... I fear I spent too long burning sister EJ''s, so I can''t really burn yours any darker. I hope you enjoy, though, we... w-we put a lot of work into it." That visage of fear blinked to one of false joy, apologetic in the extreme. Lucretia pushed her dessert cart on without delay once she had passed Purity and Est their desserts.


    Once Lucretia was out of earshot, Est turned to face Purity directly. She had a single brow cocked, and a conflicted expression on her face - caught somewhere between intrigue and disapproval, though the latter was withheld until further evidence presented itself. "So. Puri. Hey. What, uhhh, what the fuck was that? You gonna screw Lulu or somethi-"


    Est was cut off by a single index finger, the one on Purity''s right hand, being pressed tenderly to the Wayward''s lips. Est nearly bit the finger instinctively, but held herself back - also resigning herself to shut up, and allowed Purity to interrupt her. Purity''s smile warped itself, going from the face of a friend to the mask of a Machiavellian mastermind whose machinations were unfolding exactly as planned. She narrowed her eyes to near slits, leaning down to plant a kiss on Esthrielle''s forehead before responding - a kiss that made Est shudder with delight, despite her current mood.


    "Ha-ha-ha...~ No, no, I doubt I''ll get the chance to tongue a nun other than you, Est - and besides. I''m not gonna cheat on you girlies. I love you, and we''re committed, yeah? But... Well, I figure doing some information gathering... Places, routes, contacts... Well, it''ll be helpful to us. Really a huge boon, you know? If we''re gonna... well, you know. Besides. Lulu''s got a cute sort of innocent thing going on. I wanna give her some pointers." Purity made no effort to elaborate on what she meant by giving the other woman some pointers.


    The explanation seemed to assuage Est''s concerns, at least in the capacity that she now decided simply to pout like a brat who had been reprimanded. The kiss had, seemingly, taken all of the wind out of Esthrielle''s sails... and that, paired with the logic of Purity''s actions, had completely debased any displeasure Est could muster up. The Italian crossed her arms in a performative way and turned to address her cr¨¨me br?l¨¦e.


    Purity snickered, giving Est a one-armed squeeze about the shoulders. She offered the same affection to Esper James without hesitation, and without indication - simply showing her smallest lover how she felt with deeds, not words. Then, she began to tuck into the burnt sugar treat before her. Est did the same, and EJ would have followed suit as well... but her stomach was still turning itself into knots, knots which were not soothed by Purity giving her a hug.


    Purity was acting weird. Like, truly, notably weird. She had been in a slump for so long recently that, for EJ, seeing Purity now take such an initiative towards the trio''s future was bewildering. It was like she was an entirely new person... or rather, that she had always been this person, but had been keeping it under wraps. Either option frightened, and deeply saddened, the ghoulette. Was it her fault? Was Purity like this now because of EJ''s actions - because of how Esper James had, admittedly, really fucked over Puri''s trust in her?


    God, she felt so fucking sick. Maybe a little bit of sugar would help. EJ made to enjoy her dessert - with such haste that she nearly just bit the ceramic and custard both, spoon entirely done away with. Nearly. There would be plenty of time to use her teeth later, though...

 Act Five (Ch. 83) - Purity Test; or, Thief Thief Thief

    Once the custard and sugar were dealt with, sloppily and with much tongue usage (given EJ''s proclivity to not use her spoon for the dish), the women left their dishes there for the cleanup crew to deal with. They made their way towards the door, Esthrielle leading, and Esper James purposefully lagging behind a bit so that Purity was in the middle. If the pinkette noticed the intentional bit of positioning, she said nothing - still bearing naught but her smile from the conversation with Lulu. She did reach back for EJ''s hand, though, and the blonde couldn''t deny her.


    Purity''s hand was warm. Everything about her was often oh so very warm, the juxtaposition to how EJ was so very cool more often than not, lest she drank blood... and Est, in the middle of the spectrum, was lukewarm in arms and legs, though her flesh still held that fiery blood which gave her an organic temperature. Esper James squeezed Purity''s hand, trying to shut out thoughts from dinner that would ruin the moment.


    Those thoughts clawed at the closed door of her mind all the same, of course. She couldn''t simply turn them off... just deny them the attention they craved. That would have to do, of course - the nuns, in their unnatural silence, gave her nothing to distract her. Esthrielle herself was only barely more human in her motions and predisposition, making only a slight bit more sound than her conventional counterparts. In turn, it would seem to all the world that only Esper James and Purity were truly alive - the others could have just as easily been automated.


    Then out into the hallway the trio did abscond, back towards their bedroom. Purity reached forwards and snatched one of Esthrielle''s hands as well, making of herself the link which forged a chain of lovers, three-ringed though it may be. Est thought nothing of it, and happily took Purity''s palm in her own - even turning back her head, momentarily, to give Puri a tender smile and glance. Purity blew her a kiss in return.


    Down hallway after hallway they went, wreathed in silence and still, only broken by footsteps, fabric swishes, and the pseudo-crackling of pseudo-sconces which lined the wall, bathing everything in simulated firelight. Within EJ, the welling pressure of dangerous, frightening speculation pushed her heart to the seams, threatening to burst her. She was... god, she wasn''t sure, really. Wasn''t sure how to describe it, how to put words to this feeling of unease and turmoil which she was now feeling.


    She needed to talk with Purity - there was nothing else to say, no two ways about it. She needed to talk to Purity, because Purity was both the catalyst for their departure, and the fly in that very same departure''s ointment. EJ reminded herself of their agreement, hers and Purity''s: to be open and honest, and not keep secrets anymore, from one another. It was an agreement they had both spurned at least once.


    And yet, now, after both of them had made their mistakes and talked it through... she couldn''t help but cling to their pact as a life preserver on a stormy sea. Purity had seemed to have put real emotional weight on it... real hope into it, and her whole heart inside it. She had seemed so fucking hurt when EJ had... Well. Of course she had been hurt. EJ had only gone and got herself killed. As a second-living, death was more like an inconvenience, but... still. To Purity, to all first-living in a way, death meant something else.


    To them, death was a great and impassable wall, from which return was scant allowed. The death of a person was a permanent, destructive, damning thing. It was traumatic. It was painful. And, for Esper James, it was those last two... but, not in the same way as it would have been for Purity, or Est. EJ would have laughed, had she not been so tense already - to think, life was sacred, but unlife was expendable.


    She wanted to pull Purity aside right then and there, even with Est there - no, especially with Est there. Then, perhaps, Purity would realize she wasn''t being as subtle as she thought she was. Though, of course, to make accusations without knowing what you were accusing someone of was pointless. Just pulling Purity aside, saying that EJ was having a bad feeling about whatever she was doing, and that she should come clean? Laughable. There was no way it would work.


    EJ bit her cheek and chewed gently as they walked, distracting herself from her own mental anguish. Finally, finally, their bedroom was in sight... and when the door to it was opened, Esper James rushed in past Purity to throw herself to the bed, as she oft did. Flopping on a bed was a cathartic thing for the little ghoul; it made her feel free, and reminded her body of the sort of things humans did before modern conveniences came about. Though, if recent days were any proof, the innate need to pounce yet held some use...


    Est snickered at EJ''s eagerness, rushing to join her after only a moment''s time - she threw herself onto the bed, over top of Esper James''s supine form, bodies layered upon one another without delay. EJ squawked at the sudden snuggle-tackle, kicking her legs impotently in a display of feigned distress. It did feel nice, she couldn''t lie, having Est pressed to her. Especially now, with her heart steeling itself for a confrontation with Purity - a confrontation that she had no idea what would even entail.


    Purity lingered at the doorway, smiling with that same sinister, superior smugness as before - the face of many a self-assured dominatrix from Esper James''s favorite media. She took a few steps, slowly but surely, towards the other two women... but then turned about on a heel, facing the door but not approaching it.


    "Hmm~ Girls... I love you two, but I told Lulu I''d be around after dinner to chat. I''m gonna go wait outside for her, look like I''m getting some fresh air; you two? Have fun snuggling. When I get back, eheh... Heheheh...~ Well, maybe one more for the road, eh? If we''re gonna be leaving soon?" She winked at her lovers, licking her now-bared teeth like a hungry carnivore preparing itself for meat.


    Esthrielle shivered in unspoken anticipation and nodded, rapidly and enthusiastically. She really seemed caught up in the sway of all this - and after their inaugural lovemaking session when the three had first arrived at the convent, she was steadily growing more and more accustomed (and excited) about the prospect of any sexual liaison. Purity had the Wayward wrapped around her tongue, in that sense... Finger, perhaps, but tongue most assuredly. EJ allowed herself a brief smirk at her own joke.


    The blonde was not so excited as Est, but she still gave a thumbs up and a wink, mimicking the licking of teeth. "Go, then! Hurry up with Lulu, so we can have our turn with you~!" EJ took that moment to use her non-thumbs up hand to take a generous handful of Esthrielle''s ass through her habit, digging her fingers into supple, still-living flesh. The point was to provide emphasis, and God above, what emphasis it gave.


    Est yelped as if struck, but didn''t shy away - rather, she pushed her rear back into EJ''s hand, head bowing low as all that confident, brusque nature was pruned from her by the touch of another. She whined gently, eyes flicking over to Esper James''s. They caught her gaze and kept it for a few seconds, but she quickly became embarrassed by both the shared touch, and the new heat that bloomed between her thighs. Est turned away after a few moments of peering longingly into Esper James''s pupils, losing her way within their inky blackness.


    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Across the room, Purity giggled mischievously at the display - a hand over her mouth as she did, adding more fuel to the fictional villainess fire. "Ufufufufufu~ Well, don''t you two wear yourselves out while I''m gone... I''ll be so sad if I come back and you''ve already burnt your libidos down to the nub! But, enough of that. I''ve got an infiltrator I need to speak with... a great many things to discuss, you know? Heheheh... Okay, bye girls! Love yo-u-u!" Purity blew the pair a kiss before returning to the hallway, sure to shake her hips with extra vigor as she strutted off.


    The blown kiss and goodbye were returned in kind by Esper James, but Est could only manage to get out the kiss; words seemed to be failing her, and Esper James realized that she hadn''t released her grip on Est''s cake quite yet. Hmm, how worrisome... and yet, she couldn''t deny that there was something enticing about the moment they had, right there, just the two of them.


    Est seemed way more ready to go than initially anticipated, but EJ couldn''t press the advantage on the battlefield of lust; she had something far more important to bring up with Esthrielle than just a quickie, much as she would''ve enjoyed one. EJ''s hand left Est''s behind and moved to take a more comfortable, and comforting, hold of the Italian''s hip. Est, by contrast, leaned her head over and nuzzled at Esper James''s neck, giving her a few soft pecks as she did.


    "Ooh, EJ... I, aha, I rarely get to talk to you alone, y''know? It''s usually the three of us... but, uh. I just wanted to say? I love you. I really do. I know it, uh... I know it all happened so fast, but sometimes you just know, y''know? Meeting you that first night... Snuggling with you at your apartment... You were so nice to me, even if I was a shit to you. Even though I was a bitch." Est sniffled, nuzzling in even deeper to the crook of EJ''s neck. She awkwardly moved her arms, trying to hug the ghoulette as best she could from this position - her mechanized limbs finding their place beneath the ex-Tsang employee after some moments of struggle.


    Esper James was taken aback; the whole topic of conversation seemed a sudden shift, and took her wholly unawares. She turned her own head to place loving pecks upon the white-haired woman''s temple and forehead, but there was a lot to think about now, seeing as Esthrielle had brought this all up without warning. Hell, the very fact that Est had brought it up in a vacuum at all meant she had been thinking on it for some time - and now, she was choosing to release the pent up emotion.


    Est sniffled again, kissing Esper James one more time on the lower jaw - this one lasting longer, and holding more passion, and sorrow, than any of the others. "I was such a bitch to you, a-and yet... and yet, here we are. We got our second chance, you know? That... that night, at Judas''s place. The first night. I''m... I''m sorry I shot at you. It was my only w-way out, and..." She took a deep breath, choking back tears that had yet to form. A brief fight with herself began, but was brought to a close within moments.


    "...and I''m so thankful you didn''t kill me, h-haha! What kind of love story is ours, you know? I kill a dude who was beating you up, then I almost get killed and you save me, then you spare me even when your boss t-tells you to kill me... I... Oh, God, I''m so sorry for all of it. Really. Please, please forgive me... or, at least, tell me how I can make it up to you." She seemed serious about everything, every last word. That scared Esper James, bringing in a freeze that ate down to the ghoulette''s unliving core.


    Why was Est getting so emotional all of a sudden? Why the fuck was Purity acting so weird? What was up with either of them? Was it something in their food - or just the drinking water? Esper James considered, momentarily, that it very well may have been something in the food. It wouldn''t have been hard at all for the nuns to slip something into Purity and Est''s meals, slowly but surely driving them to delirium, or worse. Poisoning could take place in a slow but sure way, never needing to be outright instantaneous death or destruction.


    Hmm. She had no proof... and she would never get proof, she knew, but this was one more mark against the convent. One more reason for the three of them to leave - because they had all been acting normally, or whatever their individual approximation of ''normalcy'' was, until they had come here. Then, they had each begun to act oddly. At least, that''s what EJ was going to tell herself - and it was what she would believe.


    She returned Est''s hug, giving the Italian woman a big, strong squeeze, snuggling their bodies together until they may as well be glued to one another. Esthrielle didn''t mind at all; frankly, she seemed like she was loving the touch and affection, even as her sniffles grew louder and more insistent. She began to speak again, voice cracking and warbling with the impending onset of tears. "EJ... What did I ever do to deserve you and Purity? Is this my reward? They always talk about good things coming to those who wait, and I''ve waited so long. Do I get you and Puri as my prize? Th-That''d be nice, I think... That would be cool..."


    The tears came forth then, and Esper James held back a silent curse. She needed to respond, needed to say something to Esthrielle to try and snap her out of whatever bizarre, depressive fugue she was fighting through. Est began to sob openly while Esper James considered what to even say to the other woman, eventually deciding that the best option was to speak from the heart. She wasn''t sure what that really entailed when people said it, but there was no time like the present to try, right?


    "Ah, Est... Don''t be sorry. I love you, too... We both love you. Purity and I, we''re so fucking glad to have you. So very glad, and more lucky than words can describe... God, I love you, Est. You are sweet, and protective, and you genuinely do care about us. That''s... That''s hard to find nowadays, y''know? You''re one of a kind. And I''m glad you''re all mine, and Purity''s. All ours, haha."


    EJ meant every word of that, though she wasn''t sure she could''ve said it so plainly in any other moment. She knew she loved her girlfriends... she knew that they meant the world to her, and that without them, she''d be going nowhere fast. She''d still be back at Tsang; hell, she might even be locked up in a cage at Judas''s mansion right now. There was a time, she knew, that she would have liked nothing more than that. If the opportunity presented itself, she would''ve been weak.


    But saying these things aloud was hard. It was always hard when a relationship was new... and while they had rushed things along to a degree, the expedience of their headlong sprint towards outright love was bolstered by their situation. Being in a life-or-death scenario so often... hiding together from an oppressive enemy who would have seen them dead? Esper James was sure, without a doubt, that she would''ve already been caught if it wasn''t for them.


    Ugh. No, no, no. EJ didn''t have time to think on this, the minutiae of their relationship - she had a crying woman in her arms who desperately needed some ghoulish love. Esper James would be all too happy to provide. She used her shoulder to gently, very gently, coax Est to look up at her - and once the tear-afflicted Wayward did, Esper James leaned down to kiss her on the lips. It was tender, but also steeped in passion like a fine tea: fragrant, layered, and sweet without too much sugar. It was a kiss to get lost in.


    The kiss led itself onwards, every moment where it may have been cut off finding it renewed instead. Time began to while away, with Esper James being distracted from her own conspiratorial ponderings by the touch of Esthrielle''s lips, and Esthrielle being distracted from her tears by EJ''s insistence and physical love. The two fell into one another time and time again, lips soon parting so that tongues could dance, and after some time, the earlier lust returned. Nothing so overt as was implied then, but certainly, there was exploration.


    Esper James didn''t even have the presence of mind to wonder where Purity was, or how her chat with Lulu was going. It was for the best.

 Act Five (Ch. 84) - Spuck Den Dreck Aus; or, Kill v. Maim

    Outside, in the hallway, a pink-wreathed idea was made flesh - a devil in the house of God.


    Purity lingered just outside the door, fiddling with her phone, pretending with every ounce of her being that she was searching for a signal. A few of the convent''s denizens drifted past her, saying nothing and paying her little to no mind, outwardly buying every last bit of the bullshit she was selling. Purity searched in her peripherals alone to try and pick Lulu out from the passersby, the corners of her eyes doing their damnedest to search for that black bob bouncing through the halls.


    And there it was! No, wait - no, no, that was someone completely different. A woman Purity had never seen before traipsed on by, carrying a large stack of books in her hands, seeming notably determined to reach her destination without spilling them. Surely it couldn''t be that hard with robot arms, right? Right? Fuck, maybe it was.


    Just as Purity was beginning to consider what difficulties may arise when accounting for balance with prosthetic, cybernetic limbs, she felt a gentle prod about her ribs. The pinkette whipped around, then, to find a different black-bobbed nun staring up at her with amethyst eyes. The nun gave her a coy, mischievous little smile, sticking her tongue out a touch at the left edge - this was accompanied, of course, by a playful wink. Lulu had snuck up on her while she was distracted - figures. That''s how shit always was, wasn''t it?


    "Hey, sister Purity. Phone giving you troubles? The dampener we''ve got set up might be interfering with your signal, if no one helped you adjust your specs... here." Purity had no time to react before Lulu reached up and took the phone from her hands with a muted sort of power, the imperious decisiveness of an authority figure who thought it unthinkable that there may be challenge. She was absolutely correct, of course: Purity had no reason at all to rebuke the attempt.


    However, what Purity did have time to do, was smile from ear to ear. As soon as Lulu had brought up Purity''s phone, oh so genuinely and with seemingly earnest goodwill, Purity was sent plummeting into a dreamland version of the living nightmare she''d had with Tsang. It was double-speak, of course - that was to say, of course, that it was complete bullshit. Maybe there was a cell frequency dampener set up somewhere in the facility. Maybe that was why her phone had been running so slow. But, at the end of the day, regardless of the truth of Purity''s phone-based difficulties?


    The dampener was irrelevant. It was a nothing line, a throwaway trail of conversation meant to give the both of them an out to go somewhere else, somewhere just the two of them would occupy, so that Lulu could ''fix her phone''. To any outside observers, or even a passing listener? They were having a rather normal, rather mundane conversation about Purity''s phone. It reminded Purity of a thousand nights in a rain-soaked alley, talking to herself while the shadows responded, or those countless phone calls to Tsang HQ.


    "Oh! Yes, please help, Lulu! My phone has been so weird recently... I keep getting public address alerts, something about city safety, but they never expand when I click on them. Do you know how to fix my shit?" Purity allowed the profanity for the sake of seeming natural, and by the nun''s slight bewilderment at hearing profanity spoken aloud, Purity knew she had sold it. She would''ve fist pumped, if it wouldn''t have been extremely blatant.


    Lulu blinked a few times, smile faltering, before her gaze and grin became that much more genuine and intense. She nodded rapidly, that ebon mop of hair bouncing a half-second behind her head - the movement made Purity realize that Lulu had purple dyed on the inside of the bob, to match her eyes. The honorary sister was a bit jealous, really - such care was hard to find. Tsang mandated she went with pink, something about psychological impulses and being easier for her handlers to spot in a crowd. She never got to choose what color her hair had been dyed.


    Lulu opened her mouth to reply, and the words she put forth were exactly the ones Purity had been hoping for - and expecting. "Yeah, yes! Here, come with me, sister Purity... I can take you to my dorm, it''s just down the hall. We can tinker with your phone there... I''ve got a toolkit in my bag, don''t worry. Here - follow me." Lulu didn''t wait for an answer, but she didn''t need to, not really. Purity was all but guaranteed to be following, and follow she did. The pair whisked themselves away, down the myriad grid-like hallways of the convent complex, Lulu taking the lead without worry. She even found her hand slipping about Purity''s wrist, just to make sure the pinkette didn''t get lost.


    Purity let her mind wander as they walked, eyes absently locked upon Lulu''s hips - how they swayed in her habit with every step, how nice of a curve they had, how... Purity nearly slapped herself bodily, the urge to shake these thoughts from her head so strong they threatened to manifest physically. She could not allow herself to objectify this woman before her, no matter how tempting it would''ve been a month ago. Idle hands were prone to making mischief, it was true, but she could not stand the idea of allowing herself to slip back into bad, old habits. No, no, no - never again. Never, ever, again.


    Purity''s brain went, then, back to that mind palace of hers, with the locked doors and the stony floors and the eternal coolness in the air. Past the years of Tsang servitude she went, delving down deeper, deeper, back to her days before Vitus at all. She''d been such an awful bitch - such a chronic cheater, a filthy little flirt... to call herself ''notably promiscuous'' would be putting it lightly. She''d been a terrible, self-centered woman who only cared about what she could get out of a situation.


    She thought, not for the first time but for likely the ten-thousandth, if this life was her just desserts. She wondered if Tsang had been right to put her through what she had endured, if they had somehow seen into the rawest, most earnest layers of her heart and found the poison therein. They had looked into the depths of who she was and found it empty; they had tasted the apple of her being, and found it bitter and worm-ridden.


    And so they had put her right where she belonged.


    The thought ate away at Purity like a starving hound ate fresh pork, metaphysical fangs rending her tender heartsflesh into a dozen bloody, emotional ribbons. There was no way to confirm it, she knew... Alex never told her anything of the sort, no matter how often she pried at him. Hell, he was apologetic about the whole thing, but he hadn''t known the details of what Judas''s little ''project'' entailed.


    But there was also no way to deny it; no way to shut out that evil, to turn off those thoughts and worries and horrid nightmares. And now, feeling herself slip up now that she was comfortable again? It spiked disgust through her with the force of an ice pick, drilling her deep to the core of her being - and her stomach. Nausea flooded her but she choked it back, as she had done all those times before, instead just clenching her fists and focusing on her breathing.


    God, she was disgusting, wasn''t she? The question was posed to an unseen audience, the mirror within which Purity viewed herself. She felt sorry for Est and EJ, honestly. They were so good together... Est was so nice, and capable, too. She had everything a girl could want or need. Sure, she wasn''t fully organic, but that was just a cope to even think about and Puri chastised herself for bringing it up.


    Est was a better lover for EJ than Purity was. That was all there was to it, right? After all, even after they had agreed to be open and honest with one another, Purity couldn''t fucking stop herself from lying to the little blonde.


    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    Her phone. The alerts. Of course she''d seen them, of course they''d worked. Judas had gone batshit insane, even worse than she already was. Five million dollars for any information that leads to Esper James''s arrest? That was... insane. EJ, and Zofia, and even Tsang (as far as Purity knew) had no reason to believe Esper James was unique in any way, at least not those relating to Tsang''s goals. Why did they want her so fucking badly?


    And along with that, it meant she was feeding Est and EJ both a big heaping helping of bullshit. The talk of getting back out into the city, for the good of all three of them... it wasn''t quite as true as she wished it was. In truth, she didn''t want any of the three of them to get used as a bargaining chip by the mother abbess. Without Luca there to watch over them, to keep her in line, to ensure their safety, it was spotty at best. The mother abbess could easily offer up Esper James as bait to Tsang, or use her for a hostage exchange, or this, that, or the other thing... and none of those would result in anyone but Tsang winning. Those bastards always won in the end.


    And so, Purity had told them that they needed to go. She was thankful that EJ''s phone was MIA, presumed to have been left at Judas''s place. At least without that, and with Est''s aversion to the internet, Puri could be reasonably sure that neither of her girlfriends knew just how fucked things were getting out in the city. Wait, what was that?


    "-rity? Ah... sister Purity, hello? Are, ah, are you having an episode?" Lulu was staring up at Purity, concern etched into every detail of her face like a masterpiece bas relief. Purity gave her own head a quick side to side shake, letting her bubblegum bouquet of hair gently toss from the motion before settling back into classic hime. Lulu''s eyes widened almost imperceptibly, and her mouth opened anew to interject and express further concern - but Purity stopped her, not wanting to cause any further worry.


    "Ah, fu-u-udge, er, fudge. Sorry, Lulu, just... zoned out a little, haha. Happens to the best of us, right? Gah... anyways." Anyways indeed. Purity realized they were just outside of a pair of doors very similar to those that led to her and Est and EJ''s shared bedroom, and that honestly told Purity all she could have wanted or needed to know. They had arrived - it was time to get down to business.


    "Ah, okay. Great, great... sorry if I startled you, sister Purity. Here, c''mon, let''s go in so I can get started on your phone - this sort of thing can take some time." The cover was still in place, even with no one around to hear them discuss. Purity couldn''t rule out hidden cameras or microphones, though, so she begrudgingly acknowledged that there was still a place for the bullshit about her phone. At least, there was for now. The first-living woman hoped they''d be able to cut it out soon.


    Lulu opened one of the two doors, gesturing for Purity to head in at her leisure. Within, it was - at its core - identical to the room Purity was sharing with her lovers. Four large king beds, four wardrobes, four trunks at the feet of the beds, a single table with four chairs near the middle for a spot of tea... but otherwise, this room had been altered drastically.


    Posters of the outside world''s culture were plastered to the wall all around one of the beds: popular bands, video games, and movies all found representation within these paper portraits affixed with tape and glue. Hell, one or two of them were just honest-to-God pinups, displaying women in costume laid out in erotic poses for the audience''s viewing pleasure. This corner of the room also had a sound system plugged into a wall outlet, a variety of alternative fashion ensembles hung in the open wardrobe, and three stacks of books piled in a trio of towers near the head of the bed.


    Lulu gravitated towards this corner almost immediately, hopping onto the not-quite-made bed and patting the comforter just beside her. Purity screwed up her face and gestured to the decor that Lulu had apparently chosen, words unspoken asking for some sort of explanation for this bizarre display. Lulu just laughed, rubbing the back of her head after a moment.


    "Oh, haha! Hahaha! Sorry, sorry- I know, not very nun-y, right? But... Well, since I''m a senior field team member, and I mostly work recon... I get special privileges. Living like a Vitus citizen helps me blend in with real, proper Vitus citizens, you know? So I get all the glitz and gore and guns and glamor a girl could, uh... ge-ask for. Heheh. Sorry, couldn''t think of a ''g'' word that kept the alliteration going." The nun feigned bashfulness, kicking her feet and bowing her head and offering Purity doe eyes in spades.


    Purity supposed that made sense, in the same way as method acting. If she was gonna pretend to be a Vitus native, she should live like one, right? Well, it made as much sense as anything else, at least. The Waywards seemed to have plenty of weird justifications for the little indulgences they partook in, and Purity would be one hell of a hypocrite for asking them about it, or pressing them on it. Instead, she''d just have to accept it.


    Purity hopped up on the bed beside Lulu, right where the black-and-purple haired operative had indicated she should put her butt. The phone was laid on Lulu''s left thigh, between herself and Purity - it wasn''t paid attention to much more than that, though. They had other shit to discuss, and the both of them were far more eager to dive into that than to perform phone repair.


    Lulu was the first to break the silence, chomping at the bit for Purity to begin layering wisdom onto her. "Alright, siste- er, fuck, no, just Purity. Okay, Purity! Where do we start? What kind of Vitus wisdom do you have for me?" It was odd to Purity, seeing how excited Lulu was at the prospect of being instructed on this. She gave off every bit the energy of a child learning a new game, or an animal enthusiast learning about a newly discovered species in some far and exotic part of the world. Puri couldn''t help but find it, begrudgingly, adorable.


    "Well, boo, first off... never ask for something here and specify something like ''gluten free'' or some shit like that. If you go into any butchery and ask for ''gluten free'' options, they''ll immediately peg you as an outsider." ''Why?'' Lulu asked, in Purity''s mind, and the response was simple. Given how about half the population couldn''t eat large quantities of bread at all, gluten free was the standard way that all food existed within Vitus. Food with gluten would have been harder to find.


    And so, one by one, the tips and tricks and tools of the trade were rattled off. The mistress instructed her new student diligently, going so far as to quiz her on little minutiae that most Vitus residents would know (such trivia as ''How do you spell FixAte'', ''How do you pronounce tAsT'', and ''What is the difference between a butchery and a restaurant''). Thankfully, Lulu was a quick learner; she picked up every minute fun fact or gameshow answer she could, her cybernetically augmented brain no down committing the information to literal and figurative memory. God, that must''ve been nice, Purity thought to herself.


    Mixed in with the trivia were questions, Purity''s real reason for coming here and speaking with Lulu in the first place. She began to secure routes to and from the convent, what times they were safest or most frequented, what contacts in town Lulu and her people often went to in order to secure supplies, support, or shelter... The names were all just footnotes that Purity did her best to make a mental note of, even picking her phone up and opening a documentation app so that she might more accurately jot it all down. One name stood out, however.


    "...oh, and Roth Sharique at the Jezzebelle club. I dunno if you''ve ever been... I''ve popped in a few times. I know it''d, uh, haha... it''d be my place to go, if I wasn''t, y''know. A nun. But-" The rest of Lulu''s sentence was sliced clean as Purity leaned forward a few inches and scowled, mind split between elation and exasperation.


    "Roth? Like, the bartender? Yeah, I used to fucking go to the Jezze all the time. And Roth''s been working with the Knights this whole fucking time?! What the hell?! That''s...! God, I fucking wish I could get my hands on him right now, really wring his fucking neck for... Ugh." Purity realized then that Lulu was staring and silent, nowhere near as incensed at Roth as the ex-club darling was. Puri sighed deeply, shoulders lifting and falling as she forced herself to calm down.


    Lulu spoke up after a moment, not quite timid but wanting to ensure that Puri was done with her little outburst. "Yeah, uh, Roth is just an info broker for us. A lot of us girls... we aren''t super into the whole ''killing people by holy mandate'' thing, or at least, we feel better killing assholes. Roth''s a bartender. He tags people for us to, uh... haha, help meet our quota." There was zero genuine joy or mirth in that feigned, pitiful excuse for laughter. Purity''s rage only blossomed anew within her chest.


    Roth. That fucker. It made plenty of sense, he was a lot smarter than most people gave him credit for... but to think, he might have had a hand in orchestrating this whole fucking thing?


    Ugh. She''d have some words for him, once they were streetside - and EJ was tucked away somewhere safe from prying eyes.

 Act Five (Ch. 85) - A Violent Emotion; or, Four Heart Gambit

    Purity opened the door to the bedroom, walking in to the smell of sex in the air and a tingle on her skin. She''d been able to catch the scent from outside - an old trick ingrained from years of service, she always knew when and where the fun was happening. If that fun, of course, included hips colliding and voices drawn warbling from eager chests. Her rose-tinted lenses drifted over to where EJ and Esthrielle lay, panting and staring at the ceiling or with their eyes closed, respectively. She smiled.


    Good. Everything was working as intended.


    The door shut silently in her wake, allowed to glide to shut like it had been greased. Purity''s feet were nearly soundless as she padded across the carpet to meet her lovers, turning about and resting her teardrop physique upon the bed''s edge in a single, graceful motion. She crossed her legs - one thigh atop the other - and laid her hands atop them, folded as if she was at attention. Her smile grew more wicked but insistent, more loving in the way that dogs love chocolate - poisonous, lethal, and yet so very tempting.


    Esper James was laid out on her back, staring up at the ceiling''s stonework, chest rising and falling in rhythmic form. Her waist, and everything below it, was covered - the thick blankets were more than enough to keep the chill from setting in upon her damp, tender, vulnerable flesh. Everything else, however? Exposed, bare as the day she was born, and the day she was born again. Sure felt a hell of a lot better than a cold-womb conception, though.


    Her body was covered in little marks, everywhere Purity''s eyes drifted: bite marks, claw marks, hickeys, bruises, and the shining gleam of a trail of spit as if she had been licked. She was, in that moment, Est''s canvas - and god damn, Purity thought, Esthrielle had really fucking painted.


    Whereas the ghoulette was a flesh-made Picasso, Esthrielle was thankfully more akin to a Van Gogh: carefully, gracefully marked with the love of her partner, in broad brushstrokes that evoked emotion with color alone - yet still, they were exotic enough to garner interest. Esper James had bitten Esthrielle as well, of course, it would''ve been shocking if she hadn''t; however, in contrast to Est''s bites never breaking the skin, EJ had given Est fewer but notably deeper marks upon her torso. The red pinpoints of quickly-clotted wounds were visible in one or two places, about the left shoulder and right thigh (when Purity drew back the covers to check).


    Claw marks, too, were deeper but less frequent. Purity could imagine it now: Purity and Esper James, making love like women possessed, caring little for how very rough and rambunctious they were being with one another so long as their partner enjoyed the song and dance of flesh and blood. They growled, they screamed, they clawed, they nibbled and bit... they sung, in that way of moaning, a hymnal all their own.


    Purity giggled at the thought, visualizing the two little freshly-ex-virgins screwing like beasts in heat. What if Purity had spent longer with Lulu? What if she had given them more juice, really amped Est''s dose? Oops - better not consider that, the pinkette decided. Never knew who was listening, and given the Waywards'' technology... well, she figured they could be tapped into her brain right now. Tsang had been - why wouldn''t the Easterners do the same?


    Est was curled up on herself against EJ''s side, but she felt the bed depress as Purity rested herself atop it - and it would''ve been hard for her to ignore Puri drawing back the bedsheets to inspect the Italian''s hips. She made a soft little groan, head rotating and hair brushing against the bedsheets as she tried to regard Purity. The bubblegum bitch sat upon the bedside smiled down at her, a Cheshire cat in a sapphic henhouse. And by god, this kitty was hungry.


    "Oooh, hell-o, Esthrielle~! Mmnh, did I wake you up? Were you and EJ taking a nap, hmm-mm-mm~? Y''know, if I''m interrupting..." Purity put the pointer of her right hand between Esthrielle''s collarbones, then, tracing a line down her sternum all the wall to the start of her abdomen. She let the touch linger for a moment before curling that finger away, pink-painted nail dragging ever so lightly against Est''s damp skin.


    It made the pleasure-drunk Easterner shudder with muffled delight.


    Est shook her head as best she could, offering up an unsteady, uncertain smile. "N-No, Puri, hey...! Hey, aha, ahaha, no, you''re... You''re good. We''re fine, EJ and I were just, uh..." She allowed her words to trip and fall off the ledge, no more coming as she pondered what could even follow. She didn''t need long, though - nor was she given much time at all, as Purity was hasty to offer teasing interjection. Est''s eyes snapped wide when Purity''s retort came, and she whimpered despite herself; the combat doll secretly, guiltily wished for Purity''s touch once more.


    "You two were just fucking, ri-i-ight~? Ooh, haha, gosh... I''m sad I missed it? You two look fucking adorable, so worn out like this... If you weren''t already panting like you''d run a mile, I''d take a turn of my own to put you through your paces." Purity winked; her touch returned then, so very thankfully for Est, in the form of a palm with splayed fingers against Est''s chest. Again, her sternum... it was a good central location, one that showed Est who was in control - who had power over her. "God knows I''d have you begging and whining like a bitch in heat...~"


    Est whined regardless, crossing her legs and pulling them tight to keep ahold of herself. She was too tired and addled to think any deeper about what was happening, or why - all she knew, all she could perceive, was being drowned in love by her pink-haired princess. She wouldn''t have rather been anywhere else. Est reached with her left hand to take EJ''s right, both to steady herself and to draw Esper James into the scene which was unfolding just beside her.


    Esper James snapped to attention in the same way an old, mentally-fogged pet will acknowledge its master''s voice even through the mists of sleep. She allowed Est to slip their fingers between one another''s, entwining them as their palms kissed in the one-handed embrace. She turned her blonde head, hair pooled like waves of delicious custard all along the pillows and bedsheets. Only when emerald eyes laid their focus upon a buxom woman in a nun''s habit, and the pink hair which curtained her face, did Esper James realize who it was.


    The ghoulette''s previously dissociative expression renewed itself in a joyous beam, lips pulled wide and taut as she showed off her pearl razors in all their glory. Fuck, it was so nice to see Purity again! God, she loved Purity! She loved Purity so much! Purity was so nice to her, and to Est, and she was soft, and she smelled good, and she fucked good, a-and... And... And she really cared about EJ, and...


    Esper James couldn''t think of anything more, so bled out was she on Esthrielle''s loving red that her brain was practically haywire in the afterglow. She didn''t need to think of anything more, though - this was perfectly fine, just those things. And she didn''t even need to say any of it, because Purity leaned over of her own accord and planted a firm, adoring kiss upon EJ''s tummy. Esper James writhed and wriggled in absolute delight, giggling aloud as she simultaneously recoiled from the kiss and yearned for another.


    Her yearning was sated, of course. Purity smooched her once again, now having rolled over to be laying atop both women at once. Est was happy to have a Purity-shaped blanket, and Esper James was ecstatic to have her blood-ripe nerves tantalized by the seductress''s sinful touch. Est went to embrace Purity with little more than a whimper, burying her face into the folds of her habit - and the crook of Purity''s left side. Esper James simply continued to giggle.


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    The rest of their night continued thus, with Purity keeping her girlies entertained in as exhilarating a way she could without putting them through anything too rigorous - tickling, massages, a shared lap-pillow... Everything Purity had in that little black book of strategies, tucked away within her brainpan, she was all too eager to use.


    Eventually, the two woozy women drifted off to a well-deserved sleep, yawning and stretching and curling up upon one another to form a snuggle pile of two. Purity slipped from their embrace in movements remembered as much by muscle as mentality, the absence of their arms around her a bittersweet notion at best. She wished that she could simply lay there with them, drift off to the land of dreams, and then arise bright and early the next evening to truly plan their escape.


    However, she had already planned their exit - and now, she had to put the first aspect of that plan into action.


    Purity slipped back out of the room, careful not to bump anything in the dim and dark. Once she was out in the hallway anew, she drew a slip of paper from the neck of her habit, where she had stored it flush to her skin: a map, leading straight to her target. In theory, of course, this place was fairly byzantine... but fuck it. If she didn''t try now, she''d never get the chance, right?


    Two hallways passed, then a right turn... Three then, and a left... One intersection, then a split left, then a split right... And so on, and so forth, until she drew close to her destination. It was, at this point, nearly eight in the morning... the sun would be rising, and Vitus would be well and truly asleep, for the most part. Purity had been watching, of course, all those weeks they''d been here - she''d seen who was about at what times, and when the flow of nuns was at its ebb, or its flow.


    At eight AM, there was no one but no one in the hallways - the only sisters who would be awake at this point were security staff near the exit, maintenance staff, and field teams engaging in the Vitus equivalent of nightlife. She didn''t see a single nun in the halls as she made her way closer and closer to the object of her venture, though as she drew near the thick oaken door with beautiful etchings of a beautiful meadow and shepherdess, something in the air caught her attention. It made her hair stand on end.


    Something not so dissimilar to the scent she had caught in her own room, nearly two hours earlier... The scent of sex, of human intimacy, though this time tinged with the artificial. There was a noted synthetic element to it, as if it was simply a candle made to smell of sex, or the bodily fluids of a... A-ha!


    Purity''s lips fought valiantly to form into a wicked grin, but she repressed their urges with every ounce of self-discipline she could muster. She could not, would not smile - it may give her away if anyone saw her, and that sure would be a fucking wrench in her plans. However, her steps were now spurred on by more than necessity and ambition - they were driven by curiosity, and while curiosity may have killed the cat, satisfaction is what brought it back. Purity demanded satisfaction.


    The door lay just ahead, cracked but an inch at best - and Purity''s flesh tingled as she drew near, pupils dilating, nostrils flaring. Adrenaline rushed through her veins like water in a log flume as she huddled down beside the door, peeking in with a single eye once she had de-activated the LEDs of her irises. The scene that lay before her would have thrilled even the most prudish Puritan of the UNAC countryside.


    The mother abbess, sat upon the front of her desk, habit lifted and legs spread. A smug look upon her face - one that reeked of superiority, of dominance, and of satisfaction at having orders unspoken be heeded without question. Between her tights, obscuring her womanhood from Purity''s prying gaze, was that blonde girl... what had her name been again? Angelina? Angelica? Angie? Ange... Angelien?


    That one sounded right - the weird, stoic blonde woman that seemed to rub Esthrielle the wrong way. She was, what, Dutch? Dutch sounded right, she had that silly Dutch accent... but enough of that. Here she was, down on her knees, eating holy communion straight from the mother abbess''s tap. Purity wished she had a fucking camera, if only to snap a picture to cackle about with Esthrielle. But she''d just tell Est later, once they were out of the convent, safe and sound away from the nuns... she''d wait until it had been long enough that Est wouldn''t be pissed at her for sneaking around without telling them.


    The mother abbess buried her fingers into Angelien''s hair, urging her to be ever more ravenous in her ministrations - ever more careless about the mess, so long as thighs and cheeks were painted in the end. Purity watched the entire proceeding, morbid curiosity getting more than the better of her, every moment of cunning linguistics burnt into her brain like a wildfire''s kiss. When the mother abbess finally arched her back and released a peaked, relieved sound of indulgent completion, Purity couldn''t help but be thankful. They weren''t in any rush, it had felt.


    Angelien''s head was released, and she slowly made her way to a stand. Her right arm came up to wipe her mouth and face; she still blocked the mother abbess''s nudity from Purity, but Purity was thankful for it at this point. Purity began to rise, expecting that Angelien would be dismissed and that she would need to pretend to not have been watching - what Puri wasn''t expecting was for the mother abbess to speak, and not in a hushed tone.


    "...Angelien, dear, dear Angelien... Thank you, as always. You''re such a good girl for me, aren''t you? Always trying so hard to impress me, no matter the context... Sweating hard in the training field, performing with excellence in the field, disciplining your juniors... And giving your better what she needs, hmm~?" The mother abbess closed her legs, then, and raised her right hand to caress Angelien''s cheek. The blonde said nothing, but Purity could tell she was acquiescing to whatever wordless demands the abbess was making of her.


    "Mmh... good girl, Angelien... You''ve always been my favorite, you know. A shepherd should love each of her sheep equally, but you... You have always been a cut above the rest, for all of our time together. I no longer know how I would continue on without you." The mother abbess used her caressing hand to draw the Dutch woman in for a tender kiss, allowing their lip lock to linger for moments more than what would have been given without passion.


    When they broke apart, Angelien dropped to her knees as if to pray, nearly going prostrate before the abbess. "M-Mother abbess... Please, I-I... I love you. Please... Please, take me as your lover. Is our union not enough to prove that God wants us to be together? Is not the simple fact of our shared tenure here, in this blighted place, a part of His divine plan?" She began to say more, face turning up to offer a pleading expression to her superior, but her words were cut down where they grew.


    The mother abbess tsk''d to herself, feigning a look of pain and regret - the face of a woman who must tell another some regrettable truth, some unfortunate reality. She used her left hand to give Angelien an affectionate, consoling pat, running fingers through her hair for the second time this morning.


    "Ah, Angelien... my beloved... I cannot, not yet. You love me so passionately, so intensely, but you have not yet proven to me completely that you are mine, and that your dedication to me and this convent is complete. I have but one final task for you - if you succeed, then you and I shall lay together, finally, as wives. God will reward you for your adherence - reward us, for our love."


    Purity''s jaw practically dropped as the mother abbess injected this verbal venom straight into Angelien''s secretly tender heart. This woman''s scheming, her willingness to use others'' feelings for her own gain... Well, Purity felt more than justified in her premonition that she and her lovers should leave. But also, at the same time, Purity couldn''t drag herself away from this crack in the door; like a good television drama, this new subplot to her own life was gripping, it was unexpected, and it was juicy in the extreme. She needed to hear, and see, more.


    Angelien ate the bullshit straight from the hand that offered it, lapping up every word that the mother abbess was feeding her without a second guess. The blonde woman nodded feverishly, eyes wide, smile suppressed so she may instead give off stoic determination. She pushed herself awkwardly to a stand once more, leaning close to the mother abbess in her eagerness to show how willingly she would follow orders.


    "Y-Yes, mother abbess...! Please, please! Tell me what I must do! I would d-do... I would do anything for you, I...!" Her words failed her, and before she could recount them, a single index finger was placed gingerly at her lips. The mother abbess smirked only enough to display her affection, holding back the self-satisfaction that such an expression no doubt held.


    "Sister Zofia... She is, sadly... corrupted by heretical influence. She is too far gone to be saved, and she poses a risk of defection. We must... You must deal with her. However you feel is appropriate. She will be judged, as all souls must be, by God... but here, on earth, she must not obstruct His will."


    Purity''s jaw would have dropped twice if it could. Sadly, she only had one jaw to drop.

 Act Five (Ch. 86) - Princess Tulip; or, Yesterday Never Was

    Purity was up on her feet as quickly as she could manage without falling over, the soft-soled shoes provided by the convent giving her just enough stability to practically leap to a stand. In the distant past, when they still held the Olympic Games, race walking was one of the most consistently-held - and consistently ignored - events. Purity could have put some contestants to shame with her motions through those barren hallways, too afraid to run but too anxious to not hurry.


    A few ideas popped into her brain, flashing like notifications on a heads up display (something she, ironically, had - but hadn''t received new updates for a month at least). First and foremost? She needed to get back to Esper James and Esthrielle. She needed to be back to them as quickly as she possibly could, regardless of the consequences. What she had just seen was more than a mere confirmation of her suspicions.


    It had been the final nail in that sad pine box she had been ready to put this whole convent experience in. Now, all that remained was to provide the eulogy and toss it into an unmarked pit in the ground. Sure, the mother abbess hadn''t said anything about Purity, or EJ, or Est... but the implication was clear. Zofia had been ''corrupted by heretical influences'', or something to that degree, right? That was them. That was the three women, and Vitus itself - they represented the heresy, even if they weren''t actively shunning the Knights'' ways.


    First, they would come for Zofia - and if Purity said nothing or did nothing because it didn''t apply to her, then it soon would be her neck upon the chopping block. There was no way the pinkette could allow that to happen.


    The second idea was that she needed to talk to Kell. She''d sent Kell some texts, of course... a handful, in fact. Seemingly innocuous, good-natured, even saccharine; Purity had asked so casually and sweetly what Kell was up to, how things were in the city. She had yet to receive a reply, as far as Purity had seen - the one-time queen bee had left her phone in the room so that an untimely notification didn''t give away her presence. She''d call Kell if she had to, she''d figure something out... Purity always figured something out. A grim sort of satisfaction came over her, then, twisting her lips upward into a smile that could only be described as cruel. Cruel towards who, though? Herself?


    Purity had always figured something out, always made do. She had found a place to live when she had no roof over her head, she had found food when her stomach felt like a knot from starvation, she had kept warm when the winter''s chill threatened her tender flesh. Last time she''d needed to ''make it work'', to ''figure something out'', she''d been picked up by Tsang - but now, what choice did she really have? To give up? To lay down and die, to accept whatever fate the Knights saw fit to deliver unto her and her lovers?


    No. No way, no fucking way, fuck that. She felt the skin of her heart grow hard as steel even as the interior withered away, the aftershocks of the resolution. She would do whatever it took, regardless of personal suffering, to keep the three of them safe. They trusted her; they loved her. What would it all be for, if she were to just falter so near the finish line? To collapse when they needed her so badly? To fumble it all?


    In truth, Purity had no idea if Hell was real, or if there was any sort of afterlife - but she knew in her heart of hearts that, if she simply let herself curl inward and be weak, and put up no fight, Hell is surely where she deserved to be. A grim thought came to mind, melancholy with a tinge of gallows humor she couldn''t help but wince at: maybe if she went to Hell in life, she would keep the three of them from such a fate once the curtains closed. Just a cheerful little thing to consider.


    The third and final idea, the last thought she had the mental bandwidth to even allow to rattle about her brainpan, was thus: they needed to find Zofia. It was regrettable, but pragmatic - if it came down to it, Zofia would be the first sacrifice Purity would be willing to make. If it truly, truly came to it? She would leave Zofia to die, or be tortured, or whatever Angelien would figure out for her. She would allow the Knights'' kindness to become cruelty in the face of dissent, and watch from the sidelines as Zofia was taken as a casualty and swallowed up by the internal politics of an institution she herself had no fondness for.


    It would suck. Of course it would suck. God, it would fucking suck - but everything seemed to suck in this horrible world mankind had made for itself, didn''t it? Purity had slacked in history classes all her academic career, but she could still remember humanity''s predisposition for cruelty alongside its great many comforts. There never existed a period within human history where conflict was absent, and adversity was suppressed.


    Here, then? In Vitus? It was as cutthroat as it had ever been, if not more so. It was a man-made habitat where the deciding factor was selfishness and ambition - and if you didn''t have either, and the willingness to put them into action, you''d be trampled underfoot and snapped up like fresh meat.


    Ugh.


    She refocused herself upon seeing the door to their shared bedroom - and a chill ran down her spine as she saw it was open a sliver. Barely enough to be notable, it could''ve easily been the wind... if wind existed in an underground bunker-complex. But Purity knew she hadn''t left the door open when she left to go spy on the mother abbess. She had made a specific effort to ensure it was closed, that her lovers were undisturbed... and now here it was, open just enough that a fly could have slipped through with good aim. But it was enough.


    Purity''s blood ran cold. She abandoned the deceptive measure of the race walking, instead going straight to a jog; she reached the door and threw it open, readying herself as best she could to find some unspeakable, unthinkable atrocity. What she found took the wind from her sails with the power of a gut punch, and set her so deeply into sudden weakness she nearly toppled like a block tower.


    Lulu was there, sat on the bed beside EJ, speaking gently and emphatically. Esper James and Esthrielle were awake, now - still tucked in beneath the covers, but now sat up against the headboard and pillows. Their upper bodies were revealed of bedsheets and left to lay bare, though no one seemed to mind; their laps, however, were covered yet by the comforter and an upscale-looking metal tray. Three ramekins sat atop the tray, along with a bowl of sugar, a trio of spoons, and troupe of cloth napkins.


    Fuck. Purity''s head swam as relief flooded in and pressure flooded out, the sudden wave of anxiety that had crashed into her brain now being released like water from a ballast tank. Her vision grew hazy as she dropped to her knees, a stupid smile slapping itself together upon her cherry blossom lips as the three women at the bed turned to address her. She didn''t even hear what they said - it came to her through the fog, but only as a dull, deafened mumble. She could tell there was sound, but the hammer of stress had fractured her senses as it came and left, and now she was barely even holding on to consciousness. Even that, too, began to slip through her fingers.


    Suddenly she was falling even further, leaning back without thinking of it - her eyes seemed to move on their own, looking now to the ceiling as something tapped her on the back of the head. The air sure was soft in the bedroom... and supportive, too. She leaned against the air at her back while her vision grew even more distorted, until it felt like a good plan to just close her eyes. Just for a moment. Just a quick rest.


    -


    When Esper James had heard a knock on the door, she had first grumbled and looked for Est to get it - and, seeing Est had also been asleep, she had then sought Purity. Purity turned out to be fucking nowhere... and it was still dark in the room, like they had been taking a full sleep. How had they fallen asleep? What had happened?


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    All she could remember was a sudden lust overtaking her - she had been nearly feral, something about Esthrielle''s needfulness lighting a fire in the ghoulette''s chest that refused to be quenched. Now, once more returned to wakefulness, she had been drawn out of dreamless sleep into post-coital exhaustion. The only answer, then, to the knock at the door? A yell that came out more akin to an indignant yowl, the sound of a street cat raised up and out of rut by a passing person.


    The door had opened, and Lucretia had stepped in - holding a rectangular platter with handles on either side, dressed with a doily and three leftover desserts from dinner. The Knight infiltrator had given a single nod before stepping in and nudging the door closed with a single foot - the way her bob bounced and swayed made Esper James think of a black-and-purple capped mushroom brought to life. It was cute, she thought.


    Lucretia had explained that she was thankful for how nice the three ladies had been to her tonight, and to everyone else in the convent thus far - and they had had some creme brulees left over from women who didn''t want theirs. It would have been a shame to let such delicious desserts go to waste, Lulu said, giving Esper James a wink; EJ was hardly in the mood to refute her. To the blonde, this seemed like the ideal evening, honestly: passionate, primal intimacy with one of her partners in such a cushy, comforting bed, and then to be brought bonus dessert in bed by a cute girl who was nice to her?


    Fuck, the little meat-eater needed to pinch herself about the back of the bicep to make sure she wasn''t asleep.


    Est had been roused by the infiltrator''s approach, and they had gotten to talking - about anything and everything, in truth, but Lulu had gone straight for the throat after a bit. The words ''I know you''re leaving soon'' put a railroad spike through Esper James'' heart, and she had leapt to rebuke the accusation. Lulu had been too confident, too assured, though; there had been no shaking the foundations of her beliefs.


    EJ had conceded, and Est had brooked no quarrel with the decision. And so, they had started to discuss the reasons for their exodus - tentatively at first, unsure of just how much they could get away with saying to Lulu about their thoughts on the mother abbess. It became far more candid, however, after the mushroom girl openly called the abbess a ''domineering bitch'' who ''uses her position to oppress vulnerable girls'' and further venomous rhetoric.


    The conversation had progressed little past that point by the time Purity burst through the door, looking at the trio of women for a mere moment before she fucking collapsed where she stood. Esper James nearly knocked the tray to the ground when Purity''s head hit the floor, desserts only saved by Lulu''s quick reflexes. Est was right behind EJ as she vaulted the foot of the bed, hurrying to Puri''s heap as quickly as her body would allow.


    Slender arms went about Purity''s fallen form, going to whisk her up with a strength belied by their lean appearance. Esper James and Esthrielle worked as one, wordlessly agreeing to hoist their lover and carry her to the bed - and once there, they laid her down without daring to adjust her habit. Purity''s breathing was normal, her pulse was fine, her flesh felt warm in that normal humanesque way... Or at least, so EJ figured. Esthrielle probably had thermometers in her fingers or something, so she trusted the Wayward woman more than her own intuition.


    Est drew in a long, deep breath, and heaved it out in a rush of concern. "Phe-e-ew. What the fuck. Puri... I just assumed she was in the bathroom, y''know? But... Hey, Lulu, do you-" Est didn''t even get the chance to finish that sentence before Lulu was drawing up the hem of her habit, revealing supple, bared legs of fair complexion. EJ was confused instantly - what the fuck was she doing - but it was good practice for a person to shut their yap and pay attention when they were so far out of the loop. And, as far as the loop was currently concerned? Esper James was in a different zip code entirely.


    Once the deceiver''s thigh was revealed, temptingly close to revealing something better left concealed, Esper James learned the intent. There was a nigh-upon subaural click that came from what should have been the woman''s thigh meat - then, the tender flesh was moved away as a medical kit was revealed within her prosthetic leg. Holding the hem of her habit with one hand, she used the other to select a small vial of indeterminate white substance. The vial was offered to Esthrielle, who then unscrewed the metal cap.


    One whiff of the salts in the glass tube sent Esper James to a coughing, sniffling fit, her nostrils and lungs sting-burning as she staggered towards the door to make herself useful. She wasn''t close to the vial, but she figured it must be smelling salts - she''d never partaken in her own life or unlife, but it was all she could imagine it may be. Even from this distance, to have such an effect? The ghoulette shivered as she shut the heavy wooden door.


    There was a moment of tense silence from behind her, towards the bed - and then a gasp, further sniffling, and a few coughs. EJ turned about just in time to see Esthrielle screw the cap back onto the vial and tuck it back into Lulu''s thigh. Lulu shut her thigh, dropped her habit hem back down, and Est sighed in relief as Purity''s eyes snapped open.


    "Oh, f-f-fuck, where...?! What-? Oh! Oh, haha, oh, fuck, hahahahaha! Oh, wow... Hi, girlies! I... Wow, I... I''m good! I''m good, I promise!" Purity shut her eyes as a wide smile painted itself from corner to corner across her lips, shuffling about on her elbows to prop her back up to a sitting position. Est put a hand on either one of Purity''s shoulders to steady her, ensuring she wasn''t unstable - and when Purity proved that she was, in fact, good? Est flopped back on the bed in utter relief.


    Esper James was struck by the sight: Purity dressed like a nun and laid up in bed, Est flopped beside her as bare as the day she was born, and Lulu sat patiently with a tray of creme brulee across her lap. There was an absurdity to it that, paired with the relief of seeing Purity have such a quick recovery, drew a single barking laugh up out of the ghoulette''s chest.


    Then another. And another, and another, and another - each chuckle a single stone rattling down the hillside of her emotions, a prelude to the landslide of true, spontaneous mirth. She was joined in by the other women after mere moments, and soon all four of them were falling about themselves as the anxiety and concern that had held them rapt were stripped free and cast away. The laughter went on and on, minutes passing without scrutiny - that is, until Purity drew in a sharp breath.


    Oh, fuck. That was right. The reason she ran here in the first place.


    Purity grit her teeth and drew in another breath, longer and heartier but without such immediacy. It gave her the time she needed to steel herself for what she had to say, and the decisions she had to make. She waited, then, until the other women were well and truly finished laughing; Puri briefly considered if it was okay to say this around Lulu, but something told her that Lulu wasn''t a threat. Lulu wouldn''t fuck them over.


    And if she would? Well, that was a risk they''d have to take. There was only so much leeway Purity had with how she could go about this, and time was limited. Lucretia was already here, and so... fuck it. Maybe she''d even help.


    "EJ, Est? We... We need to speed up our plans. Like. Now. Now-now. The mother abbess, she... Ah... Zofia''s in danger, and if she''s in danger, then-" Purity had more to say but she wasn''t sure what it was, little more than a jumble of thoughts wherein she dipped her hand and drew out whatever was to be found within the murk. Est interrupted her in an instant, eyes wide for a split second before narrowing down to furtive, concern-riddled slits.


    "Purity? Tell us later. It doesn''t matter. If you think we... If you think we need to go now, then we go now. Explaining might waste time - we trust you. Lulu knows, too, so don''t worry about her." Est had propped herself up on a single arm, but at the revelation that they needed to fucking leave and do it ASAP, she scrambled to a stand.


    Standing beside the bed, she dropped down to the floor and reached beneath the curtain of the comforter - and started to pull out the clothes the three had arrived in. Esper James, still reeling from this revelation that they had to fucking get into motion, could have cried at Esthrielle''s foresight to have their clothes stowed away. The ex-secretary hurried over to where Est was tossing the clothes, beginning to don her own garments as quickly as she could - what was left of them, at least. She hadn''t exactly been dressed for the weather when they''d arrived here...


    Lulu cleared her throat, expression dropping and mood going solemn. Her lips still smiled, though it was sad - sad, and regretful. "Ladies... I think I can help. Let me... Let me go get Zofia, and I''ll... Guh. I''ll find a way for the girl manning the door tonight to let us out - cabin fever, or field research, or training, or fucking something. I''ll..." She reinforced her smile for a moment before its crystalline surface shattered into a million fractured pieces, the kindness found within relating more with that of a veterinarian putting down an animal in pain than genuine happiness. She was sorry it had come to this - but was happy she could help out, in some way.


    With her hoodie and pants on, Esper James crossed the distance between herself and Lucretia in an instant - her arms were thrown out and about the nightshade-haired girl, squeezing her so tightly she seemed liable to break the nun in half. EJ''s heart was lodged within her throat, but she found the strength to force words past it - only two, but their weight was more than enough.


    "Thank you."

 Act Five (Ch. 87) - Vapour Transmission; or, Rot Deeply Set

    The three women packed up what few belongings they even had while Lulu made her way off into the convent, legs moving as swiftly as they could given the need for secrecy. In the interim, that interlude between group actions, Esper James and her two lovers were left to ponder their next moves - and their futures.


    Purity had snatched up her little blonde babygirl and sat on the bedside, holding Esper James like a blood-loving teddy bear. Esper James, in turn, did her best to remain calm in the face of this sudden anxiety; she snuggled back into her pretty pink princess as best she could without pressing herself bodily into the taller woman. Purity''s buxom form made ample cushion, EJ felt... and while it wasn''t exactly the time to be thinking of such things, she couldn''t very well ignore it, either. She snuggled her head back in, shifting from left to right to really worm her way into Purity''s embrace.


    Esthrielle, meanwhile, sat askew and with a faux, nearly pretentious sort of casualness. Her upper body was only halfway on the chair she had commandeered, a great measure of her lower body stretched out into open air - the android''s organic spine was bent awkwardly, but she feigned a lack of discomfort. Crimson eyes stared out at her twinned lovers in their impromptu snuggle-seat, but a single glance would inform an outside observer that she wasn''t really looking. Her pupils were focused elsewhere.


    Purity smelled, as ever, of pink fruits and bubblegum and cherries and... and... Esper James sniffed with something resembling effort, trying to focus on that scent. Her forebrain screamed at her that now wasn''t the fucking time for this, now wasn''t the fucking place to think about how Purity fucking smelled - and yet, she couldn''t help herself. The little primordial beast that lived in her subconscious, that second-brain of instinct and intuition, told her that now was the best chance she''d ever get for it. And so... Esper James tried to focus on it with every bit of effort she could muster without outright burying her face into her lover''s bosom.


    She was reminded, then, of her time in the lab with Zofia and the mother abbess. She thought of sprinting, of allowing that hidden, unspeakable demon that lay within animal instinct and the mind unminded to take control and put every ounce of her mental power towards a singular, mundane action. It had ended, of course, with a gunshot... but there was no gun here, not yet. And it''s not like she''d give herself an aneurysm from smelling too hard.


    Right?


    Fuck it, EJ thought. Adrenaline was already pumping through her black-blooded veins, a gold striation of lightning coursing through a sludgy oil river... she may as well make use of the body that had been forced upon her. What was the use of these heightened senses, these genetically engineered muscle fibres and bones and blood and synapses, if she didn''t use them?


    It was as good a cope as any to justify what came next. Esper James could feel her active consciousness pared away, dulled like a knife''s blade rubbed in dirt... but, what remained was still enough that she could focus on what her body found in her brain''s stead. Diesel was the first thing it reminded her of, diesel with a sugary undertone. The scent of the slow-burning fuel had been drilled into Esper James''s brain ever since she had first died, diesel spraying out of the ruined husk of the very semi that had crushed her like a jewel-shelled beetle. But this wasn''t that - not quite. There was something deeper.


    Diesel... and cinnamon? And sugar. She could feel her other senses, other types of perception, waning like the phases of the moon as she poured everything she had into this. Why would Purity have such a chemical smell, one with a medicinal undertone like star anise... it certainly wasn''t from the body wash in the showers. It wasn''t from anything they ate, right? And sure, Esper James knew that Purity wasn''t entirely organic - and what was organic of her had been tinkered with by Tsang. But why would she...?


    Something smacked Esper James on the cheek - the dulled sting, and the shifting in her vision, shook her out of the trance without question. Her visual focus returned gradually, as if the entirety of her sightlines were composed of peripheral vision at first. As the focus returned, she realized that she hadn''t been hearing anything either... nothing but the dull background bass of sounds, hearing the vibration of it all more than the actual sound. As her focus came back, she saw Esthrielle leaned down in front of her - no longer splayed across the seat, but standing with her legs while her torso was bent nearly ninety-degrees. The Italian gave EJ another gentle slap, her face etched with concern.


    "...? ...J, ca... ...ar me-? EJ... Fu-, Purity, I think she''s... some kin- of episo-..." Snippets of what Est was saying filtered through ears that had yet to learn to refresh themselves, organs that had never learned to deafen and undeafen without issue. What her cinnamon-toned tomboy was saying was easy enough to piece together, though, and the concern on Esthrielle''s face was enough to speed along the process of re-focusing. EJ gasped for a gulp of air to replace the wind she now realized she hadn''t been sucking, rushing to respond.


    "Ahh! Est! Est, Purity, I''m...! I''m fine! I''m fine, I... I just zoned out, okay? Just a little, uh... Look, we''re waiting for Zofi and Lulu, and I kinda... got lost in my own thoughts about, uh, what we''re gonna do when we get out. Where we''re gonna go. Ah, uh... Puri!" Esper James was satisfied (or at least set at-ease) by the way the worry melted like ice from Est''s face, and the death grip Purity had put on her - another thing the blonde hadn''t realized until now - faded into gentle comfort.


    Purity nodded in acknowledgement, leaning her head down and aside to address her lap-bound lover. "Yeah, sweetie? What is it?"


    Her LEDs were back to the dazzling blue that Esper James had begun to think of as her ''standby'' phase, the phase between any sort of accentuated action - it was a comforting look, the ghoulette felt. Humanized her already human lover more than she was; more than Tsang had allowed her to be. Looking Purity in the piercing blues, EJ couldn''t help but think of her sweet-diesel undertone... but that could wait. It had to.


    "Puri, any word from Kell? Is- is she gonna be able to get here to pick us up?" The lack of immediate answer told Esper James the worrisome truth, but Purity still put on the act, as she was apt to do. The pinkette drew out her phone from within her shirt, where it had sat tucked away between her breasts - old habits died hard, after all. There was some semblance of a performance as Purity went through the motions of checking the lock screen notifications, unlocking it, and then checking yet again... and smacking her lips, offering a grand sigh, and concluding her act with a very deliberate shrug.


    "Nope. Kell is doing whatever a Kell does. But - we''ve got Lulu, right? Lulu''ll get us out; her info is good, I''m sure of it... and then, we''ll be home free. But, uhh... EJ? Can you do me a favor when we get out?" Purity''s calm fa?ade, so well-practiced, was still put to the test as she was blindsided by the remembrance of her lover''s newfound infamy. After all, her notifications had been flooded with Tsang News Nexus alerts about potential sightings.


    EJ raised a brow at the sudden request of a favor that was dependent on them being outside, but she didn''t dare refuse her lover... and so she simply nodded, doeish emerald eyes gazing up at the bubblegum bitch. Purity put on a smile both soft and reassuring before giving her request. "Put... Put your hood up, yeah? Hood up, head down. Est and I, uh... We''re more normal looking than you, yeah?" The justification was flimsy. All three of them knew it, too, and Purity - feeling sweat begin to bead at her forehead from the sudden fault in her deception - scrambled to reinforce her reasoning.


    "Err, at least, like. Tsang''ll have your face on record, and if any of the cameras decide to scan you... If they scan you, they''ll come get you. I''m... not in the system, since legally, I was never an employee. Okay?" That was enough to lower her partners'' guards somewhat, at the very least. This time, her reasoning was sound - in theory. Esper James would be picked up by any of Tsang''s automated camera systems, the modern panopticon of corporate control specifically orchestrated to nab anyone who stepped outside their designated lane.


    The part about Purity not being picked up by it was more suspect - surely, with all the money they would have spent on a first-living so specially modified as her, they would be looking to recoup losses as best they could. EJ figured that that would be, knowing Tsang and Judas especially, one of two things: ripping out all her tailored organs and biomechanical implants, and leaving her bleeding to death like a victim of an organ repossession racket... or selling her to the highest bidder, given she was already purpose-built for a certain type of work. Tsang was privately owned, but with the sort of feudal infighting that existed between high-level execs? Someone''d pay a pretty penny for a piece of perfect, pink Purity.


    Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    The very idea made Esper James shudder in disgust, and reaffirmed her willingness to go along without argument.


    The blonde nodded, giving Purity''s thigh a squeeze meant more to give comfort than to get a feel of her girlfriend. "Y-Yeah, Purity, I... Yeah. Sure. Okay. I''ll keep my head down, hands in my pockets, just follow you two''s feet on the sidewalk. Let you do the talking. Works for me." Esper James nodded again, one single bob, as she finished the statement. Her dazzling greens flicked over to Est to see her reaction, see how she was feeling about this plan.


    Est seemed like she was chomping at the bit to say something, anything, to interject and cause a scene and interrogate the buxom beauty like a detective in a murder investigation. Thankfully for Purity, however, Esper James''s glance to the Wayward set the latter party at ease - or at least, it caused her to back down and reconsider her course of action. Esthrielle wouldn''t get the chance to think of a new approach in time.


    The door to the dorm opened, swung carefully and with measured motion by a pair of habit-clad ladies. Lulu''s black-and-purple bob shook gently as she strode into the room, a thick-looking pistol of blocky construction and shadow-hued polymer held in her left hand. Zofia trailed behind, wrists linked by a zip-tie and eyes boring a hole in the floor with every step. Lulu raised the handgun before any of the three other women in the room could react, aiming directly at Esthrielle first and foremost, index finger brushing against the trigger...


    ...and slipping off of it, back to an at-rest position just alongside the handgun''s horizontal length. "Esthrielle Esippardi, Purity Francharde, and Esper James Price-Wynnfield, come with me. The church has found the three of you, and this one-" Lulu gestured to Zofia with her free right hand, then, the motion as callous as it was emphasized. "-guilty of heresy, conspiracy to undermine the Knights of Saint Lazarus, and plotting to defect to the hated enemy. You three will accompany ex-sister Zofia as my captives, so that I may administer your punishment: execution and cremation."


    This may as well have been a tonal and verbal sledgehammer to EJ''s spine. Her eyes snapped wide, and tears began to form nearly immediately as she felt her heart shatter and her hope fade into nothing. Little more than a disgusting ebon muck remained within the poor girl''s heart, and she allowed herself to bawl openly as the terror of true-death and the despair of condemnation washed up and over her.


    Esthrielle visibly considered trying to rush the other woman, making some last-ditch attempt to subdue and dispatch her so they could make a break for it... but the Italian was too close to Purity and EJ to risk it; even if Lulu fired and missed, she might paint the walls and floors with Est''s lovers'' blood and brain matter. She instead chose to simply grit her teeth and sneer at the deceiver, brows furrowed and steel bared, her mechanized fingers and synthesized muscles twitching and flexing with impotent rage at the situation.


    Purity gave EJ a tight squeeze, her own face falling, her own heart torn to little pink shreds upon the damp, dank floor of the soul''s prison. A wavering breath in was concluded with a phenomenal, quivering sigh of absolute resignation... and she stood, lifting EJ with her, nodding to Lucretia in acceptance of her fate.


    Lulu adjusted her pistol, doing her best to catch Esthrielle''s gaze. The two met eyes in the still and silence, the only sound in the room being EJ''s utter howling... and Lulu winked. Briefly, imperceptible to anyone but the three women in the room, and to that end EJ and Purity weren''t even looking at the black-and-purple haired woman. Only Est saw the wink, and even when she did, she remained taut as a snare drum tuned too far. A single blow more seemed like it could shatter Est like an ice sculpture.


    "Come on, Puri, EJ. Let''s go. Better to... Better to go gracefully, right? At least... at least we can hold hands in the car. O-One last t-t-time." Est''s words and tone began to break down as she finalized her sentiment, brain overriding her tear ducts'' systems to form twin beads of sadness at either eye. She blinked them away, and they ran rivers from eyelid to chin to drop silently to the carpet.


    Purity, too, began to cry. Softly and silently, but still she wept openly in solidarity with her lovers. Even Zofia couldn''t stop herself from beginning to crack, lips warping and wobbling into sneers and grimaces and scowls and pouts until eventually she couldn''t fight the waves of heavy emotion any longer. Lulu was the only woman in the room who wasn''t shedding tears, though her stony expression did hold some modicum of suppressed, rueful sorrow. Regret lingered in the fibres of her visage, just below the surface.


    The girl with the gun cleared her throat, re-asserting herself as the one in charge and the center of attention. "Come, then. We''ll head to the front exit. I''ve requisitioned a vehicle to transport the four of you in - we''ll drive to the Bauldemont Street crematorium, and you will receive one final opportunity to offer the Lord your repentance." The left corner of her stoic grimace flicked upwards for half a second or less, barely moving at all - but moving nonetheless.


    "I cannot execute you here, on holy grounds. To sully the convent with the blood of sinners and heretics would be blasphemy in and of itself You will meet final death in this blighted city you call home, without the grace of dying on holy ground. Come along, lest I need drag you." She stared at Esthrielle for one moment more, their eyes locked in this most tense of moments. And then, she broke the gaze - turning on a heel and heading out of the room. Lulu nearly pushed Zofia to the ground as she moved by her; once outside, she used her handgun to gesture for her captives to march in front of her.


    Purity was the first to move, doing as she was told despite the sobbing and the trembling and the temptation to fall to the ground and scream and shriek. EJ came along with her, of course - half-held by Purity as she was, she had little choice in the matter. Frankly, Purity''s motion and insistence helped Esper James find the strength to even walk in the first place. Without her? EJ may have simply collapsed in a heap.


    Esthrielle marched forth as well, movements slow and stiff, as if her entire body was made of stilts. Once all the ladies were out of the room, Lulu flicked off the lights and shut the door. Then, with a gesture of her gun, she directed them forth. "March, sinners. May the Lord judge you for your sinful, reprehensible ways." And so, they did as she said - marching forth, slowly but surely, towards the main gate. It was no solemn procession - even given the time of day-night, Esper James''s howling and Purity''s open bawling and Zofia''s snorting, sorrow-wracked sobs drew the attention of what few nuns were yet awake.


    No one said anything, but... when Esper James''s eyes were open, what few moments they were between her expressions of despair, she would have liked to believe that she saw something beneath the impassive, stoic faces of the nuns who formed their audience. She would have liked to believe that there was some sadness and reluctance and deep ache to be found therein, some kind of forgiveness begged for from each and every one - both to Esper James for allowing this to happen, but to a higher power for their participation, or lack of intervention, in this horrid five-person parade.


    Eventually, they made it to the front gate. Lulu and the woman at the door spoke wordlessly, glimmering irises flickering like strobe lights as a thousand messages were exchanged in a single moment. The heavy portal was opened, and they were allowed - once again - back out into the city. The deceiver-cum-captor directed her captives towards a bulky white utility van, unmarked but given an appropriate layer of grime and wear. The back was thrown open, and they were shuffled into the barren interior - forced to sit side-by-side, knees to their chests, shoulders brushing with every mere breath.


    Lulu slammed the doors to the back shut, and went to walk about and around to the driver''s seat. There were some moments then of isolation and pain, Lulu taking agonizingly long to make her way to the cockpit of the utility van... and when she did, she had changed nearly completely. Esper James registered some sort of muted shock at the quick-change, but it was too far from her mind for active consideration.


    Now in a distinctly punk ensemble of blacks and purples and whites, with her makeup done in a similar fashion, Lulu looked more apt to attend a rave than Sunday mass. She didn''t turn back to address her captives; rather, she simply put the key in the ignition, started the engine, and began to drive. No need for a seatbelt, it seemed.


    The van lurched up and out of the underground parking lot that made the convent''s entry fa?ade, hitting the Vitus streets and immediately dropping down the first alleyway it could find. Vitus'' daylight was as muffled as ever by the thick shroud of toxic smog which wreathed the city''s skyline, but it was still plenty bright for EJ and her beloved beauties; if they weren''t so busy being distraught, and having perceptions numbed down to the wick by grief and despair, they would have winced at the sting of semi-natural light.


    In the alleyway, Lulu shifted the vehicle to park. The designated executioner spun around in her seat, apologetic smile slathered from ear to ear on her face - she wore prosthetic fangs now, plated in silver both top and bottom, and had found a way to quickly apply piercings to brow, lip, and septum... She had been busy outside that van, hadn''t she?


    "Ok, ladies! I... fuck, sorry about that, haha...! I feel bad, b-but, aha, uh... we''re out! Where to now?"

 Act Five (Ch. 88) - Trust in Me; or, M茅nage au Trouble

    Esthrielle nearly leapt to the front of the van to savage Lucretia, fangs bared and eyes wide with absolute rage - and she would have, if Purity hadn''t grabbed her by either hip as soon as the Italian began to move. Lulu''s eyes flashed wide for a moment, a single breath, but her expression returned to joviality without delay; it was, however, tinged with guilt.


    "You fucking bitch! You horrible, wretched, cock-sucking fucking whore! I''m gonna-" Est fought against Purity''s grip, arms flailing as she clawed at Lulu''s face, fingertips mere inches away from making purchase. She wasn''t really trying, of course; wasn''t putting her whole strength and will into it. Purity knew it, Lulu knew it, and Esthrielle couldn''t help but know she didn''t actually want to assault the woman in the driver''s seat... she just didn''t know what else to do, how else to react.


    Esper James had ceased her tearshed, now staring with doe-in-headlight eyes at the women before her. She instinctively threw her arms around Purity, holding her so very tightly... clinging to the pinkette, really, like a frightened puppy seeking shelter in its owner''s shade. Her mind was a blur, thoughts tossed into whirlwind disarray; she wished she knew what the fuck was happening, or why, or what to do. All she could think to do was follow her instincts, in the end - and her instincts were to seek comfort as best she could.


    The comfort she sought was found in the worn fabric of Purity''s shirt, and the warmth of what flesh lay just below. It was, as it always was, a pleasant juxtaposition - the heat of the living against the cool of the not-quite-as-alive, true life against the manmade facsimile born in a cold-womb. Purity didn''t smell as much like perfume as she usually did, but that was fine - Esper James didn''t even pay mind to her peach pink lover''s scent this time. Ghoulish senses were too focused on sight and sound to even consider smell.


    Zofia yet sobbed, but with less gusto than before. Her heartbreak had come and gone, all the tears in her body wrung free like water from a dishrag; now, though her body went through the motions, she had little sorrow left to be brought out. Her chocolate eyes snapped between Esthrielle and Lulu and Purity in equal measure, slowing only once Est''s furor began to fade.


    Rage had bloomed within Est where despair had once made its home, but it went as quickly as it came. With Purity''s hands on her hips and absolute silence in the van other than the sounds of breath (and a single woman''s intermittent sobs), all that furious fuel was burnt through to fumes. Est stopped her flailing; she dropped to her knees, prosthetic knees taking the impact without a whisper of complaint. The loud thud of it made Zofia jump, though - and give out a short yip of surprise and fear. She would have blushed, had anyone turned to look her way.


    Est continued to stare Zofia down, eyes locked, her own chest heaving with breaths left ragged from crying and cursing in equal turn. Purity pulled her back, off of her knees and onto her ass; the warlike Wayward was wrapped in loving arms, held close enough to feel their owner''s heartbeat. It was the best that Puri could really do, but it was more than enough. Esthrielle drew in a single shaky breath, and then released it in a flood of vented emotions - the hydraulics in her arms puffed as well, signaling their own winding down. She was calm - as calm as she could be in the situation, at least. It would have to be enough.


    Lucretia cleared her throat, gaze flitting to the floor of the van for a split second before returning to Est''s own. Thin lips split wide, their painted nature making the wobble of them all the more obvious. "A-Ah, uh... eh... Eheheh... S-Sorry. Sorry, fuck, sorry. I wanted to get you guys out, right? But... But I saw Angelien in the hall, headed towards the armory. It was a split second decision; I knew it''d work, they''d let us all go free, b-but... Fuck, aha, fuck. I''m so-"


    More words were set to follow, loaded in the chamber and prepped to be fired, but Est quashed their chance at life. She huffed heavily, loudly, perhaps a bit performatively; then, the Italian slammed her eyes shut and screwed up her face, readying her own blistering bit of rhetoric in an instant. As it came out, though, her invective wasn''t nearly so scalding as it seemed it should have been.


    "Fuck you. I''m done with saying it, I just... I had to get that last one out of my system, haha. B-But, gah... You''re right. As much as I hate to say it, you were right to do it like this, and you''re still right to have pulled it off without telling anyone. I... I''m so pissed at you, Lulu, b-but... But I won''t be forever. In time, I''ll calm down. And I''m sure I''ll feel bad about being such a bitch to you." In the silence of the van and the acoustics of its metal interior, her monologue came across with titanic weight.


    She pressed on, pushing her oratory advantage before some third party saw fit to slip in. "You... You scared me. Scared the four of us. You did the right th-thing, though, and... Thank you for it. Where will you go?" The question bore similar weight to the preceding statements, and Lulu''s eyebrows raised as if she had been slapped; surprise flashed to her face, but an awkward smile formed as her brows returned to their resting state.


    "I''m gonna stick with you four! C''mon, Est, we both know I can''t fucking go back, h-haha! They''d kill me! Literally! Helping you three get out is one thing, but Zofia? The mother abbess would find a way to get her little lapdog to dump me in a ditch with all my salvageable bits stripped free." She laughed then, just as awkward and uncertain as her smile - though for Esthrielle and her lovers, it was their turn to be shocked.


    Zofia, however, burst into an expression of bewildered delight. She pushed herself to a kneel in an instant, gaze once again going between Esthrielle and Lucretia, though not with nearly so much worry as before. "Oh! Lulu, you''re - you''re gonna leave too? Oh, yes, yes! C''mon, girls! W-We''re gonna start a new life here, free from the church, and the mother abbess, and... and no more violence! No more field ops! No more fucking researching! Hahaha, yes!" Her smile was infectious in its confidence; Lucretia found her own grin bolstered, and even Esper James couldn''t help but be caught up in the wave.


    Purity held her tongue. She was doing her best to be invisible, it would seem; it was Est''s turn to take the stage, she figured, and outside of offering the creature comfort of loving touch, Purity had no place intervening. She had no idea what Est and the other two Waywards had been through in their time at the convent - she could only guess at what it had been like, and none of her guesses were optimistic.


    Being press-ganged into theopolitical extremism at the prime of their life, condemned to murder innocents at gunpoint, always kept at arm''s length by the woman who gave them their orders? It made Purity think of EJ, involuntarily; hell, she figured that the mother abbess and Judas would probably get along. Better they never met, in that case.


    But... Lulu wanted to stick with them? And Zofia did too? Were they just gonna end up as five weird women living out in the UNAC countryside, like some sort of unorthodox, modern day witch coven? Purity nearly laughed at the image that evoked: the five of them in witch costumes, dancing in the moonlight and evading taxes as best they could. Would that even work?


    No. Of course not. Of course it wouldn''t work; she couldn''t tell them yet, not quite yet, but... with the bounty on EJ''s head, they''d never make it out of Vitus. There were toll booths on every road, and they''d get checked for contraband without a doubt. The checkpoint guards would find EJ, they''d arrest every woman in the van, and Tsang would take possession of them. That would be the end of the story; no one would be able to save them, not fast enough to stop whatever that horrid vampire bitch had planned.


    Purity sighed. Now wasn''t the time to worry about that - she''d have the rest of her life to worry about what Judas would do if she caught them. For now? These bitches needed wrangling; Purity, as it just so happened, was a professional bitch-wrangler. She just needed to find an opportunity to do it.


    The opportunity would arrive fairly soon. Est broke her stunned trance to chance a response, eyes as doe-in-headlights as Esper James''s had been minutes ago. "Wh-What...?! We''re... We''re all sticking together? I, ah, I thought... P-Purity, I... Will your contact, er-" Est began to turn her head back to look at Purity, desperately searching for affirmation; the carnation-colored conductress smirked, seeing an opportunity to ease her entourage''s minds.


    She leaned down to smooch Esthrielle on the cheek, then nodded quickly once she rose back up. "Yes, she will. My contact can house us all, I''m sure of it; and furthermore, she''ll do so happily. She''ll do anything I tell her, really... but that''s beside the point." A confident look came across the pinkette''s face, plump lips curled upwards and brows set low to solidify her surety.


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    Lulu blinked at the most organic of the five of them once, twice, thrice, before squeezing her eyelids tight and beaming in earnest. "Alright! Hell yes! We''ll stick together! That''s the safest option, I''d say. And, heh, Zofi and I can help plenty; we''re not fugitives like you three, you know? The only people who know our faces are a drop in the bucket compared to Vitus''s population. Here, Puri - get in the shotgun seat. Help direct me!"


    And so it was. Purity gave Est another kiss, and one for Esper James, and even one on Zofia''s cheek; once each woman had been given just enough of Purity''s love, the seductress slipped out the back doors and into the passenger side. The van lurched into motion once more, backing out of the alleyway it had been stowed in and onto the street. Thankfully, traffic was minimal (for Vitus, at least) at this time of day. So much sunlight sat ill with the second-living, even through cloud cover.


    Lulu threw in a CD from the glove compartment as they drove - the sound of it nearly sent Esper James into catatonia via reverie, a familiar sort of sound to what she knew from the Jezze''s playlist washing over her. With those grinding, growling, sex-and-drugs club beats and industrial came memories both sweet and sour, and EJ couldn''t help but crawl closer to Est as her mind traveled to distant vistas.


    First, of course, was the night she met Purity. Bled out and drunk as a sailor on shore leave, she had stumbled out to the dance floor, enticed by flashes of bright pink locks and dark black latex. A collar that bore her name... The scent of sweet fruits, wine, and pink candy... The bump and sway, the feel of Purity''s cool palm on blood-warmed, ghoulish flesh. Fuck. That night had been a blast; in many ways, Esper James wished she could be back there one last time.


    But, the next memory in this little parade of reminiscence brought her low where once she had been high. Judas. Once again, everything came back to that cruel, self-centered woman. Feeding her and Est drinks... Getting the both of them way too drunk, way too fucked up... The flashing lights, the feeling of steel fangs breaking her flesh... the warm, humid nightclub air hitting her exposed loins... And then, the night after.


    Est''s face, before and after. Judas leaving the both of them in the dark of her bedroom, bodies coated in sweat. The bliss of sleep... and the unease of the cat-not-cat. The taste of blood and meat, so sinful and succulent yet nauseating in retrospect.


    Esper James bit down on her tongue, hard enough to pierce the flesh straight through, in a desperate attempt to stop the nightmarish recollection. As black blood began to fill her mouth and pain flickered through her synapses, she shut her eyes to keep from looking at the woman beside her. Esthrielle couldn''t help but notice the blonde''s pain; she squeezed EJ tightly, resting head-on-head.


    Words were unnecessary. They wouldn''t help; and besides, they had spoken so much in the alleyway. There was so much to think about, so much to consider... Est was battling with her own thoughts, Esper James could only assume. Even if they weren''t the same, even if she wasn''t reliving triumph and trauma in twin mental pathways, she was surely thinking about something. Something good, hopefully... but given the way things were going? She was probably preparing for the worst.


    The van toddled onwards with little wordplay exchanged between its occupants. Purity pointed and gave directions, sure, but Lulu had little desire to give much more input than the odd sound of confirmation and acknowledgement. Zofia had taken to laying on her side of the van, hands behind her head as she stared skyward - those LED eyes boring a hole through the ceiling, focused on anything but the material world.


    Songs flipped by, the CD eventually ending; a new one was slipped in, more metal and less EDM. It took Esper James a few seconds to realize it was HATEFUCK - though in truth, she gleaned it from the way Est began to bounce to the beat. Opening her eyes, EJ looked up at the Wayward in whose embrace she was buried - Est was doing her best to bob and sway to the rhythm without jostling her little lap-ghoul too much. Esper James went to smile up at her, but that idea was swiftly smashed to pieces as she felt warm black blood dribble out the corner of her mouth.


    Est''s eyes, thankfully, were still closed.


    Then, finally, the van began to pull to a stop. Looking out the windows at the back doors, EJ found that they had pulled into yet another alleyway - and came to a stop. The music was switched off, the engine powered down, and the driver turned back in her seat. Ghoulish greens gave Lulu their full attention, being now the only woman in the back who even had her eyes open in the first place.


    "Hey, ladies! We''re here! It''s, haha... It''s somewhere Purity says she knows, yeah? But we''re going in the back way. Meeting with the owner. Purity knows what''s going on, just... We''re gonna follow her. Be good little citizens. She''s, uh..." Lulu cackled nervously, looking over to Purity for a split second before whipping her head back to address the girlies in the back. "She''s got a cover for us."


    Purity turned back, then, offering naught but a sinister little sliver of a smile at the other women. Zofia and Esthrielle had opened their eyes to catch it now, and while Zofia wasn''t too off-put by the expression... Est''s response wavered, a wobbling smile that belied her apprehension. Purity gave her a wink.


    "Don''t worry, ladies. I''ve got a great cover for us. I promise, we''ll get through all the doors, get up to the main office... just let me do the talking. Ok, cuties?" Cuties? Cuties. EJ felt a tremble in her heart at that word - Purity was up to something for sure, without a doubt. Where the fuck were they? What sort of drug-den or back alley brothel were they about to enter?


    EJ thought then of Alex, and Kristoff - of that coerced luncheon, and Purity''s treatment of EJ afterwards. Was this another meat trader''s haunt? Somewhere that they''d have human meat fed to them, like a cannibal coterie out for brunch? Fuck that. But... But what choice did they have, even if it was? Could EJ really bring herself to shoot it down, considering their situation? Purity seemed so confident they''d be safe here, so sure of herself... so sure they''d find shelter from Tsang''s storm.


    Fuck it. Fine.


    EJ brooked no quarry as she pushed herself up to her feet and vacated the van, Est and Zofi following along just behind. It only took one glance out of the alleyway, and at the towering buildings around, to realize she''d never been in this part of Vitus before. Well, no, that wasn''t strictly true - she worked nearby, in a sense. And Purity''s apartment had been here. The nice part of Vitus''s downtown. The part where Tsang execs lived, where influencers and entrepreneurs made their nests. The part where money flowed like water.


    Not the dingy middle-class bits, where EJ had lived and hung around. Nowhere near Kehler Complex, at least. That was... a mixed sign, EJ thought. On the one hand? Somewhere that was an old haunt for Purity, where she apparently had the sway to get them all the way to the owner''s office, was a good sign. But, would anyone here recognize her? She''d rubbed shoulders (indirectly) with a great many Tsang executives back when she was a good little worker drone.


    All it would take is one of Judas''s underlings seeing her and she''d be cooked. They''d all be screwed. But Purity was so sure of it, she was so confident it would work well... so confident they''d be safe. Esper James kept coming back to that: the fact that Purity was sure this would work. And they had promised to trust one another, right? They were girlfriends! They were in love! Surely Purity wouldn''t... wouldn''t lead them astray, would she?


    The procession set into motion, Purity leading the way to a heavy metal door labeled ''STAFF ONLY'' in white stencil letters. She knocked thrice, bumped it with her hip, and then tapped a ''badum-tish'' sort of rhythm with both hands. Seconds ticked by, moment by painful moment, as no response came... and then? The door opened.


    A huge brute of a man with glazed-over eyes and milky brown eyes answered. His fair skin was given the pallor of unlife; his black hair was swept over the right side, the left shaved down to the skin. The bouncer''s chiseled jaw moved slowly but with impossible weight, like stone coaxed into some grim approximation of life.


    "Purity. Good to see you again. The madam is in her office. Please be seeing her, won''t you." It was a question, in theory - an entreatment, really - though from the stoic''s placid tone, it came across as an order. Purity curtsied with an imaginary skirt, inclining her head and smiling from ear to ear. She batted her lashes up at the statue-come-to-life and gave him a smile which dripped of blatantly feigned innocence, rising up to a full stand before offering her reply.


    "But of course, Slab! Of course~ I know I haven''t swung by in a moon and a half, and the madam must be quite eager to see me. Come, come... These ladies are my, aha, assistants. I''ll be returning to residency soon. You understand, don''t you?" The sugar in her voice was sweet enough to burn the throat as it went down, and Esper James couldn''t help but take a guilty pleasure in its sting.


    Oh, Purity was up to fucking something for sure. But, with this dude on their side? He knew Purity just at a glance - and any place in Vitus that employed a zombie as hulking at this brute, whose name was fucking Slab? Tsang would need to launch a full-scale assault on a fortress so deeply set into Vitus''s shade. Even in the nice part of Vitus, you could tell a lot about a place by the kind of bouncers they employed - and this guy? He meant business, EJ thought. She hoped he meant business, at least.


    Slab smiled, slowly but surely, as if chewing the cud of Puri''s response. With a flourish and a bow, Slab took a single immense step backwards, his eyes now shut and his right arm outstretched to beckon them in. "The house is glad for your return. Please, inside. Someone will handle your van."


    Lulu looked to Purity for permission - and when Purity nodded assent, the nun-cum-punkette set the keys to the van in Slab''s upturned palm. Purity said nothing more, stepping into the darkened hallway which lay beyond the heavy door - but she turned to look at the women of her party. A single wink was all she gave before whirling back around, going to walk deeper in. EJ took a deep breath to steel herself, and followed. So many questions were yet left to ask... but she''d get a chance to ask them all, in time. For now?


    They had a madam to be seeing.

 Act Five (Ch. 89) - Mon Amour; or, Queen of the Damned

    In they went, then - four women following a fifth into the darkened corridors of an unfamiliar establishment. Purity first, of course - then Lulu, then Zofia, then Est... and the blonde ghoulette in last, taking up the rear.


    Esper James''s brain was stewing like fresh chuck, the pot of her brain devoid of any vegetal adornment. What the fuck was this? What was this place? She... well, she''d love to say she trusted Purity. But after everything? Not telling them a lick of information about where they were going, or who would be offering them shelter? And what the conditions may be?


    Only a begrudging sort of trust could well up within the carnivore''s heart, and even that trust was tenuous.


    In some distant place, through walls she could only presume were made from concrete, EJ heard a thudding bassline hammered out. The same sort of club music, meant to rile the flesh and dull the inhibitions, that EJ had been inundated with since a few weeks ago. Since she had met Purity, really - and how fitting, the blonde thought with a wry half-grin, that the pink-haired pleasure doll had dragged her back to them. The music alone was a tell, sure... but something in the air only confirmed Esper James''s suspicions.


    The wetness of sweat and perfume was rich in these darkened halls, drifting in from somewhere unseen yet seemingly all around. The entire building, it felt as they walked, was mired in some sort of aphrodisiac haze - not the measured pheromones of a vampire, no, but a musk in the air that drowned one''s senses in implied lust.


    Something else tingled at EJ''s nostrils, ghoulish senses made to sniff out blood instead drawing in an undercurrent which most first-living would completely miss. She looked to Est, and Zofia, and Lucretia to see if they had picked up on it... but the three Wayward women were focused on keeping their eyes straight ahead and their stances taut. They wanted to seem attentive; they wanted to be good little ducks for Purity to arrange in a row.


    Sex. The heat, and the slick, and the communion of flesh and breath and racing blood beneath supple flesh. It played the wingman to whatever aromatic anesthesia this place used to lull one''s mind into a sense of security and desire. Just another thing that had been burned into Esper James''s brainpan like a brand as of late, and with that, another thing that Purity had been the instigator for.


    There was a part of EJ that yearned to give her lover the benefit of the doubt - to simply say that old habits surely must die hard, and in times of trouble, humans are creatures of habit. They turn to the familiar for comfort; of course Purity would drag them to such an establishment to find refuge, even if it was a life that the pinkette had so strongly avowed that she hated. That she would rather meet true death like the coming dawn, rather than return to. And yet...


    ...and yet, Purity had been so deceptive recently. So shifty, so fucking shady, so very... eugh, what was the word? Whatever. Esper James couldn''t think of another synonym, but it didn''t matter - she got the point across to herself, at least. Purity had been less than trustworthy in recent days, and now, walking through the back halls that reeked of hedonistic indulgence and primal lust, she was given to thought on it.


    The quintet (Slab had stayed behind, of course) reached a set of stairs and mounted them without delay, Purity still swaying her hips with every step, seeming oh so very pleased with herself. The way she bore herself, and the way she was moving, and the little flicker of a smile that played at her lips whenever she turned back to ensure she was being followed? Esper James thought they were reminiscent of a hunting hound back with fresh meat for its master: proud, smug even, and so very assured of its own abilities. Another successful hunt.


    And the quartet of women that Purity led deeper into this viper''s den were the raw and ragged meat in that loyal dog''s jaws. Rabbits taken in powerful fangs, rent to shreds only enough to kill - but not to destroy. There would be no buyers for a ravaged pelt, after all.


    The stairs were tall, and just as lightless as the rest of this place. The lack of luminescence was implication of an a completely second-living staff, Esper James noted - more men and women like Slab, or perhaps even vampires. There was a brief, bitter flicker of hope in the ghoulette''s heart that maybe they employed ghouls - but it was snuffed as a candle before bed would be, before any excitement might take root.


    There was no way a place like this would employ ghouls. Ghouls were physical labourers, or they were pencil pushers, or they were private security. When you''ve been manipulated on a genetic level to be stronger and faster and more perceptive than your kindred, but also hungrier for the meat of said kin? There weren''t many places that would take you. Plus, plenty of employers didn''t want their cashiers, or bartenders, or dancers, or this or that or the other thing, showing off their big ol'' fangs to customers. Vampires were fine - people thought their fangs were hot. Ghouls? Too many. Too unnatural.


    Finally they had reached the top of those mountainous stairs, and EJ was surprised to find that it was even darker up here - nearly pitch-black, save for a window at the end of the lone corridor they were now faced with. Purity stopped, then; she whirled about on a heel, turning and leaning down just so to address her cadre of shorter companions.


    "Hey, girlies. So. I... I know I''ve been pretty hush-hush about all this. I promise, though, we''ll have rooms... We''ll get fed... We''ll be protected. We''ll be safe. And you won''t need to do any work at all! Except, well..." In the dark, Purity''s LEDs glowed now like beacons of a kingdom desperate for aid - or spotlights used for hunting, to stun nocturnal animals. They had returned to the dragonfruit pink they often flickered to when she was desperate for touch.


    Her gaze drifted coyly over to Esthrielle and Esper James, a new sort of grin drawn across her face with all the delight and danger of a knifeplay enthusiast''s very first cut. "...eheheh...~ I could of course use my beautiful lovers'' help, should they be willing to offer... but enough of that! We''ll talk more about that later. Here, here, just - just let me do the talking, unless she addresses you. It''ll be easier for everyone that way, okay?"


    EJ balled her hands into white-knuckle fists at her sides. Her body was screaming at her to speak up, to cry out in rage at the injustice of being relegated to mere table dressing. And frankly, that was disregarding the unease in her gut at whatever the fuck Purity could have meant by ''helping'' her. There were no good answers that EJ could come up with for what kind of ''help'' Purity could possibly need. Would they be luring people in, like sidewalk hawkers? Demeaning, but not that bad in the long run. Getting people into these back rooms to be killed, or eaten, or extorted, or coerced? Horrid. But worse still?


    Esper James thought to the lingering taint in the perfume of the first floor, which seemed to be absent from this one. The sex - the mingling of strange bodies and stranger flesh, worship at the altar of momentary pleasure. A chill ran down her spine even as a knot formed in her stomach. Were they going to be expected to sell themselves for their keep? Were they going to be whored out in exchange for some dingy room in a cold, damp basement?


    She was given no further time to ponder the group''s fate. Purity took their silence (the three Easterners had nodded their assent) as a positive response and whirled back around, leading the group to the door at the end of the hall. It was just beside the window, set into the next wall over; the door itself was unadorned but was visibly some sort of heavy wood, lacquered and given a single bit of garnish: an engraved nameplate made of brass. The Madame, it read - and those words sent the chill in EJ''s spine coursing out to the rest of her like an avalanche''s spread.


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    Purity knocked in the same way as she had at the door outside, and then stood up straight as an arrow. She was obviously doing all she could to seem presentable, despite the ''Pussy Magnet'' shirt and the lack of proper winter attire. Hell, she didn''t even have any makeup on - and for someone like Purity, that was worse than being nude.


    Time stretched in taffy-like perpetuity as they waited for a response, any indication that there was even a person on the other side of the door. Esper James found herself hoping that whoever this ''madam'' (or was it madame? Maybe she was from the ERFS, originally?) was would be absent from her office. No such luck.


    "Come in, Purity. We''ve been expecting you."


    The voice was sultry and sleek, a sheet of satin or silk that one could dive into and swaddle themselves up in its richness. It was a warm cup of coffee on a cold winter''s day, full of cream and with just enough sugar that the sweet danced with the bitter. It held a tone which commanded respect and radiated power, a silken glove over an iron fist. Esper James couldn''t help but be a bit cowed in her rage as the woman''s dominance washed over her, all the previous rage she had been concealing in her heart placed in an ice box.


    Purity took a deep breath, chest rising and falling along with her shoulders. She reached out, the muscles on her arm taut and her hand locked by force of will. The plain handle was taken and turned, and the door pushed inward to give egress.


    Purity disappeared into the office, beckoning as discreetly as she could to follow along behind. The Waywards did as instructed - they were ever so good at following orders - and slipped in at her heels. Finally, it was Esper James''s turn. She took a moment, one single breath, to try and see what her senses could tell of her of the office before she made her appearance.


    There was another scent here - another sort of perfume, but much more akin to the convent than the Jezze; closer to Judas than to Luca. Some sandalwood and jasmine and oud, something deep and musky and heavy that evoked imagery of ancient libraries and the tombs of emperors. It was just as powerful as the woman''s voice - it was the sort of aroma cultivated by a sultan or a king, not the primal fragrance of a harem. That was almost more worrying, EJ thought. Whoever this woman was had removed herself so far from the Gehenna below that even the sounds of music, and the scent of sex, were eschewed.


    That was another thing, actually. It was... quiet. Dead quiet, save for the gentle breathing of those within. No music at all... no city streets where vehicles trundled or roared, no click of clocks or hum of electricity or gentle whir of machinery. There was... nothing at all, save the softest sounds of life one could make.


    Fuck. She was psyching herself out with all this inspection. The ghoul steeled herself and pushed the door inward, making sure to close it as quickly - and as gently - as she could.


    The office was a shock to see, for a myriad of reasons. Bookshelves sat in each corner, paired to lay along either wall. These bookshelves were laden with heavy tomes both modern and outdated, their worn bindings each showing they had been victims of a voracious repeat-reader. They, too, were wooden - a darker kind than the wood, but the same make as the desk.


    Oh, the desk. A broad and formidable object, it was very neatly but very heavily burdened by papers, more books, a single hourglass, and a... a gun? Oh, wow. That was most certainly a handgun sitting beside the portfolios off to the right side of it... a custom work, and very expensive by the floral engravings that enveloped its exterior. That alone nearly made Esper James whip around and sprint out of the room... but she had learned better self control than that at Tsang. Besides, she would have felt awful to leave her lovers and friends alone with whatever woman called this office her place of rest.


    Further decor all leaned towards a similar baroque style, as if in explicit defiance of the debauchery on the ground floor. Paintings of melancholy landscapes... A single sculpture of a skull being devoured by a snake... Belladonna in a pot, and by its look, it was real... Esper James couldn''t help but shiver at all of this. She cleared her throat as subtly as she could manage, daring only then to even look at the woman behind said desk.


    Given ample backlight by the enormous arched window behind her, the woman who sat in the lavish leather chair was every bit as intimidating as the aura she cultivated would have led one to believe. Waves of darkly tanned skin in rich chestnut hue acted as the veneer for her notable musculature, the latter barely concealed beneath a slinky dress of ebon silk; her hair was as if waves of the deepest India ink had been given life, and now spilled from her crown. Intense features were drawn into a smug, self-assured smile; her dense but sculpted brows were bent down over golden-amber eyes to scrutinize these newcomers even as she smiled at them.


    Oh. Oh. Her smile.


    Esper James nearly fell to the floor as she noticed. The red flecks in her irises were a hint - but such ocular cosmetics were a popular augmentation, even for the first-living. Her teeth, though, were a dead giveaway - the way each resembled an ivory stake, made to rip and rend and tear and torture whatever flesh it dug into. She could have shorn flesh from bone with those terrible implements without a second thought - and now, they were proudly displayed for all in attendance to gaze upon.


    EJ fidgeted awkwardly where she stood - she hadn''t gotten close enough to the rest of the group to really feel in the correct position by time she had been hit by the shock of it all, but now that she was being leered at? Her feet wouldn''t, couldn''t, move. Only when the woman raised her right hand and beckoned with a curled finger did Esper James feel freed from whatever impulse had locked her in place.


    "Come here, little girl... come on, now... I don''t bite. Hahaha... Unless, of course..." The woman trailed off as if to leave the rest up to one''s imagination, and imagine is exactly what Esper James did. Her first thought, of course, was when Esthrielle had bitten her at the Jezze - the rush of lust, the lightning rippling through every neuron and every nerve ending in her body. The raw sensation of it all. However, that memory was quickly wiped away to make room for the other suggestions.


    Cannibalism was the second fate implied, and the one that scared EJ the most. This woman was second-living! She had to know that Esper James wouldn''t satiate her appetites, right? And yet... Perhaps, for such a person, that was part of the thrill. Perhaps it was the unnecessary nature of the cannibalism that was the goal: owning another person so wholly, so indisputably, that you could eat of them and drink of them as freely as you chose, simply to do it. Simply because you could.


    The other ideas that came were metaphorical biting: to punish, to attack, to assault, to berate, to degrade... To inflict harm, in any sense. Those would have been preferable to cannibalism, at least. By time Esper James finished this line of mental inquiry, she realized she had walked all the way to the edge of the desk - in front of all of her entourage. In front of Purity, the woman who was supposed to be her shield in this place, who had sworn up and down that they''d be fine if they just did as told.


    Well, Purity? Esper James was doing as she was told - she was nothing if not obedient, after the decades of corporate bondage. Ha ha ha. There was no mirth in Esper James''s mind or heart, even as her inner voice laughed so bitterly at Purity''s inefficacy to stop whatever was about to happen. What the fuck was going to happen?!


    The woman looked Esper James up and down - even using the same finger which had beckoned to direct EJ to twirl. The blonde was nothing of not obedient, as stated, and in this moment she couldn''t even be humiliated by her own rush to comply. The woman''s grin dissipated as she watched Esper James dance to her tune, jerking as her little marionette strings were pulled. After she had completed her spin, she stood with a docile, submissive hunch to her stance, waiting patiently to be addressed again. She didn''t need to wait very long.


    "Hmm-hmm-hmm, ahahaha, alright... Well. You aren''t nearly as scary as they make you seem on the news, Esper James Price-Wynnfield." The woman''s grin returned in full force, then - bolstered by the chorus of gasps and the sight of five pairs of eyes widening to saucer-like enormity.


    Esper James looked to Purity. Purity looked to EJ, then to the woman, then to EJ. They both looked at Est, and Zofia, and Lucretia. Frankly, it seemed like this shock and awe may proceed for a great long while - but then, the woman snapped her fingers, and the quintet shut their yaps and turned to face her.


    This devious domina shut her eyes for a moment, drawing in a deep breath of her own, before releasing it in a drawn-out huff laced with contentment. She continued to address Esper James directly, leaning forward ever so slightly in her chair so that she may steeple her fingers with the desk''s assistance.


    "You know... You don''t really look like you''re a five million dollar bounty, little lamb. And I don''t want to work with Tsang, anyways... but I''ll find some way to wring that money out of you~" She winked. It was the last thing Esper James saw before she felt herself drop to the floor in a dead faint.

 Act Five (Ch. 90) - Vipers Nest; or, A Love Like Lies

    Esper James awoke in the arms of a lover - or so she assumed, given the tenderness with which she was held.


    A brief inspection of her environs revealed that she was, thankfully, correct. Purity held her in her arms, still standing but allowing the weary little ghoulette to lean her full weight onto the taller of the pair. The room was silent, still, and in that most oppressive of ways... but there was something new in the air, something altogether different - and, to second-living senses, exciting. Blood. Meat. Food.


    There, on the madame''s desk, sat a plate of beef tartare. Sprinkled with green onions, paired with the traditional egg yolk, and surrounded by purposefully-shaped strips of crispy bacon, it was the carnivorous smelling salts that the flesh-hungry girl needed to draw her out of the faint all the more quickly. She fumbled her legs against the densely-carpeted floor to push herself to a proper stand, face turning upwards to flash a thankful grin to her girlfriend; then, she snapped her eyes back to the food.


    Est was close by, and took EJ''s hand as soon as it was apparent she was awake. The other Waywards kept enough distance to be respectful, but the concern on their faces was all too clear to the blonde, even from her peripheral vision. EJ, eyes glued to the tartare, dragged her tunnel vision laboriously upwards to the madame herself.


    The woman in black''s smile had faded to closed-lip position, but upon meeting emeralds with her own ambers, her fangs presented themselves all over again. She winked her right eye, leaning forwards in her seat - making the leather creak softly from the shifting of her musculature - and gingerly placed her fingers on the plate''s edge. She pushed it towards the ghoulette an inch or so, eyes narrowing for a mere moment in a silent indication of amusement, before settling back into her throne once more.


    "Go on, then. Eat. You ladies are my guests, right? What sort of hostess would I be to deny the kindness of meat to my own kin? The black blood we share may not be likened by breeding, but those cold-wombs are our single mother, Esper James. Plus, I owe Purity a lot. A lot. So, eat up. Get your strength back while your lover and I discuss."


    EJ tried not to rush for the plate too quickly, every muscle fiber burning like an engine running too hot as she forced herself to proceed slowly. Thankfully, there was silverware - a knife and fork sat just beside the plate, and they were taken in hands that shook gently even as they strained to force stillness.


    There was no chair, however, and the desk was altogether too low to easily eat at. There was no verbal solution given; no one in the room made any sound as they watched to see what Esper James would do, how she would solve this conundrum. The answer, however, was obvious: this madame liked to feel in control, right? Esper James knew how she was expected to behave around such women. She said nothing, didn''t even look up, as her legs bent at the knee.


    And then she was kneeling in front of her new patron''s desk, the plate now at a perfect height for her to dig into its contents without the chance of accidentally spilling or dropping any onto the papers, or the floor, or herself. As soon as the first bite of that deliciously tender flesh hit her tongue, still moist with sauce and blood and mixed-in egg yolk, sound filled the room again.


    The madame''s velveteen syllables punched the air like a prize fighter''s jabs, every impact hitting home with just enough force as to be heavy, but with enough crisp emphasis as to be clear and quick. She never stalled, never lingered, never made one weight for the hammer to drop... but never gave pause, either.


    "My name, for you newcomers, is Khetnep. Khetnep Nephren-ka. You all, however, will call me madame while on the premises - and I will give you brownie points if that extends to any digital messaging. I have worked quite hard to establish my little dynasty here in Vitus; I would appreciate the respect I deserve." Khetnep crosses her legs, thigh over thigh, looking quite smug with herself; she never seemed to stop smiling, a Cheshire cat now presented with a bevy of mice.


    She shifted her own gaze over to Purity, continuing after the briefest of pauses. "Purity worked for me in the past, and did fine work when she did. I wouldn''t ask, nor expect, her to ever return to that sort of vocation. Especially not now, seeing as she''s come to me with her own little harem of women. However." There was pause then, after that ''however'', but it was definitive in a way that defied the idea that she had trailed off. She was putting emphasis on what came next.


    "I will be clear with you all. This place, this oasis of mine in the heart of Vitus''s most decadent neighborhood? I run a strip club first, brothel second. Other, darker things third and fourth and fifth... but none of that will involve you, much as the idea of selling literal nuns appeals to me." She drew her gaze away from Purity, now meeting and moving from each of the Waywards'' own stares. Est, then Zofia, then Lucretia... and then back to Zofi, then finishing once again on Esthrielle.


    The Easterners were doing their best not to seem shocked, or intimidated, or caught unawares - however, Zofia seemed the most out of her element. EJ shoveled more raw beef into her ravenous maw as she imagined what was going through the ex-nun''s mind: fear, perhaps? No, Zofi didn''t seem scared, per se. Concern? Surprise, maybe? Even a little excitement, and curiosity?


    Given Zofi''s nature, both as a researcher and an artist, Esper James wouldn''t doubt the latter three emotions. A life of hedonic indulgence, the storied underground of organized crime and immoral excess, would surely delight the mind of anyone given to the arts - even if they had no intention or desire to participate themselves. EJ herself was, frankly, a bit excited at the idea of it all... and she wished she could punch her own chin for even daring to feel so positively about all of this.


    It was like something out of a movie. EJ thought of her date with Judas - of their discussion of the Don Dracula films, and all the camp and comedy that those over-the-top flicks always brought with. This was every bit of that fictional life that the average citizen could only dream of, but in the flesh. They were speaking to an actual second-living, breathing, literal crime boss. A woman who had built an underground empire in the heart of the UNAC''s largest and most populous city.


    God. EJ couldn''t help but choke on the bile that rose in her throat at the realization that she thought Khetnep was cool.


    The criminal overlady continued then, crossing her arms in a moment of smug self-assurance. "So - the lot of you? You''ll be given a room to yourselves. I''ve got some spares, no bodies to fill them... and they''re pretty far from the bulk of my business, so you won''t need to listen in to anything untoward. Oh, and Purity?" Her eyeline returned to Purity, locking glowing amber with luminous pink. Purity swallowed hard, standing up just a little bit straighter; her attentiveness made Khetnep snicker, and their staring contest was quickly lost as she rolled her eyes.


    "Purity, you always told me you wanted to do more, some day. Some day when you weren''t... under other obligations. Wanted to help with the girls, right? Keep them safe? Resolve, how shall we say, disputes?" Khetnep winked again, still seeming like she held all the pieces; EJ wouldn''t have argued against that idea, either.


    Purity''s eyes widened, and plump lips the color of rosebuds split to reveal a smile of her own. She gave a quick and slight bow, just a momentary incline, her face smeared with the paint of elation. "Y-Yes! Yes, madame, thank you! I... I, ahem, ah. I have a lot I wanna say, and do, for the girls here. Keep them safe. Keep them fed. Thank you!"


    Esper James wondered, then, what the implication was. Would Purity be a pimp? The madame had said that this was a brothel, after all, and God only knew Purity had plenty of experience in that sort of field. Knowing her, and the thoughts she had expressed to Esper James and Est, the layers and layers of emotion she held surrounding her life before becoming a fugitive... EJ couldn''t help but feel a somber sort of thankfulness that, after all this time, Purity had a chance to help girls who were in a similar enough situation as she had been in. A chance to work through her own problems - one presented through the assistance of others. Maybe it was the meat in her maw that was doing her thinking for her, but Esper James figured it seemed pretty good, all in all.


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    Est was silent. She, too, had a whisper of a grin on her face - the merest upturn of the edges of her lips, her own mirth almost entirely given through implication. She turned her head towards Purity, giving her a subtle nod of approval - which only caused Purity''s own delight to be reinforced. No protest from her lovers... a job offer that didn''t require her to fuck anyone for money, or do anything illegal (in theory)... it was amazing, she felt. Esper James could tell her heart was soaring in her chest from the scent of her blood beneath her skin.


    Khetnep nodded to Purity, allowing the silence to linger that much longer. Eventually she broke it herself, her imperious visage shattered by a chuckle that was decidedly not that of a headstrong, powerful crime boss. "Haha, fuck, ha...! No, no, don''t call me madame in here. Change of plans, I don''t like that - we''re friends, Purity, it feels weird hearing you call me that when it''s just us ladies. Here, ah... Look, as much as I love being the boss bitch in charge of things twenty-four seven? This room is too stuffy now, haha...!"


    And just like that, the immense killing pressure this woman emanated was cast out like an exorcism. Zofia released a sigh of relief, shoulders dropping to a more casual stance; Lucretia, too, let her eyes shut to be rubbed at. A switch had been flipped - the tension in the room went from taut as a snare drum to loose as a spare coil of rope.


    Khetnep gestured to the Waywards, still snickering, her poise and grace tossed aside in favor of casual relaxation. "Hey, you three ladies! I told you all my name, and I know Esper James from the news. What about you? Who has the East decided to grace me with?" They looked amongst themselves with their eyes flashing, short-range comms apparently of no consequence. EJ, however, was hit with a stray icepick straight to her heart.


    Oh, fuck, that was right. Khetnep had said something about her being on the fucking news. And a five million dollar bounty, was it? What the fuck was that all about? The tartare had been finished and its plate licked clean; silverware was placed down as gingerly as shaky fingers could, before EJ rushed to a stand and swung about to face Purity.


    Purity was still beaming like the sun, and that lingered for a moment or two as she looked down towards EJ - but, seeing how serious Esper James had become, joy faded into cold seriousness. "Ah, EJ, what''s up? You, ah... You look like-" The pinkette wasn''t allowed to finish the rest of her sentence, not that whatever she would''ve said mattered, in the end. EJ''s next utterance was unavoidable, and its weight was undeniable.


    "Purity. Khetnep said I''ve got a fucking bounty on my head - and that my face is on the news. You... I mean, can you check your phone? I-I know you said we weren''t having great reception in the convent, but, like...-" It was EJ''s turn to be cut off as Purity gathered her into a tight embrace, smothering the blonde''s face with all the softness that the taller woman could provide.


    "EJ, sweetie... fuck. I... I... This is really hard for me to say, and if you hate me for it, just know, I deserve the hate. I understand if you''re mad at me. I... knew, this whole time. My phone wasn''t acting up in the convent. I couldn''t tell you, or Est - because if I did, why would you ever have agreed to go? B-But... But with that kind of bounty?" Purity''s voice snagged, the beginnings of tearshed catching her vocal cords like fishing hooks. She didn''t begin to cry, not yet, but sobs were held just below the surface.


    "With that kind of bounty...! You were a bargaining chip just waiting to be used! All three of us were! W-We, we were just sitting there, at the f-fucking beck and call of a woman only Est even really knew - a woman who got you fucking shot! She would''ve used you in a heartbeat, packed you up like bait and hung you out to dry to get a one-up on Tsang! I...!" No more words came, and from her shivering, Esper James could tell that Purity was fighting as hard as she could not to break down.


    For Esper James, there was a cold rage that flickered to life in her heart - but, it was far from the only flame that bloomed within the pyre of her chest. Regret held hands with the rage that burned inside, and quickly surpassed its sister as it grew - regret for a great many things, small little bits and pieces that assembled into a great blaze all their own.


    She regretted doubting Purity, first and foremost. Yes, Purity had lied. Yes, Purity had fucking lied, and lied about something so important and enormous that it was hard even now for EJ to process it... but Purity had been right to do so. She had been right to lie. Lying had saved Zofia''s life, and very likely their own lives as well, and had freed them from the shadow of fear that would have loomed over their heads. If she had been up front about EJ''s bounty, Est would never have been okay with leaving the convent. If Purity hadn''t lied, they never would have figured out that Zofia was going to get killed. They never would have seen the mother abbess for what she was.


    They would have gone on living as docile sheep, waiting for the slaughter whenever the abbess tired of their presence - or saw them as useful tools.


    And so, she regretted doubting Purity. She regretted her lack of faith in the pinkette; she regretted second-guessing Purity''s intentions, her actions, her plans. She regretted being such a little bitch about all this. Purity had lied, but... Esper James couldn''t shake the idea that Purity had lied for their benefit; that Purity had lied because it was in all of their best interests to do so.


    She buried her face as far as she could into Purity''s warm, soft chest, snuggling in in some attempt to press herself as wholly to Purity as she could. They both needed the hug, really - the pressure of it, the feeling of skin-on-skin, the knowing and meaningful acknowledgement of one another''s love.


    There was no interruption for them. In the background of her mind, Esper James could hear Esthrielle introducing herself to Khetnep - then Zofia, then Lucretia. They discussed where they were from... Their lives before being nuns... Their reason for leaving the convent, and their hopes now that they were out. Lulu made a joke about working for Khetnep, even - and though Esper James could hear her giggle, she could also tell that she was more serious than her laughter would let on.


    The jokes that followed, and the banter, and the laughter and commiseration, were all lost on the ghoul and her first-living lover. To them, the rest of the world may as well be dead - it may as well have not even existed, a shared hallucination in a two-party sort of solipsism. They drank in one another''s embrace; they breathed in syncopation, one after another; they never even thought of letting go.


    Eventually, the room was quiet again. Khetnep said something... and then further silence. She repeated herself once, and silence reigned yet again. The second repetition was when Purity tapped Esper James frantically, reluctant to release her but doing so out of some sort of necessity. EJ drew her face out of Purity''s enveloping bosom to turn about, going to face Khetnep and actually pay attention to whatever the hell the crime boss was intent on saying to her. She could only assume that she was Khetnep''s intended recipient, at least.


    "Ahaha, ah... Okay, now that you aren''t face-deep in Purity''s breasts... ah, would you like to go to your room? Purity knows where it is - she will if I tell her the room number, anyways. It''s a suite, too - plenty of room for you and your entourage." The mountainous woman raised a single well-maintained brow, the dark arch curved to display an innocent bit of curiosity. It was refreshing, Esper James thought in the back of her brain, to see the madame exist without the implication of dominance.


    Blonde hair tousled itself as the head which held it bobbed. "Yes, ma''am. Thank you. We''d... We''d like some time to talk amongst ourselves, about a lot of things. Thank you, again, for giving us a place to stay." EJ''s tone was a cold knife''s edge against the warm, fresh volcano cake of Khetnep''s casual questioning; the Waywards and the madame all shifted their expressions as it cut them.


    Khetnep nodded, though not with nearly so much gusto or emphasis. "Alright. Purity? Room fifty. Take the staff elevator - don''t want you girls being seen by any patrons. I''d get complaints for a month about never getting to see any of you on the floor... I''ll, ah, I''ll have food sent up. Now, if that''s all, I''ve got paperwork to do."


    As it would happen, that was all. The party of women exited their new patron''s office, Purity once again taking the lead. No one said anything as they retread their steps down the hall, then descending that blackened stairwell... and once on the first floor, Purity directed them to an elevator. The inside was dingy, graffitied in excess with all sorts of random thoughts and lewd tangents, but EJ paid little attention to them. She simply took Purity''s left hand, and Esthrielle''s right, and squeezed them as tightly as she could without hurting them. They squeezed back.


    Silence. Ding! Fifth floor. Time to go see their new accommodations.

 Act Five (Ch. 91) - Where Evil Grows; or, Bouquet of Blackened Blossoms

    Next stop - room fifty.


    The hallways of the ''business'' side of things in this den of degenerate delight were tiled with great black slabs, all real stone (or close enough to stone to be the real thing); the wallpapers were light cotton candy pink trimmed with a darker, fruit-punch sort of pink, with nearly white brocade designs painting floral imagery everywhere one looked. It wasn''t quite the ''sex and drugs'' pit of sin that Esper James had been expecting... but, again, maybe only the fifth floor was like this. Maybe the other floors were more like what she was expecting.


    No overhead lights guided their paths; instead, small faux-gilt sconces in the shape of gas lamps curved up from the wall, one taking its place on the wall every five rooms. The ceiling, however, was where Esper James couldn''t help but catch her eyes the whole walk: the entirety of it was a digital screen, custom made and extravagant. It displayed the starry night sky in its center, and at the edges near the outer wall of the building proper, it showed mountains... or clouds, or the moon. It was dazzlingly high quality, so much so that a client with one drink too many could be reckoned to believe they were actually out of Vitus. That would have been the true bliss of coming up here.


    The piped-in sounds of the sea completed the elaborate, bewildering display. Obviously fake because there was no fucking ocean in Vitus, the warmth of the building, the digitized night sky above, and the sounds of coastal life and warmth (mingled, as they were, with sparse exclamations from what few rooms here seemed in-use) all still evoked a world Esper James had never had the chance to truly know.


    She couldn''t help but wonder what the point of it was, though. Sure, EJ thought - it would have been reasonable to just say that Khetnep wanted to provide an ''exotic'' experience. Pretend you aren''t in Vitus, fuck a beautiful man or woman until your hips couldn''t move anymore, and then get mind-shatteringly drunk... maybe even outside of that order... It was something that the ghoulette could easily see plenty of the Tsang executives she had the displeasure of knowing by name wasting their funds on.


    Suddenly, EJ slammed right into something warm and soft, something that smelled of skin and oil but also detergent, perfume, and a saccharine undertone. Purity giggled softly as the little ghoul bashed face-first into her back and rear, throwing her right arm around to wrap EJ up and pull her in even further. The two were sandwiched; EJ couldn''t help but make a loud sound of mock-protest, even as she folded and allowed herself to be drawn in body-to-body.


    "We''re here, babe. What''cha thinkin'' about? Or are you just so excited to get to it that you couldn''t keep yourself off of me~?" Purity giggled again, a little louder this time - Est joined her, even, going to slip behind the blonde butcher and make a sandwich of the three of them. Her hands went to ghoulish hips, making sure that EJ couldn''t squirm out of her place between the two taller women - even if she could conceivably had wanted to, which, you know. "Yeah, EJ... twerp, heheh, you getting caught up in all this? Hu-uh, little lamb~?" Esthrielle snickered inches away from EJ''s ear, mouth opening only just enough to nibble on EJ''s lobe.


    Esper James was so taken aback by all this, so caught unawares and off-guard... She would come to hate this later, hate herself just a little bit for this, but feeling those sharpened steel tips pressing into her soft, unpierced cartilage? EJ felt her knees nearly drop out from under her, her head beginning to swim, her vision going hazy. She fell back into Est with her torso; her hips, however, pressed forth into Purity''s body as best they could, given the height difference.


    She warbled like a baby bird, mewled like a kitten, whined like a puppy... Whatever the X was to her Y, she wasn''t even of the right mind to think of stopping it. It was only after she heard a soft pneumatic hiss from a party that wasn''t herself, nor her lovers, that she was ripped out of subspace with all the force of dragging a sailor from the riptide.


    Even with Esthrielle continuing to nibble and pinch on EJ''s earlobe, the secretary''s wide eyes and quick-rushing blood were enough to help her power through and spark protest. "H-Hey...! Not... not in front of-!" EJ sucked in air sharp as a dagger when Est bit down in earnest, sending a thrill and shock of pain coursing through the gentle Nova Scotian. EJ regained her strength soon after, though - and redoubled her efforts, voice quavering in spite of her supposed conviction.


    "Not in f-f-front of Zofi and Lulu! Come on, they d-don''t...! They don''t wanna see this, I-I''m-!" She turned her head to face the other Waywards, looking for backup just as much as she was attempting to gauge their reaction to this display. What she found was not what she was hoping to see, if only for her own dignity... but in retrospect, it was better than the alternative.


    Lucretia, with her headpiece now removed and being used to playfully, mockingly wipe ''sweat'' from her forehead, was smiling with a sinister sort of delight. It seemed, to EJ, like a less sadistic sort of expression than the ones Judas made... the revelry in seeing another debased for your own amusement, but without the unconscionable cruelty that Judas would have mingled with it. Esper James couldn''t help but feel a flicker and twitch, a small spark of life, beneath her sweatpants - and that only brought further mounds of shame piled high on her heart.


    Zofia''s expression was harder to read at a glance - head angled downwards at a slight degree, in an attempt to hide her face but still keep watching... Her lips were screwed up in a completely indecipherable wobble, somewhere between a frown and a smile in a way so far removed from a lack of expression. Her eyes were snapped wide and doeish, a deer in headlights which weren''t even aimed at her, and yet, she stood stock-still and dumbly waited for whatever came next.


    No car crash came. Not this time, at least. Seeing that Esper James was looking at her, she turned her face away even as her cheeks began to turn nearly as pink-red as the trim on the wallpaper. Silence hung over the women for a few seconds as EJ looked for support, support was far from what she found, and the pair sandwiching EJ couldn''t help themselves but squeeze her even harder.


    Purity''s laughter broke the silence, light and twinkling but breathy enough to be lost in even still. "Alright, alright... You''re right. We shouldn''t be doing this in front of two former nuns, for God''s sakes. We''ll have to find a way to get Lulu and Zofi out of the room some time, maybe get them in street clothes down to get some drinks... but, once Est and I can get our fucking hands on you, baby girl..."


    The unspoken implications were clear. Lulu and Zofi said nothing, making no protest - in spite of their amenable responses to the show, EJ was glad that they all had the restraint to not push any boundaries. Was it something in the air? Something in that perfume that Purity seemed to naturally sweat out? Was it their backgrounds as party girls and free spirits before their conscription to-


    Wait, hold on. Hold the fuck on. That was right - Purity''s fucking sweat. Esper James had nearly forgotten that she had to confront the pinkette about whatever the hell was going on with her! That was the revelation she really needed to pierce through the haze of sudden lust and fawn-response that had been forced upon her, the chisel now hammered into that smooth mental marble to carve a definite direction of thought. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Fuck.


    Esthrielle slipped her hands free of EJ''s hips and backed away, standing to full height; Purity, too, took a step forward and aside to let Esper James be untouched and unobstructed once more. Emerald eyes looked down the hallway, past Purity - or whatever was left of the hallway, only a few more steps before they came to the last door on the floor. Just as lovingly chocolatey-brown as the rest of the wooden doors, with the same sort of baroque, artistic numbering etched into the upper half, eye-level for someone Purity''s height. Fifty.


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    Purity gestured to the door with her right hand, adding a comic bit of flourish as if she was a gameshow host displaying a prize. "Well? After you, little ghoul... Step into my parlor, said the spider to the fly...~" A wink that dripped lasciviousness was laid upon the carnivore, garnished with a mischievous giggle that bordered on an outright cackle. Esper James hadn''t even wondered why Purity had stopped walking, not at first - but knowing that this whole exchange had taken place mere steps away from the sanctity of privacy? EJ felt a little bit of wry amusement. She had been caught, it seemed.


    All the blonde could do was roll her eyes and huff, feigning annoyance and frustration in a vain attempt to save some face - though from the way even Lulu snickered to join Est and Purity, it was completely unsuccessful. The door was taken by its handle and swung out and into the hallway, revealing plush pink carpet in the rectangle of luminance which was allowed for from the open portal. The rest of the room was dark, that love nest which ostensibly lay in wait within now shrouded in lightlessness... for now.


    EJ could see just enough to know most of what lay within, but going from illumination to the void of shade always made one''s eyes need a few moments to adjust. She fumbled around the inner wall with an outstretched hand, searching for a lightswitch... and eventually found one, or something close enough to one: a dimmer switch. Snide, reluctant bemusement welled in the petite predator''s chest as she thought that, of course it would be a dimmer switch in a brothel. Why would there be normal lighting?


    The switch was turned, and as it turned, the room was revealed. Fairy lights hung all around the ceiling of the rectangular room, pastel pinks and lavenders and indigos showering the room with gentle radiance - displaying the furnishings with such tenderness that one would have expected this to be a honeymoon suite, not a prison cell for one''s untamed lust.


    A bed lay against the left wall, headboard against said wall and a silken canopy hanging from the ceiling to envelop it. It was circular, and massive - easily big enough for all five ladies to sleep in it at once, and with enough space between them that there would be no untoward touching. The sheets and comforter and pillowcases and curtains were, of course, the same sort of colours as the fairy lights - this would extend to all fabric in the room, it seemed, though the walls were a soft creme white.


    A sawhorse sat off to the side in a partially-opened closet, along with (ostensibly) other toys and apparatuses... There were hooks in the ceiling, likely for harnesses or swings or what-have-you... A dresser lay near the door and opposite the dimmer switch, and beside that, a steamer trunk was nestled up. Both pieces were made of the same dark wood as everything other wooden object here... and on their flat tops, various amenities were strewn: coils of thin silken rope, bottles of myriad different substances, a pair of black leather cuffs and a matching collar... Esper James didn''t let her gaze linger too long on any other toys, trying to avoid undue reactions.


    The rest of the room contained a fairly lavish table with a pair of matching chairs, their lacquered bodies bearing red leather-clad padding; there was a statue of ivory as the table''s centerpiece, displaying a nude woman pulling a sheet about herself, and a similar oil-painting was hung upon the wall. To be quite frank, Esper James was taken aback by it all.


    Two thoughts forced their way into the blonde''s brainpan almost immediately after setting sight upon the room they would be staying in. First and foremost? It was so significantly classier and more refined than she had been expecting. She had been so inundated with media depictions of brothels and soaplands and massage parlours and love hotels, all with their neon lights and pinks and blacks and modern, lust-provoking designs, that the gentle light and wooden furnishings nearly floored her. It was far more akin to a rather lavish hotel room, she thought... And, honestly, she was glad for it.


    The second thought, the one she was notably less glad for but could not deny, was that it reminded her of the manse. Immediately, it felt like a room Judas would design - it felt like her bedroom, with the sawhorse and the oil painting and the erotic sculpture. It was as if she was stepping into Khetnep or Purity''s version of that, the same style of sinful asylum, but without the same kind of cruelty Judas would have inflicted. And, even of that, Esper James couldn''t yet be fully sure.


    She swallowed hard, rolling her suddenly-dry tongue around in her mouth to wet it anew before attempting speech. Ginger touch came from hands about her hips, urging her forwards; Purity''s voice accompanied it, trying to help break the ex secretary from her stupor. "Hey, babe... It''s nice, right? Come on, though, let''s get in there. We don''t want anyone to see Lulu or Zofi or they''ll get weird about nun sex. Only we get nun sex, right~?"


    Another giggle, then... and with the way that EJ couldn''t fully shake herself free of that miasmatic taint that this building gave off, she was conflicted on who Purity was even referring to. There would be time to think of that later, though - the bubblegum bitch was right. They should hoard the nun sex to themselves - the people of Vitus didn''t deserve it.


    Wow, huh? That was... a weird thought to have, right?


    No reprieve was given from Purity''s urging hands, and so Esper James wasn''t given any time to consider the strangeness of her current mentality. She took a few wobbly steps into the room, stumbling over to the bed and allowing herself to flop face-first onto the circular mattress. The silks were, of course, soft on her exposed skin - and should Zofi and Lulu not been there, EJ was fairly certain that her hoodie would have been torn free to get as much skin-on-silk contact as she could.


    The rest of the women shuffled into the room, Lulu taking up the back - and shutting the door as she stepped through, isolating their quintet from the rest of the building. A sigh of relief came from Zofia, then, as she practically ripped her own headdress off and threw it into an unoccupied corner of the room.


    "Augh, f-fuuuck, finally! Finally! I... It''s been almost three years since I''ve been out of that stupid f-f-fucking convent! It...! It feels so, so, so good to... To be free. Even if Vitus is shit, even if we need to hide... living free but with our eyes peeled is gonna be so much better than that gilded fucking cage." She had started to tremble, face alight with joy and relief - and a bit shaky from all the adrenaline which now pumped through her, simply from the ecstasy of release. Lulu cackled, putting an arm around Zofia''s waist.


    "Mmm, feel good to swear, too? Hahaha! You sound like a sailor, Zofi... I mean, don''t let me stop you, it''s kinda cute." Lucretia''s face was three shades away from malicious as she looked over the former field researcher, waiting for Zofi to turn and look at her - and once the frazzled woman did as Lulu expected? Black-painted lips found bare ones for less than a second, smooshing together in a smooch that took a blink''s worth of time, but felt to Zofia like an eternity.


    When Lulu broke the kiss and pushed Zofia away, cackling to herself like she had just pulled an excellent prank, Zofia stumbled to the ground without a word - though not for lack of effort, given her sudden fusillade of stammering. Black lipstick was smeared just slightly off-set from her own lips, and her eyes were so very wide that it seemed their lids may recede into her skull. Colour had adorned her cheeks like she''d been slapped, and soon that reddish hue took a new home across her full visage.


    Esper James, having rolled over to face her roommates while Zofi was exclaiming her joy, was speechless. So, it seemed, was Purity... and so was Esthrielle. Lulu was left in a semi-silence of her own design, snickering away with all the pride and none of the shame of a world-renowned mischief-maker.


    It took nearly two whole minutes for her to wind to a close - in that time, Zofia had gotten just enough control of herself to stop babbling like an idiot, and EJ''s lovers had taken seats beside her on the bed. They each looked between Zofi and Lulu, back and forth, gauging whatever sort of attention or affection or emotion was supposed to exist between the two - one sided or not. Perhaps something more? Perhaps something less? Given Zofia''s reaction, this was the first time such a thing had been expressed...


    Lulu put on a combination pout-and-smirk, narrowing her eyes and furrowing her brows and screwing up her mouth into a wry, close-lipped smile. She offered Zofia a hand to help her up - the hand was quickly taken, and as Lulu pulled her up, she drew the ghoul enthusiast into a ballroom dancing spin. Zofi''s eyes snapped back to their earlier enormity as she allowed herself to be spun, and when Lulu dipped her down with one hand and flourished with the other, Zofia''s eyelids drooped suddenly as if she was fit to faint.


    Drawing her back to a stand, Lucretia pushed Zofi to the trio on the bed - they caught her and helped her find a seat, then looked back towards Lulu for some sort of explanation or address, or anything, really. Lulu, in turn, put balled fists on either side of her waist. She cocked her hips and her head to the side, shooting a playfully quizzical look at her allies-turned-audience.


    "What? We''re not nuns anymore. Can''t a girl have a little fun~?"

 Act Five (Ch. 92) - An Angst-Laden Interlude: Ich Tu Dir Weh [Pt. 1]

    Tonight, the lights in that manse upon the hill glowed with a warmth they had not for some weeks. The Alighieri estate was more alive than it often was - even discounting the night that its sole resident had been shot in the leg. The reason? Well, it was obvious, wasn''t it? Judas Alighieri, vile corporate empress, whose rule over Vitus was only superseded by Zichen Tsang himself... was throwing a party.


    A party with actual people, not just... well, her own ego.


    The occasion? She simply felt like throwing one - or so she told all the invitees. She was rich, Vitus was entering a new age of prosperity, the economy was in a massive upswing after the securing of some phenomenal trade deals with Mandragos, far in the North... Why not throw a fucking party? Why not let everyone who was anyone in Vitus see just how much wealth and sway Judas had?


    At least, these are the excuses she came up with. These are the reasons she scrounged up for herself as she stared into her own gemlike irises, watching their natural swirl as she tried to calm down and get a God damn grip.


    Why was she having such a freak-out right now? She''d already beaten one of the manservants bloody in the wine cellar... that hadn''t helped, and while he had only cried a lot, Judas still felt like something was missing. And so, she had tried to do something about it - made a pathetic, feeble attempt to dredge up some semblance of mental acuity. Something to punch through the fog that beset her tonight.


    That is, she had decided to cane one of the maids - nailed her to a wall by her wrists with a nailgun, lashed out as hard as she could without breaking anything (the furniture, not the woman), and yet... Seeing that poor girl''s legs go limp as she passed out from pain, blood running down her wrists and tears down her face, body slack like a sack of potatoes...


    ...it had done nothing for Judas. It hadn''t even excited her enough to be aroused by it. That was, perhaps, the fucking worst part, the vampire thought - that she could inflict these cruelties, but when it was so impersonal, it barely even registered as an occurrence. She''d even considered scrambling her security to snatch someone off the street, so she could blow their brains out in front of the guests - that had nearly piqued her interest.


    Nearly.


    But even then, that was still random pain on a random target. It would be an excellent power play - but everyone here, these Tsang executives, influencers, titans of industry (two steps from outright Tsang employees, really), and celebrities? They already knew Judas was the most powerful woman in Vitus. Hell, she was the most powerful woman in the whole world. The ERFS was ruled by men, the PADE (Pan-African Digitized Existence) was ruled by a collective, Mandragos was... a nightmare world, who knew what they fucking passed for a leader there. Hell, even the UNAC had a woman president, but Judas was reasonably sure she could take a wrench to-


    No. Breathe. Breathe, Judas. Focus.


    Everyone in this building knew Judas was a goddess-made-flesh, and that contesting her would be courting death. She had clawed her way to the top, fought everyone in her way with any method she could manage, she had... She had killed people to get where she was today. Not the petty, crappy excuse for death they had in Vitus nowadays, though. She had, personally, killed her rivals - true death, before second-life was even an option.


    Judas''s fingers cracked the porcelain of the sink she was leaned over as the memories began to stream in - they began overtaking her like a tidal wave overtakes a sand castle, crushing her conscious self down beneath the riptide. "No, no, no, no, no, no, no... No-ho-ho..." The vampiress wasn''t surprised to find tears welling in her eyes as her vision blurred and became unfocused - she was surprised by how warm they were, however. It was almost like she was alive again. Almost.


    The memories of her first murder poured in like pitch to fill a cauldron, ready to be poured onto an unfortunate invader. They stung like a fucking bitch, too. Judas bit down on her tongue hard enough to pierce it, and as she ground her teeth, it was rent free - black blood filling her mouth as she swallowed the shorn away chunk. Even the pain of that couldn''t save her from the reminisce.


    <hr>


    Judas had been... twenty four, was it? Twenty four, freshly moved to Vitus with big aspirations for her life... Well, ''freshly moved'' in the last two years. Vitus had still been shiny and new, back then - there was no smog in the sky, there was no grime on the streets, and the buildings weren''t yet Brutalist eyesores. It looked normal.


    Even remembering that normalcy caused Judas''s heart to quiver. She had been working for the old ''owners'' of Vitus - Tanakara Technologies, back when that name still meant anything to anyone at fucking all. In those days when Tanakara was a household name in the UNAC, Judas had been there for the golden age of it all: she had climbed the ranks, mingled with the right people, said the right things and did the right work, all to grease the right wheels. She had put in every ounce of her being.


    And where had it gotten her? She had burst up through the ranks, tearing up the corporate hierarchy like a bullet tore up flesh. But, just as every bullet did, she eventually came to a forced rest - right in the heart of Tanakara''s power structure. Notable corporate status, a real mover and shaker... She had earned her position, despite what everyone said behind her back. She had climbed there, fair and square...


    <hr>


    Thuds came from outside the bathroom as someone knocked. A friendly voice offered solace, and inquired as to her status - the words didn''t fully register, but the intent was deciphered without issue. "Yep, Jack, I''m good. Just. Please. Go get me..."


    Something. She couldn''t even recall what she had asked for. She wanted something - of course she did. Anything to try and pull her from this reverie before she came to its awful, hateful end. It always ended the same, every time she slept... Every time she closed her eyes, even so many decades later... She wished that, just one time, it would change. She wished, bitterly and before she could dam up her feelings, that she were different. She wished she were a better person.


    Once Blackjack had left - she had, of course, kept him on retinue after the incident at Kehler Complex - she blinked her eyes like she was trying to crush them with their own lids. Tears trickled down without restraint; they fell into the porcelain bowl below, and for all the vitriol and regret, they may as well have hissed like acid.


    <hr>


    Back in her memory, Judas remembered the deal - one of the other board members, the vice president himself, had come to her. He said he saw her ambition... Thought she was just what the company needed. He also said he knew about the things Judas had already done to secure her place in Tanakara - and so, he had an offer for her.


    He needed someone willing to get things done, outside the eyes of the law... outside the eyes of the rest of the board members, too. Judas was close enough to the top to do what needed to be done, but not so high up that she would be monitored. She was in the perfect position to do what, he said, needed to be done. For the future of Tanakara, of Vitus... and of Judas herself. So, he laid out the deal.


    Judas was supposed to kill the CEO, allow him, this vice-president, to rise to the top of the company. And in return? She would be his right hand, and would get all the power she had ever wanted. It had been made to sound so simple; it had sounded so easy.


    She had to consider it for a month before she agreed. She had never taken a life before - not like this, not in this way. She had paid to have some people offed, or just arranged for accidents to happen, but... this time it was different. This time it was more personal, and more difficult than any other.


    Outside the dream, Judas felt her neck grow taut as her body tensed - the plunge further into memory wracked her bodily with pain, and she gasped for air as thorns seemed to bloom from her every vein.


    Images flashed through in a slideshow, sometimes forming small snippets with sound and motion, mostly remaining as snapshots caught in time. Moving day - the cake - the box cutter - the sunshine. People don''t die quickly when they are stabbed in the gut. Judas had wanted to watch that woman die - the not-yet-a-vampire had wanted to make sure she was dead, and that she suffered. Judas wanted to make her suffer like she had made Judas suffer.


    Guilt. Stomach-wrenching guilt. The buzz of a phone - the knock on the door. A bathtub filled with acid - acid that wasn''t as strong as she wanted, or needed. The leather interior of a car that wasn''t hers, but was close enough to hers that no one thought it odd. The scent of a pig sty on a rainy Autumn evening; the feeling of something sloppy and wet and hacked to pieces, poured out of a garbage bag.


    <hr>


    Judas, in the present time, felt like she had been punched in the stomach. She hunched over the sink and quivered from head to toe, retching hard as dry heaves wracked her form. Her white-knuckle grip on the sink''s edges had long since broken through its fragile body, and she only now did she realize that chunks of porcelain were piercing her palms. For less than a second, she thought about bandaging up - but instead, she simply gripped the fragments harder. She didn''t give a fuck - not now.


    The end of the recollection came with that same force that it always did - a front-page obituary for Aoi Tanakara, murdered in her own apartment. Judas had given a statement - of course she had been asked for one. It was plastered there on the front page, right beneath the smiling face of the dead CEO; it said, simply, "Tanakara Technologies will survive, and Vitus will thrive. We will bring the perpetrator to justice."


    That was the last time she had seen her mother''s face.


    Suddenly, everything went grey - and when Judas arose again, the polished latex of her ''provocative'' little black dress (picked out by the hired help) creaking as she pushed to a sit, she was in the bathtub. A familiar face now leaned over her - he was dressed, as always, in his armor. She had grown fond of that armor, despite herself - and his dumb little insignia, of a heart riddled with bullet holes. This time, however, he was devoid of helmet.


    Pale skin was shrouded by an abundance of silky-looking ebon hair, formed into a thick, gently feathered mop. His features were sharpened to a point, and his jaw was simultaneously strong and narrow - the edge of a cavalry sabre. His prettyboy looks were only disrupted by a single, long scar that ran from the top of his right cheekbone (just below his eye) to just above his jawline. A shame - but he obviously kept it for a reason. Not like he couldn''t just get it fixed, on his paycheck.


    Powerful but streamlined brows were arched in concern, hooding the striking blues that they hovered above. Judas nearly snickered up at him - he looked so normal. Frankly, he looked like he''d spend his time at places like the Jezze, that awful little hole she had found EJ and Est in... though, in a way, it made sense that he''d want to work for her, then.


    "Judas? Are you-" Blackjack was concerned for her, genuinely. That was cute. Pathetic, honestly.. she was more resilient than this little boy would ever be. God, he had to be, what - twenty two? Twenty four? No older than twenty six, if nothing else. Still fresh around the gills, and yet he always acted with such bluster, such confidence.


    It nearly made Judas angry, that someone like him was supposed to be protecting her. Judas reached a hand up to take Blackjack by the chin, holding him with a delicate force that whispered promises of brutality should he lean away. "Baby boy, Black-ja-a-ack, you are... Worrying yourself too much. I am fine. I''m always fine." A smile came then, more fake than the body of an Eastern harlot but still possessed of all the necessary thoughts and feelings to quash any questioning.


    If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Blackjack''s concern wavered for a moment, the loyal hound brought to heel and submit to its master. He shut his eyes, drawing in and releasing a single breath. Judas could see the wheels turning behind those gorgeous blues, even when they were hidden - she could see the way he had to adjust himself, his thought processes, his ideas, his role in the situation. He had to do so much just to keep her happy.


    That was what truly made her happy - that he should be so aggrieved by her demands, and yet, would still acquiesce.


    He opened his mouth, soft-nearly-pouty lips parting with a gentle smack. "Yes, Judas, you''re right - as your personal bodyguard, I am worrying far too much about your health and wellness. Please, let me give you my first death as an apology." He kept his eyes closed, letting the sarcasm and snark drip from his words to fill the empty bath. Judas smirked.


    Blackjack was one of the only few people in the entire world who could speak to her like that - speak to her like an equal, or even take shots at her like this. It was refreshing. It felt normal. Hell, it felt good, having a personal confidante that she could break character with. Though, of course, she''d never tell him that aloud - if he didn''t already know, he would never understand.


    Judas released the boy''s jaw and brushed herself off, even though the only thing marring her waterproof dress was the blood from her hands and her tears - and neither of those really stood out. Black on black, or clear on black, and all of it shiny and wetlook? She could bathe in India ink and no one would ever know.


    "Help me up, Jackie - I know you''re itching to get your hands back on me, right? Be mommy''s little helper; come on, I know you can~" The words were in jest - at least, she thought they were. Judas had never been interested in men, never in her entire life - and even now, she could still confirm her preference for women by slapping Vivica around a little. The rush of blood from hearing that neon-haired fuckdoll whine and cry was usually all Judas needed to sleep soundly at night.


    She''d need to see a therapist, she figured - not for the violent tendencies, though. She wanted to snuff out any potential psychosexual connection between Blackjack and-


    Oh? Suddenly she was lifted, without delay or notification. Blackjack had slipped his hands under her arms while she thought about which of her seven therapists she''d go to; now, he had drawn her smoothly to a stand. She wasn''t allowed to steady herself, either - he pulled her gently towards himself and away from the wall any time she tried to put a bloody palm against it.


    "Aht. No, no - I know you''re healing, but this is a party. Don''t aggravate your wounds, let them heal." He shot Judas a single, sly wink, one that nearly felt smug - was he being fucking smug about this? That riled Judas up a little made, her want to put him in his place... but, he was right. That was the worst part, wasn''t it? He was right. It was a party, her party, and here she was... Having a breakdown in her own master bathroom, palms bleeding, tongue freshly healed... She needed to be presentable.


    For her own pride, if nothing else, she needed to be presentable.


    Judas spat some of the blackened blood, which had yet lingered in her mouth, into Blackjack''s face. It hit his lips with a wet sound and splattered across his visage, getting an oily smear on his left cheek. He flinched, just barely - but rather than a scowl, his face now bore a smile. Fuck him and his stupid, Tsang-dental-insurance perfect teeth.


    "Fine. I''ll be out in a bit. Do me a favor, hm?" She didn''t wait for him to acknowledge her request, much less respond to it - she knew he had to say yes, no matter what it was. "Go get Vivica. I-" The rest of the words tumbled out of her brain and to the floor below, no longer grasped within her mind''s eye. Panic flared up within Judas''s core, every alarm blaring and bell ringing at full volume - she could feel her ears ringing from bloodflow, and her vision swam anew.


    No. No no no. Even if... Even if Blackjack was sort of safe, ''safe'', he was still just a first-living mook who she paid to kill and die for her. And Vivica? Was just a body, just a doll to be posed and kicked and fucked and discarded when Judas had taken all that she could. This house, too, was meaningless - and so were the people within it, every single one of them. She couldn''t let them in - she could never let a single fucking one of them in.


    She''d made that mistake already, and even once time was one time too many.


    Her lips went through the motions of speaking, relaying words and intent that came from muscle memory and unconscious thought more than active, prescient effort and consideration. She told Blackjack to ''just bring her here'', and also a single glass of wine, and some food. She said something flirty to him - she might have even caressed his cheek, though maybe the black on his cheek was just more smeared blood-spit. When he walked out, though, Judas dropped back down to her knees.


    Fuck. She was so fucked up - so very, very fucked up. Why was she being like this? Why was this happening to her? Why couldn''t she stop it? She didn''t like Blackjack - he was just a boot. She didn''t like Vivica - she was a meaningless warm body to use. Everything was fucking meaningless. Fucking, fucking, meaningless!


    Judas slammed her hand against the nearest wall, fracturing tiles and mercifully missing any woodwork. This was a conversation that she had had with herself before - many times throughout the many decades, and yet, every single time it hurt as though the wounds were fresh, and the flensed skin was newly raw. She had far outlived her time on this earth - immortality, as requested, was achieved. The Benefactor would be happy enough with this state, even if he couldn''t have kids.


    And yet, the blessing was a curse, too. It had been in the first ten years of her deathless existence when she had first noticed it... Noticed these strange feelings, the absences, the missing chunks of memory and the hollow void in her gut and her chest and her mind. It had made her feel weak.


    When first she had felt weak, what had she done? The memory was seared into her eyelids, though not in nearly so much detail as the other pains that ate her inside and out. She had dragged her supervisor out onto the sidewalk by his tie, ignoring every word that slipped past his flabby, perverse lips... and she had taken a glass bottle, the bottle of Crackle that she had been drinking, and put it to his teeth. It had felt good. Sickeningly good. Vomit-inducingly good - and so, she had vomited atop his bloodied form, body quivering from adrenaline and mind racing fast enough to kick up a whirlwind.


    Thus began her tendency, her nasty little habit; she had explored with coworkers, sex workers, lonely women on dating apps, even reeking-drunk strangers at Vitus''s many dive bars. Beatings. Canings. Whippings. Choking. An elevation to knife play... stabbing, tracing, lacerating, carving... And then, of course, biting. Vampiric fangs were just oral knives, after all.


    More and more. Excess after excess. She had to get worse and worse, more and more violent, crawling further into the pits of depravity. She changed her name, embracing a sort of stage persona... A crafted self, because facing the truth of the self was as awful as the self in question. When she got her updated birth certificate, with Judas Alighieri instead of Yukari Tanakara, just seeing it had nearly made her cum. It had been so good, for so long... she hadn''t felt weak in decades, at least not long enough for it to really set in before she could brutalize an innocent.


    But now, it was fading again. Everything was fading. She would have liked to think of it like... like eating too much cake. You started to go numb to the sugar and the jams after a while, even though it had been so fucking delicious when you started. Judas noted, wryly, that she hadn''t eaten actual cake in close to sixty years.


    Another dagger stabbed her straight through the chest, knitting itself between her ribcage and slicing free the tender meat of her soul. She was getting bad again, and she didn''t know how to stop it. She didn''t know how to stop herself from spiraling out. This time, it would be a bad spiral, too - she would hurt a lot of people, if she let herself. She couldn''t let herself, no matter how easy it would have been to just let slip those dogs of war. She would never have been able to recover.


    A single footstep - then another, then another, then an earth-shattering crash as her left fist kissed the mirror''s virgin lips and ruined it forever. That was good - she didn''t want to look at herself. She didn''t want to see what she had become.


    Nothing helped the void. Nothing made her happy, or excited, or satisfied - not for more than a few minutes, anyways. Not violence, not sex, not money, not... The laundry list repeated itself again, and then again, and then again. A singular question hammered into her frontal lobes time after time, the impact of each blow worsening and causing the blood-drinker to physically tremble. She had started to cry again.


    ''What''s the point of living forever if nothing matters anymore?'' It repeated on a loop, and before her eyes she saw the life she had built for herself crumbling into dust. If the people didn''t matter, the places didn''t matter, the money and the power and the influence didn''t matter, why would she want to live forever? What was the fucking point, if everything began to blend into a sickening hedonistic slurry after a few decades? Why shouldn''t she just drive on down to a crematorium and throw herself in?


    A knock came at the door - it sent her, momentarily, back to the slideshow of earlier. Those memories couldn''t get their hooks in her this time, though, and she turned to cast her dewy-eyed gaze towards the bathroom''s sole entrance. "W-What? What is it? I''m fuckin'' powdering my nose in here, you l-little perv-"


    "It''s me, Judas. I have Vivica. She''s got your food, and some party favors. I made sure of it. I''m opening the door now." No waiting for a response, the exact same respect for the completion of his task that Judas had given to the instruction of it. That was good, though, she made an effort to force herself to realize - it was good that he just opened the door, because if he hadn''t, Judas might have sent him away. That would have hurt worse, but it would have made sense.


    The door opened. Blackjack stood there, a thin plastic rectangle hanging from the right side of his mouth - from the scent of his breath and the air that followed him, it was some sort of psychedelic. Beside him stood Vivica, her bruises having healed admirably, her body quivering with fear beneath a fetishistic nurse''s uniform - complete with exam gloves, and thick white heels that bore a red heart with a white plus.


    Vivica, all neon green waves and bruise-darkened eye makeup, looked to Judas with the same sort of fear and awe that the lamb holds for the wolf. In her hands, she held a silver platter. A blue-rare steak dinner sat atop fine china thereupon, with a glass (and bottle) of that same bloody champagne Judas had shared with Esper James, all those days ago... It felt like years, though it had only been weeks. Three condoms sat beside a plastic baggie of alabaster powder, the ensemble completed with a fresh, un-sullied straight razor.


    "Go get her, Jude. I know-" Blackjack began, and surely there was more to follow - but before it could, Judas snarled and pointed an accusatory finger in his direction. "You do not call me Jude, you sniveling little f-fucking insect! Do not ever call me fucking Jude! My name is Judas! I don''t do pet names!" The tears came faster now, hotter too, and stronger; Yellowstone had erupted in her eyes, and molten lava painted her face in new shades of sorrow.


    Blackjack had the good sense to widen his eyes and take a step back - it showed deference, subservience, and acceptance of her directive. It also, thankfully, helped ground Judas a bit: seeing him react with genuine surprise and worry, actually acknowledge that he had fucked up, dulled the blades of Judas''s rage considerably. She let her fingers fall even as he raised both his hands in a feigned surrender.


    "Ah, Miss Alighieri, I''m truly sorry for such a gross overstepping of my station, I... I''m really, God, really sorry, I...-" Second verse same as the first - Judas waved her still-raised hand dismissively, letting a melancholy sigh slip free from her lips. That sigh drooped down to touch the ground alongside her gaze, and her spirits.


    "No, Jack. I... This hurts me to say this, but I have to. You deserve to know, and... Fuck it. No stalling. I''m sorry. You didn''t... You didn''t know that I''ve... got some attachments to being called Jude. You didn''t know that I didn''t want you to call me that. You did what I asked, bringing Viv here, and getting us- me some food, and fun stuff. I..." Here, all the momentum in her monologue seemed to dissipate into nothingness. The wind that had once unfurled her sails and billowed forth to guide her now left her boat stranded at sea. She used an oar to paddle to land.


    "...I shouldn''t have yelled at you. Not this time. Don''t you ever fucking tell anyone I said that." She needn''t have added that last part, in truth - it felt rather implied, what with the tears and the sudden ragged nature her voice held, and the smashed tiles and mirror and sink. There was a lot that had happened in that bathroom tonight that no one outside of the three of them should ever know.


    Blackjack let his shoulders fall back to a relaxed state, and he nodded - no snarky, cocksure smile at getting one up on Judas this time. No comment in that vein, either, or anything other than a somber observation by his shocking blues. After a few moments of tense, torrid silence, he took a step back forward - using now his right hand, against Vivica''s ass, to urge her forward alongside him.


    "I forgive you, Judas. I meant it - I didn''t mean to upset you, and I am legitimately sorry that it seems like I did. I won''t do it again. You might be my boss, but that doesn''t mean I can''t like you - and I don''t want to piss off someone I''m glad to know, either." He may as well have been punching Judas with every word, the way it impacted her.


    Hearing such kindness... fake or not (she couldn''t tell right now, hazed with feeling as she was), it still meant something he''d even try to comfort her. It meant something that he''d want to calm her down, and put in any effort at all to do so. Judas felt her lips curve upwards into a smile, wobbly but true - the tears came to a gradual stop as her expression shifted, and she nodded to the door.


    "Close the door. Lock it. Stay here with us. Don''t ask questions - don''t say anything. Just let this happen, okay?"Blackjack nodded, and at his side, Vivica felt her knees grow weaker than usual. Neither spoke.


    They had just been told not to, after all.

 Act Five (Ch. 93) - A Bitter Interlude: Ich Tu Dir Weh [Pt. 2]

    It felt good - felt good watching... Watching the water start to pour into the tub, watching Blackjack turn it off, watching him start the shower instead... watching the pair of her playthings do as they did, exist within her purview, follow her rules without her needing to mind them every waking moment. Judas only realized she was gripping Vivica like a vice because the poor girl finally, desperately, released a cry of pain. The vampiress''s eyes widened with shock, surprised despite herself - and then, surprised at her own surprise. Didn''t she like that sort of thing? Wasn''t hurting Vivica fun?


    A cold ichor pumped through Judas''s veins, then, chilling her heart like a flash-frozen piece of produce. She didn''t linger on the introspection long enough for the ice to set deeper than the surface of her mental lake; instead, she mumbled out an apology to the doll-cum-toy-cum-bodypillow. She didn''t even have the wherewithal for that to strike her as odd; truthfully, it was probably better that she didn''t.


    The idea struck her, then, in her mental scrabble for something non-catastrophic to focus on, that they were at a party. She was hosting a party, with everyone worth anything in Vitus in attendance. She could definitely do something way more fun than... what was this, anyways? The prelude to sloppy, drug-fueled sex in the bathroom? In a running shower? Judas narrowed her eyes as she regarded the running water, eyes losing focus as she imagined what would come next - or, if not next, eventually.


    Shower sex was inconvenient.


    Inconvenient, yes... but she had to make an impression. She had to make a serious impression, one that would last... And besides, something big and flashy didn''t feel quite right - she didn''t want to make a spectacle of this. Not this time; no, this time? She wanted to keep this to herself - to the three of them.


    Judas turned to Vivica fully, then - it took her some moments to realize, and ponder, that Vivica was looking up at her like an orphan getting her first Christmas present. What had Judas done? What was the fucking hang-up? She''d stopped pinching the neon-haired night nurse, so why was the brat still looking up at her like - Oh. The apology. Judas''s head began to spin a little, brain on a lazy Susan as she tried to make sense of her own actions. She was two seconds from asking Vivica outright why Judas had apologized to her - as if the captured dissident would have an answer - but a clearing of the throat from the executive''s soon-to-be-boytoy drew her from her haze.


    Oh, that''s right - she had told them not to speak. Good. No one should be speaking but her.


    He was waiting at-attention, the shower having warmed up enough that steam started to fill the room. Both ladies'' outfits were condensation magnets, and the wetlook shine became genuine damp. Judas released Vivica''s waist, though not without giving her a quick, curt slap on the rear. She whimpered, but didn''t dare look away.


    "Here. Give me the platter, Vivica. You and Blackjack... go first. Coke, booze, a bite or two of steak - in that order, yeah? And if you don''t finish your line, or your drink, I''ll put your face in the tray until you do." There was no hint of play in her voice; no implication of a joke being made, or an exaggeration being offered. She was serious, about all of it. Especially the part about putting their faces in the tray.


    Vivica handed off the platter without a fuss. Click clack went her heels, the ostentatious sex-shop stunners more than a little difficult to manage on slowly-wettening bathroom tile. Her fetish costume groaned almost imperceptibly as she bent down, her hands shaking like leaves as the baggy was snatched and timidly, reluctantly, opened; she couldn''t exactly tell Judas she had never done this before. Under the sadist''s purview, she''d done a lot of stuff she''d never done before - mostly get kicked, put on a leash, shot, and made to walk on all fours in public. Mostly.


    Blackjack took a step forward, standing to Vivica''s side with intimate closeness. With one hand, he held her hair up so it didn''t get in the wine, or in the steak, or in the coke; with his other, he took the razor. No words. After all, none were needed for the both of them to come to an agreement, assistance easily given without anything so vocal as to breach Judas''s orders. Vivica poured the baggy out, then setting the empty plastic to the side of the champagne bottle - Blackjack, for his part, put the razor to practiced use. Without delay, three fat lines of ivory powder lay atop the mirror-like tray, sinful indulgence calling out from each bleach-white speck.


    Judas nodded upwards, gesturing to the cocaine. This was... good. She could feel the power coming back to her - the disgusting, addicting, undeniable power of her station. Watching, as she had earlier found, felt good - and watching Vivica and Blackjack fumble around the packet of hard drugs, and stumble through cooperation without the use of voices, felt even better.


    Vivica had her line, then, but hadn''t the heart to go through with it. Her legs were shaking, her knees trembling, her lower lip a-quiver; wide eyes flicked upwards towards Judas''s own, but they only got as far as her chest before they backed down like a dog that was kicked. An awkward still fell over the room, only broken by the subtle rush of the shower''s man-made rainfall... awkward for the two bitches, anyways. Judas was feeling so much better now.


    The ebon tendrils of pain and grief had receded to their holes; even the faintest whisper of derealization had been cast out, and every fiber of Judas''s body was beginning to thrum. Beneath her lips, and the tight-lipped smile of a wicked tyrant, her newly-healed tongue went across her top row of fangs despite herself. Looking down at Vivica contemplate what came next, procrastinate as completely as she could, do anything short of beg for reprieve... it filled Judas''s heart to the point of stretching the seams. A hateful sort of amour dripped from the leaks in her chest, and she could stand the other woman''s delay no longer.


    "You''re taking too long, toy. We''re waiting." Her right hand held the platter steady, keeping it flat and still; her left hand, however, rose in an instant. It wasn''t a sort of speed used to intimidate, or to overpower, or for means of malice; rather, its purpose was simply to make contact before Vivica even had the chance to perceive it. There was no wriggling out of this for her.


    Judas''s hand found rest upon the back of Vivica''s neck, touching down gently enough to cause no harm, but forcefully enough that Viv almost smashed her face into the tray. Instinctively, she tried to stand up to full height - to rally against Judas''s touch, to distance herself from the drugs she was being coerced into taking. The Tsang tsarina wouldn''t, and couldn''t, allow that. Her thumb and forefinger pressed into the sides of her playmate''s neck, firmly enough to begin restricting her airflow though not to crush her windpipe; just a playful bit of choking, really. ''Playful''.


    Almost immediately, Judas began the second part of her barrage: to pump the poor girl full of vampiric influence, palm and thumb and forefinger more than enough skin-to-skin contact to send her target into fucking overdrive. Judas focused on it actively, directing every bit of pressure she could - from the pheromones, to the unseen waves of thought and desire, to the directed heat of her skin on Vivica''s. The reaction was everything she hoped it would be, and more.


    The poor girl nearly fell, knees buckling like faulty supports - she wobbled on her legs as a newborn fawn, eyes first widening to their fullest extreme before shutting tightly to revel, despite herself, in the sensation. The warmth which now rippled over her... The tingle in every inch of her flesh, and the blood-gift that was heightened sensation, increased awareness, and emphasized physicality... her body shifted despite itself, muscles trembling, flexing, loosening, and aching like she had gorged herself on fresh red. A shuddering sound, that of a moan caught halfway with a wind-whipped shutter, rattled from her throat - alongside a single tear, formed in the only instant her sober mind had to process what was happening.


    Blackjack rushed to catch her, dropping the razor without a second thought - it clattered softly to the tray, landing in the outermost line and spreading powder as it did. His hands went to her hips and his body made itself known at her rear, doing his best to hold her up without outright carrying her; it took her some moments, moments of her body trembling in that rainfall-punctuated silence, before she could truly make use of his support.


    As her eyes began to open again, the initial rush no longer keeping her head pushed so far beneath sanguine waves, Judas spoke again. This time, her tone was imperious, demanding - but also calm, and tinged with that breathiness which only a practiced seductress could dredge from their chest. "Vivica... Sweetheart... You know what I want you to do, right? What I need you to do... don''t you?"


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Vivica''s knees, which had only just ceased their trembling, were set to knock once more. The scent of lust had now begun to prick at Judas''s senses, the telltale sign that she had her victim right where she wanted them; Vivica hadn''t even the focus to be embarrassed, or resentful, of her body''s involuntary reactions. She could only mumble-whine a response, words reduced to mush and humidity against the tray''s surface, but their intent more than clear enough.


    Judas squeezed harder, only a sliver more, but enough to truly restrict Vivica''s airflow. There would still be enough, of course, for her to do as ordered... but little more would be within a stone''s throw of ''feasible''. The dominatrix pulled back her lips to smile fully now, ivory trim for those iconic gold daggers; she flashed a conspiratorial look up to Blackjack. He looked perturbed... but made an effort to smile back, even if his heart wasn''t truly in it.


    "Then do it."


    Ask and you shall receive - order, and it shall be followed. Emphatically. Vivica scrunched her already-shut eyelids as she forced in a breath through her left nostril, right hand going to close that side less than a second before her pull. The entire line disappeared in short order, even a bit of the line just beside it getting caught up in her rush to do as she was told - her intake only halted by Judas outright ceasing her airflow, fingers closing her throat off just enough that she couldn''t snort any more of their shared party favours. Once Vivica realized what was going on, and fumbled through indicating she was done, Judas allowed her to stand at full height once again.


    The noncompliant nurse straightened her back, with Blackjack''s help, her body now leaning into his own with no small amount of her weight. She was fairly lean, though; Blackjack was weighed down more presently by his own aiding and abetting of what was going on than any physical strain he might have borne.


    "Good girl, Vivica. Good girl..." The champagne was ignored - Judas had gotten more than enough of a rush from this alone, and her blood was pumping hot and fast just from watching. Watching, as she had discovered multiple times this evening, was good. She licked her lips as Vivica stumbled forwards, remembering Judas''s earlier orders about the steak, and the wine - but she was held back by the concerned Tsang security officer at her rear, keeping her from doing anything too zealous, or stupid, in her sudden delirium.


    Only issue? Now it was his turn.


    Judas gestured with her newly-freed hand to the shower, giving Viv a wink. "Be a good little toy and get in there for me, won''t you~? I promise I''ll be gentle this time - I''m getting tired of seeing you cry, you know..." Ice again; pain again. This time, it was the realization that she actually, honestly, meant it -  that she was growing tired of Vivica''s pain, and that she had subconsciously resolved to stop hurting her. At least... stop hurting her like that. There would always be room for a little sting in every sugared caress, but now?


    Seeing her cry, and swoon, and scrabble to acquiesce to Judas''s demands? It was all too reminiscent of the blonde. That blonde. Judas couldn''t even think of her name, not out of forgetfulness, but because considering the secretary''s name would be too much for her. It would remind Judas of the missing link in her chain of command, the ghoul-shaped hole in her patchwork quilt. It would ruin the moment - this moment, so rife with those endorphins that kept the vampiress sane and stable. She suppressed a tremble in her hands as she moved past the thought of everything and anything blonde, much less possessed of sharp teeth, and green eyes, and a timid little voice-


    Blackjack, again, saved her. Inadvertently this time, it was undeniable, but his was still the gesture which snapped Judas from delusion. He had helped Vivica clip-clop-clip over to the shower (here she now stood, huddled in the corner as if shamed but watching with doeish eyes), and now he was bent at the waist to take his position over the platter. He took their semi-seclusion as an opportunity to address his superior.


    "Judas... I''m worried about you. I... Fuck, Judas, you''re getting worse. You know that, right?" His sheer audacity, to speak to her like they were equals, was more than enough to shatter the pane of Judas''s frosted mental glass, and let the light of awareness shine in. She snapped her gaze down to meet his own, those icy, piercing blues cutting her to her core. There was no contempt in his eyes; no condescension, no hatred, no revulsion. Only concern. Only genuine, compassionate concern for his superior.


    Judas felt her stomach roil, stomach acid now a tumultuous sea as though the kraken of guilt and shame that dwelled within would force its way out, should she relent. Her hands trembled anew, though this time her focus was placed firmly upon the physical - the real world, the world she could reach out and touch and grope and break and tear, should she choose. That was, if she could choose; in this instant, she was frozen.


    She was getting worse. She was getting so much worse, every day, and she didn''t even know why. She had been a vampire for sixty-or-so odd years, and had been relatively the same the entire time - sure, she had reached her lucky number 7''th therapist in the last few years, but that wasn''t because of any sort of mental deterioration. She just enjoyed the way these shrinks squirmed when she spun them tales of utter woe, and pain, and traumatization - ones she knew were horrible and nightmarish, just to see them struggle to tell her something she would want to hear.


    But now, having it addressed by someone else - recognized by someone else - her blood was set to liquid nitrogen. Where moments ago she had been red-hot and raring to go, she now felt weak again. Weak, small, and confused - and scared. Everything in her brain screamed at her to put up a stiff upper lip, to show dominance and confidence and superiority. She was in control, of course. Wasn''t she?


    It was a monumental display of self control to not bite through her tongue for the second time today.


    She put on a wavering smile, lips wobbling like one of those characters in the anime she watched in secret. "Hmm? Worse? What do you mean? I''m better than I''ve ever been - I''m richer than God, more powerful than Satan, and the whole of the West is at my feet. What could be worse about me?" The bluff was bold, and less convincing than she would have liked - deception tended to be less deceiving when one''s voice warbled like a songbird while putting it forth. The gambit, in the end, paid off - but only so far as to get Blackjack off her back, for the moment.


    He sighed, shutting his eyes and leaning down an inch more; he closed off his left nostril and took in a smaller, preparatory breath through his mouth, steeling himself for what came next. He could only hope that this wouldn''t be his first death; that would be a mood killer, wouldn''t it?


    "We''ll talk about this later. But you''re getting worse, you know you''re getting worse, and ignoring it won''t help. It''ll hurt you, and us. And-" His monologue was sliced in twain as a tatami mat used for swordplay training; Judas held the blade, of course, and she was merciless with its edge. Her voice hissed through her grit teeth, the smile now edging towards a grimace with every passing moment.


    "Shut the fuck up and snort your line, Blackjack. I need this. You need this, if you want to keep your job. Vivica needs this, because if she doesn''t, then what good is she to me? Why am I keeping her around? Don''t make me regret keeping you two around." The edge of her lips twitched as she fought back the urge to scream, to unleash the demon which dwelt in her breast, to expose her pair of playthings to the rawest, most direct showing of her turmoil that she could muster. He sighed again, this one tinged with a sadness that cut Judas more deeply than any silvered blade.


    "Yes, ma''am." And like that, his line disappeared, taken with the sort of resignation one gives to their last cigarette before execution. He shivered as it hit his system, Vitus''s purest snow coming neither from the sky nor a ski hill. He shuddered again, and again, his neck and face tensing, untensing, and tensing again as it worked its way into him. He staggered back a few steps, eyes still shut - and, without prompting, began to undo his uniform.


    Judas felt her smile reinforced, even if it was only delusion which gave her strength in this moment. She set the tray down on a nearby decorative table, pushing aside some scented candles and a statuette of a nude woman to make room for it; she stayed low, however, taking a preparatory breath of her own.


    There was no hesitation on her part - she was already dead, and had done coke enough times to know what was coming. It would feel like the blood, and then she would drink the bloody champagne from the glass, and the blood would feel like coke. She''d be hard enough to nail the both of them to the wall like the paintings in the manse''s hallways, they''d both do what she wanted when she wanted it, and then... Frankly, Judas felt inclined to keep them longer. Just for fun.


    The coke went up her nose; her dress came off; she followed Blackjack into the shower. As she had said earlier, shower sex was inconvenient - but inconvenient didn''t mean unenjoyable, if your playmates were hopped up on drugs and willing to listen to your every command. Vivica''s body was plush, supple, satisfying; despite her lean build, Judas had sent her to a personal mortician to be more suitable. Blackjack, by comparison, was something new, and firm, and fun, but never outshone by - or outshining - his partner in provision. His was a body more suited for a runway than guard work, really - though that was, again, Judas''s decision making at work. Regardless, the sounds he made (and that he could pull from Vivica, as the drugs took them and their senses truly left them) were plenty of fun, Judas thought.


    And, leaning against the wall with both partners on their knees, showing her their oral deference? Judas was glad she''d made that appointment those weeks ago. She''d have to see if they could fix her brain, too.

 Act Five (Ch. 94) - Under The Sun; or, Comfort Of A Caress

    After their little moment, flaunting the freedom and excitement of being freed from the convent (and with it, the abbess''s clutches), the five women all decided to try and relax. They''d do their best, if nothing else.


    The idea was posed, by Lucretia, that they should all pile into the bed and watch a movie, or listen to music, or both. This idea was met with resounding approval - Zofia nearly leapt at the promise of outside media, something she had long been forbidden within the confines of the convent. Purity was, initially, surprised: Lucretia was adjusting well, and rapidly, to this new life outside the watchful eye of the church. Still, a movie sounded good... and even more so if she could snuggle up to her twin lovers at the same time.


    Esthrielle wasn''t shy of the idea of cuddling. Frankly, she was glad for an excuse for them all to just get some skinship, and any reason to nestle herself up to Purity and EJ was a good reason. Esper James, the last woman polled for her answer, was delighted by the prospect: her lips were pulled wide before she even had time to register that she was smiling, mouth full of ivories on full display to demonstrate her eagerness.


    Purity, then, approached the wall directly opposite the bed, as the other women watched and waited. After all, Purity was the only one with a phone out of the five of them... and frankly, Lucretia had kind of been banking on using said phone as their mode of consumption for whatever media they ended up on.


    However, a chorus of gasps and wonder-laced ''oohs'' and ''ahhs'' arose as Purity reached the dresser, and the wall just behind it. With an experienced hand that spoke more of familiar muscle memory than a clever guess, she reached around the back of the solid wooden furnishing - then, the other four ladies could only hear a small, near-imperceptible click. The click came and went, silence rushing to fill the void which followed; the silence was short-lived. A long rectangular slot opened on the ceiling, a section of the tile sliding away to make room for a full-sized flat screen television to be lowered down by the grace of a single mechanized arm.


    She turned back to the peanut gallery as the TV lowered itself to rest a foot or so above the dresser''s flat, polished top. "So, ladies? What are we watching?" Blue eyes had returned to pink, now, as felt most characteristic of the least fatale of the room''s femmes. Seconds ticked away as each woman in attendance considered their own preference, then considering what would be most apt for a group viewing... voices came up in disparate measure, Lucretia starting the inevitable cascade of opinions.


    "I''m the one who suggested a movie, and I''d feel kinda selfish if I decided on everything, yeah? No comedies, though. I''m... I''m not quite comfortable enough for one of those, yet." She gave an apologetic smile to the pinkette, feigning sheepishness in the face of Purity''s inquiry. Zofia was quick to chime in, nodding so rapidly her umber hair whipped about from the unbridled enthusiasm. "Yeah, I, ah... I don''t wanna watch a comedy! It''s too soon after, ah... You know, yeah? Too soon for me to feel ready for being light hearted."


    The former researcher offered a similarly bashful grin, gaze snapping away to her left - not to anything in particular, save for her desire not to be looking at Purity. Only Esper James and Esthrielle yet remained, and (for once in her life) EJ decided to take the initiative. She sat up a modicum straighter, having still been sat on the foot of the bed. "No comedy - but what about a romance, yeah? Romances are fun!"


    Romances are fun, EJ! Good girl.


    As Lucretia nodded her approval, and Zofi''s smile bloomed into nervousness at the idea of anything romantic, Esthrielle interjected her own preference. "Romances are fun, but y''know what else is fun? Fuckin'' action movies. Let''s watch, like, James Wick or something; you know, the hit-man movie? I saw so many posters for it during ops, but I never had a chance to watch it..." She trailed off to silence, her fellow Waywards beginning a new wave of nodding and approval at this suggestion. To be honest, EJ was pretty sure they''d say yes to anything, so long as it wasn''t a comedy.


    Purity sighed with theatrical exaggeration, cocking her hips and head in opposite directions, eyes now drifting up to the ceiling. Her hands went to her hips to complete the full-body gesture, her mock exasperation landing with the sort of accuracy that even classically-trained performers could only ever dream of achieving.


    "Fi-i-ine. I''ll be the deciding vote, then. Hmm... Romance or action... Action or romance..." As with her prior actions, the performative way she pretended to think long and hard about this choice was more than commendable: her sights lowered but only so she could stare at the opposite wall, lips screwing up as though deep in difficult thought. Eventually, after a few seconds had ticked away while her audience waited in mute anticipation, she shut her eyes and gave a single affirmative nod.


    "Okay. Action. Romance. Both great options. However... I think I know exactly what to watch." That was all she said, then; the top drawer of the dresser was slid open, and from beneath a neatly-folded stack of spare panties, she drew out a minuscule remote. Remote in hand, she shut the drawer and made her way back towards the bed - taking a seat upon its edge even as she powered on the television and began to flip through its inbuilt streaming directory.


    Lucretia, meanwhile, had begun to shimmy out of her nun''s habit. This was met without protest from the girls who were paying attention (everyone other than Purity), though not without curiosity: Esper James could only speculate as to what the hell she was doing, her eyes then affixing the bob-headed deserter with a curious, scrutinizing gaze. Lucretia noticed the collection of stares after only a few moments, laughter bubbling up from within her even as she tossed her old headdress into the nearest corner.


    "What? We''re gonna be chilling in the bed, right? No one sits on their bed''s blankets while watching a movie in the bedroom. It''d just be fucking weird. I''m gonna get down to my undies and chill out under the covers. You frigid prudes are welcome to join me, if you can help each other pull the sticks out of your asses!" She stuck her tongue out at the assembled party and winked, then going straight back to disrobing.


    Huh. That... That sorta made sense? Esper James had never really, well, never really been at a sleepover before... not a girls-only sort of sleepover, anyways. That''s kind of what this was, wasn''t it? A sleepover with the girls - both lovers and friends. Just a gaggle of gals being pals; just some femmes being friends. Just some... no, no, she couldn''t think of another one to keep that little alliteration train rolling; she did, however, hop to her feet and begin to strip down as well.


    This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    Esthrielle wasn''t far behind; Purity, however, was too busy finding whatever movie she had decided upon to join in. Zofia, the last lady that Esper James thought to check on to gauge her comfort, was shell shocked. She opened her mouth, closed it, opened it anew, and settled on keeping her lips shut; meanwhile, her eyes were positively frantic, darting between Lucretia, Esthrielle, and Esper James, in that order. If her pupils were pinballs, the Pole would have been getting the high score with little effort involved.


    EJ smiled to herself, snickering under her breath; she turned away from Zofi, knowing that seeing any more of the nervous woman''s girlish apprehension to semi-nudity would just keep her giggling. After a few moments more, the sound of shifting, shuffling cloth indicated that she had been swayed - just as Lucretia had finished dismissing her own outfit to the same corner she had thrown her headdress into.


    Our ghoulette heroine couldn''t help but look over to the black-and-purple-haired field operative, telling herself that she was just curious about the kind of garments nuns wore beneath their habits - and, to her surprise, what she saw nearly floored her. Lulu was wearing a lacy black bra with matching panties, a single hot pink bow sitting just below her waistline and just above her lap; the bra had a similar bow on either strap, but was otherwise unadorned save for its inherent lacy nature. Looking at Lulu now, in her shockingly modern (and shockingly lingerie-like) ensemble, EJ couldn''t help but think that Lulu looked more cut out for Vitus life than the secretary ever had.


    Delicate fingers took black-dyed tips in their grasp, their owner having turned her gaze down to consider them with something akin to envy forming a hot leaden block in her chest. The dyed tips were cool, she reminded herself; she assured herself, really. Just as cool as Lulu''s black bob with the neon purple inner layer... EJ''s plain white panties and bra were just as enticing as Lucretia''s lovely lace attire... She was just as interesting and hot and-


    To get herself away from becoming a literal green-eyed monster, EJ let the lock of hair drop from her hand, diverting her gaze now to Zofia. What was she hoping for? For Zofi to be dressed much the same as Lulu, to prove it was part of their uniform? To be dressed plainly, like the blonde herself? To be, who knows, naked? None of these options really made Esper James feel much better about the state of affairs.


    Thankfully, she was snapped from her petty bitterness by a strong hand, with coffee-coloured synthskin and bearing all the characteristic softness of said skin, placing itself on her cheek. It only required a small adjustment of her line of sight to notice Esthrielle had snuck up right beside her, a smug, catlike smirk on the Italian''s cocksure mug. "Oh, EJ? What - me and Purity not enough for you, ya little hopeless romantic? How long until you make a move on my former coworkers, eh, EJ~?" No laughter followed, but her smile did in fact widen; Est''s other hand wound back about a foot from EJ''s rear, then rushing towards her with a not-insubstantial amount of force.


    EJ yelped. Before she had a chance to reply, though, Purity found the movie she was looking for - and, after releasing a triumphant cheer, the pink-haired princess turned over to see what EJ was yelping about like a kicked puppy. What she found, of course, was Esper James trying not to put a hand back to rub at her new soon-to-be-sore spot. The blonde figured that such a thing would really just be a confession of weakness.


    Purity chuckled, turning as she stood up so as to better observe her new roommates. When she saw Lucretia, she allowed her gaze to linger all the way up until Lulu had pulled back the bedspread and slipped in beneath the covers and silken sheets; Purity didn''t have the same sort of shy nature that Esper James did, it seemed. However, there was a stillness in the air around Esper James that seemed heavy, and odd, as if something was left unsaid - and a single glance back over to Esthrielle, who was now fully smiling with all of those steely fangs, told EJ why.


    Oh, fuck. That''s right. Est had asked her a question, hadn''t she? Fuck, fuck, fuck, what was it... What to say here... "Yes?" EJ threw the word out like leftovers she''d forgotten in the fridge, the combination of the sting in her ass and the assessment of the other Waywards (and her assessment of Purity''s assessment) having thrown her brain into disarray. What had Est even asked her?


    It turned out not to matter, or maybe EJ had answered correctly; either way, Esthrielle burst into laughter, gathering EJ up in an impromptu embrace that put both women flesh-to-flesh in their partial nudity. Inside the confines of her mind, EJ high-fived herself for managing to slavage that awkward situation with the ''correct'' answer. She returned Est''s embrace happily, shutting her eyes and resting her head upon the Italian''s shoulder, breathing deeply so that she might drink in the moment, before releasing it in a huff of singular contentment.


    "Hahahaha~! EJ, EJ, you are... You are so fucking cute, you know that? Hahaha! God, you dunno what I even fucking said, do you, blondie?" And just like that, EJ''s confidence and pride melted like wax before an open flame, dribbling down to form a warm puddle of shy amusement. Okay, seems like she hadn''t actually knocked that one out of the park like she''d thought... and Est, having been trained to be able to pick up on these things, saw straight through her bullshit. Oopsies.


    EJ simply squeezed her lover more tightly in response, turning her face down so she might bury it into the crook of Esthrielle''s neck. Lips against skin, now, she muffled out a simple response - words were unnecessary when mere vocalization would do, of course. Or, so she hoped. "Mmmh-mmmh..." Admitting it didn''t hurt at all, and the immediacy with which EJ confessed her lack of situational awareness only seemed to delight Est further.


    The Wayward lifted her in the hug, torso swiveling upon its hips so as to shake Esper James with the tender elation and affection of a child receiving a new stuffed animal or pet. This, too, was happily accepted - this acceptance then doubled down upon, as Purity''s arms went around her back to snatch the both of them up. For a few moments, Esper James was the filling to a first-living, second-living, and New Way sandwich. Frankly? She wouldn''t have had it any other way. Feeling Est''s chest rise and fall with every breath, feeling Purity''s chest smooshing into her from behind, and knowing that they truly did care for her? Nothing could have made her quite so happy as this.


    Purity leaned down to kiss Esthrielle, giving her a strong but brief liaison of lips, before providing a very similar sort of comfort to Esper James. Pink lips touched pale skin, imparting the tingle that always came from sharing a tender moment with a lover; no need for anything more extreme than that, and for this, EJ was happy.


    After a few moments, Purity let EJ go, with Est letting her down. The ladies scrambled into the bed after only a moment''s delay to giggle, to rest their head upon the pillows, and to feel the comfort. Once EJ had met them, and all seemed to be becoming right with the world, those in assembly actually turned their attention to the movie. Said movie was some Western schlock about the a vampire and her lover, and fighting off vampire hunters to keep he safe; it''s a bit contrived, EJ thinks, But it''s better than nothing.


    Minutes turned to hours as they slogged their way through this, but it was already about bedtime anyways. It was exceedingly easy for them to stumble up, rush to the bathroom one-by-one to freshen up, and then snuggle back in to their assorted cuddle-pile for a proper sleep. They''d have plenty more of this to come, EJ hoped: plenty more casual, domestic comfort. Plenty more casual embraces, and sharing skinship with friends.


    She''d have to see, though she was certainly optimistic. Est still wouldn''t tell her what she had asked the ghoulette, though, even as they decided it was truly time for bed - she just laughed any time EJ brought it up. The blonde fell asleep with Esthrielle as her blanket, Purity as her pillows, and the two other women offering comforting background noise.


    Maybe things would finally be alright for them, yeah?

 Act Five (Ch. 95) - My Love For Evermore; or, Diesel Candy

    The next morning, the flock of mismatched birds were reluctant to vacate the nest.


    Purity was first, stumbling up and out - careful to replace her breasts with a pillow beneath EJ''s cheek as she did - to drift lazily towards the en suite washroom. She was well aware of the amenities, seeing as she had seen this room more times than she could count... but here and now, with only her gentle band to return to? There was a new excitement, and a distinct absence of dread, that came with the flicking of the lightswitch.


    Click. On came the lights, revealing the bathroom proper: charcoal-coloured tiles on the floor that led up the wall halfway, pitch-black wallpaper with a striking trim in gold Art Deco style, and a ceiling just as midnight as the wallpaper. The bathtub was enormous, and seemed to be made of creamy white marble (Purity knew it was fake); the toilet itself was nothing to write home about, but there was a bidet function. Finally, the sink was set into the top of a faux-hardwood affair; to its left, a trio of white-with-gold-trim towels hung on a slender rack, and on the right? A nearly-full box of condoms, tucked behind a potted succulent.


    Being back here was bittersweet. Bitter if she had been alone; sweet because she was here as a friend, not a worker.


    She''d thought a lot about this place, once she had moved past it. Thought a lot about... about the good, and the bad. About coming back here, if only for a steady supply of commissioned material - plus, supplementing her Tsang paycheques with Khetnep''s cash-only payroll let her have some real fun when she wasn''t on the schedule. She used to go out bowling every Monday... Used to go to a fuckton of concerts, any night she could clean up and fix her inevitably-ruined makeup before the tickets were all gone... Used to think about dating, and then dismiss it as a fantasy.


    That brought a wry, sorrowful smile to those plump pink lips. She''d used to think that she would never get to be anyone''s girl, much less a drop-dead (literally) cutie like Esper James, or a stunning little firebrand like Esthrielle. Now, here she was - heart full to the brim, back in a familiar room in a familiar part of town, knowing damn well that the five of them were going to be safe for the foreseeable future. Knowing that she was loved, and wanted, and cared for. She hadn''t felt ''loved'' once in the last three years; frankly, she hadn''t felt anything close to it before she moved to Vitus, either.


    She didn''t close the door as she bared herself, simultaneously writing off her companions as busy with sleep, and relishing a naughty bit of flame at the prospect of one of them seeing her do it. It had been a week or so since she and EJ and Est had had their initial round of lovemaking, in that dorm at the convent... but now, back here, drinking in the subtle aphrodisiac Khetnep had pumped in through the air vents? She wouldn''t mind a reminder of what it felt like.


    Once nude, she turned to the mirror to inspect herself. Everything was still there, unsurprisingly: the heavy, scalpel-kissed breasts; the midriff that had been cultivated down to an hourglass so very painstakingly; the hips that flared out like a pair of handles for anyone with hands to take them. Thick thighs? Check. DSL? Check. That gorgeous pink hime cut, the one she was so fucking proud of - the one she had gotten when she got her first paycheck from Tsang, as much to try and lure in new prey as to be a part of her body that those fuckers didn''t have a hand in? Meh... it had grown longer and less well-kept in their time at the convent, and the factory. She''d see if one of the working girls would trim it for her.


    And then, through the strands of her locks, she caught sight of a flash of blonde. Purity nearly jumped out of her skin as she whirled around on a heel, eyes frantic and body tense - but when her eyes fell upon a groggy-looking EJ, she relaxed in an instant. Without even waiting for the ghoulette to say something, Purity strode forth and gathered her petite paramour up as completely as she could. EJ let out a soft ''eep!'' as she was swaddled in Purity, but there wasn''t even a thought of resistance.


    EJ wriggled gently, like a domestic animal uncertain of what to do when embraced. There was even the brief touch of pricking tooth-tips upon bare flesh, though only in a playful manner; claws were withheld, at least what Esper James counted as claws. Really, one could just argue that her fingernails had grown from time untrimmed. She kicked impotently at the air when Purity lifted her, body always surprisingly light to her long-legged lover; Purity didn''t let her go even still, laughing to herself as the ghoul whined and writhed in faux-protest.


    Eventually, the taller of the two spoke up. "EJ! You spooked me! Babe, what''s up? You wanna take a bath together? I was right about to hop in, soak in the tub... There''s no shower in the room, but if you''d rather have a shower, there''re showers backstage for the performers. I could-" Purity was cut off by EJ biting her again, harder this time - hard enough to hurt. Puri yelped, but followed it down with another bounce of giggling.


    "Oooh, you''re hungry, huh? Yeah, it has been a bit since we''ve... You know...~ There are razors in here, I think; you want me to open a vein for you?" Purity''s eyes were glazed like a donut, all sugar and sweetness and sultry decadence; Esper James, by contrast, was now trying to look serious. However, that word... trying? It was doing a lot of work. Finally, however, the blonde pulled her head back and away from Purity''s cleavage to form an answer without a pornstar''s bosom falling into her open mouth.


    "Purity. We''ve gotta talk. Let''s bathe; I''ll close the door, you get it running. We''ll talk once we''re in the water." Her brows had furrowed; her emerald greens were trying their best to be piercing and stern, but to Puri, they just came off as adorable. It didn''t help that EJ had finally begun to reciprocate their hug, now clinging with koala-esque determination to the other woman.


    The woman with the pink hair was taken aback. Despite how adorable Esper James looked, especially after her hair was all tousled from a night of good, comfortable sleep (sleep that she still smelled of), she was still unnervingly serious. Even a face full of Purity''s breasts hadn''t slowed the ghoulette''s roll, at least not in the way it often did - obstruction didn''t count, really. It wasn''t the same. Puri lowered herself a bit so that EJ might make landfall, bare soles touching cool tiles; as the meat eater went to close the door, Purity stammered out a slipshod response.


    "U-Uhhh... yeah! Yeah, sure, yeah, we can talk. Is it about Khetnep? Is it about La Scission? -er, that''s this place''s name..." The hair on the back of Purity''s neck would have been raised, if any hair was left there. She went quickly, awkwardly, to the tub, turning the valve and letting the water run. The door clicked as Esper James closed it; she didn''t lock it, because she wasn''t really opposed to the idea of being joined, but... closed felt right. It felt like what she should do.


    The blonde turned slowly, crossing her arms as she did, finishing the play-by-play rotation by leaning back against the door. She looked at Purity for a few moments before responding - her expression wasn''t so stern now, but neither was it joyful, or playful, or even pleased. It was a bit terse, honestly, and the way her lips were screwed up into this expression of awkward discomfort felt like a dagger between Puri''s ribs.


    "No. It''s about us. About you, specifically. And, I wanted to have this conversation away from Esthrielle - because it can be just between us, if you want it that way. But we''ve gotta have the conversation either way." EJ pulled air into dead lungs, freeing them as a sigh of utmost resignation; Purity felt a cold sweat break out, despite the room''s rapidly ascending temperature. The club darling''s gaze flicked away as soon as it met EJ''s own, ill at ease with every conceivable avenue that this could be going down. She tried to smile - the waver of her lips betrayed that creeping dread threatening to encircle her heart.


    There was silence, then, outside of the vent in the ceiling and the rush of perfectly heated liquid. The tension in the air was so thick, you couldn''t cut it with a knife - it was far too dense. One would have needed a chainsaw. Thankfully, however, Esper James''s maw was sorta close to a chainsaw - if gnawing on something could be considered even vaguely close to a chainsaw''s mode of operation. It was close enough in this case, though.


    As the tub filled, and Purity shut the valve, EJ spoke up. Her tone was leaden; there was unspoken turmoil hiding just behind her shocking green eyes, and a reluctant weight to every syllable she uttered. "Purity. I... I have some serious questions. Questions about you, and about your... your time with Tsang. Specifically, what they did to you - and if you''re keeping anything from me, and Est, and the nuns." As Purity processed the gravity of these statements, Esper James began to strip down, leaving her panties (still no bra; the nuns hadn''t seemed to mind, and so she hadn''t either) on the floor. Purity scrambled to get into the water first, so as to not make Esper James feel even more awkward about all this - and she nearly slipped in doing so, half-falling into the steaming bathtub with a comical splash.


    EJ didn''t even crack a smile at the display. That felt worse than death to Purity.


    The deathless followed the death-destined into the tub, stepping deliberately and precisely to contrast Purity''s own hurried fumble. In a surprising display of beneficence, she took a seat directly in Purity''s lap, eliciting a relieved sigh from the other woman, who gently put her arms about her petite lover''s middle. They sat like that for a while, letting themselves soak up the heat of the water and reacquaint themselves with the feeling of one another''s skin. It was a calming prelude for the coming storm.


    "Purity. What are you?"


    Those words hung in the air like a death row convict, swaying side to side in a nonexistent breeze. In sharp contrast to the heat of the bathwater, Purity''s body felt like her bones were made of solid ice. She took her time in replying, working over the question in her mind; she wasn''t immediately sure how to respond, because she wasn''t really sure what EJ meant. However, just as she was opening her mouth to try and proffer an answer, Esper James spoke again.


    "You always smell like perfume, even though you haven''t touched a bottle in two weeks. It''s almost Christmas - only a few days, less than a week. And yet, you still smell fruity and sexy and gay. Your tongue tastes like candy, but when I pull away, you have an undertone of diesel on your spit and breath. Your skin is perpetually soft, which I get is a thing Tsang can do..." EJ took a deep breath in, steeling herself for the continuation of this list of evidence. She felt like a detective in one of the shows she used to watch; it wasn''t a good feeling, it felt awful, but it had to be done. She pushed past the knot forming in her alkahest-filled gut and kept the list of evidence flowing, shutting her eyes tight to focus on what she needed to do.Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    "...but also, even your voice is off. It''s so fucking lovely. So fucking hot. Constantly. Even when you''re at your lowest, when you''re bawling your guts out, or scared to the fucking core of your being, or fresh out of sleep and still dazed... Even hearing you fucking breathe can get me feeling weird and horny. That''s not normal - so, I''ll say it again: what are you?" The silence now was less oppressive, but where oppression was absent, violence was in profusion. EJ had really backed Purity against a figurative wall, here, and there was no way she was gonna let it go.


    Or was she? Purity''s brain was in panic mode now, frantically poring over any details she may have overlooked; any breaks in her facade that may have been unnoticed, any possible ways that Esper James could keep her from wiggling out of this. Old ways and old habits were even harder to kill than the second-living, it seemed: her right hand relieved itself of EJ''s midsection, slipping down to take a tender hold of the interrogator''s intimates. Her left hand went up to EJ''s chest, gingerly palming her breast; meanwhile, Purity leaned down to give her ghoulfriend a long, firm kiss on the neck.


    "Mmmnh... EJ, so sweet of you to say that~ You like my scent that much, eh? And my voice gets you horny? Fuck, here I thought you were mad at me... Look, babe, if you wanna role play, just tell me first... I-" EJ''s own hands went up to take Purity''s and pull them away, the strength of the dead easily overpowering the living. Purity didn''t really try to resist it; it would be more suspicious if she had, after all. Instead, the pinkette felt a shudder roll down her spine as she realized she was fucked.


    "No, Purity - none of that. No getting out of this by getting me horny, not again. You already did that the last time I started to notice something weird. This time? I''m not letting you go without an answer." EJ didn''t turn her head back to Puri as she spoke, but the corporate courtesan felt every word like a hammer blow. In an instant, tears threatened her eyes - but she didn''t cry, forced herself not to, screamed at herself within the confines of her mind. She couldn''t keep this up anymore. The act wasn''t worth ruining whatever she had with EJ and Est; it wasn''t worth this little pocket of happiness collapsing on itself. She sighed, eyes closing, head leaning back against the bathroom wall.


    Outside the bathroom, sleep still held all three Waywards in its sway. It was so still out there, so devoid of sound and movement that EJ nearly forgot there even existed a bedroom at all - with barely any real blood to listen to, ghoulish senses could barely perceive the odd pneumatic hiss of readjusting internals. It was just her, and Purity, and the fuck-off sized issue they had to tackle. For better, or for worse.


    Purity, eventually, began to speak. Her lips trembled as she spoke, and for the first time, her voice - wavering like a reed in a tropic storm - held no bassy, husky undertone. It wasn''t as seductive, wasn''t as hypnotic, wasn''t as... wasn''t as charged. It was the voice of a scared, hurt, desperate woman, one who was pleading with the executioner to spare her from the guillotine.


    "I''m... I-I... Phew... EJ. When Tsang took me, and put me i-in that... in that lab, I was down there with the expies. I was near where they did all the testing, all of it, and... and I was fresh meat, with no legal paper trail to tie me to anything or anyone in the city. I was fair game for whatever they wanted." Now the tears came, hot as sin and burning like Hell, running fast and free down her cheeks to drip-drop-drip into the waters below. Her grip on EJ had, unconsciously, become vice-like in its intensity. With silence entreating her encore, she continued.


    "Tsang is a biotech company at its core, yeah? L-Like, they invented the process of revival. They made the cold-wombs. They made you, and they - sort of - made me. But... But they''re limited, yeah? L-Limited to the second-living. Limited to what they can do to a person, because most of what they can do... they can only do to someone who''s already died once." A hard swallow followed this; for Purity, gulping down the pain of admission was worse than forcing a burning coal down her throat. This hurt nearly as badly as telling EJ about everything else, the ''work'' Tsang had forced her to perform; that, at least, had given her the mercy of necessity. This was not so gracious.


    EJ listened intently, unmoving but not uncaring. It tugged at her heart strings to hear Purity so choked up... but she couldn''t relent. She couldn''t let Purity stop her recollection; this was important, god fucking damn it, and if she backed down now? She wouldn''t ever have a spine. She''d never be able to stand up for herself, or Est, or even for Purity; if she let this all slip, then she''d be resigned to act as a perpetual doormat. EJ was fucking done being a doormat.


    Purity kept the reverie going, her eyes pressed shut to keep the tears from welling. "S-So they experimented with people. Living, breathing people. People like... p-people like me. They were - might still be, but I don''t fucking know nowadays - they were performing second-living operations and transfusions on first-living people. I''ve..."


    A wry smile came now, eyes opening up once again, though their gaze was misty and locked on the void-coloured ceiling. Her voice came through ragged, now, seconds away from falling to the forces of sorrow which assailed her. She wished, subconsciously, that she could press EJ hard enough into herself that they''d never be apart. She hated the idea of a world without EJ... Hated the idea of EJ leaving her, or being taken from her. She hated it more than she hated herself for keeping this buried for so long. Why had she been so reluctant to tell EJ in the first place?


    Judas. It all came back to Judas, in the end. She had always told herself that, if they were caught, Purity could give herself up as a martyr - she could go back to Judas''s little experiment, and be a good dog, and spare her lovers as much punishment as she could. But now, with EJ''s bounty, why did it even matter? She wasn''t worth that much money. She probably wasn''t worth anything to Tsang anymore - not now that she had tasted freedom, and found it sweet.


    "I''ve got vampire bits in me. Ripped out of a va- fuck, fuck it, fuck it! Ripped out of Judas her-fucking-self! Stupid arrogant self-centred bitch put vampire parts in me!" If she wasn''t in a bath right now, she''d have taken her hands away from EJ and slammed them against the nearest surface. Rage bubbled in her core alongside the sorrow, eager to erupt in a way that would put Yellowstone to shame. "That''s... That''s why I can get by on the same diet you do! That''s why I can talk like her, and do the stupid fucking vampiric mind control thing! Experimental stuff, too - altered vampire sweat glands to make me smell good! Aphrodisiac in my s-spit! I''m...!"


    She grit her teeth so hard that, somewhere in her furious grey matter, she feared that they may break. A scream ruptured her monologue, pushed through those perfect pearly whites, frustration and despair and anger and absolute depression all commingling into a single release. The words were coming of their own volition, now; her mind was freed of its previous tether, now that she was finally letting this all out. It only made her cry harder when she stumbled onto the real reason - the reason she wouldn''t even admit to herself - that she had held it all in.


    "I...! I thought you''d fucking leave me, okay?! I thought you''d... Y-You''d think that your attraction to me was all fake, that it was all mind games! That all I had ever done was play you! I swear, I n-never thought of you like that - like someone to use, to manipulate for my own gain! I..." And just like that, fury''s battery was drained of all its juice. Every ounce of rage left her through the stinging salt-stream that ran down her cheeks, and Purity collapsed against Esper James. Her body began to shake from the sobs, quivering with anguish between each tormented heave.


    EJ... was silent. Stunned. Speechless. She had nothing to respond with; nothing in the world could have prepared for all this, and while she wasn''t entirely shocked by the fact Tsang would experiment on the first-living and try to expand their repertoire... to know Purity was, apparently, part vampire? Part Judas? It was fucked. It was so fucked. And that was putting it lightly.


    Still... Purity was Purity, right? She had been with EJ through everything - through living in a fucking run-down factory, through killing a man, through the convent... She had been there for EJ every step of the way. And when Esper James looked back at it - even at their mundane dates, those sweet moments of domestic joy at one or the other''s apartments - she would have done it all the same, with or without vampiric persuasion. Even if Purity had been completely unaltered, Esper James knew she would have loved the moments she had loved, and hated the ones she had hated.


    As Purity cried, Esper James turned (slowly but surely) around, contorting so that her legs didn''t hurt Purity as she did. Once she was now facing her loyal lover, the blonde leaned down, ear set to rest against bare flesh as close to Purity''s heart as it could. Esper James''s arms went out and around the other woman, holding her with the same force she was being held with in turn; she didn''t even think of breaking this embrace, even as seconds turned to minutes, and minutes broke an hour.


    Finally... Finally, after countless moments lost like tears in rain, Purity had calmed down to a few whimpers and the occasional sob every so often. Esper James waited a bit longer still, ensuring Purity was present enough to hear what she was about to say; once the pinkette''s head pulled away from the wall, looking blearily out at the mirror reflecting the pair of them, EJ saw fit to speak.


    "Purity. Thank you. Thank you, for telling me... for being honest with me. Thank you for not fighting me on this, and opening up about it. I... I know it''s hard. It''s so fucking hard. Talking about... about traumatic shit like this, I... I can''t even imagine what it feels like for you, and I''m sorry I can''t offer anything more than these words." She moved her own head back, then, to look up at her lover; Purity responded in kind, looking down to meet the ghoul''s eyes with her own watery look.


    Esper James took another deep breath, steeling herself for the second time this evening. What came next was easy, or so she hoped; it was what she had to say, and what she truly felt. Still, though, the words felt like lead blocks being pushed out by her tongue - and even once each block was set free to cascade from her lips, she could still feel its weight.


    "I love you. I will always love you. Even if... Even if you''ve got vampire parts. Even if you can do vampire stuff. You''re still, and always will be, Purity to me. You''ll never stop being Purity - Purity Alouise Francharde, my girlfriend and my beloved. No matter what awful shit Tsang did to you, or may do to us, you will always be my lover. I will always love you."


    The tears returned with redoubled force - and this time, both parties cried. They cried, and held one another, and lamented - secretly, in their hearts, though in unison - the world they lived in. Theirs was a horrid lot in life, they both figured. But... at least they had one another.


    After some time, they broke apart and agreed to wash up. Purity was getting pruny, EJ was feeling lightheaded from the heat, and they both wanted to go back into the bedroom to snuggle Esthrielle. And so, helping one another the entire time, they finished up what was only ever supposed to be a quick bath. Neither woman wanted to get dressed again - there were clothes in the room, fetish costumes though they may be, and both ladies were fed up with wearing the exact same street clothes for days on end. Hell, EJ even suggested that maybe they could nab Est for a quickie. That might be just what the doctor ordered, to try and cheer them all up... let the two nuns take a bath together, and the triad could screw in the main room. That might be nice.


    Neither party was expecting the Waywards to be standing there when EJ opened the door, each of them bearing a somber face. Esthrielle rushed Purity before any words could be spoken; Lulu and Zofi hustled to slip into the bathroom, ushering EJ out in an instant before slamming and locking the door. Esper James was stunned into silence; Purity looked like she was about to go catatonic, or start crying again. Esthrielle simply squeezed her, holding her so close she could feel the taller woman''s heartbeat.


    "I love you, Purity. I couldn''t help but hear. I''m... I''m sorry. I love you."

 Act Five (Ch. 96) - 22nd Century Cure; or, Diminutive Dominance

    Lulu and Zofi made themselves comfortable (or something close to it) in the bathroom. There was a gasp as the Pole found the box of condoms, and a giggle from Lulu at her counterpart''s presumed embarrassment; otherwise, they slipped obediently into silence. There was no desire to interrupt whatever came next for the women in the main room, or anything close to it.


    Purity wobbled on her feet, held steady only through virtue of Esper James'' and Esthrielle''s combined efforts. In silent agreement, the two smaller girls wobbled their tall and toddling third over to the edge of the bed - where they pushed her forth, letting her collapse through her own weight atop the silken comforter. Purity hit the bed with a whud, not even raising her arms to protect herself as she crumbled like a block tower. The lodestones of her many myriad deceptions were cast out one-by-one in her mind, and even as her spirit lightened, her body fell.


    Of course, to EJ and Est, it just looked like Purity had allowed gravity to do its grim work. ''Grim'' in the sense that Puri''s fantastic rack was now concealed by the bulk of her torso; thankfully, her phenomenal ass was every bit as exposed as her chest was not. EJ''s hand was only barely held back from offering it a playful slap.


    Esthrielle drew in air to fill her lungs, then rolling said air out in a ''what now?'' sort of sigh. She looked over to EJ, brow raised and lips quirked; when the blonde turned to catch her partner''s gaze, the Wayward gestured to Purity. "You two were... Ah, ahaha, uh... You pitched the idea of a quickie? Something to cheer us all up, yeah?" Thin lips pulled back to reveal gleaming steel, an expression of resigned awkwardness replaced now with subtle, below-the-surface mischief. EJ returned the look, flashing bone to match her lover''s metal.


    "Hmm-mm-mm... Yeah, I did suggest maybe a little, heh... A little fun. All three of us. And, you know..." Esper James turned her gaze back down to Purity, smile growing wider even as her pointed tongue ran along the top row of bestial fangs. "I think, if Purity''s still game... Well, she''s always the one doing the pampering, right? Maybe it''s time we return the favor...~"


    This time, EJ did land her palm across Purity''s backside, a crisp snap ringing out as flesh touched flesh. Purity, finally, was broken from her catatonia - at least, from the inaction it forced upon her. She made little noise but a short, quick gasp, the sharp intake like an auditory dagger cutting through her silence. Her hands pushed into the mattress so she might lift her torso, turning at the waist and neck to set her sights upon the source of the offending strike. There was a moment of silence as the two regarded one another... and then Purity''s placid mask was broken, and she gave a playful grin.


    "Oh~? My girls... My lovely, beautiful, incomparable, amazing lovers... Are gonna take the reigns on this one? Let me be a little pillow princess, who does as she''s told and gets rewarded for her obedience? Oh, my, oh my..." A pantomimed swoon played into her false bout of fainting, her whole body turning over on the bed. Chest revealed, butt hidden - less popular to bestow with slaps, but now, kisses were far more viable.


    EJ cast a glance in Esthrielle''s direction, raising one golden arch to match her expression of inquiry. Est, in return... shrugged. Unhelpful, Est! However, the grin that remained across her lips told everything the blonde needed to know. And honestly, Esper James thought to herself as she stepped closer to Est? Honestly? Est could be a pillow princess today, too. Fuck it. Esper James never got to lead the way with this sort of stuff - she rarely got to lead the way ever. So now, with the way paved in gold and the engines beginning to rev, it was her turn to be in charge.


    Est''s expression began to shift from excitement to curiosity at the ghoul''s approach, but curiosity became a cowed sort of surprise as EJ took a hold of the Wayward''s bra - right in the center, which EJ hoped would have the same effect as grabbing her by the collar of her shirt. The blonde raised herself up on the balls of her feet, getting inches away from her prey''s face, emboldened by Est''s sudden fawn response.


    "Take this shit off, you little synthetic slut. Take it off, get on the bed next to Purity, and try not to bite the pillow hard enough to tear it. The only thing getting fucked up today is you two, not the furniture. Got it?" Adrenaline, now. Esper James could feel it pumping through her like a sweet, sickening drug - the way Est''s lower lip trembled, the doeish look in her eyes that sat somewhere between lust and fear, the silence in the room as Esper James laid out her commands? EJ almost hated that she understood it now; that horrible, addictive feeling of telling someone what to do. It was so very almost-awful...


    Almost.


    Esthrielle was stunned into absolute silence, eyes wide and pupils locked on EJ''s own. Purity was smiling in a delighted flavor of surprise - it was like a birthday and Christmas all at once for the still-living seductress. EJ looked, for one of those rare moments like the flare of a firework, confident. Powerful. In control. And, well, Purity couldn''t deny that there was something undeniably sexy about the demure dame''s spontaneous shift. She couldn''t help but giggle as she looked down, realizing just how good this was for her ghoulfriend.


    Est''s lower lip wobbled like she was made of gelatin, its owner struggling to find the words to form a response. Tick-tock, Est - your time''s up. The ghoulette''s getting impatient... and she''s taking cues from the smut she''s read online, and her experience with Judas. EJ formed a half-scowl, the excitement in her breast and in her loins still far too present to truly get a good display of false anger going. "I said: Got it?!"


    She nearly slapped Est to really sell it, to truly drive the point home... but as her free hand began to raise, she thought better of the gesture. It was her first time acting like this, and the other two knew she was normally quite the pushover. She didn''t want to go too far on her first try of a more dominant role, and turn her lovely ladies away from her.


    Esthrielle began to nod rapidly, prosthetic fingers working double time to undo her bra and strip out of her panties - both were dropped to the floor and left to rest where they landed. She rushed to take up a position beside Purity, daring not to look back as she laid awkwardly on her tummy. She stayed like that, stock still and body stiff, until she felt Purity rest a gentle hand on her tailbone. She pinkette had rolled over to mimic Esthrielle''s stance, her gaze gentle and smile caring.


    "Oh-h-h, Est, baby girl... You''ve never been on all fours like this, have you? Here. Let mommy Purity help you - it''ll be better for you, and for her, like this... Now, raise your ass, and put your cheek to the bedspread..." Purity began to get even more hands-on with her bedside beauty, taking a tender grip of Esthrielle''s hips and raising them up. Est was quick to acquiesce to Purity''s professional advice, adjusting her body to her right cheek was pressed into the silken sheets - this way, she could still face Purity. The semi-vampire didn''t mind at all; if anything, it''d be more fun, getting to watch Esthrielle''s reactions.


    EJ, meanwhile, had decided to raid the dresser. Condoms? Nope, didn''t need those (and weren''t there some in the bathroom, too?). Lubricant? EJ was still pretty new to this ''sex'' thing, all things considered, but... Browsing the internet had taught her that when it came to lube, the best practice was ''no such thing as too much''. The bottle of cherry-scented liquid was tossed over her back, landing somewhere near the foot of the bed. What next?


    Nun costume? Ew, she''d had enough of nuns for a while. Maid dress? She briefly considered using the handle of the accompanying feather duster as a prop... but no, no, that wouldn''t fit the mood. Plus, she was a bit distrustful of the cleanliness of anything with potential to have been inside a stranger''s orifices. Nope to the maid costume, then! Beneath the maid outfit sat a little thorn, planted just to try and ruin her mood: a full suit with tie and undershirt, with the Tsang Solutions blood-red TS monogrammed onto the left lapel.


    Esper James didn''t let it slow her down, though - the thoughts of Tsang, of Judas, of her quiet life as a secretary were all suppressed. She blocked them out like an ascetic blocks out material desires, condemning them to the darkest, most secretive nooks and niches of her brain, so they wouldn''t interrupt her. She wouldn''t let that fucking shithole company and its evils tarnish what was about to be a fun, exciting, breathtaking bit of play.


    She crinkled the suit before moving it aside - and her eyes fell upon the real treasure of her spelunking venture: smooth black stockings, matching gloves, panties of the same material with the crotch missing (but a cute little scarlet heart emblazoned just above the cut-out). Pulling them out, there was a split-second of downheartedness as she realized they were way too big for her. Of course they wouldn''t have anything her size... this was the room Purity had been staying in during her tenure with Khetnep. Nothing would be sized for a 5''4 ghoul with a slender build and -


    Oh, fuck. That''s right - this was Purity''s room. They''d fit her for-fucking-sure.


    Esper James held back a giddy bout of giggling as she whirled around, discarding the notion of a costume sized for her even as she was enticed by the prospect of dressing Purity up. Her subtly sanguine sexpot of a girlfriend had finished with giving Est a helping hand: both women were now face-down, ass-up, facing one another. Purity swayed her hips back and forth, offering a juicy target for both EJ''s pelvis and her fangs, but that could wait. It''d have to wait.The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    There was a soft slap at Esper James tossed the assembled latex lingerie onto Purity, taking up a hands-on-hips pose as her target turned her head back to face the blonde. Meeting Purity''s eyes with her own, EJ gestured imperiously to the heap of light-catching latex, raising her nose to look down it at her partner.


    "C''mon. Put it on - dress up for me, doll. They fit you, I''m sure... and I wanna see some garnish with my meal, yeah?" It almost felt illegal to be this smug, and to feel justified in said smugness... but Purity''s giggle and nod, and the accompanying hustle to adorn herself, put EJ''s mind at ease. The tight-fitting apparel was hardly a quick thing to shimmy into, but Esper James found a new flavor of satisfaction in watching Purity pull it on - and then Est, too, once the Italian noticed Purity could appreciate the help.


    Now clad in snug ebon material up to mid-thigh and mid-bicep, her waist concealed but sex exposed, Purity reached back and gave her own ass a slap. It drew a twitch from EJ''s womanhood, especially in tandem with the damp that had begun to glisten on Purity and Est''s skin... and finally, she couldn''t stand sitting back and watching anymore. She had to satisfy humanity''s most incessant itch.


    She wished she had some more domme shit to say to really drive home what was about to happen, but as her feet bore her proudly (nearly arrogantly) over to the foot of the bed, she drew up a blank. Nothing her internet pornography had shown her seemed appropriate... ''Time to get dicked?'' No, that was terrible. ''I''m gonna bury myself so deep inside you that they''ll crown whoever pulls me out as the next king?'' Also awful, but at least that would be funny. ''Get ready to get bred?'' Wasn''t her style - and she was infertile, anyhow. The breeding angle didn''t seem very apt.


    It was Purity, then, who broke the silence - and who lit a fire in Esper James that seemed fit to roar out of her mouth, like a furnace set to blow. The most buxom of the three beauties let out a playful whine, biting her lower lip and making a pleading, pseudo-desperate expression. "Mistress? May I make one request? When you''re done with Esthrielle... would you let me clean you off, pretty-please? I wanna taste her...~"


    And just like that, Esper James felt more kinship with a wolf in heat than a human being. She couldn''t remember what she said, but she surely said something to the affirmative, given the reversal of her own former smugness on Purity''s own face. What she could remember, in the aftermath, was the way her body seemed to move on its own - carrying her across the plush carpet and up to Esthrielle, who immediately began to whimper. Come on, Est! EJ hasn''t even touched you yet! Don''t jump the gun!


    -


    The Easterner was close enough to the edge of the bed that Esper James could have stayed standing - if she was a little taller. Instead, however, she was forced by nature to mount the bed first and foremost - only then could she mount her lover. The bottle of cherry lubricant had found its way into her ghoulish grip somewhere during the lust-haze from her approach, and it was applied generously, and without delay.


    Gratuitously slick and reminiscent of a fresh-baked cherry pie, Est found something in Purity''s eyes: something to ground her, to hold onto like a life raft, the guilty excitement of relinquishing control causing a stormy sea of emotion to assault her heart. She trusted Esper James to be good to her, even with the act... and she trusted Purity to keep her safe and not lead her astray, regardless of anything else. Even still, she couldn''t help but grit her teeth and wince in preparation as she felt EJ''s weapon of choice press to her own.


    And then... The thrill of love, the warmth within and without as her heart and body were both filled. She cried out, clenching her left hand on itself - or, it would have been on itself, if Purity hadn''t taken her hand just as Esper James recoiled her hips. From then on, Esthrielle was floating down a warm and lazy river, feeling EJ lean down and press chest-to-back with her partially-prosthetic playmate.


    Motion was a virtue, but stillness was even more so. Mechanical joints allowed her to lock them in, now every bit a love doll for hers and EJ''s benefit in equal measure - and, though she''d never admit it, she felt fit to collapse after the first thirty or so seconds. It was so much different here and now than it had been back in the convent... back when she''d been in a more dominant position, when she''d had more control over what happened and how it happened. It had been comfortable, then, and fun - but this was something completely new, and the stimulus seemed to hit her with a force all its own.


    Purity, for her part, was watching Est''s face like a hawk - and putting everything she could into what little vampiric influence she held. Every last bit of psychic suggestion she could muster was directed straight at Esthrielle, driving her nerve endings into a desperate, needful overdrive, making every inhale shaky and every exhale a drawn-out, delicious whine. It wasn''t as powerful as a true vampire, sure, but... Well, with her guard down like this? It may as well have been full strength.


    As Esthrielle did her best not to melt into the mattress, Esper James allowed herself to be lost in the act. There was something primal, and ferocious, and feral about this time: their position, their surroundings, knowing that Lulu and Zofia were just through a thin door... A door that they had heard everything through, when Purity and EJ had been talking in the tub. Oh, god, they had heard everything. Surely, that meant...


    Another sick thrill traced from head to toe, rocketing down EJ''s spinal cord and into her lap like a live wire. Knowing that they very likely had an audience, and knowing who the audience was, was almost as good for her as Purity''s request. If she hadn''t already been dead-set on bucking her hips until her muscles gave out, she''d have resolved as much immediately. Hell, maybe if she could get Est to be loud enough, then maybe Lulu would say something to her afterwards. Being known as ''the girl who fucks real good'' would be way better than being ''the girl who cries all the time'', if nothing else.


    Thankfully for Esthrielle, Esper James didn''t quite go until her body gave out. Instead, as the ivory-haired girl''s body shook and quivered, spasming in indulgent satiation, EJ left her to her afterglow. She kept low, allowing Esthrielle to unlock her joints and collapse onto the bed in a panting, dazed mess; once the other woman was securely laid down on those soft silks, EJ crawled on all fours to swing round to Purity''s fore.


    Purity snickered with mischievous intent, eyes narrowing even as she turned her gaze upward to lock eyes with EJ. "Oh~? She looks like she had fun... You really fucked her into a puddle, Miss EJ. Is it my turn next~?" Smug satisfaction morphed into a playful pout, lips pursed and eyes pleading. The pout was broken, however, by a delighted gasp - drawn from her as EJ started to make good on Purity''s request.


    The blonde sat back and spread her legs, one on either side of Purity, her hands going to take her plaything by the back of the head. The ghoul sneered, as much to keep up appearances as to hide the fact that she was a bit winded from her time with Esthrielle. "Come on, then, bitch. You talked a big game about ''cleaning me off'', earlier. Don''t chicken out no- oh!"


    Needless to say, Purity wasted no time in doing as she was told, and as she had earlier promised. EJ was given time to really consider just how soft Purity was, how warm, how intoxicating... Even knowing that she was probably drugging her subliminally, EJ didn''t dare deny the warmth, and the wetness of it, and the warbling that bubbled up from her own throat as she fell down Purity''s.


    No release this time; no peak to plant a flag in. Purity left her stranded halfway up the mountain, every ounce of Esthrielle washed away by lips and tongue. EJ was released with a kiss, and a wink, and another one of those trademark coy little giggles. Purity left her lover to press against her left cheek, unattended for now. "Mmmh, she tastes so sweet... I wonder if she''s got an augment that does it, or if she''s all natural? Heheheh...~ Either way, Miss EJ, my strong and dominant ghoulfriend... Wanna fuck me now?"


    There was no need for a vocal answer, or a response at all - they both heard the unspoken ''yes'' on EJ''s panting lips. Off the bed, around to the edge she''d previously taken up residence at, then back up on the bed. Knees took their places, hands were in position, hips... Well, could they ever not be at the ready?


    The oral prelude had been exactly what Esper James needed to get her second wind, and at wind was more akin to a gale. Just as with Esthrielle, she pressed chest-to-back with Purity - though there was significantly more for her to become flush with, and Esper James couldn''t help but luxuriate in the fullness of her lover''s bounty.


    Whereas Esthrielle had quailed in relative expediency, Purity''s experience and training allowed her a fortitude that put Esper James to shame. The vigor of an amateur ghoul could never compare to that of a retired professional, and as Esper James felt her whole body begin to tremble from exertion and ecstasy, Purity reached up with a glove-clad hand to caress her partner''s cheek. "Hey, mistress... I think you could use a pick-me-up, yeah? It''s been a while since you''ve had any blood... Maybe you wanna bite me while you''re all the way? Hmm~? Drink a little straight from the tap?"


    Esper James'' head spun like a carnival ride. She nodded shakily, doing as she was told suggested to do, pressing forth just as she pressed her fangs into Purity''s shoulder. Below her, her mate let free a breathy yelp - in EJ''s mouth, the world''s finest poison flowed freely. Just as when she dined in the convent, she felt herself sink back into the depths of her own mind as her body took control away from her; unlike the convent, she didn''t overindulge.


    She simply drank, gulping down whatever came but never begging or pleading for more. Gulp after gulp of red filled her gullet as her hips did the work on her soul''s behalf, the mind of the inner thigh doing all her thinking for her. She began to lose track of time, not even noticing when Purity nudged her away, barely even parsing that, at some point, they both hit their climax - and then a second one, for good measure.


    Before the third time was made the charm, Purity nudged her away once again - hand on EJ''s chest, palm between her cleavage, Purity pushed. It wasn''t a hard push, but EJ got the message: two rounds back-to-back was more than enough, especially since Esthrielle was looking in need of a cuddle. Words unsaid were understood, and Esper James slipped back onto her feet, staying close to the bedside just in case her knees gave out.


    She felt... exhausted, and yet, full of life. Full of energy. Her mind was alive even as her body was dying of exhaustion; her only saving grace was Purity rolling aside, allowing the blonde an admittedly damp landing zone to collapse onto. Collapse she did: with barely a moment''s hesitation, she let herself fall forward to form one bun in their sapphic sandwich. Purity, perhaps fittingly, was the filling, and Esthrielle made up the other bun.


    EJ was reminded, then, in the still and the calm of shared breaths and snuggling, of Zofi and Lulu. How long had the three ladies been screwing for? Surely the nuns were tired of waiting... And they''d already seen all three of them nude, anyways. Fuck it.


    Esper James worked up what little strength her body still had, calling out with a restrained sort of volume, so as not to bother any potential clientele. "Lulu! Zofi! Y-You two can come on out now, aha... Hahaha...!"

 Act Five (Ch. 97) - Girl Poison; or, Contractual Obligation

    It took barely a second for the bathroom door to set into motion, swinging outward slowly but surely as it was opened. Holding the handle was, of course, Lucretia - her purple-black bob still damp and hanging low, devoid of the usual bounce and volume. Freed of the majority of her makeup, she somehow looked more naked than if she had been missing an outfit - her eyeliner and mascara, however, seemed completely intact.


    Zofia was huddled behind her, notably close though with eyes and face downcast. She looked up from the tiled floor to glance at the women laid atop the bed - and, seeing the remnants of heat, of damp, of lust, she quickly averted her gaze once again. Her cheeks bloomed with a rose red, though, and she didn''t shrink back like Esper James would have otherwise anticipated.


    What she did do, as it were, was put her arms about one of Lulu''s own - huddling close, pressing to the other woman for comfort and stability. Lulu allowed it without even blinking, no glance of acknowledgement in Zofia''s direction or any sound at all to imply awareness. The best Zofi would get was a slight shift in the field agent''s stance, body inched a bit closer to the second-living enthusiast. That seemed to be more than enough for Zofi, though - she huddled closer to her comrade, face lifting with the newfound strength of proximity.


    Both women were dressed, surprisingly; Lucretia had donned a maid''s uniform that had been among the bathroom paraphernalia, and Zofia had simply wriggled her way back into her own habit. There was, EJ thought to herself as she eyed up the bedroom and its inhabitants, something almost pornographic about all of this. Three women who had just indulged in the sins of the flesh, now laying atop their own mess while sweat wicked away in aphrodisiac-tinged air... and then, in come the maid and a wandering nun. There was a sick little flicker in the pilot light of Esper James''s chest as she admitted to herself that it was a video she''d likely watch.


    Lucretia had worn a trepidatious smirk when she first opened the door - now, of course, it blossomed into the wide smile of a hunting hound that had caught scent of juicy prey. She said nothing, but her violet eyes flitted from one bed-bound form to the other, silently indulging in the sheer gratuity of what lay before her. Her irises flickered in that telltale way, no longer afraid of comms being traced by the convent''s supervision. Eventually, however, she broke the silence.


    "Well, hahaha... You ladies look winded. Have fun~? Enjoy yourselves?" She gave a brief pause, ideally room for interjection - but when there was no immediate response, she barreled forth with more teasing. "You three gave Zofi and I quite the backdrop for our bath, eheheh... No, no, don''t be shy; don''t worry about it. I''ve seen enough in my life to know what it''s like, you know?"


    She let her eyes linger upon EJ''s own, offering her a playful, mischievous wink. Esper James, meanwhile, was trying to piece together whatever implications Lucretia was actually getting at with such a statement; coming up with naught but blanks, the ghoul simply giggled and winked back.


    Purity, meanwhile, shook free a breathy, haughty spate of laughter. Her whole body shook as she allowed herself some rare mirth, its owner propping herself up on an elbow to look to Lucretia and Zofi. "Oh? God, I don''t smoke but I feel like I need a fucking cigarette."


    She used her other hand to pantomime taking a drag off a cigarette, puffing the imaginary smoke into Esper James''s face. She turned back to Lulu, barely able to suppress her smile for the sake of the bit.


    "Was it as good for you as it was for me, babe?"


    With that, three of the five women fell about themselves with raucous cackling. Esthrielle, worn down as she was, also managed to snicker a bit - Zofi, too, at least cracked a smile. Any awkwardness that may have held them in sway was melting like the ice caps, and in short order, it had completely ceded its grip over the lot of them. Lucretia stepped into the bedroom proper, gently coaxing Zofi along as well; the two ladies went to the foot of the bed, each taking a seat (despite Zofia''s hesitation to do so).


    Lulu wasn''t anything close to ashamed of the situation - a fact made undeniably clear from the way she let her eyes roam over the performance''s full cast, from head to toe to everything in between. There was a lascivious licking of the lips, before she put a hand out to rest upon EJ''s left thigh, not minding nor avoiding the borrowed slickness that adorned it.


    "So, girlies... Living, ghouls, and augmented fools. These seem our living arrangements for... the foreseeable future, really, yeah? So Zofi and I had some ground rules we''d like to discuss. No, no, don''t - don''t get up, don''t get uncomfy. You''ll like them, we''re sure; don''t let us ruin your afterglow." She winked again at Esper James, before lifting her hand from the blonde''s thigh and using it to push her back onto the bed. She didn''t even get a chance to do so to Purity - the pinkette was happy to comply, laying back with her hands behind her head as a makeshift pillow.


    "So, first." Lulu drew in a deep breath; she was still smiling, however, which set the others back at ease. She and her Polish pal shared a look, and then, the Wayward socialite began again. "First off, this? Sex? We don''t care. Maybe it''s the air - toxin sensors have been blaring ever since we walked in, but I figured I wouldn''t mention anything because Purity seems fine - but... Well..."


    She turned once more to Zofia, offering her a chance to pitch in. The timid woman nodded, swallowing hard before taking center stage. "Lulu and I... We never really bought the full ''nun'' shtick. All the sexual p-purity and abstinence stuff... we came from pretty liberated lives, you know? Sex isn''t a scary, or taboo, thing."


    It was only a moment after Zofia finished her sentence that Lucretia hopped back in once more, having been chomping at the bit to do so.


    "Furthermore on that? We don''t care about when, and where, and how, and whatever. So long as, like... Y''know, you don''t get anything in our hair, haha!" Once again, gumdrops on a piano''s keys - light and sweet and twinkling. However, this time, the piano was played for the benefit of a cabaret: full of subtle seduction and sensual tones, laying just below the surface. "So. If you three are cool with it, we''re cool with it; we''re gonna be living in a fucking brothel that pumps aphrodisiac into the air, for a while. Better to be pretty normal about shit like this."


    That made a degree of sense, Esper James figured - if they were all doped up on aphrodisiac 24/7, and were perpetually surrounded by sex and sexuality, a little bump-and-grind would begin to feel mundane. She wasn''t sure how it''d work in practice, but... well, it was good to know that it wasn''t going to be an awkward event of sending Lulu and Zofi to the bathroom any time she or her lovers wanted a little physical love.


    Purity''s grin only widened at this supposed ground rule, though she didn''t dare laugh - for her, this was an interesting, enticing new factor to their cohabitation. Velvet lips parted to offer up a response - the only verbal one that the former nuns would receive. "Okay... Yeah, works for me. I''ve always thought it might be fun to have a proper audience - not through a screen or video camera, but in the same space. Next ground rule?"


    This seemed to be exactly what Lucretia wanted to hear, given the way the corners of her eyes crinkled, expression now flavored with a distinct devilish nature. "Okay! So! Rule two: we''re gonna need some stuff, yeah? I''m sure you know how to get your hands on most of it - and the stuff you can''t get yourself, Khetnep can surely get for us, right?"


    The questioning tone of that last bit was more a formality than a genuine inquiry. She paused, waiting for any objection - and when there was none, she continued.


    "First? Nutrient pills. I don''t mind a carnivorous diet - we can get a lot out of whatever we eat, and our bodies need less than fully organic ones - but it''ll set our minds at ease. Secondly? Real clothes. Don''t get me wrong, I kinda love the energy of bopping around dressed as a fuck-maid all day every day, but... well, sometimes I like pants, you know?" Reasonable requests so far, though Esper James wasn''t the one who was being asked to approve.


    Purity nodded, echoing EJ''s thoughts. Daily multivitamins were fucking ubiquitous in Vitus, as it were, and clothes weren''t hard to find either. Now, however, Purity was waiting for the second foot to drop - there was something much more intense coming, she was sure. Oh, how correct she was.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    "Next," continued Lulu, "I''d like some drugs. I don''t really care what kind - but drugs, and alcohol, and maybe even smokes. My lungs and throat and oral cavity are full-replacement to make Vitus living easier, and they''re fucking expensive. I can still get something out of substance abuse, but I''m not really at risk of overdose, or cancer, or any of that nasty shit. So, why not taste what life has to offer?"


    This one made Esper James''s eyes pop - she turned quickly to Purity to see if the shocked sentiment was shared, but was further surprised to see the pink-haired princess nodding along. Purity snickered, raising a hand to make a devil horns gesture. "Fu-u-uck yeah, sis. No, I feel that completely - besides, I think a little blow might help the days go by, lift our spirits. Not a lot we can smoke in here, but I can take you out to the alleyway to light up if you find you like it. We can all go as a group, like we''re on vacation!"


    What an interpretation that was, eh? That this should be considered anything even close to a vacation was... Well, actually... Huh. The more Esper James considered it, from the silken sheets she was resting upon to the expenses-paid nature to the oncoming inundation of indulgence, it... It kinda was like a vacation. A vacation where assassins were looking to catch you and kill or kidnap you, yeah, but that was still a vacation.


    Hell, it was the closest thing EJ had had to a proper vacation in thirty years. She''d take it, and she''d believe it wholeheartedly, even if she had to fucking force herself to think of it that way. A vacation with her girlfriends, and her girl friends, and all her needs met and essentials taken care of... That would be nice, right? It had to be nice. She''d gaslight herself into believing it was nice if she damn well had to.


    Lucretia continued as Purity''s words set in. Apparently, the Wayward woman was far from finished with her demands. They had been easy enough so far, at least - but they were ramping up, right? Right.


    "Next? EJ needs to drink blood, right? To keep herself from getting feral and weird? And, she drinks from you two... to get it humanely, and without the temptation of actually outright eating anyone." As Lucretia laid out these truths, the last one sent a chill sliver into the meat of EJ''s grey matter. It reminded her, starkly and without invitation, of a dream she''d had - the dream in the abattoir, the one with the unknown flesh and the pink haired human-not-human, and the words she had felt but never heard.


    Earlier, Lucretia had said something about ''not wanting to ruin their afterglow'', and while she had actively avoided it? This little dagger of jagged ice was enough to yuck EJ''s yums considerably. She''d never told Purity about the dream, of course - Purity probably thought of the time EJ had bitten her shoulder, prompted by Judas''s cat appearing. Esper James began to feel herself sinking down a notably dark and dismal hole, but held herself back - she took a deep breath, shut her eyes to focus, and drove away that line of introspection. Now was not the time.


    "So. Zofia is... Well, heheh, she''s interested in getting a chance to watch, you know? Maybe help out... Maybe even let EJ drink a bit out of her, yeah? Hell, might be a little fucked up, but even I''ve still got some real blood left. That gives me a really fun idea, but... Well, I''ll save it for another night. Anyways - thoughts about EJ''s diet expanding a smidge?" Lucretia winked at Purity this time, not even looking to EJ for approval.


    Purity nodded casually, then using her free hand to gesture to the still-face-down Esthrielle. "I mean, I''m fine with it... but Est''s EJ''s girlfriend, too, and I won''t say yes if she doesn''t. This is either unanimous or no dice."


    There was silence, then, as all in attendance waited for Esthrielle to offer her thoughts. Esper James briefly considered saving herself from indignation, piping up her own opinion in spite of it having not been asked for - and yet, when she thought of drinking from Lucretia or Zofia? Well, she couldn''t exactly say they were wrong in assuming she''d agree.


    Est grumbled, both arms going out from her sides to push herself into a crescent shape, torso bent at the waist to arc upwards. "Hmeh. Hmm? Why - ohhh, ohhh. I get it. Some people might see it as a sex thing... A-And, uh... It... It is pretty intimate, having another person drink from you like a running tap..."


    Esthrielle allowed herself a rare blush as she turned to address the others, looking now as though she''d awoken from a wet dream.


    "Uhh... y-yeah. Yeah, I think that would be fine. I trust you all not to be weird about it - and even if you want to get weird about it, I wouldn''t mind working something out. S''like you said, Lulu - we''re in a veritable sex castle where they pump horny drugs in through the vents and pleasure by the pound. If we''re on vacation, might as well have some fun, right?"


    She offered the best smile she could, through her slowly-fading exhaustion. Her answer was good, though - good in that it appeased the nuns, and in that it set Esper James''s heart at ease once more. She didn''t exactly have any plans to get any sort of way with Lucretia or Zofia - hell, they seemed more interested in one another than in EJ and her lovers - but it was good to set the precedent. Good to set up boundaries.


    Everyone seemed happy with that answer. Now, however, Lucretia looked once more to Zofi - a gentle nudge indicated that it was the ghoul wannabe''s turn to speak. Zofi cleared her throat, steeling herself for something, and then began. "Alright. Final request. This one is important, though. We... Eugh, how do I say it aloud... We..."


    She swallowed hard, then forced the words up and out even though they were reluctant to come. "We want something to do. Something, anything. A game system with games. A personal computer. The streaming service here... will be great, but, we want something more active. And it doesn''t have to be those. Frankly, we''d... W-We''d both really love it if you could find a way for Khetnep to get us jobs. We''d both make excellent bouncers - Lulu would be a great dancer too..."


    As she trailed away, her eyes couldn''t help themselves but give Lucretia a once-over. In response, the black-and-purple beauty blew her admirer a kiss - much to the shock of the latter lady, but not to her dismay. Zofi began to stammer as she fought with her own tongue to produce a response or an excuse; however, it wasn''t important to anyone else that she actually offer one up.


    Purity''s eyebrows raised at the ending bit, the bit about a job from Khetnep. Her smile faded to contemplative placidity; after a few tense moments interspersed with nervous babbling, she found a fitting return to Zofia''s serve. "Yeah, I think that''ll be doable. I can put in a good word with Khetnep if you two really want... Y''know, I''m really starting to feel like you two didn''t really emphasize enough the kind of women you were before becoming Knights. But, hey, I''m not judging - if anything, it makes you more fun and exciting."


    This was exactly what the Waywards were hoping to hear, with the bonus seasoning that Purity thought their air of mystery was exciting. However, Purity had more to say - and her tone turned towards concern, all stern steel core and sharpened edges.


    "But. I oughta'' warn you two. Khetnep? She''s... She''s not a woman to fuck around with. She and her goons hijacked a freighter and used it to sail from the South all the way to the West, just so they could be second-living and avoid the PADE. The crew? She ate them, to celebrate her newfound chance at second-life." Purity let her words sink in for a moment, only then offering a bit of a rise to the fallen mood. "At least, so she says."


    "But, she''s run this little empire of hers for almost seventy years, and she eats up the blood, sweat, tears, and fresh meat of Vitus like a voracious predator. I''ve seen girls and boys alike put through the wringer in this building alone, much less her other... ''business ventures''. Sometimes, she does it just for fun." Purity was serious as a heart attack, fixing Lulu with a gaze of frigid solemnity; the gaze drifted to Zofi after a few seconds, but the brunette averted her eyes.


    "Don''t let her fuck you over. Read every contract thrice. Always second-guess what she might have you do. I don''t wanna see you two turning tricks on a dirty mattress in some dingy backroom just because you felt like you had to contribute, okay? Khetnep knows me - she trusts me, and she likes me. I can get us through this alone, if it comes down to it." Purity adjusted her position to sit up fully now, arms crossed below her breasts to give them a shelf to rest upon.


    EJ wondered, silently, if anyone else thought the room had suddenly become a little chilly. Regardless of the potentially metaphysical chill, however, Lucretia nodded her affirmation with all the confidence and surety of a professional gambler. "We thank you for the warning - but still, we wanna help out, however we can. And who knows? Maybe I''d like turning tricks on a dirty mattress - only if there''s a camera and a tripod too, of course." A final wink, cast Purity''s way - and the buxom beauty let a smile crack her stoic face, her head shaking back and forth.


    "Okay, slut. I''ll keep that in mind."

 Act Five (Ch. 98) - Tis the Season; Or, Choke It Down

    The mood had settled into one of comforting acceptance of one another. The television was set to play popular movies at the whim of the streaming service''s recommendations - thankfully, Purity''s taste in media was great, at least as far as her fellows were concerned. Action, romance, drama... Zofia was eating it up like a buffet, sitting on the edge of the great re-made bed (fixed at Purity''s behest), chin in her hands; Esthrielle had joined her once she had re-donned her pants, though she remained devoid of shirt or bra.


    Lulu and Purity, meanwhile, were in the bathroom. Door open, the two women were exchanging tips and tricks for makeup application - using the great wealth of cosmetics within the bathroom''s many cupboards and drawers to doll themselves up if only for the pleasure of doing so. Eventually, they shifted towards doing one another''s makeup, rather than their own, leading to Purity resembling a neo-goth darling and Lulu taking a pretty-in-pink aesthetic.


    There was something wholesome about it, Esper James thought; something comfortable and cozy and heartwarming about the four others all finding mundane, unassuming ways to coexist and enjoy shared company. No worry of subterfuge, or sabotage, or violence enacted upon them... simply the kind warmth of leisure, and interests shared. There was something almost familial about it all, in the blonde''s mind.


    Familial... That got EJ thinking, as she sat there atop a plush plush easy chair sat in the corner that Purity had mockingly referred to as ''the cuck chair''. It made her think of her own family - those people of flesh and blood which yet lived, back home. ''Home'', as it were; far to the north, in Nova Scotia. She thought of their farm, the way it was dreamily laden with snow this time of year... The hot apple cider, made from cider brewed in their cellar... The cows, how they licked at her hands affectionately whenever she went out to feed them in the crisp wintry mornings... The scent of cinnamon and clove from her mother''s Christmas pomander-


    Oh, fuck.


    That was right. It was Christmas soon. Mother fucker.


    Esper James hadn''t had a ''Christmas'' in a long time. A very, very long time - decades, about... She wondered for a few moments, trying to remember when the last time she had actually celebrated mother fucking Christmas was. Twenty five years, she figured - she had tried, so horribly and desperately, to recapture the magic and joy of the holiday season for those first five years. Even now, she could remember it.


    Staying up all day decorating her apartment with a tiny little Christmas village of porcelain buildings and miniatures, lining fairy lights with Christmas colored bulbs up around her walls, and watching claymation classics from a hundred years ago. She had sat down, all alone, in her festive little hovel... and forced herself to smile, forced herself not to notice the tears running down her face and dripping into her pigs'' blood infused hot cocoa. She had sung carols to herself as she laid in bed, hoping beyond all hope that her warbling song would find its way to her hometown before sleep finally overcame her.


    The only Christmas gifts she had received for many of those years were the traditional Tsang ''gifts'': discount vouchers for FixAte, a singular bonus vacation day to be used at one''s own leisure (Judas had always snipped EJ''s ticket in half), and an invite to the company Christmas party. The Christmas party, of course, was as awful as could be for people like her.


    The execs would carouse and cavort, guzzling stark red cocktails and, as the day drew on, imbibing controlled substances. They hired escorts en-masse to ''reward'' these loyal executives; they bought the best meat in town, some of it flown in same-day to ensure freshness; they purchased enough booze to fill a lake and then some. There was even a lottery (execs only, of course), for Christmas bonuses.


    These were for the rich and privileged, of course. For Esper James, the two times she had actually gone, it had been somehow even more demeaning and humiliating than her actual job.


    She had been expected to light everyone and anyone''s cigarette, pipe, or cigar, without even a second thought. She had been ordered to help set up the dinner once it was done, even though she wasn''t even a member of the catering staff. She had only been allowed to eat once everyone else took their own plate, and even then, some bastard always found a way to ash their cigarette so the cherry fell right on the nicest piece of meat.


    Even worse, she always ended up getting groped, and accosted, and belittled, and intimidated; she had only ever been a piece of meat to them, just an expendable bit of fun to kick around and objectify and reduce to little more than dirt. At least on the second try, Judas had found her halfway through the night, and while she had demanded that EJ follow her around like a little handbag to hold whatever Judas wanted, do whatever Judas told her, and say what Judas wanted her to say? It had been a vast improvement. No one had bothered her under Judas''s purview.


    Esper James became aware of the sting at the corners of her eyes. She wasn''t crying... no, not yet, at least - but she couldn''t help feeling sorry for herself. For all those years without a hint of camaraderie, only chained to Vitus by the cravings of second-life, and her own fear of true death... Only now, with the season well underway and nothing but joy and comfort around her, did she actually have the required moment to breathe and reflect on what her life had been.


    Attempts to return to her reminisce, having been broken free by saline sting, were met only with a bitter blackness in her core. Judas, her thoughts always returned to Judas. Her fingers began to dig into the leather of her chair''s armrests, silently thankful for the treatment process of Vitus leather that made them claw-resistant.


    Judas had tried, in her own fucked up way, to be kind to Esper James. But that made EJ feel worse, if anything else - her stomach churned with revulsion at the bleak comparison of Judas to Purity and Esthrielle. Hell, Judas had put both women through Hell - and their hell had been worse than her own, EJ figured.


    Her tongue, once more, felt the tips of her fangs. She was tempted to bite down, as she had done before; tempted to bite down, and gulp her own blood, and let the piercing agony focus her back on something somehow less horrible than Christmas memories and those recurring thoughts of her employer and tormentor. Her jaw was tense and locked; the muscles in her arms, and neck, and legs, and core, all drew taut like a bowstring. She couldn''t bring herself to bite down again, of course - she knew it would be misguided to hurt herself just to clear away those memories, since her respite would be brief at best.


    Instead, she focused on Esthrielle and Zofia. Both girls were hunched over in their seats, eyes glued to the screen as Jake Voyage was lowered on a wire, dodging lasers as he went. Action movies, eh? That checked out. Esthrielle was a scrappy sort, punching first and asking questions never... though, EJ thought, that was perhaps a rude way to categorize her girlfriend. She had many layers, and paring her down to ''white haired, steel fanged bitch who likes to fight'' was rude.


    Zofia, too - she presented herself as a nerd of the highest degree. Esper James was sure that, if she were to introduce fashion glasses to Zofi, the second-living stan would be overjoyed to learn more. And yet, Zofi had said she was an artist... Back in Poland, she had been going to university for art. She had been a free-spirited creative, who - while intelligent - was never cut out for what the convent had assigned her to do.


    The bitter seed in EJ''s heart spread its roots up to her face, harsh scowl morphing into a wry, jaded smirk. Was anyone on this awful Earth free of the awful abuses of others? Were there any out there who could escape the oppression that was forced upon them merely through the happenstance of existing in the wrong place at the wrong time? Executives and CEOs and all those things didn''t count - the people in power were the ones who engaged in the tyranny, and so they were to blame, not exempt.


    Esper James shut her eyes, taking in a big breath and releasing an even bigger sigh.


    "EJ? What''s up, babe?" Esthrielle''s voice pierced the relative silence, the paper thin veneer of her blonde lover''s isolation punched straight through. EJ''s eyes snapped open, and she fumbled to put a more appropriate face on: one that smiled and with eyes alight, rather than the self-loathing pity party she had been working through only moments ago.


    Est had paused the movie, and both she and Zofi were staring straight at EJ. They had been so engrossed in the film that they had fallen out of habit of blinking, giving their artificial eyes an eerie semblance of old porcelain dolls. EJ blinked involuntarily as she thought of it, brain scrambling for an answer - Est took the unintended hint and started blinking again, irises flashing as she wordlessly reminded Zofi to do the same.If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    "Ah... Nothing, Est. I''m, ah... I''m just..." C''mon, EJ, think! Think of whatever excuse you can find! There''s no way you can explain to your girlfriend that you were lamenting the evils of the modern world, and how they were forced indisputably upon those too unlucky to be born a member of the upper classes! She wracked her brain at lightning speed, trying to remember any advice she had ever heard about lying, while also working to formulate a good excuse.


    Well, to make a lie believable, you have to take a little hit. Saying that she was having heavy thoughts, without elaborating on those thoughts, would be way more believable than trying to pass herself off as fine. Esper James girded her heart and opened her maw anew, allowing a little white lie to tumble free.


    "I''m thinking about Christmas. It''s Christmas in, what... eight days? Just thinking about what I''ll get you, and Purity, and Zofi, and Lulu... Wondering if they''ll serve hot cocoa here, haha. Probably spiked, or laced with ecstasy, or something..." While the ending was limp, it wasn''t entirely untrue. She had been thinking of Christmas, and they did likely spike anything they could in a place like this. EJ wouldn''t be surprised if they even laced the water, were you to ask for some.


    Almost as soon as the words were loosed from her lips, though, Esper James felt sick to her stomach. Seeing both women light up like Christmas lights at the mention of that festive day, and the prospect of some kind of gift, only drove the knife deeper into the blonde''s gut.


    Just as Esthrielle opened her mouth to speak, to comment on EJ''s sudden holiday plans and the fulfillment of them, the blonde couldn''t bear the turmoil that ate away at her from within. It was as though she had drunk a vial full of acid - or worse, veggie juice. Her gut''s rapacious biome could handle some more acid, she figured, but vegetables? God forbid.


    "No! I lied! I-I...! I was thinking about... About how shitty my Christmases have always been in this fucking horrible city. Thinking about how I''ve always been pushed around, kicked into the dirt, spat on and shit on and fucked over at every possible opportunity... a-and I''m tired of it! I''m excited to finally, after three decades, to have a normal Holiday season!"


    Well. That was that, then, wasn''t it? Est''s and Zofia''s faces both fell almost immediately, the auburn-tan ex-Knight hopping to her feet to slowly, ponderously approach, her face a collaboration between grief and sympathy. Esper James didn''t dare cry; not yet, not now. She''d done way too much fucking crying, and now that shit was finally going well for her and her lovers, she wasn''t about to cry again. Not after things had been so good today... Not after she''d been so very fucking good.


    There was something to be said about the goodness offering a window for grief; but, for once in her life, EJ was determined to be stubborn. Even as Esthrielle met her at the chair''s edge, and leaned down to gather her up for a heartbroken embrace, EJ forced herself not to cry. There was no way in hell that she''d... That she''d...


    "Oh, EJ... Baby girl, I... I promise that we''re gonna make this Christmas a good one. For all of us." Purity''s head now poked out from behind the bathroom''s doorframe, Lulu''s popping out comically from just below her. If EJ wasn''t gritting her teeth and trying not to collapse in on herself, she would have had plenty of thoughts about Purity''s new gothic style - the black lipstick, the dark liner and shadow and mascara, the addition of a spiked collar they had found somewhere within the fetish garments the bathroom was crammed with. There was no time for such thoughts, though; not here, not now. Maybe tomorrow, after they''d had some time to rest.


    As Esthrielle silently clutched Esper James''s chest to her own, her synthetic skin amplifying its own temperature to provide a more suitable hugging doll, Purity stepped out of the bathroom to join them. Once the trio were united, Est shifted ever so slightly - just enough that Purity could now hug EJ as well, the three women forming the vertices of an amorous triangle.


    Lulu and Zofi said nothing, made no move nor sound, as the three women now in the corner of the room huddled around one another. Up close like this, Purity''s perfume was unavoidable - and, from the intensity of it, EJ could tell that she was amplifying the effects. Working with the very vampire that Purity had been grafted with had informed Esper James pretty well on how to pick up on things like that. However, EJ didn''t dare shy away... She didn''t try and resist its calming, loving effects, the way it comforted her and lowered her guard to allow her partners'' love in.


    She didn''t need to try so hard, now - she had choked back her tears long enough that they began to fade on their own, no longer threatening to burst free in what Esper James was assured would be an embarrassing display. Instead, she now buried her face into the shared shoulders of Puri and Est, side-by-side, snuggling up as closely into them as she could manage. A deep breath of shared scents was the final nail in her grief''s coffin - and, as she had been raised from the womb of a morgue, confidence and determination rose from grief''s mangled corpse.


    "...okay. Yes, th-thank you. We''ll have a great Christmas... I''ll help. I''m tired of being useless, you know? Tired of just being here because I''m the one who got us into this bullshit i-in the first place. Let''s... Let''s make Christmas good, together. Not like I''ll have much better to do, haha..." She pulled away as she finished the thought, smiling with a trembling lip at the faces opposite her own. "Can''t really leave the building, hahaha."


    Est and Purity looked at Esper James for a few moments, trying to gauge her emotions; her switch had felt sudden, and uncharacteristic, seeing as the little ghoulette had been so prone to being overwhelmed in the past. And yet, as conviction''s flame waved in EJ''s heart and red-flecked eyes, the two girls holding her burst out in grins. Purity nodded as emphatically as she could without knocking heads with her lovers; Est just began to snicker with delight, her prosthetic arms amplifying their strength to really give her gals a squeeze.


    "Fuck yeah! I dunno if we can fit a tree in here, haha, but we''ll find something! Maybe make a tree out of sex toys, yeah? Got enough of them in that fucking closet-" Esthrielle turned her gaze towards the room''s closet, but as she did, Purity took the chance to step in and interrupt any possible suggestions of having a merry Sexmas.


    "I can talk to Khetnep. We can probably get some decorations, and with myself, and Lulu, and Zofi, we can definitely earn enough to buy some nice gifts and get something tasty for Christmas dinner. We''ll all work together to have a good Christmas, yeah girls? Our first Christmas free of our individual ties that bind." She turned away from EJ as well, now, her gaze perpendicular to Esthrielle''s own. As she turned past Est''s cheek, she planted an ebon-painted kiss there - which made Esthrielle stammer almost immediately, closing her lips tight to keep from fumbling her words.


    Lulu''s expression of concern had, meanwhile, blossomed into one of great delight - though still tinged with that confident, mischievous air that seemed to pervade everything she did. She stepped out of the bathroom as well, lips pink and shadow a bright purple to compliment her hair''s darkened hue. She strode over to Zofia, tossing an arm around her without warning or second thought... much to the brunette''s surprise, and shy delight.


    "Eh? Family Christmas? Fuck yes. God, it feels so good to swear again... Ah, but, Christmas! Yes! We''ll talk to Khetnep, get some work for ourselves, save up some cash... We''ve got enough time to earn a little scratch, right? And, ah haha, uh... We''ve, or, well, I''ve still got some funds from the convent, in my wallet..." She performed a false face of coy bashfulness, her eyes fluttering at Purity while her arm pulled Zofi tighter into the half-embrace.


    Zofia tried to nod as vigorously as she could without indirectly motorboating Lucretia, eyes as wide as the moon yet never looking to the woman at her side. "Y-Yeah, hahahaha...! Christmas sounds... It sounds good, you know? I, uhm, I don''t have any UNAC cash... I never got to go out in the field, so... Well, I did once a while ago, but... n-nevermind, haha!"


    Esper James couldn''t help but snicker at the nuns'' antics. Zofi really just had no idea how to address Lulu, did she? Or, rather, Lulu knew exactly how to push Zofia''s buttons. Maybe both. Absently, EJ wondered just how many of the nuns happened to be gay... And if these two even were gay, or if both just thought the other was fun to play with. Weird. Weird, weird, weird.


    Purity turned around once again, satisfied with the answers she''d received. This time, it was Esthrielle who kissed Purity - snagging her as she turned, and being rewarded with an inky imprint on her own lips as compensation. Purity giggled, staying her turn for a moment to plant a final smooch on Est''s nose, before going back to look at Esper James.


    "Okay, then. We''ll have a Christmas together this year - all five of us. A comfy little Christmas, with hot cocoa, and Christmas movies, and everything we''ve all been missing out on. We''ll do it right, just like when we were kids... Just like they show on TV. Haha... Ah... We''ll make it good. I promise." It was EJ''s turn to be kissed, this time - by Purity, and then Esthrielle, in quick succession. Frankly, Esper James wouldn''t have been too shocked if Zofia and Lucretia rode the wave of liplock as an excuse to get at one another.


    They didn''t, of course. Lucretia seemed like she was having too much fun playing around to put Zofi in checkmate quite yet. And besides, they had the rest of the night to relax, and think about Christmas plans... and what they were going to do for it.


    Tsang wasn''t a concern, for just one night at least, and that alone was the best gift EJ could have asked for.

 Act Five (Ch. 99) - Five Colour Fumble Part 1; or, Pink Professional

    Alllright. First things first.


    Esthrielle and EJ deserved a Christmas - they needed a Christmas. Lulu and Zofi were welcome to get their own kicks, sure... Purity wouldn''t dream of stopping them, per se, but. They were a side mission, a bonus objective to the semi-sanguine seductress.


    But. They were still, loosely as of yet, their friends and roommates. They were all gonna be sharing a single bed like some kind of fictional sapphic situationship-polycule amalgam. That was... Well, that was reason enough to help them get their affairs in order, and to do what she could to smooth the process of them finding work with the establishment''s madame.


    La Scission was more than crammed full of beautiful men and women who were more than happy to do whatever filth Khetnep directed them to, if only for an excuse to live off of Tsang''s horrid grid. As Purity made her exit from the bedroom the next morning, she considered the situation her little group was in, and what they could even offer a woman like Khetnep - after all, the room and board were out of favor and courtesy, not obligation. Khetnep didn''t need any of them.


    Between the tax evasion, the murder, the prostitution, the drug sales... and so on, and so forth, one would imagine that the monolith of Tsang Solutions would have sighted in on this place decades ago. At least, that''s what your average citizen would assume. After all, the blind, deaf, and dumb sheep of Vitus''s huddled masses really seemed to believe that Tsang wanted to protect them.


    Purity sneered as she stepped out into the hallway, her borrowed high-heels (procured from the closet, and therefore built into a pair of shiny ebon stockings) clicking against the hallway''s stone paver floor. Fucking idiots, the lot of them. Stupid fucking idiots. In her time using Khetnep''s little empire of shadow as her own staging grounds, Purity had learned that Tsang did, in fact, know about all the criminality in their own city. They were more than aware of where it was, who was propagating it, and how it could be stopped. If they wanted to.


    But doing so would cost them bullets, cost them lives, cost them money, and time and effort and a million other things they simply didn''t want to put out. The easier solution was a mutual profit; Khetnep and others like her were allowed to perpetually prop up their shelters of grim shadow and smoke and blood, and in return? Tsang got a funnel of cash, and sometimes, other things.


    Purity rounded the final corner, bittersweet satisfaction resounding through her at the feeling of the catsuit she had donned - also ''borrowed'' from the closet, but knowing the room and her own fashion choices even on her own? It was probably actually hers. It was tight, and a bit constricting... but it felt secure, and warm, and protective, and familiar. That was where the bitter in her sweet had come from, of course.


    The staff elevator loomed before her. It would have loomed, actually, if it wasn''t hidden to patrons by default. A beautiful oil painting, genuine and hand-made, sat all alone at a long stretch of wall nearest the patron elevator and stairwell. The topic depicted? A woman in the throes of lust with a tangle of other bodies, their faces concealed, like a serpentine mating ball.


    Purity allowed a wry grin to slash her lips from edge to edge; she''d spent many evenings thinking that the woman in the painting was her, at least in spirit. The painted woman''s hair was chestnut brown, however - and her tits, Purity thought with a bit of smug satisfaction, weren''t nearly as nice.


    The pinkette''s right hand raised up now, slowly to give herself a few more moments of hesitance, before her middle digit pressed the bottom right corner of the painting''s frame. There was a click as the button concealed therein pressed into the painting''s gilt frame, barely a centimeter deep. She drew her hand back, standing as straight as she could, chest puffed out and ass pushed back. Again, natural - familiar.


    The wall rumbled nearly inaudibly as the elevator was called, rapidly traversing from wherever it had last been. The staff elevator was a fair bit faster than the patron elevator, of course; longer times for clientele meant more time in the tainted air, and more time for the staff to slip them drugs. Less time for the staff, conversely, meant it would be quicker to get to a demanding client, quicker to flee a particularly abusive or dangerous client, and easier for staff that were off-duty to get to ground level and enjoy their free time.


    Purity had always admired that about Khetnep: that she would think of these things. At least, Purity assumed Khetnep had taken them into account, and not some nameless engineer who had done all the work for her.


    The rumbling ceased; the expanse of empty wall just beside the oil painting split down the middle, revealing the very elevator Purity and her girlies had ridden after leaving Khetnep''s office. No one was inside - just how Purity wanted it. She didn''t have time to meet and greet with any of the staff, not yet. She wanted to get this all settled before any of that could go down.


    Click-clack became thud-thump as she mounted the elevator''s platform, pressing the button for the madame''s office. It was cheekily labeled with a K instead of a number - and, as opposed to the numbers, many of which were worn down from use, the K was spotless. People rarely went to go see Khetnep of their own volition.


    Ptschink. The button pressed in, and in a matter of seconds, the elevator had returned to the steel cocoon it was always meant to be. Somewhere, a distant motor hummed as the cables were worked. Khetnep''s office wasn''t even that far away from the fifth floor of the sinful sanctuary, and with less than a full minute of travel time, the elevator trundled to a stop and opened itself anew. Same foreboding unlit hallway, same lack of anything resembling human life, same...


    Oh?


    Purity''s senses were far from those of a second-living. She only had certain vampiric parts, little mutated bits drawn out of a transhuman bloodsucker and proven to be compatible with one whose blood was red, not black. And yet, in her years working for Tsang and Khetnep and herself, she had learned to pick up on subtle tells in her surroundings and changes in the air, whether that be scent or sound. And right now, she could hear music.


    The tender strikes of a harpsichord''s hammer rippled thru the air, only audible if Purity held her breath and focused. She figured it must have been Khetnep - despite the modernity of her criminal enterprise, she loved to think of herself more akin to the mobsters and syndicates of centuries ago, who sipped cognac from crystal lowball glasses and spent their evenings reminiscing about ''the Old Country''. Harpsichord didn''t strike Purity as particularly Egyptian, though, so the ''Old Country'' yearning could be tossed away. Maybe she was just indulging herself?


    Whatever. Purity drew in a breath she hadn''t realized she''d been without, proceeding now to step into the hallway and closer to her destination. Khetnep''s room was, without a doubt, the source of the music - and, as Purity got closer, a vestigial bit of her vampiric transplants flared up; she smelled blood, fresh blood, and raw meat.


    Not nearly so intense as her little ghoulish girlfriend, no, but Purity''s previous unease was completely swept away so that amusement might replace it. She knew what was going on, now... and while most people would have waited patiently outside, so as not to interrupt, Purity Alouise Francharde was not ''most people''.


    Thump, tha-thump-thump. There was silence for a moment (disregarding the harpsichord, that is), and then the door unlocked itself without any further notice. There was no invitation in; there was no vocal permission offered, or entreaty to enter. There was naught but the implication of access provided. Purity was okay with that, though; God only knew she had worked off of implied permission for years, and with Khetnep? She knew it was the best she was going to get.The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    A thinly concealed hand reached out with steady, measured pace, taking the knob in her palm and turning it with a similarly calculated pace. Too fast would get her mocked, or perhaps scolded, as it would imply desperation or entitlement in Khetnep''s mind. Too slowly would, as well, deign punishment: Khetnep would perceive the entrant as too timid, or as a time-waster. Either way would set the tone of this conversation to a footing that Purity was far from keen on taking; they were both mistakes she had made before, more than just once. Her practiced motions opened the door and pushed it in, neither too hurriedly nor sluggishly, instead confident and precise in their action.


    The other side of the door was revealed, Khetnep''s sanctum laid bare for Purity''s purview. It was literally the exact same as when she had last seen it, when she had initially introduced EJ, and Est, and Zofi, and Lulu. Khetnep was still in that damn black dress, the slinky one that was more like a silk sheet laid atop a marble statue than a proper piece of apparel. Before her was sat a gorgeous cut of New York strip, the outside seared to perfection - but she had already begun to dig in, and from the cuts Puri could see, it may as well have been holding hands with raw.


    Puri strode forth with her head held high and her motions as fluid and confident as she could possibly make them. An unspoken command from the madame set the door to close itself in Purity''s wake, and when it closed, the click of its lock spoke to how serious the two had both become about whatever was going to happen here.


    "Purity... Please, sit. Well, I''d love to tell you to sit, but..." Khetnep broke the silence first, her massive, fang-toothed grin reminiscent somehow of a shark and a leech and a wood chipper all at once. More than those, though, it was the smile of a Cheshire cat who had the perfect prank to play on her newest Alice.


    "Catnip." Purity nodded with a mixture of genuine respect and playful insincerity, her plush pink lips drawn into a tight smile. She stepped closer to her new(?) boss without delay, keen on making the fellow mischief-maker know that the game was afoot from both ends. Purity was thankful for the heels she had chosen, then, because with their help, she didn''t even need to go on her tip-toes to set the shelf of her ass on Khetnep''s desk before taking the offered seat.


    Khetnep''s eyes narrowed as she was reminded she was not the only predator in the room, and that Purity was more than willing to make this game one that two could, and would, play. Her smile never faltered, however, and her left hand - free of blood, unlike the right - reached out to give Purity''s thigh a squeeze.


    "I left your old suit in the room on purpose, you know - I''m glad you found it. Looks just as good on you as it did back then, though we both know you won''t be wearing it in the same capacity - and neither of us would want you to, anyways." Khetnep''s smile softened, allowing the ''Catnip'' moniker to go by unpunished. Her hand retracted, going down to rest casually in her lap, atop a cloth napkin stained well with old blood.


    Purity''s smile widened, her teeth now exposed in all their perfect ivory color and ideal, medically-ensured positioning. "Agreed. I can''t see myself sucking strange cock in a dark room with a camera in my face ever again, you know? I''ve learned to bite since I was last in La Scission."


    She winked, eyes now locking with Khetnep''s own unnatural yellows. The madame immediately burst into a momentary spate of laughter, nodding amicably and shutting her eyes as mirth overtook her. "Good! Good, good... You''re a smart woman, Purity, and beautiful. You deserve more than all this - but we all do what we have to, to survive. Sometimes that means selling videos. Now, ahaha, ah... What brings you to my inner sanctum? This about work?"


    Sharp as ever, Purity remarked, thought ringing within the confines of her mind. Very little got past Khetnep, especially not things related to money, or business. Puri''s eyes flicked away from her former and future employer, down to that hunk of nearly-raw meat that sat between herself and the other woman. She reached down, slowly enough that Khetnep could have stopped her if she wanted to, and took the New York strip between her thumb and forefinger. The meat was raised, the mouth was opened... and, as perfect first-living incisors split barely-cooked muscle fibres, the throat drank the juice that followed.


    Purity chewed the stolen piece of meat for a few moments, the main body of another person''s dinner returned to its rightful place in the meantime. The flavor was, of course, fantastic: the rich umami of beef, like blood and metal and sharp blades and deep dark earthen things, mingling with the herbal love of the rosemary and the electric thrill of garlic. It was tender enough to be chewed and contemplated, but was anything other than stringy, or tough.


    Purity swallowed.


    "Yes. Work. For myself... and for Lucretia, and Zofia. They''d like to earn a buck. Est, too, but... I''m going to be more picky about what work she does." Purity reached lower, now, her juice-damp hand coming to a rest on Khetnep''s lap. Fingers and palm set into motion, wiping themselves clean on the cloth napkin that lay below them, though they were anything but shy about pressing just a bit more firmly than was necessary.


    She returned to a full sit, hand now clean and dry, the juice of stolen meat sitting in a thin, glistening layer over her lips. From her raised position she cast a sultry look down at her boss, teeth put away but plush lips still worked into a cocksure smirk. Khetnep simply stared up at her for a few seconds, smile plastered on her face more out of obligation now than true amusement.


    "Fuck, Purity. Don''t... Don''t do that. You''re kinda scary like this, you know?" Khetnep''s grin was bolstered by true mirth, and she chuckled to herself and her guest. "You''ve got four other girls cooped up in your little love nest, and from what I''d guess? You can take your pick of any fucking one of them, at any time. But. Work, work, let''s talk work."


    Khetnep''s husky bedroom tones weren''t quite so resonant or domineering now, though Purity couldn''t help but feel that she was allowing herself to be on the back foot for Purity''s benefit - maybe it was a play to boost Purity''s confidence, to get her back at her peak. The vampiric drive for power and control wasn''t something that only vampires felt, but Purity knew that she had become notably more controlling, and dominant, in the aftermath of Judas''s ministrations.


    Khetnep leaned back in her chair, at least as much as one could truly lean in such an object. "Zofi. She''s perfect for guys who want to try getting bitten, but don''t want the scare of actual, potential ferality. Lulu? Girl''s got a great look for a dancer, or for any back-rooms work... Or, I think we could have her on the first few floors, really play up the idea of a girl that you took home from the club to screw in a no-tell motel. You know?"


    Purity''s smile became notably restrained, the flame in her chest taking some drops of water at Khetnep''s proposition. "Ah, Catnip. I don''t... I don''t think I, or they, want to be in that line of work. Zofi would be terrible at it, she''s like a fawn without her mommy, and... Like, yes, I get some people are into that, but it wouldn''t be pretend abuse. She''d actually be in Hell."


    Purity let her smirk fully descend, then, the image of a crying and bruised Zofi forcing its way to the forefront of her mind. La Scission''s madame responded with a nod, now steepling her fingers. "Yeah, I can see that happening. I''m somewhat glad you shot the idea down, honestly - especially since, girls with robot bodies? If a rowdy fuck punches or slaps either of them, we''ll immediately have serious problems. Hmm... How about this, then?"


    Khetnep''s grin drew in what mass Purity''s own had lost. "Let''s get them doing video work, yeah? Strictly with one another, or alone. No strangers... No dangers... Just two girls who know each other really well. And, aha, seeing the way Zofia was about Lulu when I met them? She''d drip at the idea, I''m sure."


    Purity sighed, turning away from the madame for a moment. Yes, the two women were... more than just ''friendly'' with one another, with Lulu always leading the charge. But, were the two women really like that? Zofi was potentially just curious, and Lulu seemed to get something out of the teasing alone. It was hard to tell if there was genuine interest or desire... Purity knew what it was like to be in Lulu''s position, flirting and playing around for the simple gratification of doing it, and being rewarded for it. She didn''t want to jump any guns.


    "Ahh... I''ll field the idea to them. You sure there''s nothing you''d need in any of your other business ventures?"


    Khetnep pondered Purity''s question for a moment, this time hers being the smile that faded down a few notches. Finally, she nodded decisively, eyes shut and grin renewed. "Yeah. I could maybe have them run BD''s, or be hired muscle for my less secure establishments, or just fucking kill people I need killed. Tsang''s been really uppity about shit recently, especially with the Revenants and Knights upping their activity in the city."


    She looked up, then, her lemon yellows meeting Purity''s icy blues before she continued her thought. "Might be a bit of an ironic stroke of poeticism to have two - or even three - former Knights of St. Lazarus them-fucking-selves sifting heads on the execs that are giving us lowlifes heat..."


    Purity nearly fucking squealed. These were women who had been designed to do exactly that - like, trained for countless years and mechanically augmented in a fucking lab by some of the richest bastards in the ERFS, specifically to be professional killers. Sure, there was danger with it, but there was danger with their entire life right now. And besides, hadn''t she and Est and EJ all agreed they needed, and wanted, to get back at Tsang?


    Sure, they were technically underworld contracted hits to destabilize legislative power structures. But that was revolution in its own way, right?


    Purity certainly thought so.

 Act Five (Ch. 100) - Five Colour Fumble Part 2; or, Pale Embracer

    Purity had made her way out of the bedroom, and left four women alone in a room made up for five.


    Free of the twitch and tremble of lust and obedience, the ivory shock had been allowed to dry of its own sweat - chestnut flesh once dappled with the damp of love had been given ample time in the humid air to become as dry as it truly could. She had put herself together, a clockwork doll re-assembling its own entrails, as best as she could manage. It was good enough.


    After the pinkette slipped out, mumbling some excuse about going to see Khetnep, Esthrielle Raffaela Luna Esippardi - known to her friends, of course, as Est - had continued to snuggle with Esper James. Bare flesh dead squished bare flesh synthetic, and together the two made a humorous sandwich of a particularly mortal dichotomy. There was no reason to say much, if anything; in fact, the entire bedroom drew to a gentle hum from the combination of the ventilation and the television.


    Est drew back her lips, fangs presented to an audience inattentive. A simple moment of indiscretion was all it took for their tips to land, with momentary sting but lacking force, upon ghoulish throatskin.


    EJ yelped, causing Lucretia and Zofia to look over from their own little huddle atop the bed. Esper James and her Italian stallion had remained in that leather easy chair, tucked into the corner of the room with a view of its entirety - and now, it seemed, vice versa. Est had taken her seat atop EJ''s lap, their chests touching from inverse facings, and making the blonde''s neck just that much more biteable.


    "E-Esthrielle...!"


    Esper James had little else to say, even as the steely tips pressed with further force upon her tender flesh. They had already made love tonight, and quite emphatically at that - it was a bit too soon for more, wasn''t it? And yet, Est was far from keen on letting go.


    In her heart, there was no true intention to the actions; no further inclination for sin, nor for supplement to her previously-received reaming. Rather, there was a simple, base, and primal desire: the desire to bite. Esper James was hers to share with Purity - and Purity was no longer present, so sharing was out of the question. She had no intent to draw up lust from Esper James, even nestled into the ghoul''s lap as the Wayward was. She simply yearned to bite.


    "Est, ah...! Ah, n-not so har- Ah!" EJ was cut off mid-sentence by the recession of the fangs only for them to be reapplied with a singular force, the addition of which came so very near to piercing her meat. A gentle growl emanated from Esthrielle''s chest, reverberating through her body in a way that would bring applause from a feline judge.


    As Esthrielle tasted the bitter flavor of oily black blood, she drew back her daggers and replaced them with a kiss; her lover''s pinprick wound was suckled gently, gingerly, though its sanguine excretion was neither swallowed nor spit. Esper James, meanwhile, had no clue what the hell was happening, and quite honestly it was wracking her with the very same sort of deferential reaction that Est had been inflicted with not long ago. Flicking her crimson ocular inputs up to Esper James''s face, Est knew that she had succeeded in turning the tables. It had not been her initial intent, nor was it to her detriment; rather, it was a bonus of sorts.


    At least, that''s what she told herself. It felt good to contemplate - felt correct. She had been such a trembling little kitten in Esper James and Purity''s attentions for so long that there was... genuine delight in seeing the blonde on the back foot.


    As the wounds quickly clotted and sealed, Esthrielle drew in all the black blood she could manage. Then, she pulled away with a silent kiss, mouth now full of EJ''s essence. Their faces met as the Italian withdrew; on the bed, the Pole and her playful companion sat in silence, watching with wide eyes, their movie now ignored. Whatever was happening here, in the flesh, was far superior to some fiction crafted on a distant film set.


    "Est, what... Did I do something, ah... Did you just wanna bite me, or...-" There may have been more to that statement, had things continued undisturbed. Instead, however, Esthrielle had some plans entirely of her own. Thin lips split to present an open mouth, the lower row of polished fangs and the tongue behind them all mired in that thick, twinkling blood of the second-living. EJ''s words died before they could be birthed, and her wide eyes would have drawn wider had they not been at full measure.


    Ohhh, yes. Yes. A new sort of flame came alight within the Wayward''s chest, and she could only suppress the excitement in her heart as she proceeded with her machinations. Her tongue, still made of the warmth and meat of base humanity, began to stir; she lapped the blood in her mouth, swirling it about and folding it over upon itself, muted elation threatening to make her motions too quick or too insistent.


    Esper James, already a fairly pale girl, nearly resembled virgin snow. Her pupils were locked upon the fluid, black on black, as Esthrielle took a moment to try and gargle the stuff - an effort which found success, though far more minimal than she would have hoped. And then?


    Esthrielle''s lips returned to their resting state, one against the other. Her throat took momentary motion; a pronounced swallow was made, with accompanying gulp; a sigh of satisfaction was released, maw opening wide once more to reveal its newfound cleanliness. Not a single speck of ebon blood remained, simply fangs, and teeth, and the insides of her cheeks, and the abyss of her throat''s entrance.


    Est felt a stir beneath her seat, one that once again threatened to break her facade and set her to giggling, or squealing, or some sort of self-satisfied expression. Esper James was stunned into silence, eyes yet rivaling windows in their immensity, though their focus was layered with a sudden daze. Her lower jaw had dropped an inch, her own mouth hanging agape as words unsaid spilled free into the void of disregard.


    Perfect.


    Esthrielle leaned in, slowly but steadily, ensuring EJ had time to say something - or try to - if she saw fit. She did not. Their lips met at Est''s behest, and another vocalized bit of satisfaction rolled out of the ex-nun: a moan of relish, the type a content lover might make, or a pleased diner.


    Est could not see it, her own eyes now closed, but she could practically feel the blonde''s lids flutter and shut with trembling euphoria. She shuddered beneath Esthrielle as their tongues met, and danced; Esthrielle, for her part, shifted positions so she was taller than her stunned lover. They let the moments while away as their hearts and bodies became one, Est more pleased with herself now than she had been in... How long had it been?


    Years, most certainly. She was pleased now in a way to rival years of success in the name of others - forever a champion of someone else''s needs, someone else''s cause, someone else''s greed and hatred and sadistic impulse. This victory, and the sweetness of its fruit, was hers and hers alone. And, well, she supposed Lulu and Zofi could bask in her glow, if nothing else.


    Her eyes were shut, though within the sight-not-sight of her comms suite, she could see now a blossoming of dialogue.


    [[ Jesus Christ, Mother Mary, God in Heaven, Esthrielle... The way you''re sucking face is incredible, if you don''t mind a friendly compliment. What have they been teaching you in this city, outside the convent? ]]


    Est allowed a momentary puff of air from her nostrils, the closest thing to mirth she could permit, given the situation. She gave herself a moment to respond - practically an hour at the speed of mental input, but as her hands buried themselves in Esper James''s hair and waistband, she felt it appropriate to fire back.If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    [[ Enjoying the show, Lulu? Come now; don''t tell me you''ve never done this sort of thing. You always seemed to come home with your lipstick smudged, you know... ]]


    Even at distance, and without sight, Est knew Lulu was smirking inside. The comms suite transmits emotion, of course - so that the doll''s face might remain placid, even as its mind is abuzz with input and output. Lulu would have been laughing, if she told her body to laugh; instead, only her brain was allowed to snicker.


    [[ Oi! I... Won''t lie, you know, I''ve had my share of fun in some of Vitus''s seedier establishments. Lonely sorts love to spill intel, on the rare chance that they find wherein a beautiful woman will sit and listen to their fun facts and corporate jabber. Once had a man tell me the password to his Tsang corporate account, so I could buy some lingerie for cheap. The idea was, of course, that I''d buy it and wear it for his benefit. ]]


    Another snicker; this time, with considerable malice, malice that the comms suite simply would not allow Lucretia''s heart to hide.


    [[ I never saw that poor fuck again. But, I did see a comprehensive, top-down map of Tsang HQ. I did also, of course, get myself that lingerie: black main body, purple lace and trim and bows, and little white skull designs. I was wearing it underneath my habit when we left; still have it with me~ ]]


    The flirtation here was not directed at Esthrielle, of course, even though they were the only ones who were actively in conversation. Rather, the third party to their digital discussion was the intended target - Est was merely collateral damage, a convenient excuse. She felt Zofi''s emotions shift from reclusive and observant to flustered and bashful, and even the new messages that filtered in from the little lurker were tinged with shy intrigue.


    [[ Ah! Lucretia, what gives?! You didn''t, er, you weren''t wearing them in the bathroom! Where''d you put them, then, if you really took them with you? ]]


    Psh. Amateur. It was more and more clear, with every passing minute spent with these two women, why Lucretia had been a senior field team member, while Zofia had only seen one outing.


    [[ Oh? So you were watching me as I undressed, Zofi? Naughty, naughty... We''re a day out of the eyes of God, and already you''re lusting for your fellow Sister? Maybe the Pope was right; maybe Vitus is a corrupting influence, heheheh... ]]


    Zofia was silent, then; their conversation had only taken a minute or two at most, a minute or two that Esthrielle had happily given bodily to EJ, even if her mind was half-distracted with watching her comrades at play. EJ, for her credit, had been doing everything in her power to ride the wave of Esthrielle''s affections; she''d barely shifted, and even what she had done was only to put her arms around her lover''s hips to hold her close.


    God, she was cute. For all the machismo she''d shown earlier, she was pretty easy to wrap around Est''s finger, when it came down to it... Though, the augmented assassin supposed she knew why Esper James was so quick to show her belly to anyone with a bit of force behind their intentions.


    It started with a J, ended with an S, and was the closest Esthrielle had ever seen to genuine, unadulterated, actual biblical evil in all her life - and even then, that was including her own pain at the hands of cruel sadists back before Luca found her. Luca... What was he up to, she wondered? Sailed home, presumably... And for what? The Wayward stance on the second-living was far from responded with in kind. The East sent its warriors over to the West to harry them, to kill them, to undo their very society... but the West was more concerned with its own territories.


    Curious, she thought, even as she made a game of seeing how far down Esper James''s throat she could taste. EJ was a surprisingly good sport about the impromptu engagement; she didn''t even gag as Est started to crest the back of her lover''s tongue, though that was as far as her own could go.


    Her right hand, the one in EJ''s hair, took a handful of it. Her left, the one with the first knuckle of each finger beneath the blonde''s waistband, slipped down to immerse itself up to the wrist. She squeezed her playmate''s ass, pressing her own lips that much more forcefully to Esper James''s, as though trying to swallow her whole. For a few moments their engagement became more aggressive, flesh-on-flesh, swapping spit and swallowing what the other gave. And then, Esthrielle used her grip on EJ''s hair to pull her head back just enough that they were mere centimeters from kissing.


    "Good girl. Good girl, Esper James. You''re so cute when you''re desperate, you know that?" Esthrielle giggled audibly now, not with such delight as she wished she could display, but with a husky tone that spoke of dimly lit bedrooms and silken bed sheets. EJ swallowed hard, staring like a doe in headlights.


    "But... eheheh, sorry for being so sudden with all this~ I had to get you back for all the times you''ve bitten me or Purity, you know? Show you what its like... Let you experience what we go through, when you drink our blood. Do you get it now?" A single pale brow was raised quizzically, expectantly, its owner awaiting an answer which was already implied.


    EJ tried to nod at first, but the grip on her golden locks prevented her; after a split second of mental scrambling for an alternative option, she spoke with quivering lips and warbling words. "Y-Yeah... Yes. Yes, m-mistress, I... Yes, miss Esthrielle. Thank you. Thank you."


    These were the words she was expected to say; it was the opinion she was told she should have, by mere virtue of the preceding events. It had always worked for her, of course... and Esthrielle wasn''t planning on breaking her lover of such a habit, not yet. She''d merely train her into being accustomed to a new provider for these things... A pair of them, as it were. One of ivory, one of bubblegum, both of great wells of love within their hearts that didn''t come at the price that EJ''s old domina had imposed.


    Est smiled with brows arched down, for a moment providing a sharkish countenance which only served to press upon the fear and lust and submission that had wound itself about Esper James''s heart. One final time, for this evening at least, Esthrielle drove her verbal dagger deep into the sacrificial lamb''s innocent body, drawing blood out and splashing it upon love''s altar. "Good girl. That''s what I like to fucking hear."


    Silence reigned for a minute that drew into eternity, at least in EJ''s heart; then, Esthrielle ended her theatrics with a genuine giggle, and her expression became joyful and delighted. She released her woman at both head and rear, those hands finding new homes on EJ''s back and sides as Est wrapped her up in a nearly crushing embrace.


    "Go-ho-hoddd, I love you, EJ~! I love you, I love you, I love you! You''re so fucking cute when you''re like that, you know? Like, wow... Phew, ahaha! That was really fun! Thank you for playing with me~!" Est wiggled in their embrace, shaking EJ back and forth as the tension in the room fell into an abyss.


    She could feel Esper James''s entire body uncoil, like a spring coming unwound before her eyes; in due time, the ghoulette had joined in on the giggling, her heart lightened so that it might rise like a balloon. Her own embrace on the combat doll was redoubled with effort to match Esthrielle''s, the two women happy to sit and linger in their love for one another, and the joy of skinship and afterglow.


    "Wow, f-fuck, ahaha! Est, I... Wow, sheesh, uh...! Fuck. Fuck, haha, I''ve... Wow. That was, uh, r-really fun... I..." What lay beyond that single ''I'' was undone as EJ remembered that Lucretia and Zofia were still in the room; a quick glance of red-flecked emeralds confirmed that both women were still watching, though Zofia had been grabbed and drawn into Lucretia''s lap. The latter woman winked at Esper James in a way that, retrospectively, was almost certainly supposed to be a gesture of support - however, in the moment, it only served to cause the blood-drinker to blush.


    Zofia gave a timid thumbs-up to the pair of them, her eyes averting and her face shying away when Est turned to follow EJ''s gaze. Lucretia''s face remained towards them, and she gave Esthrielle the thumbs-up that Zofia could not, in tandem with a smile so wide it threatened to rupture her synthetic skin.


    "Good show, you two! Way better than whatever the fuck was on TV - oh, fuck, what''s even on? Sword Sprinter 2050? Fuck, I love Bryant Etlein, it feels like he''s literally me..." Snickering, chuckling, giggling, laughing - mirth in whatever form one might choose to label it as poured now from Lucretia, who pulled Zofi closer in their back-to-chest embrace. The former art student grumbled audibly as she was made a hug pillow of, but also, she didn''t try to escape it.


    Esthrielle rolled her eyes. "Uh-huh, uh-huh. The abbess makes you a fucking field op with privileges and you use them to rot your brain on UNAC internet; I see I was lucky to be in the kill squads, haha. Anyways... Here, EJ."


    Est released her lover and slipped free of the blonde''s arms, hopping to her feet. Once she was on her feet she put her hands together over her head, arms fully extended, back now arching in a well-deserved stretch. Esper James could heard the audible cracking and popping of her semi-synthetic girlfriend''s organic spinal column.


    "Get up. Just for a sec. Let''s swap places; I wanna let you sit on my lap after that, cuddle into you and smell your hair and all that gay shit that girlfriends do."

 Act Five (Ch. 101) - Five Colour Fumble Part 3; or, Blonde Brilliance

    Places were swapped, and without delay, Esthrielle''s arms were about her blonde babe''s midriff. EJ snuggled in, Esthrielle accepting it without question; if anything, she was happy to have found the warmth of her diminutive darling so welcoming, muted though it was. Cool flesh was still plenty warm from all her blushing and agitation, and even without such stimulus, their shared body heat clung to the ghoul like a magnet.


    They lingered this way for minutes uncounted, letting the time while away in idle silence only broken by the television''s voice. Esthrielle''s soft breaths were matched by Esper James''s, the pair silently reveling in one another''s touch and proximity. Eventually, as Esper James''s mind returned to her in earnest, she noticed that Purity still had yet to return. How long had it been? What was she up to? A bolt of iced lightning struck her heart, piercing it like a jagged icicle.


    Was Purity in trouble?


    Suddenly, her position was a source of stress. Esthrielle''s touch, once lovely and perfect and everything EJ could ever ask for, became like thorny lashes against her skin. The heady air in the room was stifling, choking the ghoul - the heat was oppressive, and the scent of perfume that lingered here made her feel sick and agitated. She needed to get up, to get dressed, to go check on Purity.


    A gentle push of her body against Est''s tangled arms spoke what EJ''s lips couldn''t bear to say. Esthrielle allowed her lover to stand without protest or question, going to rest her arms atop the rests on either side of her. EJ threw back a halfhearted smile to her Wayward girlfriend before marching straight to the bathroom, motions tense but purposefully stilled so as not to show off just how fucking frantic her heart felt. She couldn''t quite breathe, at least not easily - and by time she had swung the door shut, she was lightheaded from keeping her lungs shut tight.


    Clothes, clothes, clothes... Something her size, maybe? It was a futile effort, countless bits of waterproof fetish wear tossed into a misshapen bundle on the floor. Finally, she stumbled onto something that nearly made her laugh, and would have elicited bitter mirth from her lips had she not been in such a hurry: a nurse''s outfit, stockings and all, made of PVC.


    Fucking... Ugh. In truth, it wasn''t supposed to fit her, because on a taller woman it would have ended barely below her womanhood. For a petite girl like EJ, though? It wasn''t much better, but it was better, and the lack of sleeves and necessary tightness made it fit her all the better. The most shining silver lining, EJ thought as she wriggled her way into the form-fitting garment, was that the cap was cute. A little big for her head - it was obviously supposed to be quite small - but that was endearing to her, too.


    After a few minutes of painfully-restrained fervor, she had donned the entire thing. A quick inspection of herself in the mirror gave her all green lights, and she didn''t linger to admire the way it accentuated her modest chest, or her notable hips, or the black tips of her otherwise blonde hair, or-


    Alright, Esper James, that''s enough looking yourself over. Your lover is in danger, right?


    EJ shook herself from the momentary inspection, admonishing herself from the safety of her own mind as she opened the door. Opening the door, EJ was met with a cheering section of one: Lucretia threw a hand up and exclaimed, doing her best to hype up the nervous nurse. Zofia gave her a thumbs-up and a smile, as well, and Esthrielle offered a grin, a wink, and a licking of her steely fangs.


    All great reactions, Esper James figured - but not ones she could luxuriate in, or properly acknowledge. Another false smile was forced onto her lips as she strode towards the door that would lead to La Scission proper, though she knew she couldn''t simply dip out without saying something.


    "Ah... I''m gonna go, uh... I''m gonna go talk to Khetnep, honestly. She and Purity have been talking for a while, and, uh, it''ll be a good opportunity to see if she has a job for me. I can''t let everyone else earn their keep while I just freeload, haha..." Come on, EJ - that laugh wasn''t even convincing, baby girl. However, Zofi and Lulu simply nodded, and Est pushed herself to a stand and began to approach her blonde babe.


    "Hey, EJ, that''s a great idea - let''s go together, okay? Safer that way, less likely for a creep to get weird to you. Here, lemme toss a shirt on - I''ll pretend to be a client, you can be my toy, we''ll make a convincing pair." The suggestion was much closer to an order or a statement than a request - Esthrielle wasn''t planning on letting EJ slip out unattended, certainly not in the lion''s den they all now found themselves in. Esper James gave herself a kick, not for the first time, for her little ''testing'' stunt back at the convent. Est was being a good girlfriend, and making sure EJ wasn''t going to get herself in too deep again, so the second-living couldn''t even be mad at her for it.


    EJ nodded, waiting by the doorframe as Esthrielle went to cover her chest once more. This time, she stole the hoodie EJ had earlier been wearing - it had always been too big on EJ, but it was closer to correct on Esthrielle, at least. Once she had covered her chest, Est made her way over to EJ, who was more than grateful for the Wayward''s speed to do so.


    "Alright, EJ, let''s go. I remember the way to the office... C''mon." Est reached forth and took Esper James by the hand, movement casual but with a rigid grip that belied her own growing anxiety. That was a bittersweet comfort to the ghoul as they slipped out into the hallway, the short nurse with the wide hips and her casually dressed Jane - EJ was happy that Esthrielle realized the gravity of the situation, but also, she regretted putting such worry within the girl who had just been cuddling her. Fuck.


    "Fuck." EJ couldn''t keep it confined to thought - and Est shot a glance back at her, though the gaze didn''t linger and no words accompanied it. Rather, she simply pressed on down the hallway, practically dragging Esper James with her hurry to get to Khetnep''s office.


    Their speed-walk was dead silent, save for the soft slapping of bare feet against stone tile. To an outside observer, Esthrielle would simply seem a client eager to get down to business - and Esper James, her meal of choice for the morning. The sound of footsteps approached as they neared the elevator, a trio of bodies rounding the corner and heading straight at them: a tall man in disheveled Tsang attire, with a scantily clad woman on his right arm, and an effeminate male on his right.


    The man was far too drunk to do more than ogle Esper James as he approached, licking his fangs openly as his troupe neared the duo - but the performers on either one of his arms, clinging to his openly-groping limbs, let their respective gazes linger a bit too long to pass it off as mere coincidence, or even lust. As the two parties drew near to contact, Esthrielle took the initiative, pulling EJ close with a defensive nature reserved for one protecting a favored plaything; the man and his arm-candy stopped at the behest of their leader, executive leaning low to get eye-level with EJ.


    "Haha, h-hey, heyyy, you... Y''look like that, th''fuckin''... Blonde little bitch Judash''s lookin'' fer... Baha, bwahaha-ha-ha...!" He grinned from ear to ear, intoxicant only accentuating the boldness offered from his swollen ego. The executive looked up at Esthrielle, whose tense expression belied her eagerness to sock the bastard in his vampiric fangs, though she kept her hands at her side.


    "Hmm, hey, girlie, I... Haha, I think maybe... Maybe you take thish li''l piece a'' ass up to HQ, eh~? Try''n tell''m you got the real Eshper James? Maybe Miss Aligarry''ll even let ya'' watch''m, eheh, watch''m roast ''er..." The executive cackled as though this was an excellent bit of comedy, and his attendants followed along, lavishing the drunken deviant with soft coos and comments on his sense of humor. He leaned back, then, guffawing with his whole portly body, eyes shut tight as they wept tears of mirth. The male of his mid-morning treats cast an apologetic look down at Esper James, giving his head a subtle jerk towards the hallway behind him.The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    Esthrielle nodded to the prostitute, dragging EJ past the obstructing trio and doing her best not to literally race down the hallway. They rounded the corner and slowed again, trying to resume the strained, semi-casual pace they had earlier favored. Esthrielle turned her head down to look at EJ as they walked, hoping to say something to her - but EJ beat her to the punch.


    "Fuck that guy. I f-fucking..." Rage. Rage burned like a branding iron in Esper James''s chest, barely suppressed by the presence of observers to what would have otherwise been a vicious mauling. Every inch of her was atremble with molten fury, and indignance, and an instability that was as unfamiliar to her as it was dreadful. Thoughts whirled in her brainpan like a tornado at full tilt, composed almost wholly of predisposition towards ferocious, unthinkable violence, and yet...


    ...yet, within the burning whirl, a polar remnant sat at its eye. Judas would never burn her - she''d never kill the blonde, right? If it ever came down to it, Judas would do plenty of terrible things - and sure, EJ had to admit, Judas might give her a little death, la petite mort both literal and figurative. But, true death? Immolation? She''d never do something like that...


    In an instant, her fangs were on her tongue, digging in and piercing cool flesh. Not fully through, she restrained herself enough to keep from fully biting it off, but she knew these thoughts were bad. Her jaw shook with restrained desire, and she felt her grip over the intrusive need to hurt herself slipping - until, suddenly, Esthrielle was pressing the blonde to herself with as much force as she could muster without causing harm.


    "EJ! Esper James, hey, hey, it''s okay! It''s okay, you''re okay, that fucker''s just a drunk piece of shit...! Don''t, don''t do anything you''ll regret, babe...! Hey, hey, look at me, look..." Est was quick to comfort her beloved, words whispered but fervent, holding the blonde so close that EJ could feel her partner''s heartbeat. Esper James turned her face upwards, looking to the other woman even as tears began to well and sting her ducts with their saline tinge. Est''s eyes were wide, her face wracked with a desperation that EJ had never seen on it before - and just like that, thoughts of Judas, and the man in the hall, and hurting herself, were cast out as evil spirits.


    "...Est, hey... I-I''m, uh, I''m okay. I''m okay, I promise, I... Phew, God, fuck... I-I just..." Just what, Esper James? The ghoulish girl swallowed hard, clenching her eyes shut hard and steeling herself to continue. Still shaking, her arms wrapped around Esthrielle''s torso, and EJ found herself taking comfort in just how warm her lover was... How alive, how real, she felt. Everything EJ sometimes felt that she herself was not.


    Est nodded, knowing that there would be no continuation to the thought, nor expecting there to be one.


    Esper James buried her face into Esthrielle''s chest, beginning to sob openly, muffled by thick cloth and living flesh. The blood in her mouth was swallowed as it came - none so much as if she had bitten fully through, but neither was it a modest amount. Regardless, she was sure that the damp spot of warmth she was leaving on Esthrielle''s clothing was composed of more than her sorrow alone. Something told her that Est, too, knew this - and still she held her lover tightly, shushing and cooing softly, a hand going up to gently stroke EJ''s hair.


    A handful of minutes passed by like this; thankfully, the hallway was theirs alone, all the way until Esper James had wrung herself dry of the pain that her heart once held. She pulled away only by centimeters, looking up towards Esthrielle again, the red flecks of her irises now accompanied by the redness of tears. A few hot breaths, an aborted attempt at speech, a heavy swallow - and then she spoke once more, timidly smiling as she did.


    "Hah... Heheh, ha... Yeah, okay. I''m, er, I''m okay now, for real. Come on - we''ve... We''ve gotta go get Purity. Find her, at least. I think I... I''ve got something new to talk to Khetnep about." Her smile was bolstered with each word, as was her determination. The cracks in her heart were sealed, for the moment, with affection''s molten gold, hardening into something perhaps more beautiful than before shattering came.


    Esthrielle nodded, chancing a smile of her own, before going to plant a loving kiss on the ghoul''s upturned forehead. That smile, that genuine show of love and acknowledgement, almost did more than the embrace - almost. It was still plenty good, though. "Yeah. Let''s go find Purity. C''mon."


    They began down the hallway once again, unmolested as they found the stairwell to the staff section of this den of sin. The stairwell was reached without delay, and after a second round of the arduous ascent from their initial arrival at La Scission, that foreboding corridor to Khetnep''s office loomed once more. Esper James almost chuckled to herself as she took step after step, legs beginning to burn but in a way she was all too familiar with - turned out living in Kehler Complex had been good for her, after all. Taught her how to push down the pain in her calves, at least.


    Their pace was slowed as they neared Khetnep''s office door, each woman holding a shared yet unspoken trepidation within them.


    For Esper James, her determination''s flame sputtered like a dying gaslight, tempered by theories of Khetnep''s cruelty. She had been pretty nice, it was true - nice, a bit scary and happy to flex her power and dominance and aura, but nice regardless. And yet, Purity had hammered home that, despite her outward kindness on their first meeting, she was a woman to fear.


    The anecdote about how Khetnep even got out of the South played again in EJ''s head, a play of imagination performed in a theatre of thought and conjecture. Khetnep, imposing woman that she was, killing or subduing the crew of a PADE freight vessel... Making landfall somewhere on the UNAC''d eastern coast... Making her way to Vitus, dying willingly and in such a way that betrayal either wasn''t possible or simply wasn''t considered... and then, of course, the conclusion.


    Eating everyone that had thrown their hat in with her, simply as a display of self-serving power. The ultimate indulgence for a second-living, and an atrocity so foul that its mere potential to be true made Esper James chill with fear. She thought back to her own tangles with human flesh, lingering on the officer she had pounced on with Esthrielle.


    It had been so succulent, so impossibly savory, and meaty, and rich; the fat had been creamy, the blood had been tangy, the muscle and sinew more filling and luscious than any other meal she had ever had. And yet, she had only been able to pull herself away after she''d glutted herself on the dead man''s body - and only then, because Esthrielle had interrupted her. A part of her was afraid of the truth she knew, the truth that if Est hadn''t been there?


    EJ would have eaten till only bones remained, and those would have been left merely for her lack of molars.


    It was chilling, to consider the darkness that lay within one''s own heart when inhibitions were cast away. The players bowed and the stage was darkened as Est finally dragged her in front of the door itself, releasing a sigh half borne of worry, and half of acceptance of what may lay beyond. She leaned down slightly, speaking in a hushed tone just above a whisper.


    "Okay. I''ll... I''ll let you do the talking, EJ, you''re second-living. You''re both ghouls, right? That''s gotta count for something, more than an ex-Knight busting in and making demands. That work for you?" Est was back in the same sort of mission mindset as when she had been in the Knights'' kill squads - weighing objective truths and advantages over her own feelings or premonitions. If the atmosphere hadn''t been so tense, Esper James would''ve thought it kind of charming, seeing the way she naturally fell into this sort of operator mindset.


    EJ nodded, a single bob that tousled her long blonde locks. Her... very long blonde locks. Distractible as always, EJ took a moment to take note of the way they hung... cornsilk blonde strands with inky tips, though those tips hung all the way to her waist now. Had they always been so-?


    Train of thought was interrupted by the sound of laughter through the door - Khetnep''s, by the sound of it, deep and husky and luxurious, dark velvet that wrapped a listener up in sinful warmth. Esper James pinched herself, vowing to look at her stupid fucking hair later, in the mirror of the bedroom - for now, she needed to make an entrance.


    No knocking this time - no decorum, no deference, simply a pair of women worried for their third. EJ turned the handle and swung the door, striding in with as much false confidence as she could muster. Her eyes met those of the woman behind the desk without pause, words pouring forth unbidden, her mind taking a back seat as her heart and soul did the talking.


    "Khetnep, where the hell is Purity?"


    Bold, little ghoul. Very bold.

 Act Five (Ch. 102) - Five Colour Fumble Part Four; or, Raven Ravisher

    Back in the room, Lulu had taken it upon herself to... make the pair of women comfy, as it were.


    First things first? The bed was dirty. Not even dirty in the sense of ''oh, there''re some crumbs on it'', or something so minor. Esthrielle alone had made a mess of things notable enough to require mindful avoidance; combined, the trio of now-absent occupants had made it all a bit more difficult for the pious pair to avoid ''contaminants''.


    Lucretia snickered to herself as she stood, slipping free of Zofia without so much as a word of warning. ''Contaminants,'' she thought. That was a laugh - as if Lucretia had never partaken in a little peach-mashing in her life. She was sure the mother abbess wouldn''t have seen the irony, though - not that Lulu cared what that control freak thought anymore.


    Big violet eyes flickered over towards the nun atop the bed, silently drinking in her timidness. Lulu''s lips threatened to part even wider as amusement welled below the surface, but she kept it suppressed - for now. It simply wouldn''t do, for a predator to allow its prey to know of its intent. And so, she kept her lips in a tight little smirk, never spreading much wider than a cordial smile between friends... Not yet, at least.


    Zofia said nothing, simply watching her closest companion as the other woman drifted across the floor. Lulu had pinged the room earlier, when they first arrived, to check for any false walls or hidden compartments - and, as it were, there was one: a storage shelf disguised as part of the wall, for tucking away spare bed dressings. It never hurt to be prepared, it would seem, and in a brothel, who knew what sort of things might happen that would necessitate a change of sheets?


    That, however, was not something Lulu wished to dwell upon.


    She approached the concealed cubby, databank implants reminding her exactly where she had seen the button to open it. With a press, the thin faux-wall slat retracted into the rest of the pinkish wall, presenting the replacement bedspread; Lucretia noted, with a wry chuckle, that it was identical to the current fixings.


    Zofi hopped up as soon as she saw Lulu draw the comforter out of its hiding spot, rushing to help without hesitation - but, she only managed to get two steps towards Lulu before an ivory-gloved hand was raised palm-out. Zofia stopped in her tracks as if someone had hit ''pause'' on her DVD player, artificial eyes unblinking as they waited for Lulu to explain. Thankfully, their wait was brief.


    "Ah, ah, ah, Zofi. Stop right there. Look... down. At yourself. What... are you dressed as?" The words and their cadence came in teasing lilt, the corner of Lucretia''s smirk tweaking upward to drive the dagger that much deeper. Zofia, good little prey that she was, did as she was instructed; her head tilted downwards, gaze following with, so she might regard herself. Of course, she already knew what she looked like - it was the same as she had looked for the past few years. Same habit, same augmentations, same prosthesis, same pale synthetic skin and wiry, unassuming frame.


    If her body wasn''t mostly synthetic, one might have passed her off as the kind of girl who spent her time on the computer or in bed, hiding from the sunlight and fresh air of the outdoors. A recluse, perhaps, and more than a touch socially awkward. She swallowed a twinge of impotent self-admonishment that ''they'' may been right.


    "A... A nun, I guess... A nun. I look like a nun, Lulu. I... I mean, Khetnep hasn''t been able to get us new clothes yet, though, and this is all I''ve really got... I-I don''t, uh, I don''t have the confidence to wear one of the costumes, like...-" She trailed off, raising her head as she did - though the trailing of it was cut clean through by the sight of Lulu''s expression.


    Now was the perfect time for a wolf to show its fangs, Lucretia figured. The game was afoot, Zofia was already putting her insecurities on display, and their trio of roomies would probably be away for... Long enough. That was all that mattered, really - that they''d be away for long enough that the hunting hound could get her maw around the gentle rabbit''s throat.


    "Exactly, Zofi. You are a nun - a woman of the cloth. This isn''t a convent, a church, a cathedral... It''s about as unholy a place as one could ever find, without pentagrams and virgin sacrifices. And, frankly?" Lulu snickered now, her smile fading so that she might purse her lips and smack them. It wasn''t quite a blown kiss, or a kiss at all - but the way it sent genuine fear into Zofia''s heart, and weakened her knees? It may damn well have been.


    Lulu''s smirk returned now as a grin, wide and mischievous in a way that struck Zofi as distinctly foreboding. Lulu continued on, now, towards the bed - her gaze turned away to look where she was going, but once she was bedside, she regarded Zofia anew.


    "I think they do sacrifice virgins here, in a sense...~"


    Wwwink. Lucretia allowed her left eye to droop shut in a distinctly lascivious gesture, her smile never faltering even as Zofi''s heart tried to. The brunette swallowed hard once more, blinking rapidly to try and shoo away troubling, obscene thoughts, and to re-focus her mind. The efficacy of the attempt was minimal, to say the least - she, like Est and Lucretia, had opted not to filter the airborne aphrodisiac from her respiratory intake. While she had done so in what had been meant as a show of solidarity with her fellow ex-nuns, now... She was this close to praying for salvation.


    Lulu began to do her maid''s duty, dropping the bedstuff and beginning to strip away the current dressings. Still-damp sheets and comforter were balled up and tossed in record speed, courtesy of tireless, synthetic limbs - and without delay, she had begun to adorn the mattress once more.


    Zofia''s head was spinning like a top. Lulu had been so... aggressive ever since they left the convent. Aggressive in a distinctly romantic, and sexual, fashion - something Zofi had never really received from her back then, when they were still nuns. Lulu had been nice to her, sure, but... Well, never any more than the occasional greeting in the hall, or a smile at dinner, or a passed bottle of soap in the showers. The only thing she could truly think of was Lucretia being... Well, there was that book club she had tried to start when she first arrived. Lulu had been the only one to show up.


    But... That alone wasn''t nearly enough to warrant this sudden shift, was it? Was Zofia worse with people than she had thought? She''d never been diagnosed, but she - and her parents - had always figured something was up... Was this just another case of her missing social cues? Signs she should have seen? Signs a different girl, a normal girl, would have-


    "Zo-fi-i-i. Hey, earth to Zofia-a-a. Heart too busy being lodged in your throat? You look like your brain got hit with a radio jammer, boo, ha-ha-ha~!" Lucretia cackled like an archetypal villainess, left hand lazily cast up to partially conceal her laughter. She began to stride towards her prey with a muted intensity, holding herself back from seeming overeager - the building anticipation, however, nullified any attempt at real restraint. A Goldilocks sort of pace, then - just right.


    Zofi couldn''t answer immediately. Her heart may not have been in her throat, like, Lulu had said - but, her brain was certainly scrambled. Thoughts pinged about like ricocheting gunfire, leaving dents on the walls of her skull with every painful strike. She opened her mouth once, twice, thrice, attempting to speak each time, and finding the words dying before they could even live.


    Lucretia slowed her gait to a standstill as she came into arm''s reach of Zofia, standing there for a moment to make a display of looking the other woman over. Shamelessly, Lucretia leaned side to side, obviously getting a look at Zofia''s various assets without so much as a hint of subtlety. Once the examination was complete, Lulu''s stance straightened - and then she let her pelvis cock to the side, hip popping out to accentuate her own curves. Zofia couldn''t help but notice how much less modest Lulu''s were than her own.


    "I''ll take your dead silence as a ''yes, Miss Lucretia, I am awestruck by your beauty and panache''. Good! Good, good, good - you''re learning so much already, and I''m so very proud of you~" Lulu''s left arm was extended, hand placed palm-down atop the ex-researcher''s crown, patting her with sort of the demeaning condescension reserved for very small and dumb children.


    Zofia allowed herself to blush, colour rushing to her cheeks in a bloom of cherry-red shame and guilty delight. The praise was false, she knew that - no one had ever praised her legitimately, never in her life, except maybe at art school. Lucretia''s syrupy, mocking tone only rubbed salt in the wound; thankfully, Zofia''s dignity was nigh upon nonexistent at this point in life. However... Hearing the words still felt good, still felt like a reward, and the patting? A gesture usually bestowed to imbeciles, animals, and those too young to know any better?


    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    Zofia felt a tightness in her core, as if her midriff was drawing in upon itself. Her chest followed suit, a bowstring in her sternum pulling taut and immediately pleading for release. Zofia suddenly felt small, so very small, powerless and diminutive and manipulable... She wished the lights were off so that Lulu couldn''t see her, but would have hated it if Lulu didn''t see. A whine forced its way up her throat and out her nose, though she at least succeeded in keeping it from being too loud.


    Lucretia''s eyes narrowed, a sadistic sense of satisfaction pouring into every fibre of her being. Quick as a flash, she saved the audio file of Zofi''s pathetic little whine - for later use, of course. While the ravenette wished she could pump her fist in celebration of this milestone, she had more important matters to attend to. Matters, she thought, ''like pushing Zofi''s head even further beneath the waves...~''


    "Hmmm... What was that sound, Zofi? Hmm? Am I upsetting you? I''m sorry - I''ll stop, I know you don''t like being touched..." Lucretia faked a remorseful pout, smile disappearing with the downturn of her lips and eyes. She drew back her hand and took a step away, playing up the false regret to a degree that would have made a Hollywood director cheer aloud. Before Zofia could rebuke or refute her, Lulu curtsied and turned away, sure to completely hide her face - so that the faux-pout might disappear, and her sinister mirth might take center-stage once more.


    The tension and vulnerability in Zofia''s body melted away in an instant, replaced now by fear and regret and self-reprimand. Why the fuck couldn''t she say anything?! Why hadn''t she said something to Lulu - something, anything, instead of fucking whimpering like an idiot?! Lulu fumbled words like a drunk fumbles their car keys, desperate to find the ignition of an apology even if it may be ill-advised.


    "No! N-No, no, er, gah...! Fuck...! N-no, no, Lulu, I...! I''m sorry, I''m sorry, I-I''m not mad at you, it... It wasn''t me being upset! I promise! I..." Zofia''s forced outburst slowed to a crawl in the same way of a volcano, verbal eruption trickling down to mere lava to gently roll down her hillside. Zofi reached out, catching Lulu by the shoulder and holding her there - and, prompted by Lulu starting to return to Zofi, the ex-researcher pulled her back. In the blink of an eye, Zofia was nearly holding Lulu; she would have been, frankly, had Lulu not held herself a mere inch away.


    Before Zofia could truly process her own actions, much less Lucretia''s, the black-and-purple-haired made an about-face. In an instant, both women were face-to-face, so treacherously, dangerously, temptingly close... And yet, as far as Zofi could feel, they may as well be separated by a foot of concrete.


    Until Zofia leaned up, without warning, and pressed their lips together. No wall in the world could exist that would allow such a gesture - nor did Zofi have the mental faculties to try and imagine one.


    Soft lotus-pink lips firmly caressed thin and pale ones, their respective owners falling into an embrace imposed by only half of the equation. The maid''s hands were deft and without delay; she cast one arm around the centre of her nun''s back, the opposite hand rising to cradle Zofia''s head. Hesitation was death, as they said, and the only death Lulu was looking for was particularly petite.


    Continuing her amorous blitz, Lucretia''s tongue slipped between Zofia''s lips before the other woman even had the mental wherewithal to become self-conscious enough to recoil. Zofia could barely register the sounds coming out of her as she allowed her eyes to shut, devoting every bit of willpower towards... Towards what?


    The Pole realized now that, well... She wasn''t sure why she would want to pull away. Her body was more honest than she could have ever been, it would seem - the warmth in her lap and the tension in her core and chest were the biological equivalent of writing on the wall, and the whining? The pathetic, submissive, needful mewling she had fallen so easily, so naturally, into? The way she wanted to sink into Lucretia''s embrace, wanted to let her do anything and everything she wanted without even needing to ask?


    God, fuck, why had she been so stupid?


    She''d been in... In denial. Denial this whole time, ever since they left the convent - even longer, if she was honest with herself. The book club thing? Lucretia hadn''t even read her damn copy. Lulu had been the only one other than the mother abbess to ever get Zofi a gift for her birthday, or Christmas... There had been a year where Lulu implied she had a gift for Valentine''s Day, but any time Zofi tried to bring it up, the other woman always said she''d forgotten it in her room. Yeah-fucking-right.


    Zofi would have been pissed off at herself if she had had time to be - but, feeling Lucretia''s fingers take hold of the back of Zofi''s habit, the ex-artist was reminded of what was happening. She was reminded of where she was, what she was doing, and who she was doing it with - all things that nearly managed to send her back into her blissful daze.


    Lucretia wasted no time in letting Zofia know who was in charge of their kiss: her tongue explored freely and without fear of rebuke, becoming bolder and bolder with every long, desperate moan her partner made. Zofi made no attempt to stop her or pull away in the slightest, the world around her all but forgotten as soon as she put her arms around Zofia in a lustful reflection.


    Lulu coaxed her playmate to the freshly-made bed, putting her own chest to Zofia''s to push the both of them - back and forth, respectively - to a more horizontal position. Like this, Lucretia didn''t need to hold Zofi so intently; instead, she put a hand on either side of Zofia''s head, using them to help herself up onto the bed. Zofia scrambled to push herself up further onto the mattress, eyes reopened and wide with fear, anticipation, and a sort of inexperienced dread. She said nothing, lower lip trembling but unable to even begin forming words. That was okay, though - for what came next, Lulu didn''t need her to speak.


    One Zofia was completely on the bed, Lucretia - who had been on all fours, padding along with her prey to keep close - set herself down onto the brunette''s lap. She sat up in some approximation of ''straight'', hands on her own hips, looking down at her plaything with an expression which dripped satisfaction and barely-restrained lust.


    "Mmnh... Fuck, Zofi... You taste good. Is that why they don''t let nuns fuck? Because once someone got a taste, they''d never be able to go back?" A hand went up and over Lucretia''s mouth once more, that same villainess giggle bouncing out with every rise and fall of the field agent''s chest.


    Zofia felt pressed into the bed by more than just Lucretia''s weight, her eyes eating up every minute detail of what she was seeing, in direct juxtaposition to the tremble of her hands and heart. After a moment, Zofi nodded - and for her efforts she was rewarded, Lucretia licking her lips with the deliberate slowness and relish of a satisfied diner. She felt another pitiful whimper form and push its way out of her chest as Lulu leaned back down, hands flanking Zofi''s head, their faces inches apart.


    Lulu was about to say something - something really filthy, to completely melt her little nun - when a series of vibrations caught her attention. Even though Lulu''s active mind may been focused on turning Zofia into a bitch in heat, she wasn''t foolish, nor forgetful - she had left her passive perception systems active, just in case. ''In case'', as it turned out, might just be now.


    The vibrations were in line with footsteps - dress shoes and high heels, one pair of the former, two pairs of the latter. They were headed down the hallway, and... They were close, worryingly close, to the door. This gave Lulu momentary pause, but after less than a second of contemplation, she decided not to worry about it. She had more important shit to be worrying about, anyways.


    "Mmmnh... Your lips taste great, bitch... Your tongue, too, but... What about the rest of you~? I think, maybe, I''ll try you all the way down, then I''ll fucking eat my way back up~"


    Zofia nearly fainted at that proposition, eyes shutting tight as she cocked her head aside, exposing a bare and vulnerable neck to Lucretia. That vulnerability was put to use almost immediately, Lulu''s lips and then tongue and then teeth taking up residence, but this, too, wasn''t meant to last.


    The handle to their room jiggled. Outside the door, a pair of voices - one feminine, one androgynous, both concerned - spoke up, tone hushed but drenched in worry. A third voice, louder than the former two, popped up; with it came the most enormous "Shut the fuck up!" that Lulu had ever heard. Before Lulu was willing to commit to getting up and off of Zofia, and potentially ruining the mood, the door began to open. Within the doorway now stood a portly Tsang executive, flanked by a pair of brothel babes: a tall curvy woman, and a short, effeminate man.


    The executive''s pants were at his knees, and the workers were trying to pull him back into the hallway - but they couldn''t be nearly forceful enough with him to truly remove him, not without damaging him. His visible erection was held back only by a pair of white boxers with little purple hearts adorning it - and when he saw Lulu and Lucretia, there was a repulsive, visible twitch.


    "Oh-ho-ho-ho-ho! Fu-huck yeah! Jahgckpot! I get six holesh t''fuhck an'' a pair''a dykes t''watch?! This plashe''s great!"


    Lucretia would have vomited, had she not been so infuriated - and, had Zofia not pushed her off in the blink of an eye.

 Act Five (Ch. 103) - Five Colour Fumble Part Five; or, Chivalry in Chocolate

    The drunkard staggered into the room unbidden, his bleary eyes surveying the scene - the freshly-changed bed, the movie on the television, the lived-in quality of the room. To him, surely it looked as if the women on the bed had been waiting for his arrival; perhaps for quite some time, even. Everything looked great... including the girls on the bed. Well, to be fair, only one of those women was still on the bed - Zofia had risen to her feet in the blink of an eye. Not that he was paying attention, of course.


    Beneath synthetic skin, within a heart still made of meat, rage burned hotter than a crematory oven. Finally, finally, things had been on the upswing for the ex-Knight... She had a romantic prospect! She had friends! She was free of the life forced upon her by her homeland, by her fucking parents, in the name of stupid social clout! She hadn''t been able to consider it for a long time, of course - the way she was used like a fucking pawn in some grand game of chess, for the benefit of others. Her own thoughts, her feelings, her dreams... all cast aside like so much fucking chaff, because they weren''t conducive to a ridiculous shadow war framed as a holy duty.


    She had been molded into a killer for others'' benefit, and now that she had finally found some semblance of salvation from that life, here was some dumb fucker here to ruin it.


    She was in front of the executive in the blink of an eye, faster than Lulu or the prostitutes could react to. She couldn''t stop herself from what happened next - her body moved on its own, it felt like, and even if she could''ve intervened? She wasn''t sure she would have.


    Her left hand took hold of the man''s tie, yanking him down to his knees with the force of a hydraulic press. In the back of her head she could hear Lulu start to yell, messages flooding in from her comms suite, but Zofia couldn''t bring herself to care. Not now. Not this time. Her body had been hand-crafted for one purpose: killing the second-living. She had never taken pleasure in her work; this time, however, she knew there would be catharsis to it.


    Her right hand raised. The executive''s expression shifted in slow motion, from a smug grin to a broad, excited smile - he hadn''t been expecting to get dominated by a nun tonight, but he wasn''t averse to it. The prostitutes realized then what was happening; rather, they realized what was about to happen. The slender male shot a hand out, palm outstretched, beginning to shout in protest; the tall woman simply gasped, eyes wide but refusing to look away.


    The crunch was exquisite. Zofia, the shy little virgin, had never fucked before - this, however, was what she imagined a real orgasm felt like. The satisfaction of her fist hurtling down, an avenging comet crashing to Earth, was unparalleled - the spray of black blood and teeth was like the wetness of a lover. Seeing the aftermath - how his jaw hung awkwardly, snapped off on one side, mouth missing a fistful of teeth and leaking blood - was the afterglow.


    The blow was so stunning, so righteous in its destructive power, that the drunken lout''s brain couldn''t process the pain at first - and this was to Zofia''s benefit. It gave her time to wind back for a second haymaker, her knuckles gleaming with someone else''s blood. Like a proper farmhand, the hay was made - the audience for her fury bore witness to a convex becoming concave, the executive''s forehead Zofi''s new target.


    A sickening squelch was underlined by one final cry of protest from the twink at the doorframe; Lucretia''s comms messages had stopped completely, their sender resigned in her acceptance that she could not stop Zofia. There was no chance, of course; nothing short of an act of God could have halted Zofi''s wrath.


    The nun stood there, trembling, chest heaving as she panted with restrained fury and the wake of adrenaline''s kiss. There was temptation to strike him again, though he was already dead - and if he wasn''t dead, he was dying so quickly and horribly that another punch would have made no difference.


    Zofia''s knees suddenly felt weak, her whole body beginning to wick away at the adrenal burst she had undergone. Subsystems within her prosthesis kept it from leaving too quickly; she didn''t fall, at least, but she certainly didn''t have the strength she once did. At least, she didn''t feel like she did. Staring down at the man''s gurgling pit that had once been a face, bubbling with black blood as his lungs emptied their air... The realization of what she had just done hit her, and she couldn''t stop the tears that began to well.


    She released her grip on the dead man''s tie, letting him flop to the ground with a lame thud. Just as she began to sob, a pair of arms went about her midsection, pulling her back a half-step. Lucretia''s face buried itself into her neck, whispering a flurry of shaky, desperate placations, doing her best to break through Zofia''s sudden shock to try and keep her from outright breakdown.


    At the doorway, the warm bodies were shockingly silent - composed, even, in the face of outright murder. The woman simply sighed, putting her hands on her hips and looking down to her companion. In turn, the shorter of the pair looked up at her; then, coming to a silent agreement, he turned to regard Lulu and Zofia. His expression was surprisingly apologetic, given the circumstances... but, his awkward smile felt like he was doing his best to comfort them, rather than admonish them.


    "H-Hey, uh... Haha, ah... Killing a bisexual dude just because he''s, uh, flirting with you? What are you, eheh... h-homophobic?"


    The joke landed as well as one would expect. His friend whacked him on the back of the head, mask of resignation shifting instantaneously to a withering scowl. "Hey, you stupid fucker! No! Not the time for jokes! Ugh... Do I need to do everything?"


    The whacked male winced at the scolding, but didn''t try and rebuke her chastising.


    The woman rolled her eyes, taking a few steps towards Zofi and Lulu. The Easterners were both in a state of shock about these strangers'' comparatively cool reaction to the turn this had all taken; Lulu''s mouth was agape, and Zofia stared as if they were going to attack her at any moment. However, the anticipated assault never arrived - rather, she grabbed the executive''s body by the arm, hoisting him with surprising strength and beginning to head towards the bathroom.


    "C''mon. Cinna, get in here - help me with this. You two, you... Random women, I guess. You two must be Khetnep''s guests, right? Close the door. Let''s talk."


    Cinna followed her without a second thought, mumbling apologies and excuses the whole way. The door was left wide open, a humid air breezing in from the simulated street; it took Zofi and Lulu a moment to even react, much less do as instructed. However, the thud of a currently-lifeless body being dropped into the bathtub was enough to snap them out of their respective shocks. Zofi looked down at her blood-drenched hand, swallowing hard; Lucretia took it upon herself to head for the door, swinging it closed with as much haste as she could muster without slamming it.


    What was happening? Was this really what the people of Vitus were like? They see a person be slain right before their eyes, and rather than be horrified, or even distraught... they seemed, well, peeved? As though it was an inconvenience to them?


    It was an inconvenience to a society for which death was an interlude, not a permanence, Zofi figured. It was the best reasoning she could come up with, at least, and she fucking needed some sort of explanation to keep herself from freaking out. In the bathroom, the sound of a running faucet added further bewildering normalcy to the whole situation; Zofi''s head snapped towards the sound, still leery enough of any outside stimuli that she couldn''t help but assume it was a threat.


    The prostitutes were washing their hands. Nothing threatening, nothing malicious, nothing violent or worrisome... just an act of removal, letting the executive''s inky fluid run down the drain. Washing her hands sounded good right now... Already, the air had begun to congeal the thick, gritty substance on her hand into a more cumbersome - and disgusting - state.


    The Pole began to walk over, every movement wracked with trepidation and doubt. Only when Lucretia made a swift approach, whisking Zofi towards the bathroom, did any confidence embolden her motions; even then, it was almost entirely bluster.


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    Could she really have been a field agent? Maybe she was better off as a researcher, like she had been assigned.


    The Waywards slipped into the bathroom, bare feet making gentle sounds upon the tiled floor. Cinna and his coworker were now sitting on the edge of the tub - the woman had drawn a knife, and was savaging the executive''s body with stabs and slices, rending him down to a grotesque sort of confetti. Her face, however, showed no signs of malice or rage; rather, she simply seemed annoyed by the whole process.


    Cinna''s face was as apologetic as ever, brown hair falling in silken sheets across his similarly-toned physique. Dressed in naught but a well-fitting bunny suit, bunny-eared headband, and a pair of black platform heels (that he was still short in spite of), he didn''t exactly portray the sort of person who would stay so cool in the face of such violence. However, his soft voice rose from glossed lips to try and set the Easterner''s minds at ease.


    "Hey...! Uh, haha... Wow. Nice, uh, nice punches, boo - you''re really strong. What are you? Like, a vampire, but with eye replacements? A-And... And teeth replacements... I, uh..." As he continued on, he came to the same realization his coworker had come to in the doorway. The women in black standing before him were anything but second-living.


    As for his companion, Zofi finally had calmed down enough to get a good look at her. Long ivory hair had been done up in a loose bun, a pair of spiral-shaped silver needles piercing it in an X; her skin was almost as pale as her hair - as far as skin could go, anyways - and her eyes were wide, sharp, and possessed of a striking sapphire hue. Her pupils, however, caught Zofi''s attention immediately; they were those of a serpent, and now found themselves dilated to take in Khetnep''s guests.


    She smacked her purple-painted lips and crossed her arms, red-and-black qipao barely rustling from the motion. "Cinna? Shut up."


    The effeminate escort did as he was told, eyes dropping to the floor as he offered a timid nod to the woman. She, on the other hand, took a moment to look Zofia and Lucretia up and down; only once she was satisfied with her observation did she speak again.


    "So. Khetnep''s guests. Good to meet you - I''m Camilla, call me Cammy. Let''s go over a few things really quickly - don''t interrupt, and there won''t be any problems. What I''m about to say is all very important." She waited for a moment, arching a brow expectantly; Zofia nodded rapidly, fervently, while Lucretia only gave a lame thumbs up.


    "Good!" Camilla continued, a smug grin coming over her. Her teeth were revealed, then - human incisors and molars, but with the thick pillar canines of a vampire. She straightened up her position, casting a single glance over to Cinna before returning her gaze to the mechanized murderers.


    "Firstly? You have just killed a man of moderate importance. Not quite middling, but not quite Tsang himself. Okay? Okay. Now, twenty years ago, that might''ve been a problem..." She diverted her attentions to the corpse in the tub, leaking organic oil from every single wound she had opened. "This piece of shit is... Well, expendable. Everyone in Tsang is, save for one or two notables. Tsang himself, yes, and then his right-hand... Judas Alighieri. There are others that would cause upset, but..."


    Cammy laughed, short and harsh, like the bark of a hunting hound. "Fuck ''em. Zhichen Tsang could find, or make, replacements. And in Vitus? People die all the time."


    Reaching into the keyhole of her dress, she drew out a pack of Tsang brand cigarettes, and a thin flip-top lighter. The cigarette was put between her lips, but the lighter was held out for Cinna - who, ever the pushover, took it and gave her a light. As reward, she blew a ring of smoke into his face, which he eagerly breathed in.


    "But. Thing is, this dude didn''t pay to die. He paid for Cinna and I to work his rod like slaves in some back-alley pimpshow and then keep our mouths shut that we had ever seen him." Puff. Blow. Puff. Blow. She puffed out her chest for Cinna, ensuring the keyhole of her qipao was prominent. He took the cue like a good boy, timidly pushing the lighter back into her cleavage - deep enough that no one would see it at a glance. Her smile returned, and she offered her counterpart a wink. Then, she turned back to Lulu and Zofi, continuing with her monologue.


    "Tsang doesn''t like its employees hanging around La Scission - but they can''t really stop them without acknowledging how widespread criminality is here in Vitus. This place is their little kingdom, but even the most loyal and patriotic courtiers need their cocks sucked sometimes, you know?" An extra-long drag on her cigarette came, then, as if to emphasize the mental imagery.


    "But," she continued, "This man is now dead. We can deal with that. Executives have been dying left and right in recent years, from yourselves, the Revenants, people like Khetnep... Hell, the odd lone actor from the underclasses, sometimes. Some people manage to save enough cash to get some silver bullets and a cheap handgun, and they make it happen."


    Zofia and Lulu listened intently, the former female offering a dumb nod in response, the latter''s own motion possessed of a sense of familiarity. Made sense that Lulu would know this sort of shit, Zofi thought - she had been out mingling with Vitus''s citizenship more than most other Easterners ever even considered. However... It still felt odd that this sort of info hadn''t been disseminated by the mother abbess - it felt apt to know that there was such unrest in the city. Right?


    Zofia''s brow furrowed; now wasn''t the time to think about that stuff. Later, she''d speak with Lulu about it.


    Cammy grabbed the knife she''d been using off the edge of the tub, raising it up and driving it down into the corpse''s mangled meat. "We can get rid of the body. Make it like he never even existed. Tsang won''t even put out a missing-persons alert about him; they''re too busy searching for that blonde girl. Speaking of, you''ve gotta get a disguise for her."


    Lulu''s mouth opened in protest almost immediately, raising her right hand in an accompanying gesture; Camilla waved her down, shaking her head and tutting, moments away from a chuckle. "No, no, chill out. I won''t snitch. No one in La Scission was told; no one knows but Cinna and I, and Khetnep. But, I mean, come the fuck on - we passed her in the hallway in a cute little nurse getup, hanging off of some white-haired dyke with muscles you don''t really get when you''re reborn. Her face is everywhere in town - get her some hair dye or something, please?"


    That was enough to appease Lucretia, and she backed down. Zofia hadn''t been as quick to protest as her own comrade, but now that the daze of this whole situation had truly passed, she supposed Cammy had a point. EJ''s visage was plastered all around Vitus, apparently - and there was a massive reward for her whereabouts. Surely a wig or something was the least they could do.


    Cammy started up once more - this time, her tone implied this was the closing of her one-sided conversation. "So. I''ll tell Khetnep what happened, we''ll deal with this guy and get you some towels and shit to clean up - don''t worry, the carpet''s stain-proof - and it''ll all be okay. But."


    That ''but'' held the weight of the world, and Atlas was only able to hold it up for so much longer. Zofia adjusted her stance, straightening her back and putting an arm around Lucretia''s back; she put on a brave face, the acceptance of what had taken place giving her exactly what she needed to face Cammy''s terms and conditions without fear. Resignation, maybe, and regret that it had come to this... but no fear. She was starting to get really fucking tired of being so afraid all the time.


    "But," Cammy repeated, "You''re gonna need to work for it. Sweeping the death of an exec under the rug? It''s not cheap. Khetnep''s told me; she likes to yap after a session... Or during, if you''re on your knees."


    Cammy winked, her smile becoming the sneer of a hungry predator; her pointed tongue ran along her upper teeth, from left to right. "You can work out the details with Khetnep; s''not my business, but I know you''re in our debt now. I''m sure a couple of beautiful, exotic girls like you could earn a pretty penny here... Or, you know, maybe put those Eastern abilities to work, hmm~?"


    Huh. Simultaneously it was exactly what Zofi had been expecting, and completely different. A debt... Normally she''d be indignant of such an implication, but, if Cammy was telling the truth? That they could make this all go away? Then a debt felt appropriate. And the work? Well, she and Lulu had wanted something to do anyways...


    "Okay. We''ll talk with Khetnep, work something out - just do whatever you need to to get rid of this guy, and we''ll be golden." Zofia''s lips and tongue felt like they moved on their own, forming the words she knew she had to say without any impulse provided for saying it. She was surprised by herself, honestly - surprised that she had leapt at the chance to speak up, to not leave it for Lucretia to handle, as she had been doing this whole time. Her right hand went out, opened up to shake - Camilla snickered and returned the gesture, taking a firm grip of Zofia''s hand and shaking.


    "Good! Well... We''ll get to work on this, yeah? We''re supposed to be with this dude for, what... Four hours? Scheduled us for quite a fucking while, must''ve been his day off, haha... Ha. You ladies can go back to whatever gay shit you were up to, in the meantime; just pretend Cinna and I aren''t here. We''re used to it, anyways - being around people fucking, that is. Kind of comes with the territory."


    Zofi turned to regard Lucretia, brow raised quizzically. Something told her there may not be any ''gay shit'' in their immediate future... But, well...


    When in Vitus, right?

 Act Five (Ch. 104) - Five Colour Fumble Part Six; or, A Secret Colour

    Christmas soon.


    Fucking bullshit.


    Christmas was a stupid holiday, the woman thought, as she splashed warm water against her face. Looking up, she gazed into her own eyes, watching the red swirl and shimmer like garnet.


    It was just some excuse for people to buy more shit, to give to others, to say to them, "Hey - here''s your shit. I sort of thought of you this year." As corporate a holiday as they came... She knew it firsthand, of course. She worked for one of those corporations that profited off of others'' supposed ''generosity''; hell, she worked for the corporation. She''d had a hand in raising toy prices a month early, then pretending to slash them just in time for suckers to eat it up and clear the shelves.


    Judas Alighieri blinked away her bitterness, straightening up as she reached for a towel. Her manse was quiet this evening - it was one of her days off, taken without warning and without issue. The only person who could tell her not to take a day off was too busy talking to the Devil and reaping souls, as far as she figured - and she had been stressed as of late. More stressed than usual, at least.


    Outside, in the hall, a knock was delivered to the bathroom''s locked door. A feminine voice, ragged from weeping and only recently returning, warbled from she who knocked.


    "M-Miss, ah... Miss Alighieri? I... I have your dinner. Should I-" The voice trembled as it relayed its message, and Judas found herself cynically cheered by the whole of it. The lingering hoarseness and the quiver of fear? Delicious, as always. The trepidation - the hesitance to interrupt whatever Judas may have been doing? Exquisite. The sweetness of it, and the novelty of its use? Luxurious as warm syrup on pancakes.


    "Should you put it in my room? Hardly. Vivica, you should know at this point, I take my dinner in the dining room when I have the evening free. Deliver it to my seat; do not make me instruct you further." Her orders lingered like a piano in a children''s cartoon, hoisted by rope far too thin to test, precariously dangled above their recipient''s head. One wrong move, and a deadly impact would be delivered - though, in humorous similarity to childrens'' cartoons, even such a would-be-lethal blow couldn''t kill Vivica forever. Hell, maybe she and Judas would have a laugh about it.


    Doubtful.


    Vivica squeaked like a chew-toy, frozen in place simply by the implication of punishment. Judas was, without any exaggeration, a monster - the sort of monster that made bogeymen and closet-haunts seem like teddy bears and friendly pets. Perhaps it would have been apt for the children of Vitus to be afraid that Judas would be under their bed come the daybreak.


    Yet, this time? No further blow found itself coming. Rather, Judas found herself laughing - laughing at herself, at Vivica''s fear, at the second-lives they had respectively found themselves living.


    "No, no, Vivica... You aren''t in trouble. Go get Jack, would you? I assume his dinner is ready, too - let''s, uh. Let''s all eat, er, together for once, yeah? We''ve... Got time. Tonight, we do." The words came on their own, forced up and out without any impetus from Judas''s waking mind. Her tongue spoke of its own volition, connected directly to her subconscious; the lungs pushed the requisite air devoid of any permission to do so. Even as she finished speaking, she turned to look at herself in the mirror once again - locking eyes with the woman looking back at her, the her-not-her that lived in a silvered pane.


    Silence was her response. Stunned, terrified, amazed, delighted, repulsed, furious... Judas could only guess at Vivica''s reaction. No response ever came, of course - just the silent shuffle of feet, creaking the floorboards as they went, after a handful of moments. Judas sighed, wondering what came over herself - what possibly could have compelled her to say something so foul, so utterly offensive.


    It was not, in its own right, cruel to suggest. The three of them were the manse''s denizens - and in the basement, a second Tybalt grew in warped, nightmarish flesh. Perhaps a cat would help set Vivica at ease. As the inhabitants of this prison mansion, it was only right that they should... should exist near one another, wasn''t it? Share their meals, share their time, share their... Their...


    A crack appeared in Judas''s visage.


    She stared, unable to even consider averting her gaze, as the Judas in the mirror began to peel. A shard of meat porcelain opened like a door, revealing her cheekbone and her inner mouth - and after hanging by a thread, it fell, leaving Judas staring at her own exposed musculature. Her ivories. Her gullet.


    More and more, her skin shattered and dropped like a smashed windowpane. The silence in her ears was deafening - she had turned the fan off when first she had exited the shower, and the sink had been shut for some time. Even breaths came slow, and muffled; her ears were filled with the cacophony of her own rushing blood, thundering like the war drums of some infernal army. Her heart began to beat faster, faster, faster, the reflection beginning to smile even as the original could only frown.


    From her left ear, a knock. From her right ear, a woman crying - Vivica, by the sound of it, but then her mother... then, her first love (the one Judas had [ NO ]) and then subordinates... Secretaries, security personnel, staffers and servants, eventually strangers... A curse of the revival. A curse of the cold-womb. A curse of the black blood.


    She could never forget. Never forget their faces [ STOP ], their meat [ PLEASE ], their screams and pleas for life [ NO MORE ] - she had gone in for procedure after procedure, doing everything that could medically be done short of a lobotomy. Never forget the way it had made her feel - in the moment, and in the afterglow. Her nostrils filled with the repulsive scent of rot, so sweet and pungent, sickly and vile - a scent she had beheld many a time during her tenure with Tsang. A perfume she had worn herself more than once, splattered with the blood of another.


    The din grew - now, accompanied by laughter. Male laughter at first... Alex, that blessed fool. He had seen an out and taken it - had lived as much of a second-live as he could, and when the reaper came knocking, he answered with a ball of flame. He was lucky. He wouldn''t get to see what was coming - he had never had to see the torture final product of Tsang''s machinations. He was free.


    Then, Zichen. Dark and potent, like some shadowy envoy of Satan; his laughter rang out despite its gentle nature. He needed no force in anything he did, anyways - laughter was for his own benefit, and yet it still struck Judas like a judge''s gavel. The laughter mingled with the screams, and the tears, and her thrumming heart; it was an orchestra for one, and the music it played was what Judas could only imagine Hell was like. A final voice joined the chorus.


    Her own.


    If Hell was real? She was living there. If Hell was real? She deserved it. She was an awful woman. She couldn''t stop herself from being an awful woman, no matter how hard she tried - no matter how many chunks she cut free, no matter what pills she swallowed or books she read or therapists she saw. It was fucking meaningless. The mirror-Judas began to rot before her very eyes, maggots crawling free of the flesh, muscle warping and peeling and swiftly taken with mold. Everything was so loud. So very, very loud - and still, Judas could do nothing to shake herself free from her position. She was a statue. She was mute, motionless, condemned to face ever awful memory though the voices of those she had afflicted, and those who knew better. Only the eyes of her mirrored self remained unblemished, still staring back cheerily as she decomposed. It opened its mouth, and when it spoke, it did so with a voice she had been hoping not to hear.


    "Judas?"


    Snap. Judas''s eyes re-focused, no longer held beneath the waves of delusion. She was normal again, and the voices - the awful, taunting, horrid voices - were nowhere to be heard. Her nude body was dappled with profuse sweat, as though she had been thrown in an oven with the door locked behind her. Her hair was bedraggled from motions unseen and unfelt, though the soreness of her neck told her they had happened.


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    At her throat, tip tickling damp flesh with a sizzle and burn, was a silver knife. Hers were the hands that held the handle; hers were the arms that had raised the way out knife. She was not smiling, though she was not frowning. Rather, her expression was blank as a canvas, eyes holding the hollowness that she never showed to others. Business as usual.


    She dropped the knife - its home was her medicine cabinet, as a hidden option against intruders whom she couldn''t or wouldn''t deign fit to see her combative state. She would have Jack or Viv pick it up, later; she didn''t... didn''t trust herself around it. Not now. Not for a long while, she figured.


    A knock came from the door, reminding her that someone was out there. The voice was male, and comforting - masculine but youthful, a man in his mid twenties at most, and one who was confident in his purpose. There was concern there, too - that nearly made Judas laugh, if only for the ridiculousness that someone might be concerned for her.


    "Y... Yes... Yes, Jack?" Jack. Blackjack, once - his call sign long forgotten in favor of his real name, and the comfort such familiarity provided. It was the same as why Vivica now spoke, why she now was allowed more freedoms, more... dignity. Not much, of course, but... It was better than it had been. Both of them were treated... better, Judas figured.


    Better would have to be enough.


    "Vivica said you wanted us to, aha... Said you wanted us to have family dinner, yeah? But, that was... Well, close to an hour ago. Your meat''s getting warm, Judas. She sent me to come check on you." That was a hammer blow in its own right. Vivica had sent Jack of her own volition to go check on Judas?


    Fuck, it had been an hour? Oh, shit. Oh, shit, oh, fuck. It was getting worse. She was getting worse.


    It was something that... Something that they had theorized, back when the cold-wombs were only prototypes and even zombies and vampires were in the testing phases. A life too long, much longer than the human body is designed to live? It might wear away at itself. Even with their advancements in staving off cell oxidation, and ensuring that protein generation continued at youthful, stable levels... there had always been a risk discussed. The risk, of course, of psyche degeneration.


    Fuck, she was getting worse. She had been in the bathroom for a whole hour after speaking with Viv. Her beef sashimi was probably warm and the blood had probably dried. And, the knife on the floor-


    "I''ll... Jack, come in. Please. I... Don''t know if I can get to the door. I''m s... Stunned. Help." Scared. She had almost said scared. She wasn''t ever scared. It seemed like a joke - some childish aspect to attribute to a formidable figure. ''Judas Alighieri is big and strong, and isn''tdoesn''t afraid of anything!'' But, it was all part of the facade - all part of who she was, who she presented herself as, all to ensure the respect of others. All to tell herself she was okay.


    Jack was silent. Then, the jingling of a key-ring - he had been given keys to the manse, of course, just in case of emergencies - and the rattling of the doorknob. The door was swung open, cautiously but without delay, and Jack revealed himself just as Judas was revealed to him.


    The same man as always - though compared to Judas, he was a boy - had come to Judas''s rescue. He wore his uniform even now, the hard black plating and kevlar underweave like a void in the glaring light of the bathroom. No helmet, though - and his piercing blues affixed themselves to Judas with a tinge of something nearly sadness.


    "Judas... I''m here. I''m here. You''re okay. Let''s... Let''s get you to the dining room. Viv and I haven''t started eating yet, we''ve been happy to wait... Don''t even worry about dressing, we''ve, aha, we''ve both seen you naked more than enough to not be shocked..." As he spoke he approached, gaze flicking to the silver on the floor. With a subtle nudge of his foot, he kicked it to the side - it clattered to a darkened corner, out of sight and out of mind. For now, at least.


    Blackjack''s arms went around Judas, hands holding her tightly in a tense embrace laden with muted sorrow. Judas wasn''t stupid, she thought - she knew he would have done more, said more, held her more emphatically if... If things had been different. If he wasn''t afraid of her. Afraid of what she could, or would, do - afraid of a single misstep meaning that his first life would end, and the potential that she would deny him his second.


    Judas didn''t even realize she was crying until she saw the wetness shine upon Jack''s shoulder pad. He had managed her out into the hallway, disregarding the knife and her bareness just as he had said he would. Distantly, the sound of a bottle being uncorked rang out.


    Jack tensed; he looked to Judas out of the corner of his eye, not wanting to address the offending noise directly. A smile came over Judas''s lips, and she returned Blackjack''s lingering embrace with renewed vigor.


    Vivica... was drinking? Pouring herself some champagne? Fuck it, Judas had plenty - it was better, she figured, to know that the girl she had so thoroughly broken had pieced herself together enough to take that sort of liberty. Instantly, cruel machinations flooded Judas''s forebrain: to force her to drink the entire thing without stopping, to break the bottle over her head and scold her, to do worse and more humiliating acts... And she bit down, fangs piercing her sucked-in cheek, pain forcing these intrusive ideas from her.


    Vivica could have her drink. She could drink as much as she wanted - fuck it, it might be nice for all of them to have a drink. A nice drink or five, some delicious steak, maybe... Maybe she''d order them to watch a movie with her. Have a cozy night in together - at the end of a gun, of course. They''d never agree otherwise. Jack, maybe - Vivica, certainly not.


    The dining room. They had made it to the dining room. Judas swallowed down the blood filling her mouth, blinking once, twice, five times to try and focus on reality. There, all near one another, sat three plates - each made up nearly identically, save for one which was a portion more than the other two. This one, as well, had the fullest glass of champagne; each setting, however, seemed to be prepped the same.


    Vivica, dressed in a frilly costume befitting a burlesque maid, couldn''t suppress a gasp at Jack and Judas''s state. She set down the half-full champagne bottle and rushed over, heels click-clack-clicking upon the hardwood floor. When she got within reach of the other two, however, she began to reach for them - and quickly righted this error, snapping her hands back to her side. Instead, a brief, sharp bow was given, Vivica''s whole body straight as a rail once complete.


    "Hello, Miss Alighieri - your dinner is served. I have taken the liberty of pouring some champagne to accompany it; I-I, ah, I do hope this was not overstepping my bounds. I... S-Simply, er, observed that you... T-Tend to enjoy a drink with dinner." She rattled off the businesslike address with a confidence that wore away like a cliff face near the sea, beginning to strong and ending with her eyes downcast and shoulders a-tremble.


    Judas, now in control enough to stand unassisted, turned from the seat Jack had placed her at. She beckoned Vivica over with a single finger, silent as the grave, face placid and jaw set. Blackjack re-tensed, his eyes flitting between Vivica and Judas in grim anticipation; he knew what was coming next, it seemed, and he dreaded it, though he was not allowed to avert his gaze.


    Vivica''s eyes became like saucers - she seemed to have come to the same conclusion as Jack, though there was the resignation of familiarity with her abuse that kept her nerves from being as sharp as his. She approached without delay but also without haste, lingering as much as she could without being tardy to acquiesce. Once before Judas, she waited for a single breath; receiving no immediate punishment or scolding, her mind leapt to the next possible conclusion. Using the table to steady herself, she began to lower herself to a kneel.


    "No."


    Vivica stopped. Blackjack stopped. The clock over the dining room''s fireplace may well have stopped. The air itself seemed to hang like a picture, caught forever in time, never able to escape the ties which bound it. Judas''s expression began to melt, gradually at first yet picking up pace as the smile formed and the eyes softened.


    "Vivica... Good girl. Good girl. Th-... Thank you for pouring the champagne, and sending Jack to find me. Let''s... Let''s have dinner. Please."


    Please.


    Vivica and Jack were shocked, nearly too shocked to move and comply. However, they both nodded their response, going to take respective seats on either side of Judas''s own - Vivica on the left, Jack on the right. Judas looked down at the meat on her plate - A1 Kobe, flash-seared on a skillet so hot it would have done permanent damage to a second-living. Jack''s plate had some pan-fried greens, it seemed, but Judas and Vivica had been served more beef - the king''s ransom of it going to Judas, of course.


    She took her gilt fork in hand and stabbed into one of the pre-cut slices, raising it to her mouth. Before she could take a bite, however, she was interrupted - Vivica''s voice, unbidden, rose up above the sound of shuffling cloth and silverware and crackling wood in the fireplace.


    "Th-Thank you, Miss Alighieri. I, uh... I''m glad you''re happy with it." Judas turned her head to look at Viv, straining not to show how stunned she was. Sure, Vivica was probably just appeasing her - frankly, she doubted Vivica could or would ever see Judas as anything other than the monster she was. She shouldn''t, if she did. And yet... when Judas looked to her, Vivica had put on the biggest smile Judas had ever seen her bear. Even though it was wobbly, and seemed an unfamiliar expression to her... she was smiling.


    Judas could taste her own tears as they ran to her lips.

 Act Five (Ch. 105) - Death in the Family; or, Amphetavore

    Silence, mainly - though it was underlined by the sound of music, the masculine tones of a lounge singer from the distant past rolling through the room.


    Two pairs of eyes flitted from one another away to the doorframe, and the intruders therein. One pair was a beautiful sapphire blue, irises lit from within by miniature LEDs; the other pair was golden, with pupils like those of goats, oblong and ovoid. Crimson flecks adorned the golden pair, like shards of shattered ruby; the sapphire set was comparatively immaculate, free of any blemish.


    Laughter.


    Khetnep leaned back further in her chair as she let mirth spring free, rocking her seat back as both hands went to her midriff to stabilize against her own amusement. Purity, smile on her face yet lingering from whatever she and Khetnep had been discussing, allowed said smile to widen like a slash of moonlight calling Vitus''s nocturnal animals - EJ, in this case - out to play.


    "EJ! Hey, EJ! Oh, Est, you''re here, too - hey, loves, I''m... right here! Nothing to worry about! Come in, come in; we were just talking about you!"


    Purity was seated on the outer edge of Khetnep''s desk, kicking her feet, and by all accounts looking unharmed and unbothered. Esper James felt the tension in her body drain away like a battery having its energy sapped, every scathing accusation and impulse for violence flowing out of her with the coolness and fluidity of melt-water. Her stance, once ready to pounce into action should the need arise, drooped into a relaxed slouch - behind her, Esthrielle''s own body had a similar reaction.


    As Khetnep finished laughing, silence took hold once more. There was an awkward stillness in the air for a handful of moments far longer and more oppressive than felt like relief; rather, EJ could have imagined herself painting her face with greasepaint and donning a red nose, for how she now felt. She did not resist as Esthrielle urged her forward into the office, the Easterner then shutting the door behind them.


    "Purity... Okay. You''re okay? Good, good. We, uh..." Est trailed off for a few seconds; the needles of expectant gazes spurred her back into action quickly, however, and she continued. "...We thought maybe you were in trouble. You''ve been away for a while, and we... We''re still settling in, you know? Not sure of how things... work around here, haha."


    Purity merely smiled in response, hopping off the desk and approaching the pair. As she reached them, she lowered herself enough so that she could wrap them both in a warm embrace, shutting her eyes and drawing in a deep breath so it might be released in an affectionate sigh.


    "Ahhh... Fuck, sorry, girls. Khetnep and I got to talking, and... Well, as I''ve said, she and I used to work together. Well, I used to work for her, specifically, but... We''re friends. I lost track of time while we were catching up, yeah? She and I had a lot to discuss, aha..." It was Purity''s turn to trail off. She gave EJ and Est a firm squeeze to cap off her sentence in lieu of speech - a squeeze that was, after a moment for the shorter women to process the situation, returned emphatically.


    Esper James was happy, of course, that Purity was safe - however, there was another emotion dominating the forefront of her mind: self-admonishment. She chastised herself for overreacting to Purity''s absence... for starting this whole little escapade, which had led to her run-in with the Tsang executive... for getting Est worried, too... and most of all? She chastised herself for feeling so pathetic about it all.


    She''d finally felt like she''d grown a backbone, getting ready to confront Khetnep regardless of what the bigger, more imposing ghoul could or would do - and yet now, seeing Purity safe and sound? That strength felt like a facade, dripping away from her as Purity took her in her arms. Khetnep''s barking voice punched through her fugue, though, and EJ''s gaze rose to meet her patron''s.


    "Well done, little ghoul! Well-fucking-done! And no, I''m not being sarcastic - I know your type, I know you need me to tell you that for it to be understood. Genuinely, I''m impressed!" Khetnep''s Cheshire grin was like the mouth of some all-devouring beast as she beamed at EJ, leaning back forward in her seat, putting her elbows on her desk and propping her chin up with folded hands. Her laughter had ceased, though those ivories seemed far from being put away - however, she seemed not to be lying. EJ felt her doubt being washed away with the tide of new emotion: surprise and pride in turn, the former more so than the latter.


    "You seemed so soft when we met, you know - and Purity spoke kindly of you, I promise, but implied you were a gentle sort. Kicked around by Vitus... by Tsang... by everyone you''ve ever known, it sounded like. And yet here you are, bursting in ready to - what, fight me? All to save your woman? You risked being seen by strangers out of love?" Khetnep shut her eyes, nodding to herself as if answering her own question. EJ''s eyes had grown wide now, that pride welling up with further and further intensity; Purity and Est, too, looked now to Khetnep with surprise etched on their features.


    Khetnep continued without needing an answer; she seemed the type who knew how to monologue, and also, the type used to being allowed to monologue by her employees. "Good, good. Good to know you''re able to put it all on the line for what you value, and believe in. It''s something fewer and fewer people in Vitus can manage nowadays... Everyone''s so scared of getting squashed down, getting rubbed out, that they keep to themselves. They lose themselves in pleasure, because the only alternative is to wallow in pain."


    Something about the way Khetnep had said it, all of it, felt... pointed, though not at EJ. The ghoulette briefly wondered if her kindred was speaking from experience; she figured Khetnep had to have been, given her choice of profession. It was easy to see the way vice held Vitus in its grip, when one lived in a temple to said vice.


    EJ took the opening to reply, feeling her earlier strength and conviction returning moment by moment, syllable by syllable. It felt good.


    "I used to be like that, you know. I know what you mean - afraid to die, or get sent to IRE, or to get put in stasis. Terrified by Tsang''s goons, and what they might do to me if I stepped out of line." She gathered herself up, now, straightening her back and solidifying her stance. The warmth in her chest was both familiar and alien all at once, reminding her of those moments in recent months that had felt... strong. Moments she had felt strong.


    Snapping at Est, on their first meeting. Finding the strength to hunt her down in the snow, in that darkened, derelict factory. Standing up for herself - flashing a gun, even - in the Jezze. Shooting the Product Reclamation officer, back in Kehler Complex. Ripping that officer to shreds when he had tried to apprehend her and Est, when they were fleeing Judas''s.


    As she made a mental trek through her moments of strength, she found new confidence blooming within mind and heart. The warmth within her grew, and as she remembered the taste of living flesh on her tongue and between her teeth, she couldn''t keep down her smile.


    "I don''t want to be that little girl anymore. I''m d-done being scared, being weak, being... being a burden on the ones I care for. I''m done being a coward, and a pushover, and a weakling, a-and a... a..." She had run out of things to say.


    That was okay, though, because Khetnep was more than happy to have a chance to jump in. She chuckled to herself, nodding emphatically at Esper James''s proclamation, pride of her own now evident on the domineering dame''s face. "Yes, EJ! Yes! That''s what I want to hear - what I love to hear! I don''t hire weak boys and girls, you know - and this strength? This conviction you''re showing me? It''s exactly what I need in my repertoire! Come here, come here - come shake my hand, miss Price-Wynnfield. I have a feeling you and I are going to be fast friends~"


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    Purity and Esthrielle released Esper James without delay or protest; Purity, however, cast a look to Khetnep that was absolutely indecipherable. EJ was caught up in her own feelings, however - she was riding the high of a level of self-esteem she had almost never felt, and she wasn''t about to let herself crash. Her feet felt like they were moving on their own as she approached Khetnep, putting out her hand to be shaken.


    Khetnep took it in an instant; her grip was powerful, and dominant, and possessed of a heat that the second-living rarely exuded. Must be leftover blood-warmth from her dinner... At least, that''s what EJ decided to write it off as. They shook hands heartily, zealously, and once Khetnep released EJ she stayed leaned forth.


    "So! Purity and I were discussing work for you ladies, you know - I remember when we first met, just the other day, you all told me you wanted to work. Told me you wanted to help out; that you weren''t just gonna shelter beneath my roof and hide away like frightened prey animals. So... we''ve been discussing just how you can help out." Khetnep was practically licking her lips at the prospects now laid out before her, leaning back once more in her seat to steeple her fingers over her chest.


    She was a bit like a see-saw, EJ thought; animated, though confined to what movement her throne would allow.


    "We had been discussing... Well, we''ll call it ''operational security''. The three Easterners are all highly suited for it... Combat trained and ready, durable, experienced... but, well, the issue that I can''t get around? Repairs." Khetnep un-steepled her hands for a moment, opening a drawer on her desk and reaching in. She drew out a fat brown cigar and a gold-plated lighter, popping the former into her mouth to bite off the un-clipped tip, which she spat on the floor.


    As she lit the stogie she continued, placing it between her fangs and speaking through a propped-open mouth. "If they get hurt, I''ll need to source parts for their mechanical bits - not impossible, but time consuming. I''m not worried about the cost - they''ll be worth every fucking penny, I''m sure - but Vitus isn''t exactly rife with the advanced alloys and polymers they use in the East."


    A few more puffs, drawing her cigar from her fangs for a moment so she may extend her thought unhindered. EJ waited patiently, though in her mind, she imagined Lulu and Zofia on the streets of Vitus, killing at Khetnep''s beck and call. Lulu, she could totally see it; hell, Lulu had probably put down more than a few second-living in her time. Esper James didn''t even need to consider if Est had what it took - she''d seen it in person.


    Zofia, though...


    "You, though, EJ - you''re second-living, like us. Like the rest of my people. And you''re unassuming... but, well, aha. Is it racist of me to say I think we ghouls have a leg up in this department? Does one''s type of second-life count as a race?" The rhetorical question drifted in the air along with fragrant smoke, eventually swatted away by Khetnep''s words.


    "I think you would be ideal. We can train you, get you to at least a passable state... and then you could get back at Tsang. Make them pay for what they''ve done to us, to this city, to the fucking UNAC in its entirety. We can bring down Tsang, together." The stogie was held aside so Khetnep could offer Esper James a winning smile, giving the blonde time for the proposition to sink in.


    EJ''s head was spinning. In no uncertain terms, Khetnep was saying that she would train - and ideally equip - Esper James to be a professional killer, and then help her take out Tsang targets. What? What the fuck? That was an... Insane proposition, to say the least. Esper James had never been that sort of person in her life - she''d never been aggressive, much less violent, and even those moments of violence had been... well, impulsive. They''d been born of sudden, overwhelming emotion, not conscious thought.


    Could EJ take a life unbidden? Could she kill people willingly, of sound mind and heart?


    She thought, then, of the executive she and Est had met in the hallway, on their way up to Khetnep. She thought of the fury that had built in her heart even at seeing him, much less interacting with him. She thought of his words.


    Judas would... would burn her. Judas, the only constant in her life for three entire fucking decades of unlife, would burn her to death if she was caught. That was regardless of if she fought back, or if she came in willingly - EJ may as well have been dead already, truly dead. The entire entity of Tsang wanted her dead... and many of her civilian peers surely did, too. She was a wanted woman. She could live forever in fear... or, with Khetnep''s help, she could at least die proud, fighting back against the city, and the corporation, who had disabused and dehumanized her.


    She would kill if she had to - anything else was delaying the inevitable. At least with this, she could make them pay for what they had done to her.


    "I accept." Her words practically echoed in the office as she spoke them, seeming to reverberate through the air like a shockwave. Her brow and jaw were set, her heart was firm, and her conviction was unwavering - she could allow herself to second-guess the decision.


    Esper James turned her head to look at Purity and Est, both of whom sat slack-jawed, mouths agape with utter shock and confusion. Purity held some fear in her expression, eyes wide as twin moons on her face; Esthrielle''s brow was furrowed with concern, a thousand thoughts flashing behind her eyes so quickly none could truly influence her look.


    Khetnep did not laugh. She nodded, shutting her eyes to drink in the moment, stogie continuing to smoulder between her fingers. After a few more seconds of allowing EJ''s decision to hang, she spoke up once more.


    "Good. I''ll work out everything we''d need to get you ladies situated - you for sure, EJ, your lover and friends if they so choose. I would take no joy in forcing any of you to work for me; you all may refuse, or back out, at any time. We''ve signed no contract, and I won''t hold it against you if you go back to your room, talk it out, and realize you aren''t really keen on, aha, ''corporate excision''. Regardless of your choice..." She puffed now on her cigar, blowing a perfect ring out to gently impact against EJ''s chest. Khetnep winked.


    "La Scission remains a home to you and yours. Tsang is trash, and if they''re willing to cannibalize themselves for their own personal gain? They''re weak. Afraid. Greedy. I don''t know why they want you, EJ, and I don''t care - whatever you did to them pales in comparison to what they did to you, I''m sure."


    Esper James had to hold back giddy laughter at Khetnep''s words. This whole time, her whole life, she had seen Tsang as an impenetrable, unshakeable force of nature. Even when fleeing with Purity, and during their stay in both the factory and the convent, Tsang seemed... Dauntless. Seemed too big to fail. Everyone always spoke of them as a formidable opponent at worst, or a force of nature at best.


    Yet now, here was this... this criminal mastermind, beautiful and powerful and confident and smug, declaring that Tsang was ¡®trash¡¯. Calling them weak, saying they were afraid. Even the Knights had been cold and analytical in regards to Tsang, but Khetnep seemed to look down on them as insects to be stepped on.


    EJ repressed her laughter, but couldn''t mute the smile. She turned back to Khetnep, nodding vehemently, fervently, swept up in the other woman''s confidence and charisma. "Yeah! They''re, uh..."


    She didn''t have anything to pitch in that wasn''t just a bold-faced lie, or assumption; she settled on simply agreeing, another ''yeah'' capping off the sentiment. Khetnep snickered at that, nodding in response, before drawing in a deep breath and letting it roll from her in a heavy, contented sigh. "Good, then. We''ll disassemble Tsang together. I''ll work out something for January for you - training, not action. In the meantime? You ladies go have fun; relax, enjoy yourselves, so on and so forth. Purity? Just let me know if you all need anything; I''ll make it happen. Promise."


    Purity was torn from her lingering shock by being addressed directly; she nodded curtly, remembering the list of demands Zofia and Lulu had put forth. The drugs, mostly; she remembered they wanted drugs, and honestly? Maybe they all needed a little something to take the edge off. Couldn''t hurt, at least.


    However, a knock from the corridor broke her concentration; she whipped around, ready for the door to open and for strangers to see that she, Est, and Esper James fucking Price-Wynnfield were already here. Anyone seeing EJ always carried some risk nowadays.


    However, the door wasn''t opened; at least, not unbidden. A voice came from the other side, instead - a male voice, though light and soft, like a vocal pillow. Purity knew she recognized the voice from somewhere...


    "Miss Khetnep? We''ve, ah... We''ve got a small problem. Cleanup needed. Purity''s room. Just, err, requesting permission to flush the body... I b-brought his ID, so you can handle the coverup. Tsang dude, paid a lot..."


    Oh! That''s right! Cinna, from the bathhouse! He works here now?


    Huh. Wait, did he just say ''flush the body'' and ''Purity''s room''?

 Act Five (Ch. 106) - How I Learned to Stop Giving a F- and...; or, [TITLE CHARACTER LIMIT REACHED]

    Cinna explained, in short order, the sequence of events that had led to his current appearance in Khetnep''s office.


    The executive, one... Philip, maybe? Did his name even matter if he was truly dead? Phil Doe had swaggered into the main floor lounge, immediately waving around a massive wad of cash to make up for what was very likely a notably small, or gross, penis. This was standard fare in La Scission, and other establishments like it, so of course he was immediately flocked by workers looking for a fat commission from his fatter stack of bills.


    Spent some time getting lap dances, doing body shots, looking-but-not-touching (except not really following the last half of that), and then finally was raring to go. Everything was going as planned.


    He was incredibly sloshed at this point, inundated with donor blood cocktails and the occasional cheeky bump of coke off the nearest prostitute''s associated genitalia. Camilla and Cinna had been his selection for the evening - the best of many different worlds - and so they had coaxed him up to the expensive luxury rooms. Things had been going just as expected, exactly as anticipated... and then, the hallway?


    He had run into a girl who looked awfully familiar, who seemed to be a new member of Khetnep''s employ, being held close by a woman who Camilla later remarked was "so obviously Eastern she may as well have had the ERFS flag tattooed on her cheek". That wasn''t strange in and of itself: it was an open secret in Vitus that there were more Easterners here than the populace at large would ever consider, and those Easterners - Wayward or otherwise - oftentimes found themselves mingling with Vitus''s criminal element simply as a convenience.


    Of course, ''literally Esper James'' was way more difficult to sweep under the rug than some random Wayward who had decided to go native and screw the locals.


    Camilla and Cinna had both tried to move Phil away as fast as possible, and frankly, they''d done a pretty good job - not before he could thoroughly piss Esper James off so badly that Camilla could smell the adrenaline releasing into her blood, and the fresh black blood from her literally biting her tongue. Still, they got away without outright conflict, and Phil soon forgot the matter.


    Of course, he stumbled into an occupied room on purpose, hearing two feminine voices on the other side of the door and imagining himself on the set of a porno. Unfortunately for him, and the women he quickly referred to as ''dykes'', he didn''t realize the gravity of the situation of entering unannounced and uninvited into someone else''s fun. Pornography is a fantasy, and it''s when the fantasy becomes indistinguishable from reality, that it truly-


    It was here where Khetnep put up a hand and began rushing Cinna along - this little story had gone for far too long already.


    Cinna acquiesced, skimming over the exact details as he regaled the assembled women with the story''s finale: Phil had said the wrong thing to the wrong people, and one of them - a woman with long, silken brown hair - had caved his face in like an old soda can. The crunch it had made had been worse than anything Cinna had heard echoing from the red rooms, but it had happened so fast he hadn''t had time to vomit.


    "And, ahh, yeah..." Cinna fidgeted nervously now, thankful in the utmost for how warm Khetnep kept the place. Purity, Esthrielle, and EJ were absolutely bewildered, each woman some varying degree of aghast, awestruck, and amused.


    Esthrielle was, frankly, proud - to know that Zofia had had such fury and power buried just below the surface? It was good that it had been unearthed here and now, outside of a life-or-death situation... good that she hadn''t been forced into this out in the field. Now, she could focus on training herself even harder, and concentrating this sudden rage and drive towards their enemy - and do it without the mother abbess manipulating her into it, or using it for her own gain.


    Purity, alternatively, was fucking shocked. The entire sequence of events had happened purely out of coincidence - purely circumstantial circumstances - and yet, it felt almost planned. Even worse, of course, was that Zofia... Zofia, the sweet and gentle art school wannabe, who had been drafted unwillingly into the role of a killer... was, apparently, more than cut out for ending lives. What the fuck.


    It always seemed to be the quiet ones, eh?


    EJ, however, was simply dazed. Her head was spinning... Zofi had killed someone? Cinna, the kind boy (it felt wrong to consider such an effete, lithe creature a ''man'') they''d met at the bathhouse, was here? They had killed a Tsang executive, and were looking for clearance to give him an acid bath in the tub and wash him down the drain?!


    Mother fucker that was a lot. A whole fucking lot to have happen in such a short time... and hearing Cinna regale them with the sequence of events, even leaving out the minor details of it all, kindled the furnace in EJ''s chest that had roared and raged when she had run into ''Phil'' in the hallway.


    Suddenly, it was all very truly real. Sure, she had... Had killed people before. Two of them, in acts of desperation and passion and momentary insanity and panic... but those weren''t true deaths! A ghoul''s claws and fangs couldn''t permanently end a life in Vitus, and even the man she had shot back in Kehler Complex had only been temporarily killed - silver bullet or not, it hadn''t pierced his brain, just his sternum. Frankly, an argument could be made that Purity was the one who had actually killed him, stabbing him while he was gurgling and dying on the floor.


    Khetnep, unlike the other three women, seemed almost entirely unfazed by this epic saga of lust, violence, and corporate death. If nothing else, she seemed to harbour a tiny spark of approval for Zofi''s decisive action. While the trio before her was still dazed and processing what the doorframe dweller had just told them, she leapt right in without any further delay.


    "Hmph. Yeah, okay Cinna, you''ve got my permission - wash him out. Use the good stuff from the basement, too - and then you and Camilla have the rest of your shift as PTO. Wouldn''t be good to have you seen by patrons, though, so... Iunno, do whatever you two do when you''re free. Go get pegged or something."


    Khetnep snickered, shutting those great golden eyes and spreading a Cheshire smile across her lips; Cinna, by contrast, was completely shocked - too shocked, in fact, to refute the accusation of getting pegged.


    "W-Wait, really...? PTO? And... And we''re not in troubl-" Khetnep raised her right hand once more, lazily opening her left eye to stare like a well-fed housecat into Cinna''s worry-wracked face.


    "Yes, Cinna, PTO. Full rate. I''m not mad - you and Camilla did your best to dissuade him from walking into his own death. You tried to keep him out of trouble, and he ignored you willingly. Plus? I''m glad that our guests are already getting into the bloodlust. Cinna, hey... You have contacts in the Revenants, right? You used to run with them before the Kehler Complex cell got quashed?" Her smile became more of a mischievous grin, the expression made by a predator who knows her prey is cornered.


    Cinna swallowed hard. He nodded after a moment, face falling to a portrait of grim remorse. His gaze fell in turn, now focused on the plush shag carpet of the office, not daring to meet Khetnep''s lazy feline look.


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    "Yeah. I... used to be an informant for them. Once Eddy''s crew... er, once Kehler went up in smoke, I didn''t know anyone in any other cells, and... damn, Khetnep, it''s winter. I couldn''t be out on the street any more, you know? The money I made from solo work, before I met Camilla... I couldn''t..."


    Another hammer blow to EJ''s temple, the mention of Kehler being destroyed - and Eddy''s crew with it - was enough to draw a despairing exclamation from the blonde. She was desperate to know more - to grill Cinna like a hibachi for every ounce of info he could provide - but she held her tongue adamantly. There would be time for that later. However...


    ...the knowledge that Kehler was gone, and Eddy''s group with it? It was true, EJ had barely known them - they''d played one game of Wayfinder together, for one session, and even now EJ couldn''t remember everyone''s name. However, she could remember their faces: Eddy, his green-haired girlfriend, the two nearly-identical brothers... and Kell. Kell, who had sheltered EJ and Purity, who had risked herself to ferry them out of Kehler and to the factory to find refuge. Kell, who was still an enigma in EJ''s mind, but who had always seemed nearly prophetic in her knowledge of her enemy.


    They were dead. Truly dead. Gone forever, without any chance to come back; no amount of time in the cold-wombs could revive a pile of ash. They had been some of the only people in the last thirty fucking years who had made EJ feel like she had something resembling friends, even if they had only known one another briefly - and now, they were gone. And it was Tsang''s fault.


    Tsang couldn''t fucking stop taking everything from her, could it? Her life... her freedom, her sense of self, her individuality, her self esteem, her creativity, her dignity, her loved ones, her happiness... her death. Tsang had taken just about everything that made her her, and... and they wouldn''t stop until they took her, too.


    The furnace grew that much hotter. It wasn''t just hot, really - it was blazing. It was a conflagration. It was a pyre, now, for those would-be friends she''d never be able to see ever again - and the life she would never again be able to live. There would never be a chance for her to be a simple private citizen again, or ever lead a quiet life. She was like a fox with a prized, flawless pelt - and Tsang''s hounds would hunt her doggedly until she was dead, taking every scrap of joy from her that they could as they went.


    She thought of Purity. Of Esthrielle. Of the way Judas had treated them, both of them. Of the way they had all suffered at Tsang''s hands. It was far from an entirely new thought, admittedly - but that didn''t mean it was any less potent. It didn''t make their pain any less painful.


    "EJ," Purity whispered, "C''mere. Come here, babe... let me hold you..." EJ became aware, then, that she was trembling. Her fingers had arched and flexed, emphasizing the sharp claws at their very tips; her neck was bulging with restrained effort, and every muscle on her body felt as taut as a snare drum''s springs. Her hair tickled at her tailbone through the thin PVC of her outfit, wild and unbound and wavy as ever.


    Purity held an open stance, arms spread just enough that the ghoulette could slip into her embrace. EJ did as she was told, taking the offered contact without question and with only a measure of hesitation; once their arms were around one another, she pressed her face into Purity''s chest, shutting her eyes tight and trying to draw every ounce of comfort she could from her pink-haired lover. The scent of Purity''s true life was almost a perfume; the scent of her skin and blood and gentle, lingering sweat was exactly what EJ needed. Esper James breathed deeply.


    She felt another body press in from behind, and the scent of silicone and machine lubricant and another warm body entered the bouquet. EJ took her right arm from Purity and offered it around her back to pull Est in as close as she could, making a sandwich of herself with the two other women as the bread. Est said nothing; instead, she leaned her head down and nuzzled into EJ''s neck, placing a soft kiss on the petite girl''s still-trembling flesh.


    They sat like that in silence for a few moments, the only sounds in the office being breathing, cloth-against-cloth, and the lounge crooner Khetnep had thrown onto her personal speaker. Eventually, however, Khetnep did speak up - though not without offering the women ample time to lean upon one another.


    "Hey... Girls. This is gonna sound really fucking shitty, but... it''s best you get used to this sort of thing. I dunno if you knew anyone at Kehler, or if you knew Eddy and his people, or anything like that... but. It''s a cruel reality, and it''s better to face it now and know that this is the way things are, rather than any other way." Khetnep''s tone had softened in an uncharacteristic tone of sympathy, even her volume having been lowered to a tactful hum. She tutted once, pausing for a second, then continuing.


    "Tsang kills people. Indiscriminately. There were innocents in Kehler - and there have been innocents in every other housing complex that''s been firebombed, raided, gassed, et cetera. This isn''t a conflict between two parties with both sides minimizing collateral, you know? It sucks. It''s fucking shitty. But... if something isn''t done?" She sighed deeply, pensively, letting her question linger heavily in the air like a piano suspended by rope.


    "Tsang will keep killing people. Things will get worse for everyone - everyone. Everyone but them. I''m one woman - sure, I run a criminal empire of sorts, but... I mean, hell, it''s like if the mob took on an entire nation. We''ve gotta try, and... I won''t say I don''t do anything already, but it''s obvious things are getting worse. So. Let''s... Phew. Let''s remember that this is the way things are gonna be this whole time - and they''ll only get worse unless something happens."


    She leaned back in her chair, then, a pensive queen upon her throne contemplating a war on all sides. Another deep inhale, another sigh, and another final statement. "Bluntly? The killing won''t stop until it''s done - all of it."


    This last declaration was more weighty than a tonne of bricks, and twice as crushing. It felt a bit self evident, that the killing wouldn''t stop until the war stopped, but... perhaps, the simplest truths were sometimes the ones most worth stating. Esper James gulped down her fractured emotions, shifting gently to let her lovers know she wanted to be free. They acquiesced, and once they did, the blonde turned to face her soon-to-be-superior.


    "Y-Yeah. Tsang will... will keep killing people, until either no one is left to kill, or until Tsang isn''t around to kill anyone. I... I understand, Khetnep. I''m, ah... I''m ready for January."


    January. When her training would start. When she''d start to learn how to actually fight against Tsang - how to strike out against the fucking corporate regime that had pressed its knee into Vitus''s neck with impunity. When she''d... she''d start actually being able to, for what felt like the first time, reach out and take control of her life.


    Khetnep smiled in response, though it was far from the smug, cocksure smirk she often employed. Frankly, it was tinged with sadness, and pity, and an unspoken sympathy that made EJ''s eyes sting to even see in the gaze of another.


    "Me too, Esper James. I''m... excited to see your performance. Now, all four of you - get out of my office. Not to shoo you away, but I''m seeing a girlfriend in a little bit, and I gotta make sure my mood isn''t too heavy to put her over my desk. Capisce?"


    That was enough of a tonal shift to lighten the lingering gloom in the office; Cinna snickered, Purity rolled her eyes and smiled from ear to ear, and Esthrielle couldn''t suppress a bashful grin. EJ, too, chuckled; she shook her head at the announcement of Khetnep''s imminent liaison, and gave her a single affirmative nod.


    "Yeah. Okay, yeah, let''s... Let''s go back to our room. We''ve gotta chat with Lulu and Zofi about a lot of shit... or, honestly? Maybe let''s just watch a movie, yeah? A movie sounds really good right now..." A movie did sound damn good. The quartet shuffled out one by one; Cinna said something to the trio of lovers about catching up later before rushing down the hall, leaving EJ and her girlfriends to their own devices. They made their way slowly, EJ and Purity flanking Est to keep up their image of a Jane with her evening entertainment, none of them in any particular rush to make their way back to the room.


    As they walked, EJ began to think about something else Cinna had mentioned: Lucretia and Zofia had apparently been in a pretty compromising position when they were interrupted. Allegedly. But... Wow, shit, had that been all it took? A little alone time, and Lulu had finally made her move on the brown-haired beauty?


    There was a sort of pride that bloomed in Esper James''s chest at the thought of it: Lucretia taking the initiative and going for it, getting the desired response, and almost sealing the deal. Furthermore? Zofia had been so indignant, so full of rage and distress at having her big moment interrupted, she had fucking killed that guy in two punches. As Cinna had told it, she hadn''t even hesitated - instead, she rushed him head-on and turned his outsides into insides faster than a person could blink.


    Fu-hu-huck. EJ couldn''t help but beam at her imagined portrayal of the events; she''d need to say something to both of them once they met up again. She wouldn''t have to wait long, either; bringing her focus back on the world around her, she and her babygirls had already made it back to their door.


    Purity made sure to knock, so as not to end up just like that slob that was about to paint their tub with his liquefied remains.