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The Obliate

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unknown
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« on: March 06, 2007, 03:55:38 pm »

The Obliate




Ancient grimoiries,
With their alchemist's stories,


Lead to a learning,
Of oddic forces a’churning.


Secrets lay hidden,
Nature's forces are bidden


The dark abyss calls,
Forbidden knowledge enthralls.


The rituals lure,
Into realms now impure,


Unnatural bound beings,
Tortured souls still screaming.


Maintain your control,
Guard that light airy soul.


A bane to our kind,
Beware of a curious mind
.
 




They stared at Mercy Caldwell, child prodigy and heir apparent of the spiritualist's realm, orphaned at the age of eleven and the toast of Europe by fifteen. She undulated in her trance state, breathing heavily, skin flushed, her head rolling back and forth.

It began slowly-- slight movements; a light thump...thump, The table began to rock higher on its stilted legs: thump, thump...thump, thump. It hit the cold stone floor rapidly now, racing like the hearts of the awestruck socialites, shaking convulsively, thump, thump…thump, thump.

The table began lifting into the air; it hung there for just a moment-- then dropped thump. A foul wind rushed through the air of the darkened great hall. “Sweet Mary what is that horrid stench?” Amanda Dandridge complained.

A chill, echoing voice came from the mesmerized girl. “A man in a white robe is standing over a great black pit, his followers are chanting something.” A low gurgling issued from her throat--her eyes quickly rolling back into her head.   

“Raaaaa-Het-heruuuuu-Iaaaaaooooo-Asaaaarrrrrrr" 

The wind roared in theirs ears, circling the heavy oak table like a whirlpool lifting small objects in its wake and dashing them against the walls, the ancient tapestries flopping madly. Flop--flap, flop--flap

"Ahhh-seeeb-kaaaheeem-Naaaruuuu-Emmm-Hotep Heru'

The tiny spiritualist squirmed, blank white eyes staring,

Something has gone horribly…  Jesus… Their flesh is being shredded, like a thousand invisible whips…bloods spurting…their eyes… It’s coming from the pit…it sees me! No, please, nooooowh, no.”

“Dear God man, Bring her out of it at once!” Colonel Edmond yelled.

“Awake, Mercy” the mesmerist said, as he clapped his hands in a rythmic pattern clap--clap--clap, clap. Objects fell from the air, as if dropped by a careless child. They raced to little Mercy's aide.

“Let me through!” Commanded The Great Octarini, as he called himself, even if no one else did. Alberto Octarini (The Great Octarini, I mean) was an aging physician, who found himself in the unfortunate position of having publicly endorsed Mesmer, and the efficacy of magnetic treatments; and with the subsequent loss of prestige and a great many of his best paying customers, he had been forced to seek other types of recompense.

“Sir, I shall have you brought up on charges for this, it is criminal negligence, at the least,” threatened Colonel Edmond.

Alberto shot back, “We were invited here sir, why was I not warned that this place had a history of paranormal activity. I dare say you and Ms. Dandridge, share some blame for this as well. Help me get her to a room, she is drained near to death.”

“Oh My God, yes there is a spare servants room just down the hall, poor little dear.” Amanda wrung her hands as she spoke. Damn! she thought, It's a disaster  Her guests were grumbling angrily, and showing themselves out. Without bothering to thank the distraught hostess.

Alberto began hooking up his magnetic apparatus next to the small cot where Mercy lay. A man shouldered his way into the little room yelling, “What the hell are you doing, you quack!”

Roared Alberto,“I am board certified, and she is MY patient. If you don’t want a swift kick in the a**, I suggest you get the HELL-out of here.” The man retreated silently.

“Is she all right, Mother of God! what just happened?” Amanda asked excitedly.


***


The delicate young Mercy was sent to him by the Maidens Of Christ Orphanage for treatment of a nervous disorder. Alberto was not unfamiliar with this quaint euphemism, sometimes used in official circles to denote poltergeist activity. If they were sending her to him, he was certain paranormal activity was involved.

She was led into his office by a big shouldered, heavyset woman in the somber black habit of her order, a scowl stretched from ear to ear. The Nun began, “Here she is Doctor, the little witch!  See if you can drive the devil out of this one,” she said, as she shook little Mercy by one arm.”

"Please stop, it’s not her fault,” said Alberto.

“Oh it isn't, is it? Well what would you know about it! If I had my way we’d do this the old fashioned way and burn this little twig of a girl,” the Nun growled.

“You may come back in a couple of hours, but I demand privacy for all my sessions, now if you please!” said Alberto, disgusted and angry.

He saw the face of a angel, graced by wavy locks of raven black hair. Her big green eyes dimmed by the dark circles beneath them. The child was emaciated, her high cheekbones almost protruding from the pale skin. Yet, she was possessed of a delicate ephemeral beauty only found in the very young. She stood calmly, as if listening for something, in the little white cotton dress that was her only gown. His heart beat with empathy for this "little twig of a girl."

Shadowy apparitions, and incessant pleadings from the disembodied, had plagued her from early childhood. With the onset of puberty her natural talents were demonstrated in a most remarkable and destructive manner. It took months but finally, Alberto was able to train Mercy; to block out the voices but more importantly he taught her to guard her energy. To keep the disembodied from using her energy for their temper tantrums. In the meantime he had determined not to leave her in the tender care of the Maidens of Christ, and began adoption proceedings.


***


Alberto sat in a little chair beside Mercy’s bed, holding her hand. His sad eyes looked pleadingly into her face, sleeping beauty he thought to himself as he kissed her cheek. She stirred, her eyes opened slowly.

“What happened Alberto?” he thought thats odd, she always calls me Bear. 

“It was a bad one my dear, I was afraid--I might lose you.” Alberto said, trying hard to hide his inner turmoil.

“What do you mean?” Mercy asked.

“We may have awoken something tonight, something--” Alberto thought aloud.

Mercy grabbed the covers and awkwardly rolled off the cot. “Don’t be silly, it’s just another séance.” 

Alberto complained.“Where do you think you're going young lady?“

“I feel fine, I just want to get a glass of water,” she replied nonchalantly, moving to the dresser along the wall. “Am I your dear?” Mercy asked in a subdued tone, as she lowered her head.

He walked over to her lifting her chin and looking into her eyes he said, "You know I love you, Mercy.”

“If you love me, then why haven’t you ever tried to touch me? We both know you're not my real father. I see the way you look at me. I know you want me, I want you to touch me!”  Mercy said, staring longingly, yet defiantly into his eyes.

“Alright who’s there, who am I talking to?”

“You Fool!” a wicked hollow voice emanated from her lips. “I offer your most burning secret desire, all you had to do was play along! Now you shall DIE without ever tasting this juicy, wet, forbidden fruit.”

“I ask again; who am I talking to?” Mercy collapsed to the floor. Alberto was shaken, he looked at her for a long moment. Then picked her up gently and laid her on the cot.


***


Amanda sobbed. Holding Colonel Edmond tightly, as he stoked her strawberry blond hair. She pulled back. “Why does this always happen to me? I am ruined." Amanda thought, Oh, what a simply marvelous idea that was! Why we'll have a seance with the best spiritualist on the circuit. Spiritualism is all the rage on the Continent and a full-blown phenomenon in America. Oh yes... Why it will be the biggest social coup of my entire life! Ha, how could I have been so...as my adopted countrymen say BLOODY wrong?

God only knows why European society feel so superior to the “Nuevo Riche,” as if it was a sin for your father to have actually EARNED his money. (In Amanda’s case it might have been, for her father was an unscrupulous arms dealer.)

This hard-nosed American was going to show all those old world snobs, I was not to be trifled with. How dare they turn up their noses up at me and turn down those gorgeous, gold leafed, engraved invitations I sent. Well I showed them alright, showed them right to the door that led out of my life forever. "They will never accept me now.” she sobbed.

Colonel Edmond picked her up and laid her gently on the bed, “They will my dearest, I will see to that!” he said firmly

“Don’t leave me, please don’t leave me. Not tonight!” That stench, she thought, like from the séance! floating above the colonel’s head she saw disembodied eyes glowing hot red, staring knowingly, malignantly into her own. She screamed.

“What the hell?” Colonel Edmond bellowed. “Good God, woman what’s gotten into you?”  Amanda scrambled away quickly, drawing the covers tightly up around her neck, wide eyed and trembling, one arm shot out, pointing her finger out at something behind him.


***


Alberto held her small hand tenderly, “Come on Honey, come back to us.” Mercy had lain unconscious for the last two days, she was everything to him, the only tether holding him to this life, his only remaining joy, he was so proud of her. Suddenly for the first time in ages tears formed in his old eyes.

"Come to dinner with us Alberto, you hardly left this room in days.” Amanda pleaded.

“I want to be here when she wakes up, I need to be here,” Alberto said quietly.

“I insist, I simply will not take no for an answer,” Amanda said as she grabbed him by the arm and practically lifted him from the chair.

“All--Alright.” He replied.


***


It was a somber, subdued group that gathered around the huge oak table. The wood beamed ceiling arched twenty feet above the great hall. The conversation was almost non-existent as they sipped sherry from crystal decanters and nibbled at their food.

"Will she be all right, Doctor?" Edmond asked; broaching the subject that was on all of their minds.

“I pray she will, I shall never forgive myself if anything happens to her,” Alberto said wearily. Flip--flop, flip--flop, “What is that?”

“Look” Amanda said quietly. Mercy trotted into the hall, her tiny bare feet slapping on the cold stone floors.

“She is--she’s sleepwalking, let’s follow her,” Said Alberto. Mercy’s small quick steps led them down the corridor to a hidden passage. Inside was an old stairway covered in cobwebs, wet and moldy. The Colonel grabbed a lantern from off a table and lit it as they followed Mercy into the darkness. The descent led them into a dungeon, a silent reminder of cold blooded, brutal age.

“Sweet, Mother of Pearl,” said Amanda “I had no idea--a torture chamber! If I had known, I never would have bought this horrid place!” "Ahh" Amanda shieked and grasped tightly to the Colonel's arm. As rats scurried across the floor beyond the lantern light into waiting darkness. Mercy led them past the rusting implements of the torturers black art, to an iron bound oak door. Here she stopped, pushing an tugging at the door, desperate to gain entrance. Alberto grabbed a branding iron from a nearby brazier, prying at the heavy iron lock until it burst free. "Maybe we shouldn't go down there," Amanda said.


***


The huge stair well led down like a corkscrew, hiding from view all that lay beyond the next turn. The stench became stifling making it hard to breath, the air chill and damp. At the bottom was a large cavernous room. In the middle of which lay an ominous black pit. Mercy ran to the edge of the pit and raised her arms triumphantly; stretching into the air she began chanting.

“Raaaa-Het-heruuu-Iaaaaoooo-Asaaaarrrrr"

As they neared her, a heavy wind lifted and slammed them against the walls pinning them there. Alberto tried to free himself with every ounce of his strength. “Mercy! Wake up! WAKE UP mercy! For Christ's Sakes!” He screamed.

"Ahhh-seeeeb-kaaaaheeem-Naaaruuuu-Emm-Hotep Heru'

From out of the pit it arose, a slimy translucent thing. A bloated mass with a hundred eyes burning hot red: peering out of the flesh rippling with a thousand tentacles dancing angrily, waving hungrily about.


***


An ancient mindless elemental being, bloated, and engorged on the bodies and souls of it's victims. It's essence tainted, twisted by the tortured Ka's of those poor unfortunates cast helpless into the black pit. Feeding its inhuman mind with all the darkness lurking in the human psyche, soaked in a viscous black pool of pain, lust and rage.

Now it sensed fresh victims, the kind it had learned to savor, salivating in gruesome anticipation of the tantalizing feast that lay before it. slap--lap, As the tentacles found Amanda, slap, lap  They tore through her clothes, furiously ripping them aside, to get at the tender warm flesh beneath. slap, lap, slap, lap

It grabbed her arms, Dear God No, No, she thought as she feverishly stuggled to free herself from its clutches. It held her helpless against the rough cavern walls. The tentacles encircled her quivering thighs forcefully speading them open. Sweat dripped down her forehead and into her eyes. slap, lap, slap, lap

A hundred lustfilled eyes stared mercilessly down upon her, yes squirm, riggle, I love that, it makes it so much yummier when they fight me. slap, lap Tentacles slithered over soft skin, sending spasmatic shivers of revulsion and pleasure through her tormented flesh. slap, lap, slap, lap She squirmed "Aughh, no--please no--don't, NO!" she said, shaking her head violently from side to side.  As if this fiendish elemental could be ordered away like a school boy with a crush, tut, tut...

The elemental fiend taunting her, playing with her as a cat plays with a wounded mouse. Another tentacle moved slowly, slowly, inevitibly up between her thighs. It encirlced her waist and lifted her in the air. Amanda gasped, her heart raced as the slimy translucent tentacle undulated on the edge of it's insidious goal, tormenting her. slap, lap, slap, lap "yes, yes, do it, you bastard!" she screamed, tears streaming down her eyes. slap, lap, slap, lap Insanity strove with lust to gain dominance: and claim her tortured pschye, her hip's gyrating madly towards those inhuman whip like appendages.

She could stand it no longer, madness flooded her soul...slap--lap, slap--lap Her blood shot out in wet red streams against the walls and slowly dripped back down. Colonel Edmond wet himself as he watched. A tentacle slapped his leg, slap--lap, the pain stabbing through his spine and searing his brain, in another moment he was gone. slap--lap, slap--lap

“Mercccy!”  Alberto pleaded; as he was dragged flop and flap up and down through the air, banging into the ground again and again, closer and closer to the waiting maw of the primordial fiend. flop, flap flop, Mercy laughed.


***


A Constable Havenwick and his men stood about the pit, looking stunned. “What happened here girl?”

“I told you! I don’t know Constable, I can’t remember anything after the séance.” Mercy exclaimed.

"Well, lets get out of this hellhole. I want a crew out here to fill in the obliate." Said the Constable shaking his head. "Never seen anything like."

One of the men looked over the edge, there below at the bottom of the pit, set in the ground were two-foot spikes, impaled upon those spikes were the skeletal remains of a scores of victims, hairy rats prowled among the littered remains of broken human bones. As the men turned to leave, no one saw Mercy’s eyes glowing hot red.

"Ahhh-seeeb-kaaaheeem-Naaaruuuu-Emmm-Hotep Heru'

The End

« Last Edit: May 12, 2007, 10:17:53 am by unknown » Report Spam   Logged

"There exists an agent, which is natural and divine, material and spiritual, a universal plastic mediator, a common receptical of the fluid vibrations of motion and the images of forms, a fluid, and a force, which can be called the Imagination of Nature..."
Elphias Levi

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Trent
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« Reply #1 on: March 06, 2007, 11:09:40 pm »

Well, I can definitely picture Pagan in the Amanda role. 

Good, the sex in it is implied, not graphic. I think I need to read it again before delivering a decent critique, though. What does 'Obliate' mean?
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Trent
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« Reply #2 on: March 06, 2007, 11:16:22 pm »

When I first read it, I thought it was the continuing adventures of Anna.  You might have something in her - a character constanly tormented, even after death. It woule be cool if she came back as one of your werewolf characters. That would also explain how you could bring her into the Colonel Fuller story, sixty years later - she's a werewolf! I can see all sorts of possibitlities with her - from tormented teen that wants to kill herself, to sinister seductress in later years, with still that touch of the tormented kid that was in her. She could be an ongoing character, like Vampirella, in werewolf form!
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unknown
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« Reply #3 on: March 06, 2007, 11:47:59 pm »

Hey Trent

I just did a little rewrite, that got your imagination going didn't it? Grin

I wrote this one for Pagan, cuz she always says my stories need more sex.

Oh I forget, Obliate is the name for a pit were they would through victims, prisoners in the middle ages, usually with spikes at the bottom. Its a french word.
« Last Edit: March 06, 2007, 11:50:37 pm by unknown » Report Spam   Logged

"There exists an agent, which is natural and divine, material and spiritual, a universal plastic mediator, a common receptical of the fluid vibrations of motion and the images of forms, a fluid, and a force, which can be called the Imagination of Nature..."
Elphias Levi
Trent
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« Reply #4 on: March 07, 2007, 02:17:26 am »

I didn't know that - I'll have to check into what 'obliate' is.

What specifically did you rewrite?
 
You are onto something with the Anna character, don't you think the werewolf idea solves a lot of problems linking the two earlier stories?
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unknown
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« Reply #5 on: March 07, 2007, 02:55:21 am »

Hi Trent

I imagine it would, but if she lived the only thing she could really be is the Ghoul Gueen.
Thats what got her--ghouls, thats what was in Harper's Cemetary the day she buried her father.


I rewrote the ending of the new story, and re-arranged some parts of the story so it flowed better.
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"There exists an agent, which is natural and divine, material and spiritual, a universal plastic mediator, a common receptical of the fluid vibrations of motion and the images of forms, a fluid, and a force, which can be called the Imagination of Nature..."
Elphias Levi
Bianca
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« Reply #6 on: March 07, 2007, 04:52:25 pm »



Great, Unknown!!!  I hate to contradict Trent, I think a blood- thirsty sort of
"vampire", not the usual long-fanged type is what I got, not a werewolf story.

A 'twist" on Dracula, without the literal blood-drinking.  The orgasmic satisfaction
comes from the horrific death inflicted.  Do I make sense?

Love and Peace to you both,

Bianca.


P. S.  If it gets more horrific, warn me, I scare easily and I live alone.  Bad enough
with real life......
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Your mind understands what you have been taught; your heart what is true.
unknown
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« Reply #7 on: March 07, 2007, 05:11:08 pm »

Hi Bianca Grin

Thanks for reading it, I am so glad you liked it.

As for Anna, I am convinced that the sequel that I wrote did not satisfy my audience(you guys.) I will return to her. But perhaps I should wait until I have honed my skills a bit.

Bianca, I don't plan on getting any more horrific or graphic, but you bring up a good point I was tempted to put a rating on this piece to warn people that it is at least PG 13, definitely not a G rated story.
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"There exists an agent, which is natural and divine, material and spiritual, a universal plastic mediator, a common receptical of the fluid vibrations of motion and the images of forms, a fluid, and a force, which can be called the Imagination of Nature..."
Elphias Levi
Stacy Dohm
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« Reply #8 on: March 07, 2007, 09:47:59 pm »

I think you stories are satisfying your audiences, Unknown, we're just trying to help you reach perfection.  That's hard to do, but even the best authors end up doing a lot of rewrites of their work. 

Tolkien and C.S. Lewis were both friends, had similar material but different writing styles. Tolkien would take years on things, constantly rewriting stuff, while Lewis, once he finished something, never came back to it. 
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Stacy Dohm
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« Reply #9 on: March 07, 2007, 09:53:57 pm »

Anyway, read this story, I don't think it's too gory or too sexy, i thought it hot the right notes.  You're pretty good at writing women. Did you ever see that storuy Underworld?  Sort of reminds me of that.  Maybe your next one could be a werewolf meets vampire story.
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unknown
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« Reply #10 on: March 07, 2007, 10:17:51 pm »

Hi Stacy

Thanks


It makes me feel good that you said I'm pretty good at writing women (hard for me to determine if it works, yah know.) I saw both of the underworld movies and I thought they were entertaining, kind of an interesting premise (werewolves being the slaves of vampires.) How does it remind you of Underworld?

I read some of Tolkeins early unpublished works and I can honestly say that he grew by leaps and bounds, you can even tell the difference in his writing between the Hobbit and The Lord of The Rings, The Lord of the Rings was much better in style.

I am a rewriter and I tend to never be satisfied, with anything I do.

Everybody wants werewolves and vampires, so your not found of 100 eyed, 1000 tentacled elemental fiends...darn Wink
« Last Edit: March 08, 2007, 01:42:54 am by unknown » Report Spam   Logged

"There exists an agent, which is natural and divine, material and spiritual, a universal plastic mediator, a common receptical of the fluid vibrations of motion and the images of forms, a fluid, and a force, which can be called the Imagination of Nature..."
Elphias Levi
Stacy Dohm
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Posts: 4565



« Reply #11 on: March 07, 2007, 10:29:25 pm »

I like 100 tentacled monsters just fine! Sounds like a trip.  I think the fact that you're not sure of yourself when it comes to writing women makes you worlk a bit harder at writing women.

The turmoil of the characters reminds me of Underworld - no one seems to like what they are. The more human you make someone, the sexier they turn out to be, in my opion anyway.

Check this out, we may have found Atlantis:

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"All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream." - Edgar Allen Poe
unknown
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« Reply #12 on: March 07, 2007, 10:31:27 pm »

What am I looking at here Stacy?
...
ooooohhhh scary

From out of the pit it arose, a slimy translucent thing. A bloated mass with a hundred eyes burning hot red peared out of the flesh rippling with a thousand tentacles. Those tentacles were dancing angrily, waving hungrily about among the swirling skeletal forms.

Alberto realized what it was, he knew his worst nightmare had materialized--an ancient mindless elemental being, bloated, engorged on the bodies and souls of it's victims. It's essence tainted, twisted by the tortured Ka's of those poor unfortunates cast into the black pit. Feeding its inhuman mind with all the darkness lurking in the human psyche, soaking it in a black pool of pain, lust and rage. Feuling its ever mounting appetite for violence and flesh.
« Last Edit: March 07, 2007, 10:35:33 pm by unknown » Report Spam   Logged

"There exists an agent, which is natural and divine, material and spiritual, a universal plastic mediator, a common receptical of the fluid vibrations of motion and the images of forms, a fluid, and a force, which can be called the Imagination of Nature..."
Elphias Levi
Stacy Dohm
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Posts: 4565



« Reply #13 on: March 07, 2007, 11:11:17 pm »

You are one great ad libber!

Ever hear of Kadath?
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"All that we see or seem
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unknown
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« Reply #14 on: March 07, 2007, 11:14:52 pm »

Stacy

Thats from the end of the story, how did you miss it sweety?

Kadath

sounds familiar but I can't place it.
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"There exists an agent, which is natural and divine, material and spiritual, a universal plastic mediator, a common receptical of the fluid vibrations of motion and the images of forms, a fluid, and a force, which can be called the Imagination of Nature..."
Elphias Levi
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